Budding Boobs

Chapter 6

Pussy pumped, impaled on male prick. Mouth mewed, girlish purring upon tightly crinkled male tit. Prime male meat chopped away on mounds of womanflesh and femfruit.

"Tabitha likes his tits," Queenie jibbered from her dribbling mug.

"He's got Corky corked." Tabitha tweeted.

Corky jerked her cunt from Channing's pecker. Waved the wanger in the air.

Shook it like a bell.

"Dingaling!" she yelled., "Dinnertime," Tabitha said. "Good thing. I'm ravenous as a cat."

"I could use some stir-fried meat in my gravy," Queenie croaked, stroking herself.

"Okay, you fucking bitches," Corky chewed. "Whose next on this thing?"

"I want a suck!"

"I want a fuck!"

"Hold it, girls," Charming laughed.

"We are!"

"Listen," Channing said. "I want to get some more wine from the car."

Queenie reached into the bucket of ice. She pulled out the nearly empty bottle of white wine. Shot the dregs down her gullet.

Popped the long, cool green-glass length between her boobs.

Then lowered the bottle.

Angling it into her pelvis.

Channing watched Queenie jiggle her cunny with the bottle at full throttle as he walked back toward the parked roadster, His cock hopped in his groin as he noticed Corky and Tabitha playing slaptwat and tug-the-titties in the center of the large blanket spread out under the trees.

"Can you put on another tape, Channing?" one of the girls yelped.

Channing flipped through the cassette case, passing by selections by Mozart, Beethoven, Berlioz, and Stravinsky. He had just played the tape he had that he thought sounded like the closest thing to rock-some pulsing compositions by Philip Glass- and wasn't sure how much more classical music the girls in the band could take.

One thing Channing did not want to do was to chill these Boppette's down.

"By any chance," Charming asked, "do you have any tapes of the Boppettes?"

"Sure do," Queenie said, rubbing Gorky's chest. "Check in my bag. The red leather one."

Channing lanced his hand inside the large leather bag Queenie had brought with her. He extracted several cassettes labeled with smeared ink scrawls.

He snapped the tape into the cassette deck, pulled another two bottles of white French Burgundy from the cooler, and strolled back toward his guests of the afternoon.

Tabitha took in the length of Channing's cock as he stood next to her opening one of the wine bottles. Tabitha took hold of his twanger and bent it down into her mouth.

"Too bad Babette and Darleene couldn't make it this afternoon," Tabitha said as she chewed. "That would have been, like, excellent."

"They're both freaking virgins, anyway," Corky coughed out from between Queenie's knockers. "There's more cock for us this way."

"Hey now, doll," Tabitha said, suckering prick. "Let's crash the virgin jokes. Virgins can change. I was one until-fuck!-a few hours ago."

"Anyway," Queenie said, pushing Gorky's head down lower into her belly. "Babette and Darleene are the lead singers. They really need the extra rehearsal time."

Channing poured out a dollop of wine over Tabitha's shoulders.

The crisp liquid ran down her spine. Dripped between her asscleft.

"Oooooh."

"Too cold?"

"I like it!"

He poured some more.

The wine cascaded over Tabitha's tits. Chilled out the nippletips.

Rolled into her twat.

Tickled her tender arsepucker.

"I want," Queenie said.

Her eyes blanked. She squirmed as Corky sue-tioned onto her clitbud.

Then Queenie pressed her snatch in deeper. Scraping the spread against Gorky's teeth.

Queenie held on tight through a wave of orgasm. Rolled with the tide.

"Gimme," Queenie said with cock reflected in her eyes. "I want prickjuice."

She warped her haunch away from Gorky's choppers. Slinked over the ground.

Knelt in front of the spread-legged Channing. Tabitha took Channing's cock from her mouth.

Pointed it at Queenie's pussy and jacked.

"Shit," Corky said hoarsely. "He's got more than enough meat to go around."

Channing's cockstand was handled by the three young ladies at once.

Tabitha continued away at the dicktip. Corky slathered the cockstem.

And Queenie nibbled away at his ballocks.

Channing glugged down a good slug of wine. Swallowed with a gargle.

He then tilted his head back. Slid the bottle between his jaws.

Filled his maw.

Drained the liquid into his yip till it filled his gullet. Fed the liquid into his cheeks till his face blew out like a bullfrog's.

Channing pulsed the pucker of his mouth.

Wine and saliva spurted forth.

He sent streams over each of the girls' writhing body. Felt Tabitha cackle on his knob.

Queenie giggle on his gonads.

Corky titter on his prickstick.

"You like it wet, I take it," Channing said. "Better open up another bottle."

Tabitha seized the bottle from Channing's hands. While Channing uncorked another vintage, Tabitha shot the remains of the other bottle into the yips, between the tits, and into the twats of Corky and Queenie.

Then the girls turned tail.

At once, they attacked the standing Channing.

Queenie met him head-on. Her head was impaled on the pole of his prick.

Tabitha jumped like a cat.

With a flying scissors she landed astride Channing's collarbones. She wrapped her legs about his neck. Brought her open twat into his jaws.

Corky curved about Channing's legs from behind. She handled his rump.

Slid her palm sideways down the asscrack.

Nailed his bunghole with her thumb.

Spread the asscheeks apart with her claws.

She pursed up her mouthlips. Stabbed her tongue forth.

Tonguetip shot from pucker to pucker.

The asshole oinked open.

Corky smacked in.

Corked his ass like the sucker of an octopus.

"Ngh."

Queenie's kneeling body lent support to Channing's stance as she chattered away at his penis. Channing was top-heavy with Tabitha's twat wrapped around his face.

He tried to keep his balance by twirling his tongue at Tabitha's clit and using his upper body strength to shift her weight.

When Corky jammed her finger into his bum, however, Channing's pelvis shot forth, buckling his legs involuntarily.

Tabitha folded her tits over the top of Channing's head.

Queenie jack-knifed her ass backwards.

Corky crawled up his hiney.

Channing pivoted on one heel. Tabitha flew from his face, cunt adrip.

Queenie and Corky were crushed beneath his falling form. Channing crawled about, in search of the dropped winebottle.

Tabitha played with his penis.

Queenie slid in underneath him. On her back. Tits and cunny arched upward.

Corky oiled up the errant wine bottle in her quim. Got gobs of her goo lathered up about the rim. Felt her asshole.

Stuck it in.

"Good enough," she mumbled.

Then buttered the bottle some more. Battered it with her snatchslather.

Twisted it toward Channing's bottom.

The bottle punked into Channing's rump.

His cock jumped.

The dick juddered out from Tabitha's stroking paws. The nuts began to crackle.

Queenie shook her tits right under the hanging sac of ballocks.

Channing clenched his eyes. Felt the rutsweat brace across his back.

Beads of fuckfury heat encased his forehead. His underarms and pectorals drooled with the oils of fuck and suck.

His cockmeat jumped to the attack.

Tabitha hawked it into her maw to catch the first shots in her teeth.

"If it isn't, like, asking too much of you, Tabitha." Queenie snotted. "Don't be a such a greedy fucking hog."

She slapped Tabitha's lips away from Channing's spuming wanger. The clots of come chucked onto her tits, icing down her nipples.

"Ululululu."

Queenie rubbed the glittering sperm into her bazooms as the mushrooming cock coughed out more come. Tabitha twisted the dong again toward her lips, but Corky cut in.

The last lurch of semen oiled Gorky's tongue. The taste tempting her hunger.

Then Corky scrambled with the torquing tongue for the other wads of scum.

The thick curds that congealed on Channing's ballocks and in his pubes.

"Shit, girls," Corky groveled. "We need more of this stuff."

"Coming right up," Channing brayed. "Might need time to reload."

"Sure," Queenie choked out. "That's what guys always say. That's why I don't really like it when they come."

"Yeah," Corky belched. "To them, when they shoot off, it's the cream of the cock-but to me, it means it's all over."

"You want some juice?" Channing snorted. "There's more to life than jissom."

He spat out a mouthful of wine mixed with spittle. Waved his wanger like a lariat.

He crouched to his feet and slapped each girl across the face with his loose penis. Channing twinged his nuts.

Relaxed the sphincter.

Twinkling sprinkles caressed the air.

Catching slants of pure sunlight, and dappled shadows through the leaves. Prismatic rays glanced out from the dancing droplets of piss.

The three Boppettes cavorted like fish.

"Oooooh, Channing," Queenie gagged. "Like, that really barfs me out."

Channing aimed right at her face.

Drilled micturition into her eyes.

"Shit, you pervo fuck!"

Queenie squinted.

The urine stung into her eyes.

Blipped into her nostrils.

Fizzle drizzled between her teeth.

Queenie smiled.

Allowed the mist to cover her facial features completely. Swooned into a gargling orgasm.

"Bodacious!" Corky crowed.

Channing trained his twanger at Gorky's cunt. Trailed piss from her navel to quim.

"Hee hee hee," Tabitha jibbered. "Try me. I have to pee-pee too."

Channing winced and brought his flow of pizzle to a halt. He tackled Tabitha and rolled with her on the ground.

Tabitha kneeled over him. Channing lay on his back. Face to face with Tabitha's crack.

He loosened his prong once more.

Shot piss in a drizzle up at Tabitha's rolling underbelly. Glazing her fanny.

Dotting the asshole about the rim.

Tabitha's twat trickled tinkle.

A curtain of gilt piss showered Channing's chest and face. Tabitha bent forward and rubbed her juice through his hair.

Then she shimmied her ass lower.

Pissed herself onto the last stipples of urine Channing's pecker popped forth.

"This is freezeout stuff!" Queenie proclaimed. "Can't wait till I have to go."

"Omigawd," Corky said slowly. "Our boy's cock. Looks like its getting hard."

"Yum!" Tabitha said.

She rubbed her belly and tumbled from Channing's body. Then she half crawled, half staggered toward the roadster.

"I'll put on another tape," Tabitha said. "Any more wine over here?"

Tabitha yanked out two more bottles of wine from the cooler. She looked at the tape selection in Channing's cassette case.

Stuck her tongue out in a puke-out fashion. Then thumbed through the stack Queenie had brought along. Tabitha lurched back toward the fuckfray as the music eructed from the speakers.

"That's' shit," Queenie oinked.

"Oh, fuck," Corky sneered. "Tabitha stuck on Rudolph BlastitofPs tape because she lost her cherry to that rude dude."

"First-fuck syndrome," Queenie moaned. "She'll get over it."

"Hey, wait a second," Channing said, working up his hardon to fuckworthy density. "That stuff's not bad-for rock music."

"I think it's got a good fuck-rhythm," Tabitha said with her nose held high.

"We don't do that kind of tune," Queenie drooled as she slugged more wine.

Corky chewed out thoughtfully. "It's not that clean-cut crap wre've been doing, babes. You know I always wanted to get a little harder."

"Maybe you ought to give it a try," Charming said. "Liven up a touch. Change your image."

"Well, not before we perform tomorrow," Queenie said. "We won't have time to rehearse it."

"Let's discuss this over a dish of dickmeat, shall we not?" Tabitha suggested.

"Indeed," Channing said.

The three Boppettes gave him head.

As the amplifiers burped alive, Babette and Dar-leene swiveled their hips side to side. In their pinafore aprons over ruffled, petticoated dresses and with their hair done up into pigtails, the two young women resembled postpubescent versions of the sort of all-American asslicking girls that ail the other kids hate.

Tattletales.

Teachers' pets.

Bookworms.

Nerds and smacks.

"You know," Rudolph said from behind the soundboard. "I always thought those outfits were kind of dorky for the Boppettes."

"And who the fuck are you to say?" Darleene snapped. "Besides, we're wearing them mainly to impress our clean image on the judges."

Babette fluffed her ruffled collar. "These clothes are safe."

"We don't want to get attacked," Darleene said. "You can't even see our nipples through these things. Even when they're erect."

Patrick blushed slightly. Sometimes the things his sister Darleene came out with were cute and vulgar at the same time.

It was a kind of game between them they had come up with during their adolescence. Brother would try to catch sister undressed.

Sister would apply the gross-out and see if she could get brother to gag at her raunchy expressions. During these sessions they would pretend to try to get the other one hot.

Get those nipples crinkled.

Twat teeming.

Get that cock standing up.

And Patrick's was.

Now.

And how.

He wrinkled his brow.

"Darleene," he said. "You and Babette don't have to wear those outfits for this rehearsal. Why don't you get yourselves into something more comfortable. Maybe even experiment with other getups while you're at it."

"So brother's coming down on us too, Babette," Darleene snorted.

"Yeah," Babette said. "The other Boppettes have been itching to get us onto something less goodie-goodie. Imagewise, at least."

"Rudolph," Darleene said. "I don't care, you understand. Fm just, like, not being rude-the way you would be. What do you think?"

"You know what he thinks," Babette said. "He wants us in whoregirl underwear."

"Uh uh," Rudolph said. "Spiked hair. Spiked leather from collar to toe. Spike heels."

"Dreary," Darleene said.

"Been done a million times," Babette burped. "But then, what hasn't?"

Hadn't been fucked, Babette shocked herself with the thought. The heat suddenly nailed her in the asshole. Her clit twitched.

Lining of her cunt itched.

Wisps of pungent smoke tinged the air. A clacking of high heels echoed in the corridor outside the small rehearsal hall.

"What's that smell?" Babette said.

Babette glanced at Rudolph and Patrick. "You two expect anyone?"

Darleene's eyes, ears, and nostrils flared.

"I'll bet I know," Darleene beamed, "who is coming down the hallway."

Darleene jumped toward the opening door.

"Hiya, Suzanne."

Suzanne kissed Darleene on both her facecheeks. Darleene pecked Suzanne squarely on her mouth-lips. Babette's heart did a flip.

Darleene's ass began to move a little too excitedly Her hips ground a couple of times before she calmed down.

Rudolph dropped his jaw.

Patrick clenched his yip.

"Hey, Babette," Suzanne said.

Then walked up and kissed her face. Babette did not return the embrace.

Suzanne turned toward the guys and tossed off Say, if it isn't the Rude Warrior himself!"

"And how are you, Patrick?" Suzanne continued. Long time, no see," without a trace of an edge with no apparent implications.

"I didn't think you were actually going to show up here, Suzanne," Darleene gushed.

"I said I wanted to hear your group. I checked with the desk over the phone. They told me the Boppettes had scheduled this time slot."

"But it's just Darleene and me," Babette yawned. Working on vocals."

"Yeah," Rudolph shot in. "And on costumes "

"Suzanne," Darleene said. "What do you think?"

Suzanne lubed Darleene's and Babette's bodies with her eyes.

"Those little-girl outfits were okay for when you used to play Saturday afternoons at the country club a couple years ago."

"We're trying to play clean-cut for the rube judges they have at the fair," Babette declared. "You know, we don't really like these frigging things. I think we look like Little Miss Muffet and Little Bo-Peep."

Suzanne took a long smoke on her cigarette. She let the cigarette holder dangle from the side of her mouth as she blew out black fumes from her nostrils and split lips.

"Oh, whatever you do," Suzanne said. "I'd keep the pinafores."

"With nothing on underneath," Darleene smirked. "Rudolph would like that, for sure."

Suzanne sucked down more smoke.

"I might try," Suzanne said coolly, "something like lacy bloomers or tights. They'd cover your bods enough and still be sexy."

"Yeah," Patrick piped up. "Who says all the judges are old geeks?"