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"Oh god, Drew. You crazy fucker," she breathed. "I love you." They held still again, as they tried to catch their collective breath. As Drew heard Heather began to speak again, he moved his face toward hers. "I do lo-" He pressed his lips to hers to stop her from saying it again. They kissed passionately for several minutes, her with her ass at the edge of that dryer and Drew poised over her. If things had been different, if their timing had been better, Heather and Drew would have fallen in love. It would have been easy to fall in love with Heather. She would have probably been one of his favorite girlfriends, but none of that was meant to be. He was already in love, with at least two girls and maybe a guy.
While they kissed Heather caressed him, touching every part of him that she could reach with deep passion, which reminded him that she hadn't cum. He had been taught that his partner should always cum, first if possible. He broke from kissing Heather's lips and moved down to kiss each of her titties again. He wanted to keep sucking those gorgeous mounds but he knew her pussy needed attention. He knelt on the orange crate and buried his face in her dripping twat. The taste of Heather's pussy seemed sweet. Despite the salty taste of the sweat that drenched them both, and the pungent funk of her musk, not to mention his own spunk, that was present, there was a definite sweetness to the flavor of that girl's pussy. He was intoxicated with her flavor.
Drew licked Heather's clit. It swelled and peeked from beneath its hood. He nibbled and sucked at it, which caused her to squeal and giggle. All those contractions caused Heather's juices to flow and he lapped them up. He touched her clit with his fingertip and that sent her over the edge. Heather twitched and quivered. She giggled once more, sending all the fluids from her pussy into his mouth, hers and his. It was all sweet. He sucked her pussy until nothing else came out. Heather wilted on top of the dryer and Drew collapsed on a pile of laundry on the floor.
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