Whisky And Cartoons - Sex Stories

Whisky And Cartoons

... to my waist and tucks her thumb in the elastic of my pajamas. “Mind if I look?” “Promise not to laugh?” “I’m already laughing. Don’t be so sensitive.” I turn away, not wanting to see her laugh. Instead of lifting my pajamas, she slides her hand over my pants and rubs my penis softly. She works the middle of it into her hand and squeezes, and then rubs again. It feels different when someone else touches it, more exciting. When I look up she is grinning, but worried. “Is this okay? I don’t want you to have me arrested for m*****ing you.” I squeeze her breast, “I this okay? I don’t want to get arrested.” “Smart ass. Let’s have a look.” She lifts the waistband of my pajamas and underwear, and I tip my head forward to see. My penis is pointing straight at her, and she says, “A little small, but you’ve got some hair down there.” I’m glad she didn’t laugh. “Margie, how do you tell when a girl is turned on?” She continues rubbing gently. “Girls get wet.” “They sweat?” “No, They get wet between their legs.” “Can I see?” “What makes you think I’m turned on?” “I don’t care, I just wanna see.” Margie sighs, leaving a little of the sadness on her face. “This is going to get complicated,” she says. I sit up, but she tells me to sit on the floor in front of her. After staring for a minute, as if she can’t make up her mind, she lifts her hips, slides her pajamas and underwear down her legs, and kicks them away. I can see dark hair below her navel and the puffy skin beneath that looks ...

... folded. I walk to her on my knees until I am touching hers. Little brown hairs appear on her legs a few inches above the knees, and I walk my fingers up until I can twist the longer, curly hair above in my fingers. I lean in close and poke, watching the folds spring back. Margie uses both hands to pull back the skin until I can see more and pinker wet skin. Kind of like looking in someone’s mouth, only I don’t see any hole. I thought there was supposed to be a hole. It smells a little, but not like cat food. “Where is the water?” Margie takes my hand, looks to see if it is clean, separates my first finger and touches it to the soft pink under a fold. “The slipperier that gets, the more turned on the girl is,” she says. I rub the sticky film between my fingers. “Where do I suck?” She pulls the skin back again and points to a tiny pink bump near the top of the fold. “It’s so small.” “Well yeah, compared to a dick.” “And it turns you on if I suck on it?” You don’t actually suck. Remember that thing you did on my nipple with your tongue? That’s what you do. That makes a girl come.” “Where does the white stuff come out?” “Nothing comes out of a girl, dummy, it just feels good.” “Do I use the whiskey?” “God, no,” she laughs. “That would burn it off.” Scooting closer, I bend in and stick out my tongue, being careful not to touch anything before I reach the bump. It looks so soft I’m afraid I might hurt her if I touch the wrong thing. “Hey,” she says, putting her hand on my forehead before ...