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Mrs. Jones and I started seeing each other perhaps once a month. She would arrange for a suite at that discreet hotel. She was the best fuck. I couldn't imagine a better blowjob. She had the best tasting pussy.

I liked getting on my knees while Mrs. Jones sat in a chair with her legs spread and her mini-Afro pussy just begging for my tongue. Damn, her pussy was delicious.

Mrs. Jones liked it when I sat in the same chair and she was on her knees. Like I said her mouth was always hungry for my cock. Her pussy was always hungry for my cock.

On our third visit to that discreet hotel, Mrs. Jones was on her knees. "Teddy, I'm going to tell you something that's just between us." At the moment she was sliding her hand up and down my erect cock, and tonguing my cockhead.

I assured her that I could keep a secret.

"Do you know why I'm having an affair with a boy less than half my age?" She didn't wait for an answer. It was a rhetorical question. "My husband, Congressman Kenyatta Jones would be jealous of what I'm doing right now."

...

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