Creampie

I noted absently that Bobbi was standing. I was slightly aware that she was leaning in. I foggily remembered that I had agreed to kiss her, and so I let myself be kissed. I was disgusted when she kissed me and my mouth parted involuntarily, thereby giving entry to the creampie she spit into my mouth. It was bad enough to kiss that mouth of hers without finding my tastebuds swimming in guy-gunk!

I tried to rebel, but I was weak with post-orgasmic anemia. And despite myself, I reacted with pleasure to Bobbi's extreme creampie passion. She was moaning like crazy, urging me to share the wealth she'd deposited on my tongue. I hate to admit how much I got into the nasty kiss, driven by my natural desire to turn a woman on.

Finally, Bobbi released me, stepping back with chest heaving. "Do you have a handkerchief?" she asked. I told I did not, and she asked for her panties. "Sorry baby, but I tend to squirt when I creampie," she told me, wiping the remaining fluid from her pussy with her panties before putting them on.

I didn't want to admit I didn't know what "creampie" was, but a sly look at the asphalt parking lot revealed a puddle of fluid. I thought at the moment that she had peed, but since then I've learned that it isn't so. If that much juice had come from her muff, it was no surprise she'd want to avoid soaking her panties.