Chapter 4: Reaching Florida

We slept through the eleven o'clock checkout time and had to pay for a second night so we decided to stay in St. Augustine for another day.

It was too late for breakfast. In fact, the lunch hour was winding down. The waitresses were seated at a table at the rear of the restaurant. One of them rushed to meet us at the door, warned us to stay clear of the wet floor where a busboy was mopping, and guided us to an out-of-the-way table.

"You look like you just got out of bed," she said, as she placed menus in front of us.

"We had a long travel day yesterday," I explained.

"The specials are all gone. Everything on the left side of the menu is available. Would you like coffee or something to drink?"

We'd had coffee in the room, but Megan and I looked at each other before saying, "Yes, coffee."

She walked to the table where her co-workers were seated, spoke to the youngest member of the group, and took a seat at the table. The younger girl put on a fresh pot of coffee, and came to our table to tell us that it would be ready very soon. Her name tag read, 'Sally, ' and she couldn't have been over seventeen.

"You all know what you want or do you need a minute to decide?"

"We haven't decided yet," Megan said, smiling at the girl. "What do you recommend?"

"The cook's on his break until four. Molly makes a pretty good turkey club. Would you like fries?"

She was posed to write our order on her pad, but paused when she saw that we were undecided. She leaned down and whispered, "The turkey's fresh, and I'll make sure she cooks the bacon good."

We grinned at each other and nodded at Sally.

"Is pumpernickel okay?"

We told her pumpernickel would be fine.

"Fries?" she asked again.

We nodded. She took our menus and left to hand the order to the older waitress who had seated us. She was back in seconds with two steaming cups of coffee.

"What's there to do here?" I asked.

Sally was not tall. She shifted her weight to her right foot, stretching her uniform to the side.

"There's not much. We work and go to the beach. That's about it."

"Are we keeping you from going to the beach?" I asked, noting how tan her arms were.

"No, we go in the morning. My boyfriend works the night shift. We like to get there before the crowds, when it's not so hot."

"What about school?" Megan asked.

Sally frowned. "How old do you think I am? I graduated last year."

Megan started to apologize for assuming the girl was still in high school, but Sally was gone, probably to make sure our bacon was cooked 'good'.

Our sandwiches arrived, covered with French fries. Sally brought the coffee pot to the table and refilled our cups. I tried to find out if the town had a running track, but all Sally was sure about was how to get to the beach. "You should go," she said, speaking more to Megan than to me.

After lunch, we walked around aimlessly until we approached a man sitting in a horse drawn carriage.

"I'll show you this old town," he said, and for the next hour, he drove us through the streets, talking constantly about the history of the town. It was five o'clock when we got back to the place where we'd first seen him.

"What now?" I asked.

"Let's go back to the room," she said. I smiled to show her that I liked the idea. She bumped my ass and slipped her hand in mine.

It was a four block walk, and I teased her the entire time.

"I want to see it," I said.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't," she said, blushing to show that she knew, exactly.

"Did you shave it for me?"

"No," she answered, indignantly.

"Is that the first time you shaved it?"

She tried to look thoughtful, like she couldn't remember. From the way she was blushing, I knew that it was. "No," she said, bluffing.

"It was the first time, and you did it for me, didn't you?"

She bumped my ass again. "Did you like it?"

Now she was the one teasing. I couldn't let her get by with that.

"I need to see it to see if you did a good job."

"You liked it in the dark and you'll like it in the light."

"Why didn't you stay on top of me last night?"

I felt her squeeze my hand before she answered. "It's not as easy that way as it is when you're on your stomach, and anyway, you're thing woke me."

"My thing woke you? Are you saying I got hard?"

Megan stopped walking, and took on a serious look as we stood face to face. "Sammy, don't try to tell me you slept through that."

"Slept through what?"

She started to walk again, faster than before. I asked repeatedly what she was talking about. She wouldn't tell me. When we got inside the room, she began stripping off her clothes.

"I'm going to show you, and then we'll go for a run. Do you know which direction we should go, or do we need to ask someone?"

"Megan, what did I do? Why are you acting this way?"

Her T-shirt was on the floor, and she was unhooking her bra. I watched her kick off her sneakers and unbutton the shorts she'd put on that morning. I stopped her when she was down to her panties.

"Megan, I was teasing. You don't have to show me unless you want to."

"You want to inspect me and I want to show you that I did a good job," she said, lowering her panties to the floor and stepping out of them. She came to within a foot from me and stopped, watching me for my reaction to her bald pussy.

I could have easily reached out and touched her, on the tummy, her inner thigh or even her pussy, but there was something about the way she was watching me that made me hold back. Her gaze was steady, and there was no sign of arousal.

"You did a good job," I said, looking up at her.

"Thank you," she answered, moving away. "Let's get ready to go."

"Go? It's too early. Let's wait until it cools off out there."

She was going through her bag, pulling out running gear. Did she know that the way she was bending over was giving me an erection? "Sammy, we agreed that we were going to run. Get ready and let's go."

"I don't think you realize how hot it is. Anyway, I didn't finish inspecting the job you did."

"You said it was a good job," she reminded me.

"That was based on a preliminary examination. Visually, it looks like a good job."

"What other kind of examination is there?" she asked, dropping her running shorts as she turned to expose her naked pussy. I decided she knew the effect she was having on my cock.

"There's the touch method."

She looked at me, dispassionately, like the touch method was new to her. "You want to feel it, with your finger?"

"That's one way," I conceded.

"Is there another way?" she asked, showing mild interest.

"The lips are more sensitive than the fingers."

"Which lip?" she demanded to know.

"The lower one, I think, although, I could be wrong."

"If I let you feel me with your lower lip, will you be able to tell me if I did a good job?" she asked, as she approached.

A naked beauty was standing a foot away. I looked into her eyes, wondering how much more I could take.

"A thorough examination would involve feeling one side with my lower lip, and repeating the process on the other side with my upper lip," I said, looking for any indication that she was crumbling, and seeing none.

"The process?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, will you permit me to exercise the process as I described it?"

"You propose to feel one side of my pussy with your lower lip and the other side with your upper lip, and you call that a 'process?'"

"While my terminology may be somewhat ... ah ... primitive, I believe you get the idea."

"How long will this process take?"

"Not long at all," I said, encouraged by her question.

"How would we go about it?"

"You will lie on the bed."

"On my back?" she asked, already moving to the bed.

"Yes, please."

"Should I open ... why are you taking your clothes off?"

"Didn't I tell you? This is an important part of the process."

"No, you didn't tell me, but if it's important to the process, I suppose..."

Her legs were open, bent at the knees as she watched me lower my shorts to the floor. A gasp came to her lips when she saw how my cock was waving, fairly jumping really.

She sort of squirmed on the bed as I approached, repositioning her ass, making room for me. She showed definite signs of arousal. Her pussy lips were open, the aroma was pungent, and her breathing had quickened.

I watched with satisfaction as she gave me a 'get-on-with-it' look.

I expected her to complain that it wasn't part of the process when I blew hot air on her pussy. I looked up to see a shudder rock her body. Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed.

My lower lip brushed the side of her pussy. I did it again to make sure there was no stubble, and felt none. She opened her legs when I moved to the other side. My upper lip detected absolutely no stubble. A second pass confirmed my finding.

Her eyes shot open when she felt me move backward. "You're right. That was an excellent job you did."

I was on my feet when she spoke. "Sammy, the tongue is even more sensitive than the lips."

"Are you suggesting that I amend the process, Megan?"

"It's true. Everyone says the tongue is more sensitive than the lips."

"Everyone? Do you have proof that the tongue is more sensitive than the lips?"

She repositioned her ass, and I feared that she was going to give up. Couldn't she see the way my cock was waving? She closed her legs, and then opened them wide, to reveal a collection of moisture.

"It's only a theory that needs to be proven. It's worth a try, isn't it?"

She was no longer teasing. She was begging me to lick her pussy, and I was in no mood to tease either. I went right for her slit, not caring if she'd done a good job shaving or not.

Megan's hands were on my head, and she was making noises that I'd not heard before, raspy little votes of approval, as I wiggled my tongue from side to side, and furiously tried to suck her inside out. By the time I moved to her clit, she was screaming, "Don't stop, stop, don't stop, please stop!"

I paid no attention to her pleading until I felt her fingernails digging into the side of my head.

She was attempting to smile, but there were tears streaming from her eyes. I could see that she needed a minute to recover. I was wrong. At the end of three minutes she was still trembling.

I didn't want to wait any longer. My cock was aching. I moved up to take one of her nipples between my lips. She cradled my head in her hands, cooing to me. I glanced at her face as I switched to the other nipple. She must have recognized the need in my eyes.

"Hold that thought," she said, slipping out from under me and disappearing into the bathroom. She was back in seconds, taking her position on her back.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'll never tease you again," she said, as she guided my cock into her opening.

"Don't stop. I enjoy it."

"Not half as much as you're going to enjoy this," she said as she tucked her knees against her breasts, and used her arms to hold me close. I slid my hands under her ass to give her leverage. We didn't talk more. The teasing had gotten the better of me, and as hard as I tried, I didn't last long.

Megan just laughed at my attempt to apologize, saying she understood. "I got the best of that round," she giggled.

We lay side by side on our backs, resting, too exhausted to even think about getting off the bed.

"Does that mean you want another round?"

She wrinkled her nose, "Maybe."

"You're cute when you make that face."

"You're cute when you make up stuff like 'the process, '" she said, laughing as she placed her head on my chest.

I stoked her hair. "What did I do last night that aggravated you?"

She lifted her head. "It's what you didn't do."

"Did I really have a hardon? You could have had your way with me."

"No, I couldn't."

"What do you mean?"

"I tried. You just lay there, like you didn't know I existed."

"You tried? Does that mean what I think it means?"

"You wouldn't fuck me back," she said, so softly that I wasn't sure if I'd heard her correctly.

"Did I go soft?"

She absent-mindedly licked my nipple before answering, "No."

"What made you stop? Why didn't you have your fun?"

"It's not the same if you don't fuck me back."

"It had been a long day. I was tired," I replied, trying to justify the reason I had not done my part.

"I know, but I took it as a rejection."

"Come here," I said, pulling her to me. "I would never knowingly reject you."

Her lips were soft, but her kiss was brief. "Hey, let's go for that run. That way, we'll only need to take one shower."

"Okay," I said, getting to my feet, "but don't be so sure that we won't need more than one shower."

She looked at me, suspiciously, before she understood my point, and then she smiled that cute, affectionate smile.

We must have reeked of sex as we ran through the streets. I didn't mind the smell; it distracted me from the oppressive heat. If the heat or the smell bothered Megan, she didn't let on. Once we found the beach, the ocean air melted some of the stench away.

We showered, stopped at the motel office for restaurant information, and took the clerk's advice. Megan resumed the teasing as soon as the waiter took our orders.

"Do you really like my shaved pussy, or were you just saying that you like it?"

"Megan, I'm known you for over nine months, and I never guessed that you were a tease."

"Does that mean you don't like it?"

"How could I not like it? It's a work of art."

"What's a work of art, my pussy or the shave?"

"Both."

"Sammy, you fucked me five times that first night. Not once did I hear you say my pussy was a work of art."

Our wine arrived, and I used the interruption to plan what I was going to say in retort.

"One or two of those times was the next morning. I didn't know your pussy as intimately back then as I've come to know it since that night."

"I must be mistaken. I thought you got to know it pretty well as soon as you introduced yourself that night."

It was plain to see that she was not going to stop until she embarrassed me. I was just as determined not to let that happen. She watched me pour the wine. We touched our glasses and took the first sip before trying to out-barb each other.

"Yes, we got off to a good start, but we became closer after you put the razor to it. It's much easier to get to know someone after they take off their clothes."

Megan toyed with her wineglass before asking me to describe it.

"Describe your pussy?" I asked, just as the waiter arrived to take our orders. Megan had not looked at the menu, but settled for the same thing I was having, explaining later that she didn't want the waiter to come back and eavesdrop on me as I was describing her pussy.

"Your pussy is like a flower in the early morning, before the sun evaporates the dew. As the breeze gently flows over the petals, they open, exposing a full range of pink blossoms. The fragrance is captivating, and the nectar is delectable."