Returning to her bikini chick naked guest, Vicki figures its now or never.
Shes confident that her advances won be spurned, for Sandy has bikini chick done nothing to repulse bikini chick her so far and appears to be like-minded.
Now strutting over to the sofa as if entering a gay bar, she pats Dukes head and asks him bikini chick hows its going.
Then wearing the lusty grin of a lez on the make, she straddles Sandys lap as if plopping down on the nearest barstool.
"Hey babe," she begins, running her fingers through Sandys red tresses.
The redhead already knows that the girl drives a bikini chick bus and apparently grew up on a farm, for Vicki bikini chick grasps bikini chick her jugs like a milkmaid and manipulates the nipples.
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When Sandy replies with small moans--the only objections her conscience will allow--Vicki interprets them as pleasurable and continues her titty bikini chick play, taking delight in stretching out her pink buds and watching them snap back.
But though she sucks them till they grow as hard as walnuts, she receives nothing in return.
However, Vicki puts this down as simple shyness, figuring that her guest simply needs more foreplay, for shes heard from her friends at school and on the street that the bikini chick older woman loves to put out--once she gets in the mood.
So after moving off to one side, Vicki slides her hand down to Sandys itching bush where it fights with Dukes tongue--and the fleas--for her cunt.
The dog briefly surrenders his place at the bar to the invading bikini chick fingers, but after they deeply probe the twitching hole and squeeze the fat lips dry, they settle onto the puffy clit, allowing Duke to return to his drinking bikini chick.
Time has stood still for Sandy since the seduction began, for the beer and the grass have so warped her perspective that nothing seems real-- except the sensations shocking her body.
