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Finally, it was time to return to the United States. I could go to California and look up Lee-Lee or Belinda. I could go to Mexico and knock on Lucinda's door.

I was twenty-eight years old and decided to go home to Pennsylvania.

I knocked on her door. Mrs. Hamlin didn't recognize me. It had been almost six years. "Sam, Sam Rosling? It is you."

I barely recognized her. Her hair was white and in my head I guessed she was now in her late-sixties. We had coffee and talked about what I'd been doing. The teaching, not the women and I didn't mention my time as Frau Schmidt's cunt eating boy.

"Sam, I'm not sure why you came by other than to say hello. You were the last man I was with. I have wonderful memories. I hope you do too."

"If I may say, Mrs. Hamlin, I fondly recall that you had the sweetest pussy."

"You make me blush, Sam. Am I right to assume that you're more interested in much younger pussy these days?"

"Ummm, Mrs. Hamlin, your assumption would be wrong. On the flight from Germany, all I thought about was what it might be like."

"What it might be like to what? Really, Sam. Look at me. I don't think I'm desirable."

"Mrs. Hamlin, I think you look very desirable."

"Are you sure? I have to tell you that I'm not sure I have the energy for all that fucking stuff."

"Ummmm, Mrs. Hamlin, you remember what I like."

"Let's do this. You run along home to see your folks. I have a lot of things to do if I have a "date" tonight. Come back about 6. Oh, and Sam, if I understand you right, you're coming for dinner." There was a twinkle in her eyes.

Mrs. Hamlin took a long, hot bath. She shaved her legs which she was no longer fastidious about doing, She didn't do anything to her pubic hair; she never had, but she did shave as high on her thighs as possible. To herself she said, ‘I can't believe Sam is still interested.'

She found a negligee that showed a lot of cleavage. ‘The last time Sam saw them they were like cow udders. I can't imagine what he thinks of them now,' she said half aloud.

If you recall, it wasn't just Mrs. Hamlin's titties that were big. She had big thighs; the kids used to call her piano legs, a big ass and a big thick bush.

Mrs. Hamlin answered the door wearing just that low cut negligee.

I brought a bottle of wine. If I recalled, it was her favorite. "Mrs. Hamlin, you look lovely."

"And Sam, I've given your offer some thought. I'm looking forward to this evening, but I'm a little nervous about this. Thank you for the wine. I could use a glass or two."

"Mrs. Hamlin, it's me, Sam. You know me better than just about anyone. There's nothing to be nervous about. You know I don't bite."

"I know you don't bite anything if I recall, but I'm six years older."

I opened the wine, and we sat on the couch, still reminiscing. It took a while, but finally Mrs. Hamlin leaned forward and kissed me. Then she took the straps of her negligee off her shoulders. "Sam, make me feel desirable tonight."

Those humongous titties were almost fully exposed. "Mrs. Hamlin, they're

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