I figured it was about a four hour drive, most of it on the Interstate, to Camp Hoyle, where my son is stationed. Kevin had a weekend pass and invited us up to see the place and maybe do some fishing. I had our gear in the big chest back in the bed of my pickup. The day was warm and sunny, but not too hot. Good for driving. We had the windows cranked down—no AC in my old Dodge—and a nice breeze blew through the cab.

"Are we almost there yet?" Jill said.

She smiled impishly and tossed her sunshine hair in a way that let me know she was teasing me. The highway breeze blew her mane right back across her face. She wiped the hair away from her eyes and smiled at me. What a pretty smile she had, and that twinkle in her bright blue eyes. Every time I saw her I fell freshly in love.

"It's a hot one, isn't it?" Jill said. "I wish you'd get your radio fixed."

"I've been meaning to," I said. "Maybe we could play an animal guessing game. I used to play them with Kevin way back when. I'm thinking of an animal that is soft and furry."

"It's too hot for animal guess games," Jill said. She took the hem of her dress, a short light thing with big blue flowers on it, fanned it against her slim thighs. "Did you used to fish with Kevin?" she asked.

"Not really," I said. "I remember I used to pitch him baseball practice back when he was in Little League. He was a pretty good little ball player. Way back when."

Jill continued to waggle the dress. "So hot," she said. Suddenly I couldn't keep my hands off her. One hand, anyway—the other needed to stay on the wheel.

"Be good," Jill said, but I knew she didn't mean it, and it didn't take long for my hand to work its way under those big blue flowers. The skin of her lovely legs was warm, then cool, then warm again, almost hot.

"Be good," she repeated.

"Yes, we're almost there," I said, and my middle finger strove forward, found the furrow, the slippery wet slot.

"Nnnn," she whimpered. "Shouldn't you be... mmmm... driving?"

"I'm driving you, honey," I said. "You're clit's like a little gear shift. First, second, third." I wiggled her little button back and forth."

"Oh, oh, oh," she said.

"That's it, baby," I said. "I think we're getting close. A mile passed. Then another. My finger circled all the while. Jill's oh's grew deeper. Breathier. When I sensed she was about to come, I stopped. I curled my hand under and pushed my middle finger as far into her cunt as I was able. How could something so slippery be so tight? "Just checking the oil," I teased her. I could feel her cunt clench—little kitten-like sucks on my finger.

"Oh, oh, oh," she said. I knew if I touched her clit again she'd come. If I moved my finger at all she'd come. I let myself soak in her cunt. Her excitement slowly ebbed. I knew it would be all the stronger next time. When she was far enough from orgasm, I slipped my finger out.

"You're naughty," she said.

"You're naughty," I countered. "Smell." I stuck my finger under her nose. "What's it smell like?"

"I don't know," she said.

"You know," I said. "Tell me."

"Me," she said. "It smells like me."

"You can say it," I teased her. "Come on, say it."

"It smells like my pussy," she said.

"Your cunt," I said.

She sighed.

"Come on, say it."

"No," she said.

"I love when you say it."

"Cunt," she said. "My cunt."

"Your sweet sweet cunt," I said. "I love your sweet sweet cunt. It smells like a flower. Like a beautiful little flower all filled with syrupy fuck juice."

I was going way too fast. But not many troopers out. I eased off the accelerator. But not too much. The road was free and clear except for a single semi up ahead. I moved into the passing lane.

"Put your finger in," I told Jill. "Touch yourself."

"The truck," she said.

"Put it in," I said. "He won't see."

"He will," she said. But she put her finger in anyway. "Hurry," she said. "Go fast."

She had her eyes clenched shut. Her lips were pursed. Her finger was working.

"That's it, baby," I said. "Make yourself feel good. Make yourself come."

Jill has a harder time doing it herself. The touch of her own hand doesn't work as well as the touch of someone else's hand. My hand.

I pulled even with the semi. Red Arrow Express the panel said, with a picture of a big red bull's-eye. The semi was really speeding along. I could have passed, but for some reason I didn't. I stayed even, cruising in the cab's shadow. "That's it, baby," I said. "You're getting there. A little more. Almost. Almost."

I moved my right hand onto her flower print dress. I pulled it up. I could see the work of her hand beneath her panties. So could the trucker, if he was looking down. Those pale blue panties bumped and wiggled with Jill's rapidly working little hand, her fingers frigging the tiny bean of her clitoris as she struggled to bring herself off. I helped her out. I put some pressure on her mons. "Oh, you're gonna come so good," I said. "Come for me now, baby. Come."

The pressure of my hand and the soft chant of my words and the touch of her own fingers... it wouldn't be a moment more.

Her breath grew quick, and then sharp, and then she wailed, a long wailing oh. Her fingers stopped. Her hand held fast. I kept my hand pressing down, luxuriating in the tremors, one after another, a cavalcade of tremors. Then I put my foot on the gas pedal and shot past the semi and on down the highway.

"Let me smell," I said some miles later. "Let me smell your fingers."

"Uh-uh," she said.

"Don't be shy," I said.

"I smell too..."

"What?" I asked when she hesitated.

"I smell too cunty," she said.

"Show me," I insisted. I smiled. "I mean it."

She put her fingers under my nose.

"Mmmm," I hummed. "So good." I took her fingers into my mouth. I sucked them, swiping and swirling my tongue everywhere. I didn't want to let go of her fingers. Eventually I did. "I could drink you," I said. "I could drink your cunt morning noon and night."

"You're sweet," she said.

"I'm going to make you come again," I said.

"No," she said.

"Why not?" I asked. "You want to."

"It's too much," she said. "You make me feel... too much."

"Too much is good," I said.

But I didn't do anything. I just drove.

"You made me feel so good," she said after a while. "A little sleepy."

"You can take a little nap," I said. "Go ahead, I don't mind."

She put her head on my shoulder. After a few miles she fell asleep.

I could feel the highway under us and the bulge of Mike's dick against my cheek. It felt good, so big and firm under his pants, but I wanted to feel it in my mouth. After I've had a couple of orgasms I just love to suck cock. I don't know why that is, but I love it.

I squirmed a little until I could mouth the coarse denim.

"Mmmm," I hummed.

Mike stroked my head. He was gentle, but I knew he was excited. I could feel the throb of his cock.

"Hey," I said, turning so I could stare up at him. "How we doing?"

"Fine, just fine," Mike said. What a sweetie my guy is. I mouthed him again for a while, and then I unsnapped the button of his Levis.

"What you doing, hon?"

"Nothing," I said. "You just drive. You just get us there in once piece."

"Okay," he said.

I worked the zipper down. That was better. Now his cock had more definition. I could see the shape of the head poking up at the waistband of his underwear, just a bit blurry from being so close. A little more and he'd be out. I gripped the shaft from the side with my mouth. The helmet came clear of his briefs. Oh, such a plump, plum-shaped cockhead he had. I nuzzled the edge of it with my nose. He smelled like the far off sea. A soft swollen smell. Waves of sex. I wanted his dick in my mouth so bad.

But things were a little cramped. I inched his underwear down. His cock, still trapped at the base, rose straight up along his belly. I mouthed it from the front, getting at the special spot in the wedge. He loved it when I licked him there. I took it slow, tasting him, but never getting his whole head into my mouth. I knew if I swallowed him he'd come immediately. He was so at the edge. Even too much tickling of the front could trigger him. He might shoot all the way to the ceiling. I giggled a little bit, thinking of his hot come raining down. But I didn't want it in my hair. I kept sucking him from the front, but slowly, keeping him going, but not letting him go over the edge. The highway hummed beneath us.

I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled over. I eased out from under Jill, pulling up my underwear in almost the same motion. "Why are we stopping?" Jill asked.

"We're not," I said, getting out, slamming the door, coming around the passenger side and opening the door.

"Huh?" said Jill, still half sprawled on the seat.

I pulled her towards the edge. Pulled my pants down just enough. Pulled her the rest of the way to me and jammed into her hot cunt. So unbelievably good. So fucking hot, so fucking slick, so fucking fine. I fucked her hard and fast, slamming myself in all the way, burying myself again and again in her sweet hot honey pot. She was smiling at me—a soft, faraway smile.

"Oh, honey," she said. "Won't someone see?"

"I don't care," I snarled. "I don't fucking care."

I pushed up her dress so I could see her breasts. Little beauties with rose tips. The bottom of her flower dress was bunched up under her chin. Her little breasts bounced with the motion of our fuck.

A car rushed past.

"Oh, honey," she said. "Please."

"Okay," I said, not sure what I meant. I opened the glove box and snatched out a road map. I rattled it open and spread it over her. The unfurled map covered her body up to her chin. A fringe of flower dress poked out. She had the fringe of dress in her mouth. She was sucking it. Her cunt was making squishing noises, as if I'd already come, but I hadn't. I was almost too excited to come.

"Uh huh," she said, talking with the dress in her mouth. "That's it baby. That's it." The dress wasn't in her mouth any more. She was staring at me with her sparkling blue eyes, urging me on, urging me to come in her, banging me back with her sweet little body, her beautiful titties thrashing under the road map. "Give it to me," she was saying. "Fuck me. Fuck me harder. Oh, Mike, Oh, Mike. Oh, Mike."

I fucked her harder. The truck rocked with our fuck. I wanted to come, but I wanted to fuck forever. Her head was thrust back now. Her sunshine hair fanned out on the seat. She was straining hard for her orgasm.

And then it happened. A blur of everything, but in slow motion. Her legs going up, her body bucking off the seat, bucking me out of her. And the semi, in a blur of red, rushing past, its air horn blaring. And me coming. Emptying myself.

Almost as soon as we were back on the highway I had to pee.

"Why didn't you do it while we were stopped?" Mike asked.

"I didn't have to then."

"I think there's a rest stop not too many miles up ahead. I'm pretty sure I saw a sign. Unless we already passed it. It was hard to concentrate with... you know?"

Now that he'd gotten off, Mike was suddenly all shy about saying sex words. "With me what?" I said just to tease him.

A hint of blush colored his cheeks.

"With me sucking on your dick?" I said.

His blush came on full. Men are so strange.

"A nice dick it was, too," I said. I reached over to give it a little squeeze. He tried to bat my hand away.

"What's a matter? Too sensitive now? Come on little dickie, come out to play. I won't hurt you." I reached for it again, and this time I got my hand on it. Mike knew if he didn't let me, I might squeeze really hard. I began fondling the nice little parcel of penis.

"Do you have to pee or not?" Mike said

Fooling around almost took my mind off it.

"Cuz there's the sign," Mike said. "Rest stop two miles. See, I told you."

Now that he'd reminded me, I could barely hold it.

"Hurry, okay? I have to go really bad. I'd hate to get your seat all wet."

Mike can be so considerate. He pulled up to the door to let me out, then went off to park. I scooted into the Ladies without looking back, fairly flew into the first empty stall, and pulled down my panties in the same motion as I sat. The stream came immediately. Sometimes it feels so good to pee, especially after fucking. After I was through, I just sat there for a while, not thinking of anything, just relaxing and feeling good all over. Finally I wiped and flushed and pulled up my panties.

At the sinks a girl in tight blue jeans was washing her hands. "I bet that felt dang good, huh?" she said. It wasn't a girl—it was a young Asian woman with jet black hair and a wide smile. But she didn't talk like an Asian woman; she talked like she was from Georgia or someplace south.

"Um, yeah," I said.

"I don't just mean the peeing," the woman said. "Though I'm sure that felt good too. You're in that beat-up Dodge, right? The black pickup."

"Um, yeah," I said.

"Right. I recognize the dress. You've got on pretty blue panties, don't you, hon? I seen them back about sixty miles when you passed me, when you was jilling off to beat the band."

"Um," I said.

"Got me all hot 'n bothered. Pretty soon I was sitting on a wet spot the size of Poontang Pond. Day-uhm! And then back there about mile marker 176, what do you know but I seen you again—off to the side? Spread out on the seat? My, that looked like fun. Did you all hear my honk?"

"Um," I said. "You're the red truck? The Red Bull Express?"

"Red Arrow Express," she said. "Red Bull's some kind of soda pop. I ain't never had none. You?"

"Um, no, I don't think so," I said.

"We'll have to try some together some time, won't we?" She wiggled her hands dry. "Okay now, you all take care. See you on down the highway."

Mike was waiting for me out in the rest area lobby. How come guys can pee so quick? It's not fair. I walked up to him and punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

"What was that for?" he said.

"The Red Ball Express," I said. Then I realized I'd gotten the name wrong again, and I started giggling.

Kevin got us a reservation at a hotel just off the Interstate. A nice room with two queen beds and an oversized tub in the bathroom. I called Kevin at the base and he said he'd meet us out here in time for dinner. "He says he's got a nice surprise for us," I told Jill. "But I guess we've got a couple of hours to kill before he gets here."

"I'm kind of sleepy," Jill said. "Maybe I'll try out the bath and then take a little nap. You know what would be really good? Candles. Candles and bubble bath and a bottle of good wine."

"Remember what happened the last time you drank wine?" I said.

"That was cuz it was bad wine, honey," she said. "But you're right, maybe something not so strong. There's this drink called Red, um, Red something. Maybe you could find us some of that? And candles. And bubble bath."

I asked in the lobby, and the clerk said there was a liquor store not far down the access road. "I don't suppose they have candles?" I asked. The clerk smiled. I decided not to ask him about bubble bath.

On the way out of the lot, I saw a truck stop convenience center on the opposite side of the Interstate. A big sign above the window said, Snacks, Bait, Ice Cold Beer. Maybe they'd have what I needed. I drove over. This truck stop had almost everything. I got ten red candles, some fat and some thin. I got a jar of cherry bubble bath. I was so excited to have found it that I nearly forgot the beer. I set the bubble bath and the candles on the counter off to the side and told the cashier I'd be right back. "Sorry, you go ahead," I said to the girl in line behind me. Cute girl, but she wasn't a girl at all—she was a young Asian woman with a tin of Altoids in her hand, and she was grinning at me, a fat sassy smile. "Looks like you all gonna have a passel of fun with that stuff," she said.

"I hope so," I answered her, and then I went off to find the beer.

Red something, Jill had said. I was sure she didn't mean Johnny Walker Red. The beer cooler ran the whole back wall. I spent some time studying the brands. They had Killians Irish Red and something called Red Wolf and something called Red Dog. I got a six-pack of each.

Before going back to the motel, I gassed up the pickup, taking time to clean the windows. The trusty road map lying on the floor caught my eye, and I folded it up and stashed it in the glove box. Driving back to the motel, I was thinking about the cute Asian girl with the Altoids. Maybe I should have picked up a tin for Jill and me. I'd heard that they went really well with oral sex. But heck, our oral sex was just fine the way it was. Maybe some other time. I carried the three sets of six-packs and the sack with the bubble bath and candles through the lobby to the elevators. I had one six-pack under my left arm, one six-pack gripped in my left hand, one six-pack under my right arm, and the sack of candles and bubble bath in my right hand. I must have looked really awkward.

With my arms so full, it wouldn't have been easy pressing the elevator up button, but the button was already red. An old couple and another guy were waiting. "It seems to be stuck," the guy said. Everyone was staring at the red button. "Both of them seem to be stuck," the old woman said. "Maybe the electricity is out." "Now, dear, that doesn't make sense," said the old man. "Look, all the lights are on." "Maybe they have special electricity for the elevators," the old woman said. "Like AC DC?" she added. "Yes, dear, but the elevator button is lit," the old man said. "Then we'll just have to be patient," the old woman said.

I wasn't feeling too patient. The six packs and the sack of candles and bubble bath were getting heavy in my arms. I was thinking of setting them down, but I decided to take the stairs instead. We were on six, the top floor, but I'm in good shape; I could manage the flights. Opening the stairway doors was a small challenge. I had to set down the sack of candles and bubble bath and the six-pack in my right hand, hold the candles and bubble bath sack in my teeth, twist the door handle, then push the door open with my butt and pick up the third six-pack. A one-man three-ring circus, I thought. By the third floor I decided to see if the elevator was working yet. Two buttons, up and down, neither lit. I set the one six-pack down, pressed the up button, picked up the six-pack, and waited. Amazingly, the elevator door on the left slid open. I stepped in.

Someone was there. The guy had his back to the door. It took me a moment to realize another someone was kneeling at his feet. Quickly she stood up. The guy turned, zipping up at the same time.

"Hi, Dad," he said. He held out his hand to shake, but I had six-packs in both of my hands. I couldn't say anything because of the candles and bubble bath sack. "Oh," Kevin said, "Dad, I'd like you to meet Molly." He beamed at the Asian girl standing next to him now, the girl from the convenience store.

"Heh-wo," she mumbled, as if her mouth were also full.

I nodded at her, the candle and bubble bath sack wagging from my mouth. The elevator made its way up to six.

"You surprised us, Dad," Kevin said. "Who pushes the up button from two?" He chuckled. The elevator door opened. Kevin and Molly started to step out. "Wait," I said. The sound came out muffled through the paper sack in my teeth. "Don't you want those?" My eyes pointed to the elevator floor, to the tin of Altoids resting innocently in the corner.

"Dank you," Molly said. Hastily she bent to pick up the tin. I couldn't help notice what a nice little ass she had. Meanwhile the elevator door had started to slide shut, but Kevin blocked it with his foot. "Guess we've gone down enough for one afternoon, eh, Dad?"

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I followed Kevin and Molly down the hall. "Our rooms should be right together," Kevin said. "You and Jill are all checked in, right?"

"Right," I mumbled through the sack. I was going to have to set something down to get my keycard out of my jean's pocket. The sack was starting to get soggy in my mouth.

"Key in your pocket, Dad?" Kevin asked. "Here, let me get it." But he was standing on the wrong side.

"Other pocket," I mumbled.

"Molly?" Kevin said.

And before I could react, Molly's little hand slipped into my pocket. Her hand was only in there for an instant, but long enough to start an erection. I tried to will myself down. Molly handed the key to Kevin, brushing me with her body as she did. My skin was aflame. Kevin slid the key into the slot, pushed the door open, and stepped into the room, Molly at his heels. They stopped abruptly. I almost ran into Molly. I could see clearly over her head.

Jill, stretched out on the nearest bed. Asleep. Her beautiful body bare.

I awoke to someone stroking my bottom. Soft, pleasant strokes. "Mmmm," I sighed. It felt good. I half turned to see Mike, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I must have dozed off," I said. "You made me so sleepy."

"Me!" Mike exclaimed. "I think you did it yourself."

"I had such a weird dream," I said. "Vivid and strange, the way afternoon nap dreams often are. You were in it."

"Me?" Mike said again. His hand was back on my ass, making slow circling motions.

I laughed, thinking of the dream. "You asked me if I wanted a motorcycle ride. I said sure, but we were out in the parking lot, and there was no motorcycle. For a moment I thought it must have been stolen, but then you were taking off my shirt, because I was the motorcycle. Then you took off my pants and you rode me, and I really was a motorcycle. It felt good to have you on me, riding me through a field of flowers. It was bumpy, but you kept asking me to go faster. Faster and faster I went, and I thought you might fall off, but you didn't. It was fun. But then we arrived at the rodeo. 'We're here, ' you said, and you hopped off me, and my shirt and pants were back on. I was a little sad not to be a motorcycle anymore. 'Now you get to ride the bull, ' you told me. Inside the pen was a huge red bull, snorting and stomping. 'Don't be afraid, ' you said, and you set me on its back. I didn't see how I could ride the bull, because I had nothing to hold on to. The bull started bucking. It was bouncing wildly, trying to shake me off, but somehow I held on. And I realized that you were the big red bull. You were getting madder and madder, bucking wilder and wilder, and I could sense your big bull penis and your big bull balls bouncing around under you, flopping wildly back and forth, but I was light as an angel on your back. You might as well try to buck off sunlight."

"And then what happened?" Mike asked.

"Nothing," I said. "That's when the dream ended.

Mike's hand was still on my bottom, still stroking. Sometimes he'd slide a finger between my ass cheeks, dipping briefly against my asshole—just a kiss of his fingertip and then he'd slide it away. It tingled, and I almost wanted him to touch me more, to touch me harder, to go in a little ways. I knew if his fingertip went further, down to my pussy, he'd find it wet and open and wanting. I didn't tell him that when I was riding him when he was the bull in the dream that I was coming. I'm not sure if I was coming just in the dream or coming in the dream and for real. As long as I was coming I wouldn't fall, even though come juice was pouring out of me, making his big red bull back slipperier and slipperier. I think that's what they call a paradox. Next time Mike's finger grazed my asshole, I gave a little squeeze, almost as if I were trying to catch his fingertip. Maybe I was trying to catch his fingertip, but he was too quick. Or he didn't get the hint. His hand moved back to the fat part of my ass, stroking and stroking. That felt good, too, so I didn't complain. I just enjoyed it and waited for his fingertip again.

But his fingertip didn't come. Instead he slapped me. A hard stinging slap. "Ow."

"Time to get up," Mike said. "Kevin's here. Kevin and his surprise."

"Here?" I exclaimed. "Now? Why didn't you tell me? Holy shit."

"He's next door," Mike said. "The room next to ours. We're going to meet over there for dinner. Room service on their balcony."

"Holy shit," I said. "I have to get ready. I have to get cleaned up. I must reek of sex."

"Calm down," Mike said. "You smell great."

"I stink," I said.

"No way," Mike said, and he wrestled me over and burrowed his head between my legs. "Don't worry, I'll clean you off." His tongue lapped the length of my slit. "Mmmm," he said. "What a sweet sweet pussy you have. What a lovely kitty-cat cunt." He licked and lapped, and for a moment I almost gave in to the pleasure of it. But I knew I needed a shower, even if he didn't. I twisted hard, escaping him for the moment.

But before I could get off the bed, he grabbed me. He hoisted me up like I was a little girl. "Okay, kiddo," he said. "If it's a bath you want, it's a bath you're gonna get."

He carried me into the bathroom. The big tub was filled with pinkish bubbles. Candles were blazing. Mike dumped me into the bath. The water was hot but not too hot. I sank down, immediately as relaxed as I have ever been, and I let Mike scrub me clean. He was firm but gentle. He rubbed me everywhere, being gentle between my legs. Gentle, but firm, and after a while I realized he was spending more time there than was necessary, circling my clit lazily. I didn't mind. I was totally relaxed. So it surprised me when I came. It was the most relaxing come I'd ever had. I imagined the bubbles were all bubbles of come, and I laughed. "I think I'm all clean now," I said.

"Not quite," Mike said. He pressed his fingertip into my asshole. It went in easily. It went in all the way. I felt so suddenly full, but also relaxed. I swooned with pleasure and sank beneath the bubbles. I sprang up, in a small panic now. There would just be time to rinse and dry my hair. I was going to have to go with a wild look, but so what?

A few minutes later, the blast and buff of the hair drying going in my ears, I thought, oh, shit, I didn't ask about Kevin. How selfish can I be? "How's Kevin?" I yelled, but Mike was somewhere outside the bathroom, and I couldn't be heard over the drone of the hairdryer. A moment later he came into the bathroom.

"Let's go," he said.

"But I haven't even figured out what to wear."

"Wear what you had on," he said. "The suitcase is still in the truck.

"Can you go get it?"

"Just put on that dress and let's go," he said. "It's only Kevin. It's only next door."

"Well, I'm not wearing these smelly panties," I told him.

"Fine," he said. "Put on the dress, and let's go."

I don't know why I let him convince me. A moment later I was in the motel hallway, waiting at the door next door, wearing nothing but the light summer dress. And it wasn't fine—a moment after Mike knocked, the door opened up, and it wasn't Kevin at all, it was that little Asian girl from the Interstate rest area. About the only good thing, if it can be called good, is that she was wearing even less than I was... if you count square inches of cloth. A string bikini with the teeniest patch of pale material barely covered the soft swell of her little poon. She must have been shaven bare down there; I couldn't wear something that low without showing half my fluff, and my fluff is naturally scant and sparse. Her top was a pair of eye patches over her girlish tits. I'm not well-endowed at all, but her little apples on an ironing board chest made my boobies look like ripe melons, or at least juicy pears.

"Tis a pleasure to meetcha, Jill," she said, her words thoroughly oiled with a lush Irish accent. She smiled and took my hand. "Kevvie's told me so much about you." Her about sounded like a boot—I couldn't help but giggle. "I hope you don't mind the garb. Kev and I had to try the baths, took a wee dip in the drench, we did, and it was fun—not too many childers snapping aboot."

"So you've met my Molly," Kevin said. He stood tall behind her, his hands at her sides, her hips, stroking her bare skin, twanging the dainty string. He beamed at me and Mike. "Didn't I catch me a fine fresh fish of a girl?" At these words Molly twisted her head back so she could look up at him, and he hoisted her up into a mostly sideways and from the top kiss. Kevin is six-four, two inches taller than his dad, and this Molly couldn't have been more than five-two or -three, a good three inches shorter than me. Her belly button was almost even with my eyes. Deep and crinkled, her belly button drew me in, and then I almost blushed, so deeply sexual it was. The pudgy knot in its center begged to be tickled. More than tickled. Licked. Poked. Fucked. Indeed so sexual were my thoughts, nay, so sexual were the images that flooded my mind—Kevin's tongue kissing Molly's belly, drooling kiss juice into that tricky hole—okay, I confess, more than that—a man's penis, big and blunt, pressing its mushroom head against her navel, pressing and coming, filling her belly button with scads of creamy come, all this in a split second—that I had to look away. I had to look down. I looked down. I saw that Kevin's lift had tightened or loosened or shifted Molly's string swimsuit in such a way that for an instant the keyhole of her sex revealed itself, an adorable slot, with the tiny bulge of clit in the upper notch and the small petals etching the material below. Kevin swirled Molly around as the kiss continued, swirled her and swirled her, but I was the one getting dizzy. Still kissing Molly, still swirling her, Kevin led us into the room.