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unusually hot. I heard him start the shower.

I waited a few minutes; then I'm not sure what came over me. My own sex life was nothing to brag about. I was forty-eight and hadn't even had a date in a decade.

Well, that's not the whole story. In high school I turned eighteen the summer between my junior and senior year. I'd been going out with Kyle Denbright since our sophomore year. He was pressuring me for sex. He was a guy, of course he was.

Finally, that summer I gave in. It's not what you think. I might have overheard my older brother, who was in college, talking about blowjobs.

I was really smart, not to brag. I had plans for college and even law school. I wasn't going to take any chances I'd get pregnant. A blowjob was the perfect solution. Kyle would get what he wanted, and I'd make sure I didn't get pregnant.

Little did I know that I'd fall in love. Not with Kyle and not with his cock. I fell in love with blowjobs and to top it all off, I discovered I was a natural. It wasn't that Kyle was big, but even that first time, I could easily take all of his cock in my mouth. I didn't know that most girls couldn't and the more I did Kyle, the better I got.

Our senior year, I blew Kyle all the time. That is until New Year's Eve when we had a big fight and broke up.

I didn't go out with anyone for a while, but in the Spring, a couple of guys asked me out, and one thing led to another. Before the evening ended, I ended up on my knees. This happened with four or five guys; maybe more.

The week before graduation, I was in a stall in the girls room when I heard two girls talking, "Did you hear that Ellen McHugh gave Mike Nicholson a blowjob?"

"I heard she used to blow Kyle Denbright all the time."

"What a slut."

"Pauline, not just a slut, a cocksucking slut."

I was shocked that everyone knew. I turned down dates for the rest of the summer, and couldn't wait to leave California for my Ivy League college on the East Coast.

Like I said, I loved blowjobs. I didn't date much; I was too busy with school work. However, when I did, I just couldn't help myself. The guys I went out with praised my skill and I always had second and third dates.

I didn't want any kind of exclusive relationship. Frankly, I had too much work to do to have any kind of relationship. That was my dating life through college and into law school. Technically, I was still a virgin. I stayed that way until my third year of law school when I met Don Arenhalter.

If I was number #1 in my law school class, Donnie was #2. We had our choice of law firms to go to work for. Donnie went to work for the federal government in Washington, DC and I took a job with a very prestigious firm in Atlanta. We thought we could make the long-distance thing work.

We got married shortly after passing the bar.

Sex relieved a lot of stress during our final year of law school and while studying for the bar. I willingly lost my virginity, although to be fair, I didn't see the big deal about it. Fucking was just okay; it seemed to be over before it started.

On our honeymoon, Donnie was embarrassed that it was over so quickly. "Baby, you last a longtime when I blow you."

That was true and I'm not complaining. I loved sucking cock and I loved sucking my husband's cock. For whatever reasons, it took Donnie a long time to cum when I sucked his cock. One of the reasons I married him was that Donnie had the biggest cock I'd ever had in my mouth and by then there'd been too many to count.

It was long and thick: a joy to suck; a joy to deep throat. I could suck that cock all night and did. On that honeymoon, we came to an informal agreement that our preferred way of having sex was blowjobs. Donnie wasn't embarrassed that he'd cum too soon. As for me, my law firm considered me a rising star. I was on the fast track to being a partner. A pregnancy would derail my career. Blowjobs were perfect.

I'm not sure what it was but Donnie had this deep seated need to share his big cock with as many women as possible. Going back to the incident in the girls' room in high school, I never liked the word cocksucker. I considered myself a blowess and I thought I was unique.

In the divorce proceedings, I discovered that there are lots of blowesses out there. Or as I referred to them to my divorce attorney, "those little cocksucking sluts." We were only married five years.

Once I was single again, I found that men did not like dating women taller than them. High school and college boys would fuck anyone with a pussy and they adored my desire to blow them. The real world was different. The average man is 5'9" tall. Wearing heels, which was a part of the uniform for women in the American legal profession, I was over 6' tall.

There wasn't much I could do about it, but on a business trip from my suburban Atlanta office to Chicago, I came up with an idea. Through research, I found the bars professional basketball players hung out in and the hotel where visiting teams stayed.

The bar was a god-send. Tall men everywhere and it didn't take long for me to be invited to a basketball player's room. It wasn't very romantic, but the fucking was phenomenal. It was the first time I'd really been fucked. The first time I really enjoyed being fucked.

One of the first was Barry. He had a big cock and as a professional athlete, incredible stamina. He was 6'7" tall. We fucked and fucked. It was by far the biggest I'd ever had, bigger than my ex-husband's, and I loved the way Barry filled me up. "Baby, I've never fucked white pussy like yours. I never knew white pussy could taste so sweet."

Yes, he ate me too. Something Donnie seemed allergic to doing. His tongue work made me cum more than once, and had me begging to get fucked. That was new to me. If anything, I'd beg to suck it. Barry's tongue was so good. "Please, please, fuck me. Give me your cock. My pussy needs your cock."

In the morning, when he asked me to blow him, I didn't hesitate and as I mentioned I had considerable expertise. Given the size of Barry's cock, I couldn't take it all, but I bet I took more than any of his other lovers. Barry noted, "that's it baby, you love my big black cock, don't you?"

"Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmm, hmmmmmm."

"Suck it, that's it, suck it." I didn't need directions, but was pleased that he liked my mouth. I liked his cock. Liked it enough to suck it until I tasted his cum.

I had a smile on my face on that flight back to Atlanta. Over the next few months, on occasion I'd drive into Atlanta, go to a bar where professional athletes hung out. Rarely did I spend a night alone. Not one basketball player looked up to me. I liked looking up at them when we danced. I loved looking up to them when I was on my knees.

Some were black and some were white. It didn't matter to me. I loved the idea of having a man overwhelm me with his size, and sometimes the size of his cock. What I didn't like was when those basketball players brought up race. Like when they'd say, "Ellen, you have the finest white pussy." Or "suck my big black cock, baby."

Even the white players commented on race. "Ellen, my teammates fix me up with dates, sometimes black girls, but there's nothing finer than your white pussy."

I still loved sucking cock; I still preferred sucking cock. Fucking wasn't as bad as I feared. The bigger the better, but it didn't have to be black. It just had to be big.

I'd never had any interest in reading the sports pages, but now, I made sure I drove into Atlanta when Barry's team was playing. I was surprised he played so well after we spent the night together. He got no rest from me: I couldn't get enough of that big cock. I wanted it in my mouth or my pussy all night long. Like I said, after he ate me, I begged him to fuck me.

Barry had my phone number and I was somewhat shocked to find out that he passed it on to other players: black and white. There must be a network among professional athletes. I got calls from baseball players, football players, even hockey players. I found myself making the drive into Atlanta more frequently.

I can't tell you who were the best lovers or who had the biggest cocks, but I'll tell you the next few years were glorious. Okay, I'll admit it, I may not have understood a word they said, but Latino baseball players were the most romantic lovers. They didn't necessarily have the biggest cocks. Sometimes they whispered in my ear in Spanish. I couldn't understand a word they said. They didn't fuck me; they made love to me with their cocks and their tongues. In turn, I wasn't a blowess, I made love to their cocks with my mouth.

But to be honest, I preferred basketball players and not necessarily black basketball players. They were so much bigger than me; they made me feel so small, so vulnerable, so submissive.

Most times I'd go to bed with my panties on. If a guy had a really big cock, like Barry, I'd lie and tell him I was having my period. They weren't disappointed when I gave them a blowjob and then when they were ready, another one. I became very good at deep throating even the biggest cock. "Barry told me you could swallow it all, baby, but I didn't believe it. Keep sucking it, baby." I didn't like that within that circle of athletes; I had a reputation.

If they weren't huge, I'd still suck them, but we'd end up fucking and most nights I'd get my pussy eaten.

It wasn't just in Atlanta. Whenever I had a business trip, I'd find out where the professional athletes stayed and hung out. The rest was easy.

Once I turned thirty, I found that those basketball players no longer seemed interested. I thought my sex life was over. Well not completely. There was Tommy. He was about 8" long and his batteries lasted two or three months. He never let me down. Tommy, that's what I called my dildo.

Now, here I was, fifty was just around the corner and I was ‘babysitting' a teenage boy.

Perhaps, Steve thought I was asleep. The bathroom door was closed, but not completely.

I quietly got out of bed, put on a robe and tip-toed down the hall and peeked in the bathroom. I could see him clearly through the shower glass. I watched as he got his cock all soapy and jerked off. Little did he know that I was spying on him.

Damn, that was one big cock he was playing with. Sometimes Steve used both hands to stroke it. Sometimes he stroked it with one hand and played with his big balls with the other.

I heard him groan and grunt, and he sprayed all over the shower glass. I started to leave when I saw him playing with his cock again. I'd forgotten what eighteen-year-old boys were like. I was impressed that he could go again so quickly.

With one hand he was stroking his cock and with the other Steve was using a wash cloth to clean the cum off the shower glass. This time he lasted much longer. His soapy hand going up and down on his long cock.

Like I said, it had been a long time since I'd dated but what Steve was holding in his hand, even through the shower glass and the steam from the shower was much bigger than any cock I remembered. Maybe Barry back in Chicago was that big, maybe. When I heard him groan again, I quietly went back to my room, closed the door, removed my robe and got in bed.

I generally slept in pajamas; a loose top and pants which tied at the waist. Of course, I didn't bring Tommy with me. I did, however, slip my hand inside my pj bottoms and fell asleep fantasizing about the huge cock I'd just seen. A huge cock on a boy thirty years younger than me.

I was sure Steve didn't know I spied on him; that is until the next morning. He was just waking up when I walked into his bedroom with a tray. "I thought I'd make you breakfast. Your mom said you like French Toast."

"Thank you." He sat up and I sat on the edge of the bed while he ate. "How was your date last night?"

"Fine."

"It must not have been too good. You were having a grand time in the shower last night."

He blushed. "I thought you were sleeping."

"No, I was reading in bed. I heard you in the shower."

He was under the blankets. I rubbed his leg, above his thigh. "Steve, ya' know I've known you since you were a baby. I've always thought of you as a little boy, but Steve you're a man. Does your girlfriend know what you've got?"

I think he knew what I meant, but he didn't answer me. He was 6' 3" tall and played on the high school's basketball team. After practice he must have showered with the other guys. He had to know.

"Steve, I know high school girls don't understand that boys need relief and need it frequently. While I'm here, my door is always open even when I'm asleep. Don't hesitate if you need to release some of that pent up energy you have."

I was sure he knew what I meant.

TO BE CONTINUED

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