Saturday morning Sam wakes up to the feeling of Brittany's hand on his dick. Her hand and…something else that he can't identify. It's not exactly unpleasant, but it is sort of weird. He looks down, but her head and shoulder are in the way. "What's going on?" he asks, still groggy.

"It's a surprise," she says. "Close your eyes, and no peeking!"

"But you know how much I like watching you do stuff down there," Sam protests.

"Close your eyes or I won't do it," Brittany says. "In fact, now that I don't trust you not to 'accidentally' peek, you have to blindfold yourself with…that pillowcase."

Sam pretends to object, but Brittany knows he actually loves to be blindfolded when she does stuff to him. And sure enough, even while "complaining" about how mean she is, he takes the case off the pillow and ties it around his eyes really quickly.

There's still one thing, though: her plan isn't going to work until Sam is hard. Luckily that's easy enough.

Oh, Brittany's sucking him! Fuck, that's good. So good that Sam's not even disappointed that it hardly qualifies as a surprise.

She gets him nice and hard. Well, kind of beyond that, actually. She meant to stop as soon as he was just hard enough, but, well, she just likes having Sam's dick in her mouth, okay? It feels so good in there and it tastes so good, and the little moans he makes are just the cutest. She does make herself stop, though, when he starts thrusting. Not that she doesn't love that too, but she really wants a special breakfast treat. (Even specialer than just his cum, though that's a classic and probably her all-time favorite treat. But she plans to have that too, so not to worry.)

Sam whines when she stops. He's about to ask what's wrong when he feels that thing again—that thing he'd actually completely forgotten about—rubbing against his cockhead. He mentally compares it to the other stuff Brittany has at some point rubbed against his junk, all of which he can rule out: it's not a liquid; it's not scratchy enough to be lace; it's not soft or light enough to be a feather. Oh, this is interesting, though: he can feel it all the way around the tip of his dick, surrounding it.

Brittany pushes the thing a little farther down his dick and it's tight for like half a second and then she goes, "Shit!"

"Shit!?" Sam repeats, sitting up. It's not a word he likes to hear when he's blindfolded and Brittany's doing stuff to his cock.

"It broke," she says sadly.

"What broke?" Sam tears off the blindfold, not stopping to think first that his penis couldn't have just "broken" without him even feeling it. He looks down and sees three chunks of what he gathers used to be a doughnut. "I'm sorry, babe," he says. "Um…you were gonna have me fuck a doughnut?"

"That would be kind of weird," Brittany says. Not that there's anything wrong with weirdness, in her opinion, but that particular weird thing never even occurred to her. "But no, I was gonna put it on you like a ring and then eat it off." She bought the doughnut special just for this—a plain one, so Sam wouldn't get sugar or frosting or anything in his pubes. She's thoughtful like that.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that sounds way hotter."

"I mean, I know your dick is way too big for the tiny little hole, but I hoped it would stretch like my pussy does."

"But, Britt, your pussy is like a magical thing. You know there's nothing like it."

"That's true," she says. "I guess I should be glad it didn't work. If it had maybe you'd figure out you could just fuck doughnuts and you wouldn't need me at all anymore."

"Now you're just being silly." Sam brushes the hair away from Brittany's face and looks in her eyes. "I mean, you are just joking around, right? You know I love you for more than your pussy?"

Brittany melts a little because, yeah, she was totally just joking. Most of the guys she's been with have pretty much just been interested in Henriette, but she already knows that Sam is different. Still, it's sweet that he wants to be sure she knows. "Aw, I know that, Sammy," she says. And she whispers in his ear, to avoid hurting the feelings of Admiral Rodney, "I love you for more than your dick too. Even though I like it a lot."

"Well, I'm sorry you can't eat your breakfast off it."

"Yeah." Brittany sighs. But suddenly the idea of something just as good—better even, maybe—perks her up. "Lay down again," she says, pushing on Sam's chest.

She wants really bad to take his cock in her mouth again. But she knows that once she's got a taste she's not going to be able to stop sucking until he comes in her mouth, which isn't where she wants him to do it this time. So, using all her self-control—and reminding herself that they still have two full days and she'll have lots of time for tasting—she just strokes him.

Sam lies back and moans. You'd think that now that his dick is frequently inside Brittany's mouth and her pussy, having it just in her hand would be no big deal, but you'd be dead wrong. Her fingers are, like…they're not as magical as her pussy, but they're pretty fucking amazing. She starts with a light, almost teasing touch, just grazing over his shaft and tickling his balls. Then she's smearing his pre-cum around the head and wrapping her fingers around him in a tight circle, and before he knows it she's got him gasping and fucking up into the ring of her strong fingers.

Brittany knows Sam is about to come when the skin on his balls gets all crinkly. She grabs the doughnut chunks and positions them just in time to watch the milky globs of cum spurt out and land like delicious icing.

Sam shudders and sighs. Brittany is really awesome at waking him up. He opens his eyes and she's holding a piece of the doughnut, which he'd completely forgotten about, in front of his face. It looks a little...wet. "Britt…?"

"This is gonna be so delicious," Brittany predicts right before she takes her first bite. And it is, it's so delicious! The doughnut itself is bland and just a little sweet, just sweet enough to provide a nice contrast to the saltiness of Sam's cum that she loves so much. And the cum hasn't soaked in that much, so it's still got that warm, slippery feel she loves. She gobbles it down greedily.

"I'm sorry!" she says as soon as she realizes she's eaten it all. "I forgot to save you a piece!"

"That's okay, babe," Sam assures her. He's pretty sure the doughnut his girlfriend just devoured was actually covered in his cum. It was totally hot to watch her do it, but he doesn't feel bad at all that he didn't get any. "I'm not really that big a fan of tasting my own jizz. Unless it's a freshly deposited load inside your pussy."

"That is the best idea you've had all morning!" Brittany exclaims. Before Sam can object that he's not quite ready for that yet, Brittany's mouth is trailing down his chest toward her favorite part of his body. He could tell her to stop, he guesses, but really as long as she takes a couple minutes to get there he should be okay. Or, well, more than okay, obviously. "That's really good," he says as her tongue flicks at a nipple. And it is, too. "God, if you wanted to keep doing that for, like, a while, it would be awesome."

Brittany stares in Sam's eyes while continuing to flick at his nipple, as requested. She doesn't know if it's been a "while" yet when she breaks the news to him, "I don't wanna keep licking this one spot for too long, though, babe. There might be some spunk on your stomach or your chest, so I wanna lick everywhere." The possibility of Sammy-spunk drying up unappreciated is just too sad.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you'd better be thorough then." If there's one thing he can count on Brittany to be in pursuit of his spunk, it's thorough. He's going to be so ready when it's time to give her some more.

XOXOXO

Saturday is exhausting. It's, like, unbelievably awesome, but totally exhausting. Sam has no idea how many times he and Brittany do it during the day—so many variations of "it"—but he's glad that the last time he comes before conking out for the night it's in her pussy. He can't possibly have that much jizz left, which she would be more likely to notice if it were in her mouth. And he would have hated to disappoint her.

Sam falls asleep immediately after they both come, with his dick still inside her. And that's how he wakes up Sunday morning too.

Brittany tried to let him sleep in, she really did. It's just that she woke up super horny. After having pretty much nonstop sexy times yesterday, it's no wonder that she needs it bad after a nine-hour dry spell.

The poor guy is so tired that she almost feels bad about disturbing him. He moans and shifts a little when she starts sucking him, but he doesn't wake up, not even when she's got him fully hard. It's not until she's lowered herself onto his cock—god, what a relief!—and started rocking back and forth on it that he groans and opens his eyes halfway. He asks, "Are we still sleeping?"

"That's right, baby, go back to sleep. I just needed this really bad." It won't be the greatest sex if Sam sleeps through it, but it'll tide her over for a little while at least.

Sam doesn't sleep through it, however. Come on! He's tired, but he's not that tired. Even if he were just dreaming this, it would the kind of dream that would jolt him awake, desperate to fuck her for real.

He opens his eyes fully and gazes up at his gorgeous girlfriend moving up and down on his cock. God, look at the way her tits are bouncing. He's gotta touch them. And when he does, she kind of grinds her chest against his hands, and her nipples turn into hard little pebbles right under his fingertips, and she goes, "God, that's good, Sammy. I take it back; don't go to sleep." As if he would want to!

He does let her do most of the work, though, and not just because he's not fully awake yet. No, it's just that the way she's riding him and squeezing him is so perfect, he doesn't think anything he could do could possibly make it any better. Especially when she starts to come on his cock.

The orgasm overtakes her suddenly. She squeezes and grinds and thrashes as it tears through her. And Sam can't just lie there anymore, not when she's doing all this on his dick. Not that he's exactly aware that he's pumping up into her…not until she's been quiet for a second and then a particularly strong thrust makes her gasp again. "Sorry!" he says, but she shakes her head and says, "More."

Now she's tired, he can tell, so he rolls them over so she can relax and just take it for a while. And of course so he can do more than that, because he's had enough of just lying there.

Sam's so good at this—god. He's hitting her deep, hidden spot just right. "Right there," she encourages him, speaking in a low whisper so as to save her voice for the impending screaming. She grabs his ass and pulls him deeper into her for further encouragement.

He urges her legs a little wider, and something about the change in position or angle or whatever sets her off. "Oh fuck!" are the only two actual words she's able to get out, and then it's just wailing and wailing and wailing until her throat is raw.

Sam should probably be able to keep going longer, given how many loads Brittany pulled out of him yesterday, but her sex screams just get to him too much, or maybe it's the way her tight little twat is actually tugging his cock in tighter and deeper, but whatever it is, he loses it seconds after she does. "F-f-fuck," he stutters as he releases his hot load.

It's the first of what will be many today; Brittany barely leaves his dick alone for a second. She's all over it even more today than she was yesterday or Friday night, which Sam didn't really think was possible.

But like after breakfast. Brittany wants to read the newspaper comics to him—which she walks right out onto the front porch, naked, to get, standing there in the rain separating them from the rest of the newspaper, which she leaves on the porch to get soaked—and she insists that he sit on her lap for it, and the whole time he's sitting on her lap she's got one hand on his dick, like just idly toying with it. He doesn't even think she's trying to get him hard, but of course she does…before she's even through reading Dilbert to him, in fact. In the middle of Blondie he begs her to use both hands; by the time they reach The Family Circus he can barely hold the paper steady, much less look at it; and he's no sooner turned the second page (after Brittany having to tell him several times to do it) than he's shooting his wad all over Hägar the Horrible.

And she doesn't even stop! She wipes his cum off the paper and sucks it off her fingers, and then she keeps right on reading to him. She doesn't even take her other hand off his dick, and it doesn't feel nearly as good now after he's come. It's like…it's not exactly bad, it doesn't exactly hurt, but it's…it's almost like being tickled too much. His instinct is to fly out of her lap so she won't be able to do it anymore, and he would, except he's all relaxed and sluggish after coming, plus he doesn't want her to think he doesn't like her touching him there, like, 99 percent of the time. So he just squeezes his eyes shut and sucks on his lower lip until it stops feeling so overly tickly. By the time Brittany's finished reading the last comic it feels good again, and when she eases him off her lap into his own chair and then kneels in front of him and puts it in her mouth, that feels really, really good. So then when she sits in his lap…yeah, Sam ends up filling her with another load while she comes on his cock again, and he's really glad he didn't try to make her stop touching it.

And the rest of the day goes pretty much the same way. Except for a couple quick naps and breaks to eat and go to the bathroom, Brittany's constantly doing stuff to Sam's dick. He manages to bounce back from the too-tickly feeling each time, until they do it in the shower that evening and Sam goes so weak-kneed after coming in her that he actually falls onto the shower floor, and, yeah, it's also partially because he slipped on some soap, but he knows he's really done this time.

After they get out of the shower Sam suggests that they go to bed. Brittany thinks that's a great idea. They've done it all over the house today except the bed. Well, first thing this morning, but that was a long time ago. And some stuff is just easier and more comfortable to do in a big, soft bed than on a little ottoman or on the hard kitchen floor.

But then when they get in bed and Brittany snuggles in close and reaches down to stroke his cock, Sam takes her hand and says, "I meant…we should go to sleep now."

What!? "But Sammy," she explains patiently, "it's not even eight o'clock yet."

Oh. Sam's so tired, he could have sworn it was a lot later. "I'm just not up for any more," he pleads, not sure whether he intended the pun or not. "I'm sorry, baby, I just…Admiral Rodney needs some rest."

"Oh, okay." Brittany tries to be understanding and not pout. She could play with Rodney all day and all night, but if he needs to rest, he needs to rest. "You're not really going to go to sleep yet, though, are you?"

"Well…"

"Let's watch a movie at least. I promise I'll let the big guy rest."

"Uh…"

"I know just the movie!" Brittany announces, jumping out of bed. "It's this great musical; the glee club should really perform it some time," she calls out as she searches for the DVD in her closet. "You would make such a great Frankfurt. Or, no—Rocky!"

"Are you talking about Rocky Horror? Britt, we already—"

"Here it is!" she announces, waving the movie around as she steps out of the closet. "Now, I have to warn you: it's insanely sexy. But we'll be watching it for glee research purposes only." It's not like she's secretly hoping that the insane sexiness of the movie will make Admiral Rodney realize he's not so sleepy after all.

And it's a good thing that that wasn't her plan, because if it had been, it would be failing miserably. Sam doesn't react at all, even during "Sweet Transvestite," and how is that even possible?

Sam knows that this whole movie thing is a bad idea. Brittany's getting all cuddly with him, which is awesome, except her hands are…she's keeping them away from his crotch so far, but just barely—one's on his upper thigh and the other's on his abs. And then during the transvestite song, she shifts and wraps her legs around one of his, and by the end of it she's sort of rubbing herself against his thigh. He's so screwed.

Except...not literally, because she's still keeping her hands off him. She's trying really hard, in fact, if the fact that her hands keep moving toward the forbidden zone and then backing off at the last second is any indication. It could mean she's deliberately trying to tease him, but Sam's pretty sure it actually just means that she's just…still horny, somehow.

Well, he guesses that she shouldn't have to suffer just because he's done for the night.

He starts to tease her nipples, all the while pressing his leg a little more firmly between hers. She starts to moan and hump his leg in earnest, and he slides his hand down onto her clit. She's so wet, and it shouldn't surprise him at this point…it doesn't surprise him, exactly, but it still always kind of amazes him.

"Sammy," she moans, so relieved that he's touching her where she needs it. It's not just the movie that's got her all worked up or even mostly the movie; it's mostly just being in bed with her super hot naked boyfriend. She really was worried for a minute that he was actually going to go to sleep already, even though it's their last night of being able to do whatever they want with no interference.

Sam kisses her neck, then her chest. He's planning on working his way down so he can eat her out, but he gets distracted by her boobs. He just loves them, he loves how soft and yielding they are under his tongue, except the nipples, which are like hard little berries that just get harder and sweeter the longer he sucks on them. And that's as far down as he gets before Brittany's digging her (thankfully short) nails into his back in warning of an impending orgasm.

It turns out to be a tiny little orgasm, not even worthy of the name really. More of an aftershock, though it's not after anything. Brittany's so bummed she almost wants to cry, because it really felt like it was going to be big. And she knows Sam is tired, but she still needs more, and she begs him, "Please, Sammy. Please don't go to sleep yet!"

And he rolls away from her, and she thinks he is going to go to sleep, but it's just for a second to turn off the TV (which Brittany had completely forgotten was on), and then he's scooting down to the foot of the bed and settling himself in between her legs and attaching those big, soft lips to her clit, and it's just what she needs and he really is the best boyfriend ever.

Sam isn't even sleepy anymore. He loves the tangy flavor of Brittany's sex juices, all her at first, and then mingled with his own cum the deeper he lets his tongue probe inside her snatch. Brittany's got her hands on his head, and she sometimes pulls his hair when he gets her in a spot she really likes, and it hurts a bit, but then she massages his scalp after, and he doesn't know if she's doing any of it on purpose but the whole thing is this weird combination of electrifying and soothing. He's still done for the night for himself, but he's totally happy to stay right here, eating his girlfriend out until one of them falls asleep.

Brittany comes again and again and again. They're not tiny orgasms, they're totally nice and good and everything, and so she shouldn't be frustrated, but she just knows there's a really big one in her still, somewhere. She wouldn't blame Sam at all if he did want to go to sleep at this point, but she's so grateful to him that he's not.

Sam does get tired. His mouth gets tired, that is, and his fingers get tired, and his neck gets a little crick in it from the not-quite-natural position he's been holding it in for so long. But he's still not sleepy, and god knows he's not bored. If anything he's starting to think maybe he's not totally done for the night after all. Brittany's just so fucking hot. Like her skin is literally all hot and sweaty, but it's way more than that, of course. It's the continual and frankly obscene gush of her fluids filling his mouth; it's her animalistic panting; it's the way she keeps bucking against his face and his fingers so desperately, like the multiple orgasms he's already given her aren't enough to satisfy her overpowering sexual need, but like she's on the verge of something epic that just might. He so wants to give her that epic something.

But it doesn't look like it's going to happen. She's been lingering there on the edge for a long time without going over. Sam's actually starting to question how much longer he can keep going. He's determined to do everything he can before he even considers giving up, though. He shoves a couple fingers way up inside her cunt, so far that you couldn't really say he's still just fingering her; you'd have to say he's finger-fucking her. At the same time he starts to suck on her clit, hard, like the way she sucks his dick when she's dying for him to come.

Almost immediately Brittany's body goes rigid. Like seriously stiff as a board. And then it starts to tremble all over, and she mutters, "Oh, shit." She's just realized that the big one she was hoping for is here, and it might be bigger than she can handle. Which is going to suck if it's true, because there's no way she could stop it now.

It takes control of all her muscles, arching her off the bed, grinding her clit furiously against Sam's mouth and clamping down on his fingers as if convinced they were a real cock that she could squeeze the cum out of. But there's more than enough cum coming out of her, squirting out, drenching her boyfriend's face and her own thighs and the sheets. She's thrashing so hard that she can't even scream, it's all she can do to gasp for enough air to keep coming.

And she does, she keeps coming and coming, and Sam can barely breathe but he doesn't care, it's the hottest thing ever and he so wishes he were fucking her right now because her clenching pussy feels amazing on just his fingers, and if it were his dick instead, Jesus Christ. He's totally hard again, and he's going to fuck her, just as soon as she comes down from her orgasm and relaxes enough for him to be able to get it in.

It ends as suddenly as it started, and Brittany collapses on the bed, completely limp. She feels as relaxed and content as she ever has in her life.

Sam comes up for air, resting his head on Brittany's hip. He strokes her side soothingly, trying to give her a minute to catch her breath even though he's dying to get back to it. He touches her inner thigh, where it's all wet from when she—he thinks she actually squirted, which he didn't even think was a real thing, and it's so amazing he wants to investigate the source. But when he separates her folds and just barely—accidentally, actually—lets one finger graze across her clit, she yelps and jerks back. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asks.

"I got shocked," she says. "What was that?"

"I just barely touched your clit."

"Well, don't do it again," Brittany says. "Wait, I can't believe I just said that. Except it feels really weird, it's like Henriette is telling me she wants to be left alone for a while. I don't understand it."

Except Sam does understand it. He never thought it would happen to Brittany, but he understands.

Still, that doesn't mean he's not disappointed. He does try not to actually whine when he says, "I really wanted to fuck you again."

Brittany's disappointed too. "I'm sorry, babe. Maybe…no, wait. You totally can."

"No, it's fine. I wouldn't even enjoy it knowing Henriette didn't want it."

"But Henriette doesn't have to be involved. Remember when we were talking about you fucking my ass?"

"Oh, Jesus, Britt." Sam has no idea how that idea ever managed to slip his mind, but he definitely remembers it now. "Are you sure, though?"

"Totally. In fact it's perfect, because I'm so relaxed it shouldn't take long to get me ready."

Brittany has to talk Sam through the whole "getting her ready" thing. "First, go get the lube from my top drawer, and when you come back with it, roll me over onto my stomach." Technically she could probably roll herself over, but she feels way too relaxed and comfy to want to move a muscle. Even talking is a little tiring, frankly, but she can't think of a way to avoid it. Sam comes back with the lube and rolls her over, and she says "Okay, now squirt some on your fingers and spread it around my hole."

Sam nudges Brittany's legs apart and palms her butt cheeks. "Jesus," he mutters as he takes a good look at what's in between them. He's spent a fair amount of time looking at his girlfriend's ass before, but not really her asshole. It's so…so little.

He squirts some lube on his fingers—way too much, and some spills onto the sheets, but they're definitely going to have to be washed anyway, so he doesn't worry about it—and gently touches his fingers to Brittany's puckered little hole. He's about to ask if it's okay when she goes, "Mmm, yeah, just like that." So he rubs a little more on until she tells him, "Stick your finger in and rub some around on the inside…Oh yeah, that's good, keep twisting it around like that…"

Brittany's actually a little surprised by how good Sam's fingers feel in her. Not because she doesn't usually like butt stuff—she totally does—or because she doesn't usually like Sam stuff—she totally, totally does!—but just because of how not-horny-anymore she was before he started. The only thing that's different now, really, from times when she is horny before they start, is that she's not impatient for more; she's just enjoying what he's doing for however long he wants to do it.

Sam's ready, he's so ready to sink his cock inside her sweet little ass. But he's determined to wait until she says she's ready. Though…is she waiting for him to ask? What if she's waiting for him to ask? It's not like her to be shy or anything, but, well, she is pretty tired, so…He's up to three fingers inside her and down to half a bottle of lube before he finally breaks down and asks, "So…is that enough, or…?"

"Yeah, totally. You want to fuck me now?"

"Yes! I mean…if you're ready."

"Silly. I just said I was." Brittany pulls her knees in under her and lifts her ass up for him. Holy fuck, she looks hot like this. Sam lines himself up behind her, holds onto her hips, and slowly, slowly pushes his cock through her tight little ring. "Fuck," he mumbles to himself. "Holy…holy fuck."

"Yeah," Brittany sighs. "It's good, right?"

"So good," Sam agrees.

Brittany moans softly as Sam gradually fills her ass. It feels so good that she doesn't even mind that it's so slow.

"You okay, Britt?" Sam asks after a few minutes of light, careful pumping.

"Way better than okay," she says, before it dawns on her: he's not going slow because he wants to; he's going slow because he's afraid of hurting her. "You can go as fast as you want. As hard as you want too."

"Are you—"

"And, yes, I'm sure."

"Thank god." Brittany's ass feels amazing, and holding back was killing him. Not that he goes all out right away; he picks up the pace gradually, just to make sure she really is okay. He knows for sure she really is when, after several minutes, she whines and says, "Come on, Sammy. Nail my ass like you nail my pussy."

Yeah, Brittany's not quite content with Sam's restraint anymore. Not when she knows what he's capable of…and now needs what he's capable of.

This time Sam doesn't ask if she's sure; he just tightens his grip on her hips and lets her have it.

It's so hot seeing her take it. She's such a champ. She does start to scream after a few minutes, but Sam knows her screaming well enough to know it's not from pain. "Are you gonna come, Britt?" he asks, astonished. "You gonna come from getting your ass fucked?"

"Yeah," Brittany huffs in between screams. She's not going to come just from getting her ass fucked, but it is the ass-fucking that's made her need to rub her clit. "Yeah, I need to really bad."

"Oh, fuck!" Sam never gets tired of making Brittany come, but learning that he can do it from fucking her in the butt? It's enough to send him over the edge, and he feels himself releasing burst after burst of cum inside her.

The thick, warm blast shooting way up into the farthest recesses of her ass sets Brittany off. Her ass muscles clamp down on Sam's dick as her fingers fly back and forth across her clit; she whimpers into the pillow because she has no voice left to scream with.

They both collapse after orgasm, completely exhausted and fully sated. For the second time in as many nights, they fall asleep with Sam's dick still inside Brittany.

XOXOXO

"Can we just skip school and stay in bed all day today?" Brittany asks when the alarm rudely awakens them.

"I'd love to, babe," Sam agrees. "But aren't your parents getting home later this morning?" Sam's pretty sure Brittany's parents know he's sleeping with their daughter, but he still doesn't want them to catch him in the act.

"Yeah," Brittany concedes reluctantly. She sighs and adds, "I guess we'd better get dressed."

Brittany has no trouble getting dressed, but Sam…well, his only pair of pants is still outside. And there were storms most of the weekend—not that either of them especially noticed at the time, but now his jeans are soaked and tangled in the rosebushes. Brittany manages to untangle them, breaking off several branches in the process. She takes them into the laundry room and throws them in the dryer.

The dryer is old and it wobbles a lot when it's running, which gives Brittany an idea. Well, it's not a new idea. She's sat on the dryer to masturbate before, and it's awesome, but she's never gotten fucked on top of the dryer before.

Sam doesn't take much convincing. He does protest that it'll make them late for school, but Brittany points out that they have to wait for his pants to dry anyway.

Brittany sheds her spanks and panties and hops up on top of the dryer. It's like sitting on top of a giant vibrator.

Sam has a little trouble figuring out how he's going to fuck her. There's not enough room for both of them up there unless she were to sit in his lap, but it's clear she's enjoying being right on top of the shaking appliance way too much to entertain that suggestion. The top of the dryer is too high for him to be able to just stand in front of it between her legs, unless…Okay, there's a hamper that's probably not exactly designed to be stood on, but it seems pretty study (as hampers go) and looks about the right height (if he lays it on its side), and he thinks it'll work.

It's pretty awkward, and he nearly falls a couple times, but Brittany comes really quickly. As much as he'd like to think it's because he's just that good, Sam's pretty sure it's more from the dryer than from him. Under normal circumstances he'd keep going and make her come a couple more times, but that seems almost guaranteed to end in injury under the actual circumstances.

Brittany pouts when he pulls out of her and gets down. "You didn't even come," she says.

"I didn't want to break my neck," Sam says. "Or your mom's hamper. Maybe we can finish somewhere else?"

"No, I've got a better idea. Trade places with me!"

She hops down, and Sam takes her place on top of the dryer. It feels kind of…yeah, okay, he can see why she likes it up here. He's thinking he should scoot back a little to make it easier for her to climb on top of him, when she drops her head in his lap instead and starts sucking him.

The dryer's vibrations don't do quite as much for Sam as they did for Brittany. But then, Brittany is sucking his dick—and not in the way she does when she's teasing, but in the way she does when she wants his cum in her mouth. So it's not long before he's on the brink.

And being on the brink as he is, not to mention all the noise he and Brittany and the dryer are making, it's perhaps not surprising that he doesn't hear the front door open.

But he does hear Brittany's mother yell, "Brittany Susan Pierce! What on earth did you do to Admiral Rodney!?"

Sam would have thought that hearing his girlfriend's mother refer to his dick by name would be enough to prevent him from coming in his girlfriend's mouth. But sometimes a guy is just so close that...well, that hearing his girlfriend's mother refer to his dick by name isn't enough to stop the inevitable. He recites "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," as he helplessly unloads.

Brittany collects all the warm, gooey goodness in her mouth, not lifting her head until she's sure she's got it all. She calls out, "What?" and then swallows.

"I asked what you did to Admiral Rodney!" her mother says, and she sounds a lot closer now. "Where are you? The laundry room?"

Sam just barely manages to pull his still-damp jeans out of the dryer and put them on before Mrs. Pierce throws open the door. "We trust you alone in the house for one weekend and this is what happens? It's a disgrace is what it is!" Sam feels his face burning up. His stomach drops and he thinks he's going to puke. Brittany's mother looks at him and…and smiles. "Hi, Sam," she says. "Did you have a good time this weekend?"

"Um…yeah. Thanks. I mean…hi...to you too."

"Please tell my daughter that Admiral Rodney is delicate and needs to be treated with care."

Sam breaks into a coughing fit.

"Honey, are you all right?" Mrs. Pierce asks. She pats him on the back. "Hold on a minute," she says before walking out of the laundry room.

Sam keeps coughing. He manages to stop just in time to start to ask, "How does she—"

But he can't finish the question because Brittany's mom is back. She's got a glass of water, which she hands to Sam, and one of the broken-off rosebush branches, which she holds accusingly in front of Brittany's face. "Just look what you did to him!"

"Sorry, Mom," Brittany says.

"Sorry doesn't heal Admiral Rodney," her mother says. "But still, I hope you said it to him and not just to me."

"I did," Brittany says. "I mean…I will. I promise."

"And say it like you mean it." Mrs. Pierce checks her watch. "Shouldn't you two be on your way to school?"

"Yep, we were just about to leave," Brittany says. "We just have to finish up one quick thing in here first." Namely, she has to put back on the spanks and panties that she kicked behind the hamper right before her mother busted in on them.

"Okay, well don't be late. Your father and I have been driving all night, so I'm going to bed. Don't forget to say sorry to you-know-who on your way out."

"Okay, Mom. Good night!"

As soon as they're alone again, Sam asks, "So…you named my dick after your mother's rosebush?"

Brittany shrugs. "Not exactly. I just thought it was a stupid name for a flower but an awesome name for your cock."

"Oh, okay. And Henriette?"

"Same. She's out back, though."

"Oh."

"I mean, come on. Doesn't the name Baronne Henriette de Snoy make you think of my pussy and not some stupid bush? I mean…" Brittany starts to giggle at her own inadvertent use of the word bush.

"Okay, yes," Sam concedes. "I'll never hear that name without thinking of your junk. And I'll never hear Admiral Rodney without thinking of mine. In fact, whenever I hear either one I'll be thinking of my junk inside your junk."

Brittany sighs. "You're so romantic, Sammy."

"As romantic as Rodney?"

"Way, way more."