Food over thought.

"Might as well take care of this now," you pat your leg and look the tit-baring girl in the eye. "Suck my dick, Heather."

Heather's eyes widen. Two natural cute polka dots. "Um, right now?"

You offer an earnest nod.

She shrugs. "Okay. One blowjob coming up!" Jumping up from her seat to hop over to the carpet before you, her hand resting on your knee.

It is on to business.

As Heather moves her hands towards your zipper, her face is cutely twinged with some strands of blonde, as always, and you began to caress her scalp. You then grip her armpit and squeeze it a bit, which she doesn't appear to mind. Instead, unperturbed by your silliness, she successfully pulls your pant zipper halfway down the subsequent row of teeth.

The recliner lets out a slight squeak as you sit back and let her unzip your pants, legs spread.

Buh-BOING!

To put it with obvious erotic intention, your cock springs into her hands like a snake from a bush. An inch or two of space resides between it and Heather's nose. The girl wiggles a brow.

"Damn. You're hard as granite, John! And a real shower!" she flicks your shaft, bolstering an apathetic grunt from you. This, inevitably, elicits a giggle out of her, like a comedian at his own joke. "It's like a pent up blender you have hiding here!"

"It sure is, and I sure am." You push the beast down a centimeter, then let go. It bops back to attention with earthquake-proof integrity, grazing the tip of her nose. Which, frankly, was just standing there.

Crudely, you look at Heather, Now, rub my cock with your cheek while professing your love for it.

The dirty blonde begins to open her mouth. Only for her to shift her face to the side, then smush her puffy cheek against your hairy shaft.

"Mmh I'm in love. Just in love."

She doesn't stop there, however, and rattles on. You take a few seconds to soak in a few more compliments since, as far as you were concerned, schmoozing never hampered job performance. Least not while you held the gavel.

Once the formalities are over, you remove a random AA battery that was tucked in the cushion and orient yourself neatly on the seat. Heather, one hand on your leg, clears her throat in preparation.

"Ready?" She clenches her hand with admirable enthusiasm.

"Ready."

Clunk, goes the airy contact of her brother's ball session outside, hitting who knew what, in who knew where.

Taking your penis into her hand, she aims her eyes down the descending shaft, parts her lips wide, and drops carefully over the pulsing pipe, her hand moving onto the base as she does.

Her tongue's dance is a good one in your book. She goes over your head and down multiple times, and each siphon it feels right to dump it all down her ingestion tube that instant. Apparently, she was that good. Or you really were that pent up.

However, you manage to withhold yourself successfully. The party had a little more to go, yet.

At another slurp of your pulsating straw, you grasp the arms of the chair and dig into the seams. Almost out of subconsciousness, you thrust your hips faintly as Heather makes it three-fourths of the way down your lizard man, wiggling her face into your manly tangle before removing it with a pop.

"Are you almost there?"

"Yes," you grunt, "take it all down!"

"Okay, got it," Heather's lips open, swallowing your pipe back down as you experience a surge of spine-tingling pleasure and twitch upward. Your johnson follows suit, erupting into Heather's mouth as she makes her damndest attempt to get all your white gunk into her stomach. It gurgles down her throat, swashing into her tube and splashing into young, nubile female belly.

"So," you break the glow with the invisible touch of a lip-dabbing merchant underlining your tone. "Better than ice cream?"

"Yeah." Sporting an illuminating, toothy grin, Heather wipes her mouth with her hand before replying with a nod that ultimately reached a similar conclusion. "Way better."