"Oh," he said, as if she'd kicked him.

She smirked at him. For a guy was with an astronomical I.Q., he was sure fucking slow about some things. He'd actually thought she'd meant for him to lick her pussy! That was a prize, not a penance!

"Kiss that!" she demanded, pointing at the head of his cock.

"Huh?!" he said.

She could hardly keep from giggling at the look of astonishment on his face.

"I want to see you kiss it," she repeated, reaching down between her legs and teasing a fingertip around the wet mouth of her vagina.

"But, that's impossible!" he moaned.

She glared at him. Instead of out and out refusing to participate in the bizarre and degrading act, Paul had given voice to a weak and simpering protest. It was typical of him and it infuriated her no end.

"If you don't find a way to do it in the next sixty seconds," she said, sharply, "I'm going to get dressed."

Paul flinched. The poor guy was so turned on that anything less than her tight little pussy would've driven him mad. Groaning miserably, he gripped the neck of his engorged penis and bent his head down as far as he could, jamming his chin up against his chest, arching his back and tipping his hips forward. Though he pulled mightily on his hard cock, causing the loose outer sheath of skin to bunch up about the flaring rim, causing the head, itself, to turn a dark, purple, he couldn't bring the tip closer than five inches to his face.

"I'm going, Paul," Joselyn said, reaching over for her skimpy hot orange tube top.

He whimpered and frantically jerked on the rigid rod, extending his tongue, trying to bridge the unbridgeable gap. He was still two and a half inches away! Growling, he threw himself down on the floor on his back at the foot of the bed.

Joselyn pulled on the tube top, gingerly reaching inside to adjust her saucy bosoms. She straightened up, peering over the edge of the bed at young man writhing before her on the rug.