Marie Kozyk tried for a moment to resist the pressure of his hands on her head, even though she knew she would not be able to for very long. She nibbled frantically at his right nipple, running her tongue over the tiny protuberance and grasping it between her teeth in a gentle grip, but this was a mistake: by exciting him this way, she had only made him all the more eager to have her suck his cock. He pushed harder against her head, and she reluctantly gave in to the pressure.

What a hypocritical sonofabitch you are, she thought weakly as her lips neared the half-hard tool lying across his belly. Paul Ryan, the voice of moral righteousness in Hardin County, and he wants to hare his prick sucked! You're too hung up to ask for a blow job straight out, you pious fraud, but you know I can't resist getting my mouth around your cock! And you're so fucked out already, you can't raise a hard-on without getting sucked a little, too!

She reluctantly twisted around on the motel room's bed, reversing her position and bringing her crotch closer to his end of the rumpled bed, but she knew that her shift would be useless – Paul had never shown any interest in muff-diving. Marie lifted her upper thigh so that he would be able to see every detail of her flushed, moist-lipped pussy, but he showed hardly any interest in her aroused condition. Paul Ryan, she thought, believed that pussies were made to be fucked and nothing more. There were times when she wondered how he managed to find the nerve to caress her slit even for the few moments that he did, whenever they met for one of their fuck sessions; it was all too clear that he considered his work done when the fat lips became coated with the hot, slippery oil which her cunt poured out so profusely whenever she became highly aroused. He lay on his back and continued pressing her head towards his cock, using both hands and entirely ignoring the juicy, ripe slit which she offered.