<em>Oh no, not here, not <span class="bbc_u">now</span>!</em>Lisle thought as the huge head of Gerlinde's shaft nudged her lips.  Opening her mouth to protest - to beg for those precious few moments - only made her more vulnerable to the insistent press of the organ.<br/><br/>The words were stifled in her throat as her mouth was filled.  She tasted the smoky thickness of her own cream, and the all-too familiar bitter-salt of Gerlinde's seed, and felt tears sting again as a tightness spread through her.  Dampness was spreading between her feet, wetting the very edges of her toes as she squatted in the sand.<br/><br/>There was no choice but to lick.  Even with a tight, trapped sound rising in her throat, Lisle licked.