.Well met at airport

I lifted Brandy up by putting two fingers in her armpits. She spread her legs across my face and I settled her onto my lips like they were a saddle.

She grabbed my nose and wriggled a bit as I licked her. After a while, though, she slid down and over my chin.

"Neh," she shrugged. "Fun, but it's not going to 'do' me."

"Well, you know what you need, I suppose," I replied. She smiled and turned around. I slid an extra pillow under my head so I could watch. She traipsed down my chest and belly, stopping to run her fingers through the hair of my happy trail.

At my cock, she stroked the sides for a while, walking carefully around in a full circle. I thrilled at each touch. I felt a need to lift up and into her touch, but tried to stay still. 'Up' wasn't going to work this time, anyway.

"Not bad, not bad," she said slowly. She reached out towards the lip of my glans. "This is -"

"Oh, please don't," I moaned. "I dated a med student who asked for attention by the Latin. Critiquing my fungiform papillae with respect to their impact on the labia minora... It really sucked the mood out of the evening."

"What I was going to say," she said, adopting a lecturing tone, "is that this is Mr. Wobbly, and this is his big purple helmet." She traced a fingernail down the glans to the edge, where Mr. Wobbly's chinstrap would have connected.

The feeling was far more intense than such a tiny digit should be able to produce. I arched my back and nearly tumbled her off of my lap.

"Oh, like that, huh?" she asked after regaining her balance. With a step she was close enough to reach around. She stroked the helmet a bit more then jabbed her thumbs into it at opposite sides.

"Oh, grrrrf," I grunted. Her touch was like gentle electricity, and her aim was lethal. She proceeded to play me like a big pink keyboard.

She was more than in charge, she had me under the thumb I was wrapped around. I lost count of how many times she took me to the edge of exploding and then defused the growing force.

Finally, she was wrapped around me like a dance partner, gripping the glans at the edges and licking at the underside of my cock. I grabbed fist-fulls of sheet and even squeezed the covers with my feet.

"Oh, please, please, please," I whispered.

She coughed. And stopped. "I'm getting kinda thirsty. Could you get me a drink-"

I sat straight up and growled. This moved my cock down, parallel to and crushing her against my thighs. She wiggled and squirmed, trying to push me off of her. That unbridled, unaimed attention actually got me off.

Mr. Wobbly exploded, tossing ropes of come across my legs. I fell back on the bed with a shriek. I closed my eyes until the room stopped pulsing with my heart beat.

Finally, I reached down to pick her up and make sure she was okay. A little bit of sperm had dotted the top of her hair, but she was fine.

"Well, that will teach me," she muttered. "No jokes while wrestling a penis."

"Sorry," I said. "Really, I should never-"

"Shush," she ordered. One hand touched gently at the top of her head. "Um...can I get a bath in the sink, please?"

She wasn't fond of my brand of shampoo, but realized that beggars can't etc. I held her safe against the flow of the water and the mass of the bottle, and mostly just watched her wash herself.

Brandy noticed and smiled. "I like that smile," I told her.

"I like smiling," she replied. I dried her in a wash cloth and took her back to bed.

"So. What can I do for you?" I asked. She curled up in my hand and closed her eyes.

"Tuck me into your sock drawer," she said. "I wanna sleeping bag with a heel."

"You're really taking to this, aren't you?" I asked, moving to unroll a pair of socks.

"My flight's at nine!" she shouted as I lowered her down. "I mean, this is fun, but I can't miss..."

"My flight's at eight," I told her. "We'll be fine."

And we were...