Noreen flushed, blushed.

Focused her eyes.

Soaped up the sponge and ran it between Jacquette's thighs.

Noreen imagined a cock and balls there. And then of course jerked her mind back to reality. But that didn't help her either.

She was dry in the mouth.

Running a fever.

Ran her hands up and down the crack in Jacquette's fanny. Then worked the sponge into the nooks and crannies of her cunny.

And then.

Who the hell was it-were they?

What the hell was it?

The fuck was going on?

Steam all around them.

Clear as life.

Noreen imagined the three naked torsos gleaming out from the billowing steam. There was Noreen herself.

Nude, tits bouncing.

Nipples erect.

And Jacquette, of course.

Likewise unclad.

Tartlike fits glistening and running with soapy water. Playing something long and soapy between her legs.

Noreen saw that Jacquette's mouth was open.

Tongue licking like a snake.

Eyes burning with a cold desire. Lips wrestling in a quirking smirk combining innocent joy and cruel and distant mockery.

And behind Jacquette, in among the pillows of vapor. A male head emerged.

Curly haired on top. Razor straight on the sides. Looking almost horned. Someone born to ravish nymphs.

Greek god type.

But in the flesh.

Noreen saw the misty outlines of the young man's thighs. Rutting, pumping.

Noreen giggled.

Reached in between Jacquette's legs.

Took hold of the cock Jacquette was playing between her loins.

A long dong.

Stretching from where the dud was dry-rutting on Jacquette from the rear.Head hopping out the front, just beneath Jacquette's cunt.

"Who's honker have I got now?" Noreen imagined herself saying.

Noreen recognized the voice of Slash Buckler, the last guy she had come in contact with that she thought might be worth a fuck. The one-another one-she hadn't fucked.