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She took off her dress and was soon down to her panties and bra. She was older and smaller than Cynthia, with grey hair, short legs. She took off her bra: she had small, saggy breasts. They were what Sara's might look like in thirty years; except they were black.

"My husband has a thing for white pussy, and as you can see," she took off her panties, "I don't have a white pussy, but Cynthia says you have a thing for black pussy and it just so happens . . ."

Cynthia often sat in a chair in the hotel suite with her legs over the arms while I got on my knees. Karolyn sat in this suite's arm chair, "I have a black pussy." She spread her legs as wide as possible.

Well, it was true, I couldn't get enough of Mrs. Cynthia Jones' black pussy, but that didn't mean I liked just any black pussy.

I didn't find Karolyn all that attractive. After all she appeared to be in her sixties.

On the other hand, I was expecting an evening of fucking, eating and sucking with Cynthia. I was nineteen and my cock had been stirring in my pants since Cynthia set up our little rendezvous.

Above, Cynthia Jones said pussy was pussy, and like I said I was nineteen. What nineteen-year-old rejects pussy? Not me.

I got on my knees. Well, yes, she had a black pussy. Her bush was flexed with grey. It was neatly trimmed; as if she had been meticulous in making it look inviting. She spread her lips. Her open pussy was the brightest pink I'd ever seen.

Inviting? Oh, yeah!!!

I was intrigued. More than intrigued. My tongue was intrigued. Like cocks, tongues have a mind of their own.

I beg to differ with Mrs. Cynthia Jones. Pussy is not pussy. Mrs. Karolyn Jones had the tastiest, most delicious pussy ever. I'm now in my sixties as I'm writing this. I've had more pussy than you can imagine. I've traveled the world. Karolyn had the best tasting pussy.

I spent the next hour on my knees while she sat in that chair with her legs spread. I ate and ate. Cynthia, the first Mrs. Jones, had shown me how to find and do her clitoris.

Karolyn Jones held my head in her hands when I found it. "That's it, Teddy right there. That's where Mrs. Jones likes it." She started to slowly fuck my face.

It had happened infrequently with Cynthia; it happened that very first time with Karolyn. I came in my pants.

With Cynthia; she looked forward to it. It was like a signal that her pussy turned me on.

I wasn't sure how Karolyn Jones would react. I kept eating until the stain dried. It wasn't a chore.

Karolyn was thrilled that her sixty-year-old pussy could still intrigue a man's tongue. Like I said, my tongue was intrigued.

"Teddy, if you're getting tired, we can move to the bed and I can do all the work."

Yes, my neck was getting tired. I wasn't sure what she meant by "I can do all the work." Maybe she meant a blowjob.

No, she'd been talking to Cynthia; of course, she had. Soon I was on my back and Karolyn's lovely, tasty pussy was in my face.

Slowly she rode my face; my tongue was out, and Cynthia knew how to guide her clitoris to it.

It was no more than fifteen or twenty minutes later that I realized: I no longer thought of Mrs. Karolyn Jones as a sixty-year-old black woman. I thought of her as a woman with the most delicious pussy.

Yes, later that night I got a blowjob.

In the morning when she came out of the shower, standing by the bed, she said, "Teddy, I can no longer take the rigors of fucking, but I did have a grand time sucking your big cock."

I got out of bed, "Karolyn, why don't we do this," I guided her to that arm chair. When she sat down, I got on my knees.

Not meeting any resistance, I opened her legs. "Karolyn, you have the most beautiful pussy,"

"And the tastiest?" She pushed my head forward.

An hour later, and after numerous orgasms, Mrs. Karolyn Jones was still sitting in the chair with those short legs over the arms, and I was still on my knees, my tongue busy.

It was then that Karolyn received a call from Mrs. Cynthia Jones, the first Mrs. Jones. "Cynthia, your young friend is a little shy, we really haven't got to know each other yet. We're going to need another day. Call me tomorrow." She hung up.

She tried not to giggle. "Teddy, do my clitoris again, You know how much Karolyn's pussy likes that."

That's how our day went: pussy eating while on my knees; pussy eating while on my back with Karolyn fucking my face; then there was the cock sucking.

Mrs. Cynthia Jones, the first Mrs. Jones, called right after Karolyn and I had room service deliver dinner. We were debating whether I'd have her pussy for dessert or she'd give me a blowjob. Admittedly, we were both tired.

"Cynthia, I've just about run out of energy. He's all yours, but I think I've worn him out. Teddy needs a good night's sleep."

TO BE CONTINUED

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