Even though I hadn't started classes yet, the lessons were coming fast and fierce!
And fully unexpurgated!
I'd just learned, for example, that 'Clam-dip' was barber-vernacular for a gooey pussy.
"Whinny! Suckle! Snort! Smooch! Slurp! Whinny!"
And wow! Talk about visual aids! Spin and Dry were absolutely boffo --- both naked --- rampantly getting off --- totally over the top! Yep, this was education at it's finest.
Mos had fiddled with a remote-control ( conveniently located on his watchband ), causing Dry's ankle-cuffs to dynamize ( reposition according to exact coordinates ) --- with her undercarriage flagrantly jutted --- heels tucked along either side --- feet pointed outward --- hips and knees crimped --- assuming a 'W' position --- folded open like a book! Her arms, of course, remained criss-crossed behind.
And remember Spin's labial hardware? Dry's loomed the same. And, no less whorish! Brazenly nasty! Wholly irresistible!
Just ask her partner.
"Whinny! Whinny! Snort! Suckle! Slurp! Whinny!"
Spin lunged with unbridled gusto ( no pun intended ); lapping away; with more slurping then a soup eating contest!
And Dry's response?
"Whinny! Gasp! Snort! Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-e-e-e-e-e-e! Snort! Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-e-e-e-e-e-e!"
Dry was the bigger girl --- five-ten --- broad shoulders --- 44DD droopers --- gorgeously mature hips --- big cheeky bottom --- fat, protuberant pussy --- imposing haunches --- chiseled calves --- strong-n-shapely feet.
And nary a hair from nose-to-toes!
She had a comely face ( blue eyes, average features ) --- glowing when she smiled --- spell-binding when distorted by orgasm ( eyes rolling, nostrils dilated, baring teeth ).
"Snort! Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-e-e-e-e-e-e! Snort! Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-e-e-e-e-e-e!"
"Gee-e-e-z-e!", I blurted. "How does that bit-gag not get chomped in two?"
"What bit-gag?", Mos asked.
"T-That o-one!", I stammered, pointing at Dry's clenched jaws, as she pitched backward --- boobs absurdly cha-cha-ing --- nipple-bells amok --- spewing like a volcano --- spittle and phlegm!
"Whinny! Sputter! Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-e-e-e-e-e-e! Snort! Sputter!"
"Oh, thet one! It's made of solid Naidiulf, one-o the most durable substances known! She'll bite through thet, when I go a day without blowin'! Or, in other words, not any time soon! Nyuk! Nyuk!"
"A d-day w-without b-blowin'?", I jabbered, eyeballs glued to Dry's galloping tits.
"Yah! Of course! A bloke's daily maintenance-blow. Wouldn't wanna miss thet! Right?"
"B-But I h-hav,... n't,... s-shaky pud,... ding-g-g-g!"
"By the way, Lad", Mos warned, taking note of my stuttering, "don't track them glands too closely! It could cause permanent distortion of yer jawbone! From smilin' too broadly!"
I was regressing. Slipping into the grips of V.B.M.
"Now what wuz ye sayin', Lad?"
"Ah,... I,... h-haven't,... b-b-blown,... in,... t-t-three,... d-d-da,... s-shaky pud,... ding-g-g-g!"
My eyes had gone disconjugate ( one pointed up; the other down ); expression totally stupid. Like I'd just hosted a 100mph bean-ball!
"Excuse me, Lad, but there must be something wrong with me hearin'. I could-o sworn ye said ye haven't blown in three focking days! Har! Har! Can ye focking imagine anything so ridiculous?"
"Ah,... I,... ha,... hav,... haven't! T-Ten-four,... good b-buddy!"
"Great Clinton's ghost!", Mos exclaimed! "Ye're serious! Well, thet explains a lot! The tent-pole in yer pants! The quickness with which ye've donned thet stupid expression! The steam rising from yer eyeballs!"
"Ah,... ha,... yh,... yah!"
"Fer Bubba's sake, Lad", Mos screamed "don't try ta talk! Conserve yer energy!"
Then his voice turned dead-serious.
"Dry! Cease-n-desist! Spin! Heigh-ho-Monica!"
Her response had been immediate. Rearing upward, executing a 360 pivot, plunging toward my crotch.
And remember Spin's talented nose?
She'd readily dragged my zipper down with her teeth.
"Whinny! Slurp! Swa-a-a-a-a-a-a-l-l-o-w! Gag! Snort!"
Then throated me to the balls! Every bit as adroitly!
"Ahga! Gasp! T-Tha-a-a-a-a-a-t f-feels go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-d! Gasp!"
"Whinny! Snort! Slur-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-p! Ga-a-a-a-g! Snort! Snort!"
Then slurped-in my nuggets too!
"Nhga! Ga-a-a-a-s-p! T-Tha-a-a-a-a-a-t's even b-b-better-r-r-r-r-r-r! Gah!"
"She's fully trained in B.H.M., Lad", Mos chirped. "And, of course, in doin' the nasty! Heck, ye'd expect no less from a B.I.S.!"
"Gah! Gasp! Wha,... what's,... d-do,... doin' the,... n-na-a-a-a-a-s-t-y? Ga-a-a-h! Qua-a-a-a-c-k!"
At that instant, Spin's tongue snaked out --- probing lower --- plumbing madly --- graphically answering my question --- making me forget to ask what B.H.M. meant! Or, for that matter, B.I.S.!
"Ga-ga-wah-ga! Na-a-a-a-agh! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k!"
With my crotchbone as a fulcrum, her jaws levered like a teeter-totter, tongue aimed southward, eyes opposite.
Ga-a-a-a-a-a-w-d, what a sight! A completely naked woman, arms criss-crossed behind, on widespread knees, bare bottom reared-up, pendulous tits dangling, sleighbells frantic, throat-caressing my dick, mouth-laundering my balls; doing the nasty to boot! And now eyeballing me with a look that made my goose bumps get goose bumps. Let's face it, only one word was apropos:
And believe me, I would've been yelling it from the proverbial rooftops had it not been for one tiny issue.
"Yh,... ya,... gah,... quack! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k!"
"Don't try ta t-talk, Lad!" Mos yelped, himself sounding a bit shaky. "Ye've hit the third phase of V.B.M. It'll,... gah,... only f-foster more mutation! Jest l-let y-yerself,... gah,... go,... ten-four g-good b-buddy!"
He was right. Every time I uttered a syllable, it sounded like Daffy Duck being colonoscoped! This was the barnyard phase. Sure-as-shit! I'd meant to ask how long the effect would last, but was too incoherent.
And, of course, I should have inquired about the B.I.S. reference. But, again, was distracted!
And, hey! Why the fuck wouldn't I be? After all, wasn't Spin doing one heck of a number on me? And hadn't Mos added fuel to the fire with that talk about lashing Spin's big bottom? Didn't he realize how vivid my imagination was?
"Whinny! Slurp! Swa-a-a-a-a-a-a-l-l-o-w! Slurp! Piston! Up! Down! Up! Down! Slurp! Gag! Whinny!"
Spin's lips maniacally pumped --- hammering my crotchbone with each swoop, suckling on the backstroke. Again and again and again! Until...
Remember the warning-sound a WW II submarine blares, right before it dives? Well multiply that by ten, and that'd been me!
Right before bellowing 'T-That's all f-f-folks'! In duck-speak!
"Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k! Gasp! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k! Gru-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-n-t!"
Sweat gushed down my face. Ecstasy up my spine. Had I'd gripped the seat any more fiercely, I'd have torn it off the floor.
And throughout the bliss, Spin's nastiness loomed front and center --- sneering with lust --- jowls ballooning with ejaculate --- man-goo percolating at her nostrils --- worshiping my dick like it were a higher power.
Then, while maintaining steadfast eye-contact, she swallowed! Every last drop!
"Gulp! Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h! Lick! Smack! Whinny! Whinny! Whinny!"
Then, after licking her chops, she stuck-out her tongue --- to show everything had been swallowed all-gone!
"Ga-a-a-a-a-w-w-w-w-w-d! Did y-you,... Qua-a-a-c-k,... see t-that, Mos?", I'd jabbered, relieved to find my voice un-mutating a bit. "Did y-you?"
"Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-k! Ya-a-a-a-h, Lad! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-k! I s-sure as shit did! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k!"
Mos's dick was in Dry's mouth.
The voluptuous beauty was on straddled knees, arms criss-crossed behind, staunchly eyeballing her baptizer; sucking him off. Serving-up subordination by the buckets! Shelter from the storm!
And, of course, a finale just like Spin's!
"Gulp! Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h! Lick! Whinny! Whinny! Whinny!"
"Ohhhhh, Man!" I hissed, slumping back in my seat, which probably now bore a permanent sweat-imprint of my body. "That was,... Qua-a-a-c-k,... a t-thing of beauty!"
Spin was still eyeballing me; lazily tongue-lapping my balls. My semi-deflated dick had flopped against her face; was twitching back and forth like a metronome.
"Yah! No argument on this end, Lad", Mos wheezed. "No focking argument,... Qua-a-a-a-c-k,... at all!"
What Spin was doing to me, Dry was doing to him. Needless to say, we were two smiley blokes!
"The way she did me", I blathered, "was so fucking,... Qua-a-a-a-c-k,... unique! She had this twirling motion with h-her tongue ! It was just,... errr,... just,... "
"Yabba? Is thet the word ye're searchin' fer, Lad?
"Well, thet's why she's called Spin, ye realize! Nyuk! Nyuk!"
"Wow! Far out!", I yelped. "Hey? How'd her partner get n-named Dry?"
"Fock!", Mos chirped. "I'll let her show ye!
In a blink, Mos yanked his dick from Dry's mouth ( she'd been tongue-polishing his prick-head ). He snapped his fingers while barking a command.
"Dry! Do thet thing ye do!"
"Whinny! Slurp! Snake! Sna-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-k-e! Snort!"
"Gah! Aa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah gah! Qua-a-a-a-c-k! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k!"
Dry had leaf-frogged Spin; dive-bombed my dick with open mouth and unrestrained zeal; gobbling me in one swoop; her tongue snaking like a master-plumber!
"Hang on, Lad!", Mos shouted! "this part can get a little rough! Nyuk! Nyuk!"
"W-Wha-da-ya mean?", I gasped, "Gah! Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-c-k!"
The last thing I remember, before blacking out, was Dry nostrils snorting like a bull. The sweat on my forehead suddenly evaporated. And my tongue started feeling curiously dry.
Then darkness prevailed.