Copyright © 1997  Master Wade.  ALL Rights Reserved.



This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without

the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely

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MWADE.323                                                                                                     By Master Wade



Jenny's Legs



Copyright Wade Mondegam 1997





My friend George Pobry's reaction to seeing my new wife for the first time was a simple and concise one. "Legs," he said. My reply was equally simple. "Yep," I said, and it was enough.



George and I grew up together, and while he had not known all the women I had dated over the years, he had known enough of them to know what I looked for first. His reaction to Jenny was an educated one. It was also a normal reaction, and one he might have had even without knowing me so well. Jenny had legs. She definitely had legs.



It may seem unfair to Jenny to put so much of the focus on one physical attribute, but in much the same way that it is nearly impossible to think of Kareem Abdul Jabar without considering height, Lucille Ball without thinking of comedy, or even Nixon without Watergate, it is nearly impossible to over-emphasize legs where Jenny is concerned. It was not so much that Jenny had long legs, for they were not as long as they might have been had she been taller in stature. Nor was it the simple fact that she seldom failed to show a goodly portion of her thighs at all times, for we lived in southern climes where such exposure was the norm. Her passion for high heels was not even an especially significant factor, despite the fact that they made her legs even more impressive. No, it was simply and unarguably the conformation, muscle tone, and skin texture of Jenny's legs, all of which did not just approach perfection, but which served as a model for perfection itself.



I loved Jenny, of course, and not only for her legs, though for me that might have been enough. It was enough for some other men who knew her, but even that was so understandable that it never bothered me. It never bothered Jenny either. She was accustomed to it, even as she was unimpressed by it. Loving Jenny for her legs was like loving the sun for it's warmth, something impossible not to do if one thought about it, and Jenny made sure that we all thought about it.



Jenny had actually been something of a late bloomer physically, and at twenty-five was just beginning to be really pretty. For most of her dating years, especially those important teenage years, Jenny's legs had been her only physical asset of note. Her breasts had been small, a handicap in her eyes which consistently bothered her. She was never happy with her hair, wore braces during the wrong years, had problems with her skin complexion, and always thought her ass was too flat. Her legs were, in her eyes at least, her only strong point, and she quickly learned to use them to as much advantage as she could. Thankfully, she never forgot how to do that, or stopped doing it.



In later years the braces came off, the skin complexion cleared, Jenny gained a few pounds that seemed to all go to her breasts and ass, and with the help of a hair-dresser, she discovered how to become satisfied with her hair. By the time we met, Jenny's breasts were nearly perfect, cone-shaped and pointy, with nipples which easily grew hard and long. They were firm enough that she seldom wore a bra. In fact, she seldom wore any underwear at all, and though I have always enjoyed lingerie, I couldn't help but find that exciting. Best of all, her legs got even better.  Jenny had become a very pretty woman, not beautiful by most standards, but much prettier than most. And the legs...well, they were the diamond in her crown.



On the day that George met Jenny, we had traveled to the airport to meet his plane. Jenny waited in the baggage area for us, and was seated in a row of chairs which was visible from the corridor through which we entered. George immediately singled her out from the other women there.



Jenny was wearing a flowered blouse over a straight tan skirt. Braless, she wore no stockings, and the dress was short enough to expose nearly all of her thighs without being scandalous. She was only a step or two away from being nude in public. Her legs were crossed and tan and smooth and long and perfect and stared at. Like always. Jenny knew all that with the same kind of knowledge that she knew her name and her hair color, but she also loved knowing it, never forgot it for a moment, was thrilled by reminders of it, and was no less affected by it than those who admired her for it. If men, or even women, loved her for her legs, Jenny loved them with equal passion because they did. It was certainly one of the reasons she was so fond of me, and why she came to like George so much too.



Jenny rode between us in the front seat on the way home from the airport, all legs and pointy tits. George was pitiful in his inability to enjoy the scenery outside the car, but neither Jenny nor I found fault with him for that. He was polite, if obvious, and managed to carry on a conversation as if something other than Jenny's legs were on his mind. I was impressed. Even I had problems doing that at times. I did try to help by refraining from my usual practice of playing with Jenny's legs while I drove. To ache to touch them and to see someone else doing it at the same time is a bit much for most anyone, even a man's best friend.



I helped George with his luggage and showed him the guest room. We had nearly an hour until time to leave again to honor the dinner reservations Jenny had made for us at a nearby restaurant. George spent his time unpacking and showering. I spent my time with Jenny.



Running a close second to the powerful eroticism of Jenny's legs is that portion of her body which is just above them, her hip and pubic area. Her waist is almost tiny, and between it and the tops of her thighs, especially from the frontal view, is another part of Jenny's body that mesmerizes. Most of her admirers are limited in their opportunities to enjoy this sight, but I, of course, am not. If I am completely honest, it is Jenny's crotch, her pubis, her pussy, her vaginal lips which most excite me, and not simply because I love fucking her. I call it a prominent pubis. She laughingly calls it a fat pussy. It is simply vaginal lips which are pouty and full and which appear to be constantly swollen with arousal and which cling to panties and which force them to confine to her shape, making a crease in them which widens where the slit turns into clitoral hood. It is an impossible to ignore exhibition of pussy, no matter that it can be covered by fabric, and it draws my every emotion to it like a magnet. It makes her more edible, more fuckable, more exciteable, more wonderful, and I love it. I do not just like it, you understand. Everyone likes pussy. Jenny has made me love it, and every time she shows me, I love it even more.



The board-flat stomach above this swollen center of Jenny's womanhood adds to the mix, as does her flared and also prominent hip bones. Even the tiny scar from having her appendix removed adds it's own touch of erotic flavor, and it does not hurt at all that Jenny shaves her pubic hair daily, keeping herself silky smooth at all times. Jenny wants both her legs and her pussy to be desired, and Jenny almost always gets what she wants.



While my friend showers and does whatever else he has been compelled to do since meeting my pretty wife, we retire to our bedroom, where I have her stand in front of me with her skirt raised to her waist. I sit in a low chair and kiss the thighs and the front of the tan panties as they hug the swollen pubis which bulges beautifully in the gap between them. It is a ritual which is so common as to be almost intuitively approached by us both, simply something I do and something Jenny expects me to want to do. Assuming the positions has become as natural for us as walking together, or finding each other's hand. I kiss the bare skin and the panties, push my nose against the swollen pubis, smell Jenny, slide the panties half-way down her thighs, lick and kiss the naked lips of her sex, hold them open to look inside, sometimes work fingers into her, and sometimes, though not nearly all of the time, make her come hard. Depending on what else is happening for us at such times, I sometimes put cock in her as well, but I do not fuck her as often as I sniff and lick her. While doing these things and her becoming wet is cause and effect, doing them and fucking her is not. She can be wet without fucking, just as I can be hard without fucking, and we have discovered that intercourse once or twice a day is usually enough for us both, even though one or two thigh kissings and pussy smellings is never enough. I'm sure you understand.



Jenny comes quickly this time, even without the insertion of hard fingers into her. She comes especially hard, as well, and I know that it is partially because George has been staring at her legs and almost drooling. I make her come twice, an unspoken acceptance by me of this contribution my friend has made to her short orgasmic fuse. I eat at her sex further, in case she will go off again, but she resists having a third orgasm, uncommonly, and I realize that she is doing so out of consideration for me. It is unnecessary, but thoughtful of her, and while I take my time in removing my mouth from her pussy, I do not focus intently on her clitoris and force the issue. Two hard comes is nice for her, and the juices she has fed me have been enough, for now.



I pull Jenny's panties back up into place. The crotch of them is wet, which pleases me, always, but I do not comment on it. They will stay wet, most likely, which will please me as well, and Jenny knows this and looks forward to it as much as I do. We are, the two of  us, in sync on such things, and on many others.



Jenny lowers her skirt. As I stand to embrace her, my cock pushes out the front of my pants, tent-like. Jenny will kneel and suck the cum out if I wish for her to, but I simply hold her close to me as I kiss her and let my erection throb against her flat belly. The night is still young.





Chapter Two





Jenny has invited a girlfriend of hers to go to dinner with us. She is an attractive single woman whose company we frequently enjoy. We are confident that George will enjoy meeting her, and it will be nice for her to be along to chat with Jenny, as George and I always have much to talk about when we are together.



Jenny's girlfriend is Lauren. Lauren is a blonde with wonderfully curly shoulder length hair, a great smile, and perfect teeth. Her body is very good, with nice sized tits and well above average legs, but it is her ass which demands attention and captures one's imagination. Lauren dismisses it, saying it is too big and wanting a boob job to balance the effect, but her concerns are her own; almost no one who knows her agrees, especially if they have seen her nude. Her ass is firm and rounded, almost circularly curved, and while it is larger than most, it is not too anything, not too wide nor too prominent nor too pushed outward...it is simply Lauren, and we love it, just as we love her pale aureola and stiff little nipples.



On the way to the restaurant, Jenny and Lauren ride together in the backseat, leaving the front seat to George and I. Lauren always concedes to the leg man in me by wearing something quite short. She does not pretend that her legs are as good as Jenny's, but she knows they are delightful and enjoys showing them. She also knows that it pleases Jenny, and Lauren very much enjoys pleasing Jenny in whatever way she can as often as she can.



Lauren and I have a rather unique friendship and one that is quite special. While they do not advertise it, both Jenny and Lauren are bisexual and are frequent lovers. This is something which I highly approve of and regularly encourage, and as a result of that, Lauren and I enjoy our mutual admiration of Jenny with complete freedom. Lauren is also a fan of prominent pubises, so we speak often of Jenny's and of the smell and taste of her. We are, we know, two confirmed pussy eaters who love the same pussy, and neither of us is threatened by the other's interest. Rather, we enjoy that common interest and encourage each other with delight. I absolutely love being able to talk to Lauren about it. We talk about her pussy as well, of course, and often about the pussies of other girls we know. Jenny knows that any conversation Lauren and I have is going to be about pussy and sometimes has me call Lauren on the phone simply because of that. They are bad girls, but only in our little circle, and I am a man who loves bad girls.



Jenny has become so accustomed to being the center of attention because of her legs that she seems to accept this pussy fascination that Lauren and I have for her with almost the same calm enjoyment that she finds in having her legs admired. This is not to say that she doesn't love to be eaten, or that she doesn't especially enjoy Lauren doing it. It is simply that she is completely comfortable with it and finds it exciting and amusing at the same time.



What really turns Jenny on where Lauren is concerned is being able to go down on her herself. Lauren gets hot easily and Jenny sometimes calls her JP, for Juicy Pussy, since she is inclined to be what I call a "wetter", or a girl who is almost constantly wet. Jenny loves that about Lauren, as do I, and understands since she is that way herself. She is also wild about her ass, and being an anal girl anyway, spends almost embarassingly long periods of times with her tongue between Lauren's held-opened cheeks. When neither of those things are possible, Jenny is quite content to simply be close to Lauren and work in some kissing when she can, which she does quite frequently as we drive to dinner with George.



"Are they always like that?", George asks me as they french kiss. The music is loud enough that his question is only heard by me.

"Yes. Just about always," I say, grinning.

"It doesn't seem to bother you," he says.

"No. I enjoy it, actually," I reply.

"You never feel like a chauffer or chaperone?", he asks, chuckling. "I mean, don't you feel sort of left out sometimes?"

"No more left out than I feel when I attend a concert and am in the audience rather than on the stage. These are private performances, and to be able to watch is to be very much included. Besides, I love to watch them, and I also just love knowing they enjoy it so much."

"So you don't ever...uh...get it on with her?"

"With Lauren? Sometimes Jenny and I both do her," I reply. It is often Lauren and I both doing Jenny, and sometimes both of them doing me, but I feel no real need to qualify all that. "I would never do her without Jenny being a part of it, but she is certainly appealing."

"Ass," George says. He is sometimes a master of understatement.

"Nice one, isn't it?", I reply, smiling.

"I should say," he replies. Then laughing, he adds, "What you need is a tit girl to round things out.  A Dolly Parton type to go with Jenny's legs and Lauren's ass." George is a chauvinist, almost my equal in that, but it is not out of ignorance or a failure to appreciate women for something more than sexual partners. We just have fun. It isn't just girls who wanna have fun.

"A Titular Triumverant of Testicular Teasing Tarts?", I ask. If George is reserved in his speech I am sometimes given to excess.

"What you just said," he says, grinning. He is quite sure I don't know what it means either, but he does know how lucky I am. "Can I fuck her?", he asks.

"Which one?", I reply. I know he means Lauren, but I can't resist.

"Oooh...better not give me choices, old buddy," he replies, grinning.

"I guess you're right about that," I reply, smiling back at him. George and I both know he would love to fuck my wife, but neither of us are sure we want him to. I am fairly confident that Jenny would do it, and that she would enjoy it very much, but it is not something we talk about. "You can take her home after dinner," I continue. "What you do then is up to you and Lauren." I really do not know that George has ever cheated on his wife, and will let that be something he does on his own if he does it.

"Well, I'll take her home, but I don't guess I'd do anything, even if I thought I could."

"Like I say, that's up to you," I reply. George and I are friends, and that won't change if he fucks Lauren. His wife is a cold fish, and yet very beautiful, which makes it especially frustrating for him, I know.



In the backseat Jenny and Lauren are still making out and groping, their already short skirts shoved up around their waists. It appears that they may be on their way to orgasms, and I drive around the block a couple of times to allow them to finish what they have started, much as I would wait for them to put on makeup, or give them time to finish drinks after dinner. Girls like Jenny and Lauren have their needs, and I love indulging them. It also makes my car smell like pussy, which I am in favor of. It is probably a good thing that I am not in the business of manufacturing air fresheners, for my choice of scents would surely get me in trouble.



George and Lauren get to know each other better during dinner, and it is a very relaxed and comfortable time for us all. Lauren and I both play with Jenny's legs under the table, but we are both careful to include George in the conversation. Jenny has that "I've come a bunch of times today" look about her which is so appealing and revealing. I always wonder if others recognize it for what it is, but I know it really doesn't matter. It suits her, and is appropriate, and today it is honest and accurate. She sits facing the wall, which is convenient since her legs are spread rather nicely for Lauren and myself. Neither of us finger fuck her, though we easily could, but we keep her wet and can feel the heat from her pussy as we caress her upper thighs. Our hands sometimes touch as we get closer to her crotch, and though it is a little thing it is explosive in effect, a reminder that both of us are feeling her up, that there are two people making her hot and wet, that she is accepting our attention equally and wants it and needs it. She is a girl who simply must be played with like this.



George is a college professor. He makes a remark about European history which brings a response from Jenny who finds the subject of great interest. She majored in history during her bachelor's degree years and has traveled to Europe on several occasions. Lauren and I, neither of whom have any particular expertise in this area, listen with interest as they discuss monarchies and political histories, quite happy to sit quietly and listen and play with Jenny under the table. Jenny is an intelligent and capable woman, and more than holds her own with George in the conversation. She is also not wearing panties, and has two people feeling her up, and has fingers which smell like Lauren's pussy. The combination is mind-blowing. She tells a very interesting and amusing anecdote about Henry VIII which we all enjoy, and I find myself wanting to fuck her doggy-style and then come in her mouth, something I can do any time I want. Is it any wonder I love her so?



As we conclude dinner and are leaving the restaurant, both Jenny and George take the opportunity to make trips to the restroom, leaving Lauren and me alone.



"That was really good in the car...earlier..." she says, taking my arm and speaking quietly to me.

I smile warmly at her. "I thought it might have been," I say. "I'm glad, of course."

"I know," Lauren replies. "I enjoy your friend George," she says, "but I sure do wish I could have some time with Jenny tonight."

Lauren is asking to ride back home in the backseat with Jenny, and wanting my okay to go down on her, without actually saying the words. I understand, but I also know that George is interested in her.

"I think George is hoping to take you home," I said.

"That's cool," Lauren says, her youth showing, "but maybe Jenny and I could ride back there like we did on the way over? He didn't mind, did he? What we did?"

"I don't think so. It's not something he gets to see very often, but I think he liked it."

"Well, you know how it is," she says. "I just need some pretty bad now. After that long dinner and both of us touching her like that."

"I understand," I say. And I do.

"I can make it up to him when he takes me home," she adds, meaningfully.

"He would like that, I'm sure. He's married, but doesn't get much. You know how it goes sometimes."

"Yeah. Well, he's cute, and I won't mind at all. Especially if I can do Jenny on the way back."

"You'll kiss me on the mouth afterward?", I ask. I love to taste Jenny's pussy on Lauren's mouth.

"Don't I always?", she asks, grinning.

"Uh huh," I reply, grinning back at her. "George is leaving tomorrow. Maybe you could come over tomorrow night?"

"I'm free the next three nights," she replies, giving my arm a squeeze. It makes me resolve to make sure there is cum in Jenny for Lauren to eat.

"Then come over all three nights. And stay late."

"You're sweet. I'll make it up to you too, you know."

"I know, baby. You know what I like."

"You like to see me eat her pussy. That's what you like best."

"I like to see you eat her pussy when you are nude and your ass is up, to be precise," I correct her, gently.

"There you go with that ass stuff again," she chides me, but we both know she loves it. Anal sex is not for everyone, but it is definitely for Lauren. She looks toward the restrooms, sensing that they will be coming out soon. "So I can do her, right? In the car?"

"Sure. Just start early and don't stop until we're in the driveway. And keep your skirt up."

"Will do, Captain," Lauren replies, saluting me smartly. She's cute and young and sexy as hell. Best of all, she loves my girl's pussy.



We are barely out of the parking lot when Lauren's head finds it's way between Jenny's incredible legs in the backseat. George notices and grins, pointing to the backseat with a nod of his head and chuckling. I chuckle too and smile in response. I catch Jenny's eye in the rear view mirror. She is hot, and winks at me. She does love for Lauren to do her thing. Lauren's skirt is gathered around her waist, and her ass is high. I can see it in the mirror as well. She is an ass girl, and Jenny and I love her for it.



I debate turning the radio down so that I can hear Lauren's lusty eating of Jenny's wet pussy in all it's sloppy glory, but decide it would be unfair to everyone but me to do that. I'll have my chance in the coming evenings, and will definitely take advantage of it. George impresses me with his reserve. I know he is tempted to turn around and watch closely, and I know he doubts that anyone would object. But he allows them their privacy, somehow understanding that he will have his reward.



Jenny tries to contain her response, but is not entirely successful. Lauren wanted her badly, and has done a stellar job of working her entire bottom with her freshly lipsticked lips and eager tongue. It has driven Jenny to the edge and beyond, and she comes twice before we arrive at our house, her moans muted but still heard easily above the radio. If my car smelled like pussy before it smells even more like it now, and I am glad that I passed on the leather seats and chose something more absorbent instead.



As requested, Lauren stays between my pretty wife's legs until we pull into the driveway and the engine is turned off. The light from the post lamp illuminates her face as she raises her head, showing it to be glistening with the juices from Jenny's delightful little pussy. She tugs down her skirt and scurries around the car to give me the promised kisses. My dislike for trimming shrubbery pays off, as the bushes shield us from the prying eyes of neighbors, who probably already know about it all anyway. The juices are still warm, and I love tasting them at least as much as I love kissing the pretty girl. Jenny watches, smiling at us and pleased by our actions. I kiss Lauren's cheeks and the corners of her mouth also, and am successful in getting most of the juice off in the process. The rest will be left for George.



I whisper into Lauren's ear. "Be a hot fuck for him, sweet girl," I say, teasingly.



"I promise I will," Lauren replies. It does not occur to her that I am teasing. She wants to please our friend, but even more than that she wants to please Jenny and me. Jenny's pussy and legs are the source of her devotion, and I more than understand. Still, her sincerity touches me. She is a bad girl who very much wants to be good at it. Lauren waves goodnight to us happily and climbs back in the car.



I give the keys to George, and Jenny and I watch them back out of the driveway. Lauren is sitting close to him in the front seat, and I have no doubt that her skirt is as high as it will go. We do not expect George home for quite some time, even though it is a short drive to Lauren's house. We are not disappointed.





Chapter Three





Jenny and I walk together to the bedroom where I take my place in the chair. Her hands raise the skirt and I smile at the lipstick smudges on her thighs and shaven labia. Some men love to come home to the smell of pot roast cooking. I love to discover that some girl has been eating my pretty wife's pussy. I'm different that way, and my colesterol count is better for it.



"Is she going to do George?", Jenny asks, as I begin kissing her thighs.

"I think so," I reply, in between kisses.

"Isn't it a shame that his wife isn't more like Lauren?", Jenny asks. She has never met Polly, but has heard me talk about her and her lack of interest in sex.

"Yes, it is. Or better yet, more like you."

"She's missing a lot. Someday she won't be as beautiful and she'll wake up to find out it's too late. Did you promise Lauren something in return?"

"Your pussy for the next three nights."

"Oh my," Jenny said, grinning. She moved her feet a little further apart to give me more access to her. "I don't know who got the best deal, George, Lauren, or me!"

"Judging by how wet you're getting down here," I said, running my tongue along Jenny's right labia, "you must think you came out okay in that deal."

"I've been wet nearly all day and night, and it doesn't look like that's going to change any time soon. That feels really good, baby."



I don't reply, primarily because my tongue is pushed into Jenny's sex as far as it will go and I like it too much to pull it back out. It is at times like this that I wish my tongue were longer. I dream of being able to lick her cervix, but a dream is all that will ever be. I try, nonetheless.



There are many wonderful things about Jenny, and not all of them have to do with sex. Of those that do, her love of having her pussy eaten is one of the most precious. In six years of marriage and two years of living together before we wed, I have never known Jenny to suggest that she not be eaten. It is more amazing if you consider that there have only been a few days in those eight years when I have not eaten Jenny's pussy at least once. She also has remarkable stamina and patience when being eaten, and I do not remember a single time when she has tired of it or asked me, or anyone else, to stop for any reason. She was like that from the start, and I well remember a conversation we had about it not long after we began living together.



"You're so good about letting me eat you," I said one night as I was happily licking her.

"It may sound silly for me to say it," she replied, as she ran her fingers through my hair, "but I think I was sort of made for this. In a way."

"Mmmmm," was my reply. My mouth was rather busy at the moment.

"I mean...well, everyone always wants to do it...you know?", she said. "They always have, anyway. Every guy I ever dated. Don't let it make you feel bad for me to say it, but it's true. And more girls than you would believe want to. They don't have to say it straight out for me to know, but some of them even do that."

"Mmmmmmmmm," I said. Nothing was making me feel bad at all.

"Someday I'll tell you who did it first, but I'm not ready for that yet. But it's just always been that way. I'm not sure why."

"MmmmnnnghLEGggs," I mumbled.

"The legs? Yes, I guess that's part of it. And I've always shaved. Maybe that has something to do with it. And I guess I stay wet a lot. Probably wear my dresses too short. I've always had a flat stomach. And then the lips are fat, like you're always pointing out to me."

"Smell and taste," I managed to get out while taking a breath.

"That might explain someone wanting to do it again, but not wanting it the first time. Well...unless they'd been sniffing me while kissing my legs or maybe finger fucking me or something. Or smelling my dirty panties. I caught a girlfriend of mine doing that one time when we were pretty young. I thought it was weird at the time, but I guess it wasn't so weird, really."

"You smell (lick, lick) really good (lick, suck, swallow, lick)," I said. I meant it.

"Thank you. But I don't think I smell so much different from other girls. At least not the one's I've smelled myself. I guess it's the legs, like you said. Maybe they want to kiss them, and when they do they see the fat lips and smell the smell and see the wetness and want to eat it. I don't know. Anyway, I think I'm sort of...well...for being eaten, if that makes sense. Sort of like some women seem to be natural mothers, or like some people are just natural athletes."

"Uh huh," I said. The Michael Jordan of leggy bisexuals. She was too busy thinking out loud to be responding very much to the attention I was paying her, but I didn't mind. I liked doing it, and I liked hearing her talk about it.

"I try to be good for it, or at it, or whatever," she continued. "I feel like it's important to stay in shape for it. I mean it isn't physically such an easy thing, not if it goes on for a long time, and usually it does. It depends on the position I'm in, of course, but it does put a strain on my thigh muscles, and on my stomach muscles too, especially if I'm having lots of orgasms. And who doesn't like orgasms...right? So I like to be able to take it."

I began sucking on her clitoris. I can take a hint.

"Oh yeah, honey...do that," she said, as her hips began moving.

Jenny's clitoris gets quite long when it's sucked on; not much fatter, but quite a bit longer. It makes it easier to get my lips around it, and I don't have to use my teeth, which is sometimes too much. I love to see it when it's long like that, and I'm forever taking my lips off of it to look at it, and then going back to it. That alone seems to keep her from going off too quickly, and I can let her orgasm build slowly that way. Besides, she makes a lot of juice, and I like to get some of that in between sucks, too.

Jenny came pretty quickly that first time, and I went back to licking in the center of her sex, where the cocks go. She started talking again.

"I like how you don't stop just because I come," she said, caressing my cheek with her fingertips. "Some guys think a few moans are like a plant whistle announcing quiting time. I mean...what's the rush, right?"

"Right," I said, lifting my head up to smile at her.

"But it isn't like I have to make it, either. It's not all about my pleasure, after all. I'm not so vain that I think I was made to come, just made to be eaten. It's not the same."

"It isn't?", I ask, taking a short breather.

"No, not at all. I mean, well...look at it like this: The legs and the fat pussy and all that, plus the fact that I'm a showoff and can't help making people want to do it and that I like to make them want to do it anyway and would be disappointed if they didn't want to do it...that's all about how I really should spread my legs and let it happen, you know? Not with just anybody, of course, but like they say, you should stay out of the kitchen if you don't want to cook!"

I raise an eyebrow. I don't think that's exactly how that goes. But it sounds good anyway.

"So, I mean if I'm for it, and I'm into making it happen and all that, and really want it anyway, and want someone to do it a lot, then it's a bit much to load them up with a lot of responsibility to get me off too. I mean, just let them do it, you know? Let them do it and if I get off then that's the gravy, sort of."

My mouth was filling with her gravy, and I loved it.

"I'm gonna come again. And you're not even sucking my clit," she said, grabbing my head and holding it in place. I suppose she wanted a vaginal orgasm. Whatever...my tongue was in pretty deeply, and I liked it. She humped hard against my face.



After that night and it's frequently interrupted conversation, I gladly accepted Jenny's evaluation that she was "made to be eaten", and made sure that she was eaten regularly. She was never so shallow as to believe she had no other purpose in life, or to be content with only that form of sexual pleasure. She had simply found a very happy satisfaction in that part of her appeal and it's results, and I gratefully joined her in it.



On this night, however, knowing that my friend George is almost certainly going to be fucking Lauren makes me anxious to wet something besides my tongue in my precious Jenny's little pussy. I have her strip naked for me and take her to the bed where I enjoy her entire body with generous kisses before entering her and screwing her slowly and deeply. We both hold back, staving off the orgasms that are crying out to be freed within our bodies, until finally Jenny can't stand it any longer and she cries out, "Fuck me like you'd fuck Lauren if you were George tonight!" I know what she means, although I would fuck Lauren fast and hard even if George had nothing to do with it, and I pump her with feverish stabs that drive the bed against the wall. It has turned us both on to think of George and Lauren fucking, and we take advantage of that, letting it make our orgasms even stronger. We come together, and it sounds like a wrestling match with all the grunting and thrashing around.



Jenny loves to clean us both afterwards, and I enjoy letting her. She cleans me first with her mouth, then with a warm washcloth, and then cleans herself. She is not a cleanliness freak; she simply enjoys the act of caring for me after sex. She also knows that I may want to eat her some more, and that I only want to find either pussy juice or another girl's saliva in there when I do.



When she is done, I have her put on a cute, almost translucent, white baby-doll gown with matching panties. It is a favorite of mine, though she usually does not wear the panties. But George will see her in it, and the legs and pointy tits are enough excitement, plus he will see the panties, which, though still exciting, won't be quite the same as seeing her naked sex. I could have her wear something less enticing, but this choice will please us all.



We are cuddled on the couch in the den, watching late night TV, when George returns. It is immediately obvious that Lauren was good to him. His clothes are wrinkled, and his hair is a mess, and he looks both pale and weak. I can hardly refrain from laughing, but I do.



"I had a great time tonight," he says, smiling, "but I'm really ready for bed. I hope you won't mind if I go straight to my room. Morning will come far too soon, already." George drinks in the sight of Jenny in her gown, and I know Jenny loves it. I do too.

"We understand, George," I say. "We had a good time too. Sleep well."

"I'm sure I will," he answers, and with that he is gone, not to be heard from until the next morning.



Jenny turns to me and kisses me gently on the mouth, wrapping her arms around my neck. When she ends the kiss she sits back and idly plays with the hair on my chest. She is thinking, forming words to say to me, and I smile as I watch the process unfolding.



"Lauren is coming over tomorrow night, right?", she asks, finally.

"Yes. For dinner, I hope. I told her to plan on staying late all three nights."

"Can I tell you what I want to happen tomorrow night? When she's here?"

"Sure," I respond, smiling. Jenny always wants good things.

"Well, we already know what she's going to want. And that's good. I want it too. And I KNOW you do." She looks up at me and grins. My love affair with watching Lauren eat her is no secret to any of us.

"Yep, I do," I say, putting on a country boy accent. "I shor do, darlin!"

"Uh huh," she says, her grin very broad. "Well, she can have all that she wants, of course. But, I want to watch you fuck her in the ass...the very first thing...before she ever even smells me."

I smile. Who wouldn't? Especially with an ass like Lauren's.

Jenny continues. "I want to be nasty. Is it okay?"

She knows that it's more than okay with me, and that I love her definition of being "nasty". But it's still sweet of her to ask.

"I like for you to be nasty. Sure it's okay."

"Good. I just really want to eat her ass, and it's always better if you've put cum in it first."

"Uh huh. That's nasty, alright." I am grinning from ear to ear.

"Can I be double nasty?", she asks, still grinning.

"Sounds good to me, baby," I say. "How?"

"Well, I'd like to eat your ass while you're fucking her in the ass. Then clean you both up. Then she can do anything she wants with me. Or you can. Or you both can. Whatever."



I told you Jenny always wants good things.



My response is to take Jenny there on the couch, without bothering to remove the little panties, or even pulling them to the side. I simply push against the crotch until it shoves up inside her and then rips, allowing my cock to drive through the tear. We both come hard and fast, our efforts at being quiet about it in consideration of George only making it hotter for us.



Afterward I take her to bed, stripping her naked and holding her close to me on the cool white sheets. Her legs are smooth and silky, and with only a little concentration I could be hard enough to take her again. I have fucked her legs before, pushing the thighs together and thrusting between them until I came, and thoughts of that would surely make me stiff. I am also tempted to go down on her yet another time, to kiss the legs some more and to eat more of her sweet fuck. I know that I can if I want. Everything about her makes me want that. Everything indeed.



The End





















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