A cross-country trip turns into a night to remember!
"I think, under the circumstances, you can call me Olivia." She peels off her shirt to expose ripe full breasts unjustly imprisoned in a filmy bra, a smooth tan stomach that Megan just wants to rub her face against, and a cute little belly button that sticks in Megan's consciousness for some reason. "Megan," Olivia adds pointedly.
Megan finds it a little hard to breathe as Olivia gets down on all fours, lowering her mouth to Megan's flesh like Dracula's daughter taking a willing victim. At first she just kisses Megan's stomach, slow and strangely romantic, lifting her head after each one so she can gaze lustfully into Megan's eyes as she licks her lips clean and rides the buzz. Then she dips her tongue into Megan's navel and licks her way up to Megan's sternum, between her breasts, then loopily kisses the skin over Megan's heart.
There's an orgasmic sensation Megan eventually recognizes as Olivia's fingers taking a pinch of coke off her stomach, but only when Olivia sprinkles them on Megan's nipple. If it isn't hard before, it is now. Oliviadevoursthe nipple, coke and all, sucking and kissing and licking all at once, and when the buzz hits her she starts in with the teeth and Megan iswhinnying, she didn't even know she couldmakethat sound, but she wants to make it some more.
So she sprinkles some coke on her other nipple and Olivia takes the hint. Whatever secret Kama Sutra technique she's using, it's twice as good the second time around.
When she goes back down for another hit, Olivia is all snorting and sucking, strip-mining Megan's skin of every precious crystal. Megan clamps down on the moan that shoots up straight from her cunt, and it turns into something perversely close to a growl. What Olivia is doing is almost as good as cunnilingus. Almost.
"Hey, Olivia, I hear you're really good at eating pussy," Megan says, figuring flattery will get her everywhere, or at least get Olivia Wilde between her legs. "Show me?"
"Later," Olivia says distractedly as her tongue makes preschool art class patterns over Megan's stomach muscles.
"Please?" Megan begs, eyelashes fluttering.
Olivia laughs and the next thing Megan knows, there are three fingers, inside her for miles, fucking her for days, making her come forever.
But too soon Olivia is pulling away, leaving Megan's stomach as slick as a highway after the rain, and her pussy wide open and just as wet. Megan lies there, panting like she's just run a marathon, only able to look up at Olivia after she's sure the fingers won't come back.
"I don't think I came," she says,j'accuse.
"Give me a minute," Olivia replies, supporting herself on an endtable. Her panties are hanging crooked off her hips, barely covering the heated pink lips that Megan wants to kiss more than anything, and her bra stubbornly refuses to evaporate like Megan wants more than almost anything. "I don't think I've ever had blow this good. I think you'll, like, the secret ingredient to super-coke."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh, I see where you're coming from." Olivia staggers away. "Keep your shirt off."
Megan lays there, hands covering her crotch in a parody of modesty. She'd masturbate if she wasn't half-sure the effort would shake her apart. She feels like a firecracker, a really big, expensive firecracker with a fuse that's burned down to a nub and now stubbornly refuses to blow. She needs Olivia to light her up again, to bring back the heat and make her explode.
The sound of feet slapping against the hardwood floor is the only thing that keeps Megan from humping the futon (which looks like it would like it, the skanky bitch). Olivia returns. Proving that God loves Megan Fox and wants her to be happy, Olivia's underwear has disappeared. In fact, she'd be doing full frontal if it wasn't for the strap-on dildo dangling down to her thigh.
Megan's eyes widen at the sight of the thick bl