He still held her armsstraight out from her body. Gwen’s breasts weighedheavily against his chest through the thin fabric ofher t-shirt, and her...hair fell uncontrolled against hisface.If there was one thing Art had learned, it was kissing,after hours of stage kisses with cold women under hotlights. Before he had only met the semblance of passion— now passion was hitting him full force, a desertstorm. The room was burning in Gwen’s kisses. He wasdrowning in the sand.She was. She dropped the mag, cleared the chamber, then handed the gun to me. I checked the mag well and the chamber, and when I was sure it was safe, I put the muzzle to my nose and took a deep breath. She was right. It definitely smelled like pussy, and that was a good thing, not a bad thing. She had a curious grin on her face and she'd made no move to cover her pussy while I checked out the gun. I told her that her 'piece' smelled good enough to eat, and without any hesitation she said, “My pussy. More

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