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Don’t spoil it for others.I rested my head in the bowl of her tummy. Between her legs a tuft of pubes rose as though tugged, gold around the edges; towards the centre an oxidised red.My head edged towards it. She smelled faintly sour; a spice you wanted to recall the name of.I moved down, on hands and knees, over her vulva. She was alive with intricacy. A thousand hairs, spinning off in all directions, surrounded a sharp, dark valley. I put my nose to it, and ran the tip of my tongue down from the top of the cleft. It wasn’t distasteful. A complicated fold flowered into existence. I licked back up, strongly.Anna stirred.‘I remembered my favourite colour,’ I said, my voice croaky and unfamiliar. ‘It’s red.’Anna drew up one leg and let it fall to the side. I went between her thighs, scooping them wider, and licked again – the gem of her shining clitoris was unavoidable. She pulled her legs back then grabbed my ears. Each movement of my tongue was exaggerated by her bucking, and by. This night there was no coy playing of games. As soon as they were undressed they opened both bags. Mss Backer lay on her back and Melissa covered them with the second bag as she lay on top of the women. They sucked each others breasts and pussies until they both had climaxed. This night Mss Backer added something new. She draped Melissa face down over one of the packs, then she parted Melissas butt with her fingers and started licking the crack. When her tongue passed over the anus it puckered. Then Mss Backer concentrated on the hole and before long her tongue was inside. Melissa had a climax that was so strong she could feel juices dripping out of her cunt. Mss Backer was licking it up. When Mss Backer assumed the same position next to Melissa on the pack, the girl didnt have to ask what she wanted. Melissa got behind her and did the same thing to her. The thing she discovered was that Mss Backer had a ring of hair around her asshole. Just the same she licked it and stuck her.
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Her breasts were comically large, each dwarfing her head. They weighed so much, she had now to walk leaning backwards to preserve her centre of gravity. They stood off her chest like a windowbox, staying perfectly motionless however she moved, and were almost oblate. Her lips, too, she had ‘improved’. She looked like a caricature of a woman – swollen in every dimension and lacking the merest hint of humanity. But now the work poured in. She still shot movie after movie, but now the better magazines were after this freak. Playboy paid her to pose, and in the issue she stands, with deliciously unintentional irony, leaning against a fake rubber plant, the cubes on her chest angled towards the camera, one hand curled around her shiny cunt. She started to appear with numbing regularity in the tabloids. No longer did she just stand smiling on page 3, now she was recounting her sexual experiences with footballers and the sort of Z-rate celebrities she hadn’t been willing to become herself,.

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