Page 44 of Single Girl Rules #BananaParty

Your move, big b

oy.

He didn’t hesitate to drop to his knees between my legs. Then he leaned forward and pressed his giant monkey mask into my tits.

No, don’t motorboat me, you big dumb monkey! Eat my pussy.

Had the whipped cream not made my desires obvious?

Oh. Oh! I felt his breath on my thighs.

Of course. He wasn’t supposed to take his mask off. So the only way he could eat my pussy was to duck under the mask.

And then I felt his tongue lick all the cream off of me.

I swear, I almost came immediately. I’d been so turned on all night I could hardly handle the sensation of his warm mouth on me. I hitched my leg over his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Just like I’d teased the guy in the Banana Race, he used the exact same technique on me. Flicking. Teasing.

I moaned.

He was a freaking pro.

But I didn’t want to wait any longer. I’d been slowly dying of horniness all night. It was sinful to be surrounded by so many beautiful cocks and to not have them all inside of me.

So I reached under his mask and ran my fingers through his buzzed hair. And then I pulled him towards me. His tongue slid inside me. And then he swirled it around.

Oh God yes.

The next five minutes were pure bliss.

Chad had eaten my pussy plenty of times, but whatever he’d done was basically the equivalent of Slavanka’s Russian nibble technique.

Teddybear, on the other hand, was great at eating pussy. But it always seemed like he was trying to please me.

This was an entirely different experience from both of those.

The Banana King didn’t give a shit about my pleasure. He was eating my pussy because he fucking loved the taste of it. I could tell. The way his tongue swirled around me. The way he lapped up my juices. It was like my pussy was the world’s ripest, most delicious peach.

He thrust his tongue even deeper, like he couldn’t get enough.

Yes!

It went against the Strippocratic oath for him to be so greedy, but I didn’t mind one bit. I wanted him to be greedy for me. Desperate for me.

Each stroke of his tongue brought me closer to the edge.

I gripped the back of his head harder and grinded against his face. “Yes,” I moaned. Just like that.

He pushed his tongue against my clit and my whole body spasmed. But he didn’t slow down. Not even a little bit. He just kept feasting.

I moved my arm and I was pretty sure I knocked over a glass of banana juice. But I didn’t even care because I was so close to coming again.

And then he stopped.

“Keep going,” I demanded. I pushed his head down, but he was too strong for me.

“Sorry,” he said as he stood up, his mask falling back into place over his face. “Were you about to come again?”

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