Mikey’s New Girlfriend
By: Largent C. Lange
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 by Largent C. Lange
Smashwords Edition License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold. Thank you for not redistributing the story without throwing a bone my way.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
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“I dunno,” said Mindy. “You think we’re still going to get together with our college friends like this when we’re 40?”
“Ummwum.” It was the best response I could think of.
“I mean, Tom and Cindy already have kids. Plural. It just seems— Ohhh.”
I’d like to take credit for shutting her up with my mad cunnilingual skills. But it was dumb luck. Or maybe her frame of mind. She always got on a little tangent over oral before our annual get-together with our college friends. Still, I made a mental note that a light upward stroke with the tip of my tongue on the upper part of her clit was ‘super-effective’. I followed it up by tonguing the alphabet—I’d heard that from some comedian I was too drunk to remember—and by the time I got to H her hand was on the back of my head pressing me into her.
I like giving Mindy head. She’d just gotten out of the tub, so my nose was filled by the mix of that floral girly smell along with just enough of the juices of her excitement to get me going.
By the time her inner thighs were quivering against my ears and her moans filled the room, Mindy’s concern about the future of our yearly reunions was as forgotten as the panties she’d meant to slide on when I jumped her. It must have been a good one—though my tongue was as wore out as my pecs got after four sets of 200’s, I soldiered on and hung in there. By the time her orgasm subsided, it was numb and I had to make do with nodding yes and no to keep it dancing across her naughty bits.
“Umm”, she purred, as I rose to my knees on the bed and took her in. From her emerald eyes, half-hidden under post-orgasmic lids, through the swell of her hand-and-a-half breasts and pink nipples, down her long, defined stomach to the tiny landing strip of butterscotch pubes that grew above the spot I’d been working, every inch of Mindy made you want to run your hands down her soft, porcelain-perfect skin. Skin so smooth it demanded a good licking.
Uh-uh, my tongue told me, still burning with exertion. I’m sittin’ this one out.
With a satisfied smile, she noticed me ogling her. For her part, she ran a stare from by chest and shoulders—that look alone makes me put an extra set of reps in—straight down to my cock.
“I think someone’s feeling left out,” she purred, and lifted a leg to rub me with her toes. I can’t describe it—the woman has amazing dexterity with those little pink digits. Suddenly, she sat up, grabbed me down there, and before I knew it I’d let her toss me to my back. She gave me a naughty look as she ran her tongue on the hood of my penis, then in one smooth motion pushed herself up and plunged me into her. The combination of my spit and her juices meant there was no hunting around—it was just in.
Immediately I started thinking about roadkill, about filling out a baseball team of players with moustaches or a football team with felons, about fat people fucking or amputations, but it did no good. I’d been so worked up by the intensity of her orgasm and that lithe dancer’s body, the way her abs ran your eyes straight up to her tits, the way they bounced just enough to let you know they were real—and real firm—that she only needed a minute of bobbing up and down with her hips rolling around in circles like she did in her sequined Little Kitties uniform back in college. I seized up with a head-to-toe, gallon-jizzing, forget-my-name orgasm of my own.
Mindy giggled as she collapsed onto me. “You must’ve been really horny.”
“You’re getting better orgasms,” I managed to groan. “How could I not be?”
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The miles rolled by as I ran the Audi down an endless interstate ribbon, from one long uphill curve to the left to another long downhill curve to the right. After a hourlong stretch of flat, forgettable agricultural land—and a convenience store stop in Salem that confirmed that the people there were cultural kin to the folks you’d see in Deliverance or Beverly Hillbillies, we passed Eugene and ascended into the cascades.
Mindy had insulated herself from the worst of it by napping. Then chatting with Samantha Lenox on her iPhone.
Samantha had been a fellow Little Kittie—actually, the first one on the squad that I dated, because I’d thought Mindy was out of my league. Not that Sammie wasn’t hot—she’s kinda got a Emma Stone/Mila Kunis thing going. It’s just that Mindy is friggin’ drop your jaw to the floor hot. They were inseparable, always exchanging love ya statuses on Facebook and staying up late gabbing about whatever girls did. My little darling, after four jello shots, had once admitted to me that they’d even experimented with each other, but that for all her other gifts, Samantha wasn’t very good in bed—at least, not good with another woman. That had interested me, as I suppose it interests any guy, but when I asked for details she shook her head with a boozy grin and said I was too male for the blow-by-blow.
So she didn’t describe it. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t picture it.
“Yeah, hon, of course I remember Annabell—who wouldn’t?”
They were talking about my buddy Mike’s last girlfriend. He’s my bro, and I’d give my left nut for him, but dammit, he could find the strange ones.
“Oh, that’s a relief. What was the last…ohh! You don’t say?”
Annabell had so many piercings you wondered if her face leaked when she ate soup. She’d brought a Tarot deck with her on our last reunion, and Mindy told me that she’d capped last year’s get-together by putting a curse on her and the other girls. Annabell’s bark must’ve been worse than her bite, because as far as I was concerned my life with Mindy was great.
“So is he coming stag? No way! And this one’s…huh. Really? Oh, I can’t wait to see… Sammie? Sam-Sam? Hello?”
She huffed out in frustration and gave her phone the evil eye. “So much for it being the twenty-first century.”
“So Mikey’s got himself a new girl already?”
“Well, it’s a good thing. You remember Annabell from last year.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Apparently his current flavor-of-the-month doesn’t fancy herself a wicca. And she’s supposedly really cute.”
I took a glance away from the road, and recognized that look. “What?”
“Sammie said she’s been in a few movies.”