Chapter Twenty Three

Night had fallen and it was dark outside by the time Kimmy emerged from the Gardener’s shack.

Time was, like, totally slippery and zipped away like greased lightning during prolonged periods of modeling sexy lingerie, enjoying the feel of the luxurious satin and lace against her shiny white skin, and messily getting off on just how fucking hot she looked in everything.

Seriously, her electrifying little pussy felt as though it was plugged into a power main each time she posed in the dingy little bathroom to throw her reflection sizzling come-hither looks and cheeky winks. Receiving them right back in return and blitzing her sloppy slit.

*Pop!*

If she did the math–gosh, but weren’t numbers tricky?–then about seventy percent of each hour passed would have featured her slick fingers diddling down between her spread legs and splattering the toilet seat with her gushing wetness.

The dusty shed had become a humid hothouse by the time Kimmy was finally done. And only because the glass had literally steamed up, obscuring the distracting vision of ascendant sexuality preening within the mirror.

The glossy latex of the frippy micro-skirt and skimpy matching bodice clung to her petite frame like a coat of violet paint, only covering the naughtiest necessities and exposing just about everything else to the starry night sky. The top slopes of her bulging pneumatic titties reflected the glowing moonlight like polished ivory as they bounced and jiggled like party-sized bowls of pale custard, framed in the fuzzy pink lining of the straining bustline.

*Pop!*

A big fluffy hoodie–softer than a mink coat, in black and white panda print–afforded some public decency but was only really there because Kimmy adored the soothing sensation of the fake fur rubbing against her prickling skin. Also because jaws were going to hit the floor when she let it slide from her bare shoulders in a stunning grand reveal of what was not-so-hidden beneath.

Presentation was everything, dontcha know? That was, like, marketing 101. Wasn’t it?

Kimmy frowned in thought. She was beginning to question a lot of what she had previously accepted as gospel truths about the world at large. That sparked an ember of concern, she was supposed to be a total smartypantz know-it-all. Looking down in confusion, she paused and smiled at her feet; what she didn’t question was her choice in ultimate sexy fun-time footwear.

Stark white leather boots were laced up to her knees with flamingo pink laces. The sky-high platform heels were so steep that her toes pointed down like a cliff diver but they miraculously relieved the ache in her ankle tendons so Kimmy wasn’t about to complain. She stood on the preposterous soles as steady as a sailor at sea and cocked a coquettish hip for the world in general before remembering she was standing alone, outside in the dark of night.

*Pop!*

Well that scarcely mattered. She was, like, here to prove something to someone then blow this stupid hot dog stand in search of a good time. Even if she was incredibly vague on a lot of the finer details.

Kimmy tossed her strawberry blonde hair and sucked the bubblegum off her plump purple lips. The thrilling contact with her moist face-pillows caused a burst of tremulous excitement to rip through her and more warm honey dampened the black fishnets wrapping her impeccably thin thighs.

Releasing a hot, shuddering breath she stepped off the tiny front porch and looked around. There was a stately stone house nearby and the many silver bangles at her wrists and the huge double hoop earrings in her ears tinkled quietly as she sashayed towards the light spilling from the large arched windows.

Maybe a quick peek inside would shake loose an idea of where she was and what she was doing here?

Kimmy indolently twirled a pink strand of hair around a long lilac fingernail and strutted like a stripper on the stage across the well-kept lawn until she almost stumbled into a flower garden.

“Whoopsie-daisies!”

Something crunched under the weight of her clunky resin heels as she teetered in the loose soil before regaining her balance. Looking down she glimpsed the colorful luminescence of a digital display screen lighting up before it shattered in a spiderweb of cracks beneath her boot heel and went dead.

Glaring at the offending device, Kimmy gave it a few more irritated stomps before kicking it away.

What special breed of moron left their phone on the ground outside? She had almost tripped over the thing! People were stupid, stupid, stupid...

Popping another calming bubble and rubbing her silky thighs together in thought, Kimmy blinked owlishly into the rear of the brightly illuminated residence. The glass doors to the flagstone back patio were folded back, leading into a large open design kitchen.

There was nobody in sight and everything was quiet when she slipped inside.

Kimmy crept into the expansive dwelling, only pausing to check her reflection in a burnished copper pan hanging above the imposing stove and pinch a fat nipple through her squeaky latex top with a gusty moan.

Was it possible they were getting even bigger? Surely not…

She felt agile as a gymnast on her towering footwear and so pleased by her success thus far that she performed a silent little twirl in the next room as she passed through. It was a living room with a large U-shaped couch that could probably seat eight around a solid glass and brass coffee table. A fancy black piano sat in one corner, with several expensive looking watercolors and oil canvases decorating the pristine white walls.

The spinning action made Kimmy’s fuzzy hoodie flare up behind her like a cape and lifted her shimmering skirt to flash the periwinkle lace thong hugging her hairless mound. She had chosen the insubstantial lingerie for imminently practical purposes; it had, like, a super handy opening at the crotch for her clever fingers to slip through.

*Pop!*

Trying to muffle a lusty groan by covering her mouth with her hand, Kimmy just ended up sucking on a finger again. Standing there like a tarted up mannequin in a dreamy daze with her glassy eyes fluttering shut while sliding a long digit in and out of her hyper-sensitive lips.

She could taste her own pussy and inserted another finger when the first didn’t seem like enough. She tasted sooo~ good, of course she did! She just had to be careful of the two-inch long fuchsia nails tickling at the back of her throat.

“Mmmmhmm…”

Her free hand was just snaking up under her rubbery skirt to engage the coolest feature of her sexy new panties when the sound of a feminine moan from upstairs snapped Kimmy back to the present. Snatching her naughty hands back down to her sides, she angled her pretty head to listen and heard it again.

“Mmmmnnnph~!”

The sound was muffled, sexually laden and there was something else hovering in the background. Beautiful music… as though from a stereo with the volume turned down to a low intimate level. Creeping out into a deserted hallway she spotted the carpeted stairs leading up to the second floor.

Kimmy was as quiet as a dormouse as she carefully climbed the curving stairway. The regal home was sturdy and well built, free of creaking boards or rusty door hinges that might betray the freshly-minted blonde’s uninvited presence. So she was confident in her stealthy approach, if not in what she might find at the end of it.

A tiny internal voice clamored at the back of her bubble-filled brain, trying to warn her of something but it was difficult to hear anything but the crooning contralto voice wafting from a partially closed bedroom door only a few more stuttering steps in front of Kimmy.

A woman was singing a moving operatic solo, raw with love and affection, though not in English. Kimmy was certain she spoke a few different tongues (not that she could recall any of them at the moment) but clearly not this one with its rolling lyrical vowels and clanking consonants.

”Примечание автора: поздравляю,
если ты это читаешь,
то ты наверное намного умнее меня.”

The words were gloriously articulated gobbledygook to Kimmy but the purity of tone and spirit were hypnotic, nearly whisking her away on a cloud of tender emotions to be blown about on tenor soprano winds. She wanted desperately to understand the serenading words as tears forming in her wide almond eyes at the unmissable passion behind them.

Kimmy would have risked just about anything to get the briefest glimpse of the mysterious Prima Donna with the voice of an angel. So she poked her head around the door and almost spat out her bubble gum in a comical double-take at the explicit scene laid out within the expansive bedroom.

Three figures were arranged on a huge cedar four-poster bed, large enough to comfortably sleep six. The singer was an exquisite, ageless beauty with long flowing hair like a river of purest golden honey. She was kneeling on the dove-white satin sheets in sumptuous lingerie and cradling a young man’s head on her tanned thighs.

A delicately embroidered chartreuse half-cup bra, thong and suspenders were fastened about her heavenly body by a complex web of jewel-encrusted straps and tiny silver rings. Her large globular breasts heaved with emotion as she sang for her young lover and laid gentle kisses on his brow between verses.

Her gentle mesmerizing voice lilted and dipped passionately as she stared down at him with adoration blazing in her brilliant emerald eyes, tracing the handsome lines of his rugged face with her fingertips and stroking his thick mane of tawny hair.

He was asleep. His eyes closed, his deep chest rising and falling in a relaxed rhythm. Kimmy might have recognized that snoozing face, if not for the way his incredibly naked body dragged her distractible gaze down over its many masculine lines and ridges as though they were magnetic.

He possessed such a manly physique. Aggressively manly with his broad shoulders and muscular chest but not like some hulked-out, bulked up gym gorilla who equated sheer mass to sex appeal. No, this man… this extremely naked (had Kimmy noted that point already?) man’s chiseled torso tapered down in a drool-inducing perfect V to a defined waist and an olympic track athlete's lower half.

At least, as much as Kimmy could tell from what little of it wasn’t currently buried beneath a fat-chested Latina maid’s excessively curvy figure. The shameless tramp was laid across his outstretched legs, smothering his groin with her massive olive tits and slobbering face, clearly trying to suffocate herself on his manhood.

“Glurk~... Ack–ack–ack!”

The raven-haired whore was all wobbling tits, ass and thighs. She was barely dressed at all, wearing only an undersized black g-string that dug into the soft flesh of her wide hips and vanished into the fathomless crack of her big wiggling butt. High stockings of smoky dark nylon ended in lacy bands around her thick thighs and a pair of slingback onyx knife-heels dangling loosely off her small feet as they drummed excitedly on the bed sheets behind her.

Strangest of all, a leather collar was fastened around her distended throat with a little bell tinkling away at each gluttonous movement of her bobbing, slurping head.

What a dumb fucking slut, she was practically going cross-eyed trying to titty-fuck and blow the man at the same time. It’s one or the other when you have udders the size of your empty fucking skull. That’s, like, simple geo… geo… geography!

The cock-gobbling skank sure had some huge knockers though, both women did and Kimmy felt an unwelcome rush of body-conscious inadequacy sweep over her. Her new breasts were big and firm, sitting high and perking on her skinny frame but…

She dithered in silent uncertainty and toyed with the short hem of her violet latex skirt until a wicked smirk spread her plump purple lips in, like, a totally smart moment of inspiration.

*Pop!*

*Pop!*

*Pop!Pop!Pop!*

The envious honors student blew bubbles with machine gun rapidity until she was dizzy, light in the head and rocked back on her teetering platform boots. Arcing chains of electric arousal coursed down from her sticky over-stimulated lips, blitzed through her expanding breasts and earthed ten thousand volts of stratospheric bliss into her engorged, over-clocked clitty.

“Hah–Aaaaah~!!”

Kimmy’s euphoric cry echoed throughout the suddenly silent room and she fell to her knees with both hands buried between her slim thighs as girl-cum sprayed around her twiddling fingers.

Her lust-addled mind spun like a pinwheel in a gale as her pale polished cleavage pushed up and out of the latex bustier, squeezing her stiff cinnamon nips out of the fur-trimmed confinement and outgrowing the sheeny, stretchy demi-bra to bounce freely out onto her petite chest. They were two stupendous, gravity-free spheres of firm titflesh and the cool evening air blowing in the balcony doors felt amazing on her sweat-slickened skin.

“Ah… the skulking rat finally reveals herself. You must be a remarkable girl to have kept up with us as long as you have, yes?”

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