The Failure Notice, Part 2 - Cover

The Failure Notice, Part 2

by A. P. Damien

Copyright© 2023 by A. P. Damien

BDSM Sex Story: It turns out that the wrong person got hanged in part 1. This time the real miscreant gets to dangle and the faculty members responsible for the error "do the honorable thing".

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Coercion   Consensual   Gay   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   BDSM   Snuff   Anal Sex   Oral Sex   .

Author’s Note: The first few paragraphs of this story are repeated from part 1.

Thursday Morning


Dean Lawson pressed the intercom button. “Yes, Ms. Phelps.”

“It’s Professor Hartley. She says it’s urgent.”

“Thank you.”

The Dean picked up his phone. “What is it, Professor?”

“I just discovered the most horrible mistake. I sent a fail notice to Josie Dawson, but it should have gone to Joe Dawswell. My TA pulled the wrong card from the file. I need to get a message to Dawson and tell her it’s a mistake. I hope I’m not too late!”

“My office received a notification that Josie Dawson was hanged at the Eta Nu Gamma fraternity house at 2PM yesterday.”

“Oh. That means...”


“I see. Well ... I’ll send corrected failure notice to Mr. Dawswell, and of course one for my TA. And I’ll arrange my own snuff as well.”

“But you’re a professor. We don’t snuff professors for an innocent mistake, How about giving up your pay for the rest of the year, or something?”

“No. I hold myself to the same strict standard as I do my students and TAs. I should have double-checked that F-notice before I sent it to your office.”

“It’s your right, but ... Will you at least recommend someone to replace you?”

“How about promoting Assistant Professor Wang to full Professor? His students love his lower-division Asphyxia courses.”

“I’ll ask him to take over your classes for the rest of the year. If he works out, he’ll get the promotion.”

“I can’t really ask for more. Thank you.”


Kimber Beckham picked up her phone and hit Answer. “Yes, Professor?”

“Come see me at once.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Kim not-quite ran to Professor Hartley’s office. She rapped once.

“Come in, Ms. Beckham.”

She walked in. “Professor?”

“Do you remember the student who cheated on last week’s exam?”

“Of course. Joe Dawswell.”

“And you got his card out of the file and gave it to me so I could write out a Failure Notice?”


“I just got off the phone with the Dean. You got out the wrong card. The F-Notice went to Josie Dawson. She was hanged at Eta Nu Gamma yesterday afternoon.”

“Oh, sh- ... no!”

“Oh, yes. You know what this means.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to prepare an F-Notice for Dawswell. Get me his card. And make sure you get the right one this time!”

Kim went to the outer office, opened the file cabinet, and grabbed the enrollment cards for Ax204. She thumbed through them to the Ds and pulled out Joe Dawswell’s card. She looked at it again to make sure she had the right one, then went back in and laid it on Professor Hartley’s desk.

The professor had already pulled a Failure Notice form up on her screen. “Stick around while I fill this out and print it. Then run it over to the Dean’s office.”


Kim retired to the outer office and sat down to think about what she needed to do next.

Two minutes later the printer whirred into life and ejected the form. Another page followed it. Kim picked them up and brought them to the professor, who checked the name again, then scribbled a signature. “There. Now go!”

Kim picked up the form, looked it over to make sure everything was correct, then read the second sheet. She hurried to the Dean’s office.

“Go right in, the Dean is waiting,” Ms. Phelps told her.

Kim opened the door, walked in, and laid the form on the desk. The Dean picked it up, read it quickly, and added his initials. “Give this to Phelps and wait while she types up the F-notice. Bring it back for me to sign, then deliver it to Dawswell’s mailbox.”

As soon as the form was signed, Kim took it to Dawswell’s dorm and put it in his mailbox.

After lunch

Joe glanced at his mailbox on his way back to his room to study. WHAT!! Joe tore the envelope open and read the notice.

October 26, 2045

Joseph Dawswell
Ingham Hall

Mr. Dawswell,

This is to notify you that you have failed class Ax204: Advanced Asphyxia Techniques. You are required to do one of the following no later than sunset on October 29:

Contact your professor to appeal this notice. Report to the University Gallows to be hanged by the neck until dead. Make alternate arrangements.

Yours truly,

Delbert Lawson
Dean of Students

Alternate arrangements ... Eta Nu Gamma, maybe. I’ve heard they’ll help anybody who wants to make a splashy final exit. I’ll have to ask.

There was a second sheet of paper. What???

Mr. Dawswell:

True that a Lucite tube is invisible in water, but the part that sticks up above the water can be seen by a camera with the correct filter. Just FYI, of course.

I assume you remember the University’s Honor Code:

No member of the Dolcett University community shall take unfair advantage of any other member of the community.

You have violated that.

And my TA made a mistake, so Ms. Josie Dawson received the F-notice that should have gone to you and was hanged yesterday at Eta Nu Gamma fraternity.

While University policy allows you a choice as stated in the official Failure Notice that accompanies this note, I consider this to be a special case. I expect you to either:

Arrange to die by waterboarding, or Hang publicly on the University Gallows.

(unreadable scrawled signature)

Waterboarding. I could cope with beheading, shooting, just about any other type of asphyxiation, even impalement -- very painful, but so sexy. But drowning-- I can’t face that. That’s why I cheated the underwater endurance test. And the Uni gallows: that means a long drop -- all over in less than a second. Totally unsexy. But the prof is right. I don’t deserve a sexy death. And leaving Dolcett U -- I’m not that much of a coward. Well, I have three days to figure it out.

Joe pulled the Dolcett U catalog down from the top shelf of his bookcase and opened it, then sat there staring at the table of contents until the sound of voices in the hallway reminded him that it was nearly lunchtime. He pulled a memo pad in front of him and wrote:
get boxes

Then he scratched out the last. No way. I’m going to stay here and take my punishment.

Joe went down to the dining room. Lunch was do-it-yourself BLTs. He put two pieces of toast, three strips of bacon, three lettuce leaves, four slices of tomato, and a slice of avocado on his plate. Gale handed him a bowl of mayo. He spread some on the toast, then sat staring at his plate.

Tallulah looked at him across the table. “Earth to Joe. What’s up.”

“Umm ... I guess I’m just not very hungry today.”

“But BLTs. You love them.”

“Not today.”

“Just remember: if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it. BFF as well as FWB.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Joe eventually managed to eat two bacon slices with half a piece of toast.

I hate to waste the food, but if I eat anything more I’ll throw up.

“You don’t want any more?” Tallulah asked.

“Really, no.”

Gale ate the other slice of bacon, then used a fork to transfer the avocado slice to Tallulah. Joe felt a tiny bit better as he headed up to his room. He opened his laptop, searched for mood music, and found something comfortable. He lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to meditate.

After about 10 minutes he gave up. He checked his class schedule and nearly decided to just chuck it.

Then he remembered: Sn 173: Intermediate Snuff Techniques at 3PM. Professor Wilkerson had scheduled a demonstration. One of us is going to get impaled. That’ll be worth watching. And if the Prof chooses me, well, I won’t have to worry about the other...

Or... his conscience kicked in, maybe you should show him the note from Professor Hartley. If he chooses you in spite of that, then you’ve really done your best.

Okay, okay. Joe brought the F-notice and the note that came with it, just in case. He handed them to Professor Anderson as he came in. The prof glanced at them and said, “Okay. Not that it matters: I’m choosing a female for this demo.”

Professor Anderson consulted his seating chart, then turned to the class. “Marni Ecclestone, come up and help us demonstrate an anal impalement.

Marni positioned her little star above the pointed wood stake with a brave smile, and bent her legs to get the stake set inside her rectum, then gripped the shaft with her knees and thighs. Marni pulled her feet up and allowed herself to slide down slowly. Ricki was sitting next to Joe and rubbed him while they watched Marni wriggle and sometimes scream as she slid down the spear. Whether the screams were pain or pleasure..., Joe looked at her face. Pleasure and pain fighting it out, with pleasure mostly winning.

It was nearly 20 minutes from when Marni mounted the stake until she stopped moving. By the time it was over, Ricki had yipped her way through at least two orgasmsand Joe had a small wet spot on the right leg of his jeans.

After class, Joe went to the student store, bought some packing boxes, and carried them back to his room.

He lay down on his bed, put Eine Kleine Nachtmusik on repeat, and relaxed. Every once in a while, the question of waterboarding or long drop tried to intrude. He hummed along until the music replaced all other thoughts, then went back into his meditation.

The sound of doors closing in the hall brought him out. He brushed his hair and went down to dinner. Fried chicken, yum.

Joe put a few pieces on his plate. He picked up a drumstick, bit into it, and put it down. His appetite had vanished. Again. This time Tallulah was sitting next to him. She touched his shoulder. “Joe, what’s wrong?”

“My stomach is threatening to go on strike.”

“Okay.” Tallulah took the rest of Joe’s drumstick and ate it. She’d already eaten a whole breast. Joe wondered how she managed to keep such a gorgeous figure.

She followed when Joe got up. “What’s up, Joe? You normally eat like a trencherman. I’ve always wondered how you keep from bloating up like a zeppelin.”

“I’m trying to make a decision, and I don’t like any of the alternatives.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now. Maybe tomorrow?”


Joe thought, but didn’t say, I hope.

Friday morning

Breakfast was Belgian waffles. Joe managed to eat half of his, after scraping off most of the whipped cream and about a third of the blueberries. He went back to his room, still a little queasy, and started putting things in boxes. Textbooks to the charity for students who couldn’t afford to buy them. His good suit, blazer, and ties to his family. Class notes to Iota Kappa to help next year’s juniors. He put the rest of his clothes into a box, looked around the room, and tossed everything else into unlabeled boxes. Ha! Let somebody else decide.

Tallulah knocked on his door a few minutes after ten.


“Okay, Joe, what’s up about this decision?”

He showed her the Fail notice,

“What’s the problem? I always figured you’d choose the spit or maybe a short drop if you needed to get snuffed.”

“I’m ... ashamed,” he whispered.

“What? Why?”

He gave her the second sheet, the one from Professor Hartley.


“I feel like I deserve the waterboarding, but I just can’t face it. Too much like drowning. And the University Gallows: that means a long drop. No sexy strangling. Just Clack! Snap! Gone! Not exactly satisfactory.”

Tallulah smiled. “I have a foolproof system for difficult decisions. I use it when there are two options I really like, but it’ll work equally well for two options you dislike.”

Joe made a “tell me more” gesture.

“Take a coin out of your pocket.”

“Okay.” Joe reached down and pulled out a quarter.

“Now, decide which option is heads and which is tails.”

“Okay ... heads is waterboarding, tails is the gallows.”

Joe flipped the quarter. It came up heads. He sat there staring at it for a good ten seconds.

“You obviously aren’t happy with that. Now, here’s the secret of my method. If you don’t like the result of the flip, you get to flip again. And repeat until you’ve made your decision.”

“Hmmm...” Joe tossed the quarter again. This time he covered it with his hand when it landed. He waited a few seconds, then sneaked a peak. Heads again.

Another flip. Another peek. This time it came up tails. It took about two seconds for Joe to realize he’d made his decision.

“I’ve decided on the gallows.”

“See? Want some more help?” She puckered her lips.

“Maybe ... No guarantees.”

Tallulah grabbed his head and kissed him. Tongues were exchanged. They sat on the bed and Joe reached under her blouse and “felt her up.” But when she started to unzip him, he touched her hand. “I think Second Base is all I want right now.”

“That’s fine.”

They spent a good half-hour playing feelies, then straightened out their clothes.

“I’d suggest you go into the bathroom and take care of that...” She pointed to the bulge in his trousers. “Otherwise, you’re risking blue balls.”

“Maybe I deserve them.”

“Oh. Well, if that’s how you feel.”

Joe got blue balls as predicted, but not a very bad case and it was over in less than an hour.

Joe had no more problems with his digestive system after that. He even ate -- and enjoyed -- dessert.

Joe went straight to his room, logged onto the Uni’s discipline center, and made an appointment at the University Gallows, 5:20 that afternoon. Then he knocked on Tallulah’s door. “I’ve scheduled my hanging for 5:20,” he told her.

“I’ll spread the word.”


He went back to his room and emailed his friends, Professor Hartley, and as many Ax204 classmates as he could remember. He logged onto the class website and added a notice there. He took off his clothes, set the alarm for 4:45, and took a nap.

Friday afternoon

Joe woke up at half past 4, got out of bed, and debated whether to walk to the gallows naked, or put on a bathrobe and slip out of it when he got there. He decided on the first. Not like other students haven’t seen me naked in class or wherever.

He reset the alarm for 5:05, put his student ID card on the desk, and settled down to watch some hanging videos.

When the alarm went off, he picked up the ID card and started walking toward the quad. Tallulah was already waiting in the lounge, along with quite a few of his friends and acquaintances. They formed a tail about 10 feet long behind him. More students joined as he walked the 4 blocks to the quad.

He got there at 5:15. Professor Hartley and her TA, Kimber, were waiting. They applauded him silently. He presented his ID to the grad student in charge, who checked him off, then dropped it in the slot of a steel box with a padlock.

As Joe climbed up the steps, he noticed that he was getting hard.

The hangman -- a grad student that Joe vaguely recognized -- greeted Joe as he stepped onto the platform. “Hands.”

Joe crossed his wrists behind his back. The hangman put a zip tie around Joe’s wrists and pulled it very tight. He measured Joe’s neck with a cloth tape, then walked him to the X near the edge of the trap. The hangman pulled the noose open, and Joe bent his head to accept it. The hangman adjusted the noose, then pressed a button. The rope retracted until the noose tightened slightly. And Joe realized: he was so hard it was painful. A few seconds later the rope slackened. But Joe was still hard. Maybe the long drop isn’t as boring as I’d thought.

Joe looked around for a scale, then remembered that there was a scale built into the trapdoor.

Joe heard quiet footsteps on the stairs. A few seconds later a naked blonde knelt in front of him. “May I give sir last pleasure?”

Joe was gobsmacked. Here was a beautiful girl, at least an 8, offering him a blowjob. But... “I ... this is my punishment. I cheated on a practical test, and another student was unjustly hanged as a result. I’m not sure if...”

The girl hesitated. “But you’re so cute. And so hard. And I have this fantasy about sucking somebody just before they hang. And ... well ... it counts toward my sexual variety merit badge. Please...?”

Joe was torn between his conscience, his libido, and the pleading look on the coed’s face.

The co-ed looked up into his face. “For fuck’s sake. Do you wanna cum before you drop or not?”

He looked around for inspiration and saw Tallulah holding up a quarter. He nodded.

Tallulah flipped the quarter. “Tails”.

Joe consulted his conscience, then his libido. “Flip it again, please?”


Another victory for Tallulah’s method. Joe looked down at the girl. “What’s your name, lovely?”

“Fanny Jennings.”

“My name is Joe. Joe Dawswell. Go ahead. Just ... for yourself, not for me.”

“An unusual request, but okay. And thank you.” Fanny licked his tip gently, then ran her tongue along the underside, from the base to the frenum. Joe moaned. She wrapped her mouth around him and started sliding up and down, slowly at first, then faster, timing her movements to Joe’s noises. In less time than he would have believed possible, he was cumming in her mouth. She swallowed the first spurt, then pulled back. The second spurt went on her face.

And then Joe was falling, the pleasure still pulsing from his balls up through his body. There was a cracking sound, a burst of pain in his neck, and then nothing.

Joe’s body turned slowly, nearly halfway around to the left, then back to facing the watchers, then to the right, and back again. One final glob of semen arced through the air and fell to the ground just in front of the watchers. His head was cranked backwards and to the left at a seemingly impossible angle. His feet pointed downward, then upward, then downward. After that the only movement was a slow back-and-forth swaying.

After fifteen minutes, even the swaying had stopped. A woman in scrubs put a stethoscope to Joe’s chest, listened for a few seconds, then nodded her head. “He’s gone.”

Professor Hartley turned to Kim. “Well, that’s done. Now we can take care of our own snuffs. Have you decided on yours?”

“You know those chairs in Eta Nu Gamma house? The ones they use to test would-be pledges commitment?”

“Yeah. saw that my first year at DU, even though I decided to join Delta Psi Tau instead. Watching the wanna-bes hold down the button while the rope strangled them. Charleton Selby was the first to let go. They took him upstairs, put a noose around his neck, and I swear he had the biggest smile as he stepped off the balcony. He came twice before he stopped struggling. I’d bet money he did it on purpose.”

“Right. And Kimiko Taniguchi outlasted the others and became an Eta. She was chapter VP for two years, and was valedictorian in her class.”

“Well, if you tap the button three times in five seconds the cord will stay tight for a full half hour.”

“That sounds like fun,” Professor Hartley said. “But I bet my plan is even more unusual.”


“I’ve had this fantasy of being strangled to death by a penis.”

“Cock-choking? That’s kind of messy, but I saw it demonstrated in Sexual Variety 130 my sophomore year.”

“No, not cock-choking. A cock pressing on my neck, squeezing my throat shut.”

Kim stopped and thought about it. “Wow! That is unusual. Do you have anybody in mind?”

“No. I’ll need somebody with real staying power.”

“Why don’t you come to Eta house and watch me get strangled. And you’ll find some pretty kinky people there.”

“Hmm ... Okay.”

Kim grabbed the professor and kissed her. “For luck.”

Wilma reached under Kim’s blouse and fondled her tits. “Yeah.”

That led to another kiss, and some of the students cheered them. They broke apart after a few seconds.

“See ya this evening.”

“Sure. I have one last class to teach, but I’ll be there for you.”

Kimber went back to her apartment, checked to make sure the boxes were taped shut and labeled. She changed into her “dating” outfit: “nude”-colored nylons and a gold lamé slip-dress that clung to her figure as if painted on. She taped the “snuffee” sign to her unlocked door, activated a rental scooter and went off to Eta Nu Gamma house.

Aldous Watson, who’d been a sophomore when Kim was a senior, grabbed her in a hug the moment she walked through the door. “Kimber Beckham! Good to see you again. What brings you back to visit us lowly undergrads?”

“I came here to get snuffed, actually.”

“Hmmmm. Should I wish you congratulations or condolences?”

“Condolences. It’s sort of like flunking out, but different.”

“So what did you have in mind.”

“I want one of the strangling chairs at the front of the room.”

“Anything else? A special meal? Sex?”

“Getting to eat with my friends here in Eta house is all the special I want. But sex ... That gives me an interesting idea. How about a raffle? Sell tickets as usual, draw three. The first winner gets to execute me. The second winner gets to have sex with me, any way they want. And the third winner gets the same but it has to be different from the second winner’s choice.”

“Let’s talk to Lottie Bellamy.”

“Oh, yeah. I met her in my senior year. The coed they call ‘Radar’, right?


“I remember ... People were talking about her and I didn’t understand. Somebody ... Oh, yeah, that basketball player, Taylor Campbell ... sat me down with a Blu-Ray set of MAS*H -- the original version with Alda, not that stupid remake with Jenson Brewer. Yeah. Let’s”

Aldous led Kim to Lottie. “Beckham here wants to arrange something special.”

Lottie smiled. “Tell me about it.”

Kim explained.

“Oh, yeah, no prob. I’ll have it set up before dinner is served.” Lottie showed Kim to a seat at the high table, then went off to talk to a couple of seniors. She came back a few minutes later. “It’s all arranged.”

The professor showed up a few minutes before people started migrating into the dining room. The entire house applauded her, and Rod Sowards, the chapter VP, stood up and gestured for her to take his seat at the high table. One of the juniors offered Rod her seat. He smiled and bowed. “I owe you.” She nodded, and took an empty seat at a table of frosh.

Kim touched Wilma.

“What?” she whispered.

“Tell her.” Kim waved a hand toward Lottie. “She’s...”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of Radar.”

Wilma switched seats with Kim so she could talk to Lottie. “I hear you ‘arrange’ things.”

“What do you need?”

Wilma explained about being strangled by a cock.

“Wow! Thank you!”

“What? Why are you thanking me?”

“You managed to come up with something I never heard of before. This is going to be fun.” She put a fiver on the table. “Bet you a fin I can have it arranged before dinner is over.”

Wilma smiled, reached into her purse, and put another fiver on top of Lottie’s. “It’s a bet.”

The waiters were bringing out dessert when Lottie leaned over. “It’s all arranged. There’s this guy, Nat Sergeant. He’s a Delta -- your frat, right?


“According to my contact, he’s got a 7-inch dick and he can fuck for half an hour without stopping or getting soft.”

“And he’s willing?”

“Chrissie Rivers, my contact at Delta, says he practically jumped up and down when he heard what you wanted.”

“Great! You win.”

Lottie picked up the two bills and tucked them into her cleavage.

Everybody went back to the main room after dinner; Devin stood up and announced Kim’s plans: “Kimber Beckham is a TA in the Asphyxia department and an Eta. She received an F-notice, and she wants to be strangled to death in one of our testing chairs.” The members applauded. When that had died down, he announced the raffle and the prizes. The applause was even louder, with cheers and whistles.

When it was starting to die down, one of the seniors shouted, “You go, Beckham!” and the applause got louder again. Kim blushed and smiled. Just listening to her plans from someone else’s mouth brought an anticipation, a little bit of pleasure emanating from between her thighs.

The members lined up to buy tickets. Devin turned the barrel ten times, then pushed it over to Kim. She undid the latch, opened the door, reached in, and read the number. “181.”

Emerson Judd, a tall, slim sophomore, stood up and yelled “Yes!” He showed his ticket to Kim, who nodded. “You get to do the honors.”

“And I’m going to really enjoy putting that silk cord around your neck and pushing the button.”

Kim smiled and kissed him, then groped his package. He turned red and went back to his seat. She latched the door, spun the barrel again, and drew another ticket. “246.”

A stocky boy who looked barely 18 stood up, and waved his ticket, then handed it to Kim. “I’m Sanford Cartwright. I don’t think you know me: I’m a brand new pledge.”

Kim nodded and gave him a quick kiss. Then she gave the barrel one more turn, opened the door, plunged her hand deep into the barrel, and pulled out one more ticket. “208,” she called out.

“That’s me.” A petite blond came over and showed her ticket.

“Meagan Daubney. I remember you, you were a frosh my senior year. You’ll be the last sex I ever have. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“I will. I think you will too.” Meagan gave Kim a tentative kiss. Kim made it rather less tentative.

“Well, let’s go on to the fun.” Kim unzipped her dress and slowly let it fall to the floor, then stepped out of it. She sat down and pulled off her stockings, then stood up, cupped her breasts, and turned slowly around, making sure everybody got a good look. She walked over to Cartwright and turned around again. “What’s your pleasure?”

Cartwright drew himself up to his full 5’5” height and pointed at the floor. “On your knees, slut.”

The entire room gasped. Devin glared at him. “You do not talk that way to another Eta. Or to any grad student, much less ex-professor Hartley’s TA. What is the motto of Eta Nu Gamma?”

Sanford turned red. “To be an Eta is to be a mentsch.”

“Is that how a mentsch talks to someone who isn’t your sub?”

“Umm ... no.”

“Then behave like an Eta.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Sanford turned back to face Kim. “Would you please do me with your mouth? And, maybe, like a working girl in a back alley?”

“I’ll be happy to.”

Kim put her hands on Sanford’s hips and maneuvered him until he was standing with his back against the rear wall of the room. She leaned in for a kiss, then a French kiss, then spent 5 minutes kissing his ears, his neck, his eyelids, while she fondled the rapidly growing bulge in his trousers.

“Please,” he moaned. “Please do it.”

Kim got down on one knee, unzipped Sanford, and undid his belt. She pulled his jeans down to his knees, then his undies, and wrapped her lips around his cock. She sucked him into her mouth, then pulled her lips back to his glans. She did this a few more times, then cradled his balls in her hand while she first licked, then gently sucked them. She grabbed the base in one hand, took him in her mouth again and slid her lips down to meet her hand, then up to the frenum, down, up, again and again. She moved slowly at first, then as he got noisier she moved faster, and faster. At last he came screaming in her mouth. She slowed down, licking the underside but leaving his glans mostly alone. She opened her mouth to let him see his semen on her tongue, then swallowed.

“Was that what you wanted, hon? Did I give you your ticket’s worth?”

“Oh, yeah!!” he panted and started to slide down the wall. She helped him sit down on the floor, gave his cock a friendly pat, then walked up to the blonde.

“What did you have in mind, Meagan?”

“Sixty-nine? Would that be okay?”

“I’ll be happy to do that.” Kim looked around for something softer than the floor. A few seconds later a pair of seniors came in, one carrying a queen-sized air mattress, the other a bicycle pump. In a couple of minutes, the mattress was in the middle of the floor, fully inflated. “Will this do, milady?”

“It’s lovely.” Kim turned to Meagan. “Would you like to lie on top of me or on the bottom?”

“Top, please.”

Kim lay down on the mattress and spread her legs. Meagan lay down on top of Kim, licked her fingers, and gently caressed Kim’s labia. Kim raised her head slightly and sniffed. No question, she’s ready. Kim fingers gently spread the blonde’s labia apart and she started licking Meagan’s clit.

Meagan caught on quick; her tongue delved into Kim’s snatch and found the little button. Both women abandoned caution for libido and started flicking each other’s clits with their tongues. Within a minute, each had two fingers deep into the other’s cunt.

They kept this up for over 15 minutes. The only time a tongue was still was when its owner was screaming her pleasure.

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