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was time that he became familiar with women.

“Ma’am. I think about it all the time.”

Surprising even herself, the now fifty-seven-year-old Lucinda Grey invited Zachary to her boudoir. The first man to cross that threshold in decades.

She’d gone shopping; explaining to the storekeeper that her granddaughter, approximately the same size was getting married, and she wanted to give her something special for her wedding night.

She wasn’t surprised when the woman suggested negligees much too risqué; not too risqué for her granddaughter, but much too risqué for a woman Mrs. Grey’s age. “Don’t you think this shows too much?” she asked the shop keeper.

“For women like us but young women today are so brazen, trying to lure their husbands into romance. Something like this will certainly do that,” she laughed.

For Mrs. Grey it showed far too much cleavage, and it hung only to her knees: ankles and calves exposed, She’d be embarrassed, but if it enticed young Zachary, she’d have to wear it.

Back in her mansion, she invited young Zachary to her room. He was excited about what he thought was about to happen, but nervous. Mrs. Grey was nervous, too.

She was sitting in a chair, legs crossed; lady-like, but one hand held the hem of her negligee which was dangerously close to the top of her knee. She laughed at herself. In a few minutes, Zachary was going to see far more than her knees.

“Zachary, have you ever seen a woman’s privates?”

“No ma’am.”

“I suppose that means you’re a virgin?”

He blushed.

“Zachary don’t be embarrassed, today’s your special day.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

Slowly, and somewhat hesitantly, Lucinda Grey spread her legs. Like I said, she was a little nervous about this too. “Why don’t you come a little closer? You can take a good look.”

Zachary moved in front of her and stared. She slid her negligee almost high enough to expose all of her. “I know it’s crass and certainly not the word a lady would use, but sometimes in a romantic encounter, a woman’s privates, are called a cunny. You can take a good look.”

The negligee was bunched up to her waist, and her legs were spread as wide as possible.

Zachary stared.

“Why don’t you get on your knees? Get closer.”

He did. At his age, naturally, he was curious.

“Ummm, Mrs. Grey. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, Zachary. You can say it, Mrs. Grey, you have a beautiful cunny.”

He did.

“Now, Zachary, men think that a woman’s cunny has the most exquisite fragrance.” She pushed his head closer to her bush. “Inhale my fragrance, Zachary.”

He did, but within moments the most extraordinary, unexpected thing happened. Without instructions, young Zachary stuck his tongue out.

She felt it but wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Her husband had never done anything like that. Mrs. Trowbridge had told her in general terms that Linc used his tongue on her cunny.

His tongue didn’t stop, and Lucinda Grey started feeling things she’d never felt when her husband mounted her. Things she never felt except when she masturbated, although she’d never admit to that.

“Like that Zachary. Inhale my fragrance, keep using your tongue. You’re such a good boy.”

He did.

That’s all the instructions she gave him. She didn’t know any better, but what she was discovering was that the reformed street urchin, Zachary, seemed to know where his tongue belonged and how to please her.

He didn’t stop; his tongue was busy. It reminded her of the first day she brought him home and her cook prepared a meal for him. He ate and ate and ate. He asked for seconds and then thirds. He was starving.

That’s how he was using his tongue now. He was starving for her cunny.

Then the most incredible thing happened. That tongue found her most sensitive spot; the one that she touched to please herself. It was as if the bed exploded under her. “OOOOOOOOOOH, OOOOOOOOOOOH, OOOOOOH ZACHARY.”

She’d never moved her ass for her husband like she was moving it now, but it was all involuntary.

She’d never felt anything like it. It was almost frightening how good Zachary’s tongue felt. Mrs. Grey wanted to experience that again and again. Her hands held his head against her cunny.

For Zachary. It wasn’t just her fragrance; he’d never tasted anything like the taste of her cunny. It was better than anything he’d ever eaten. Better yet, was Mrs. Grey’s reaction.

Still better, was what was happening to his cock. It felt so much better than when he masturbated. The more his tongue licked her cunny, the better his cock felt. Then he got to the point where he just couldn’t stop licking; just like when he masturbated, he just couldn’t stop, and he felt himself spurt. “Awww, aww, aww,” he sighed.

It had been ages, but Lucinda Grey remembered those same sighs from her husband when he finished with her.

Now, she held Zachary’s head tighter against her cunny. She could feel his breath against her cunny; could feel him breathing hard.

“Zachary, you’re so good to Mrs. Grey’s cunny. I hope you liked it; I’ll want you to do it again.”

He could only mumble with his face in her thick dark bush, “Hmmmmm, Mrs. Grey, I-I-I never tasted anything so good.” Then it just came out as he thought of that first meal her cook served him. “Ma’am, I’ll eat your cunny anytime.”

From then on, he called it eating her cunny. From then on, “Zachary, I hope you’re in the mood to eat my cunny this morning.”

He was never not in the mood.

She couldn’t help but notice the wet spot on the front of his pants when he got up. “Zachary, you did enjoy it as much as I did. That makes me so happy. Whenever you’re ready my cunny will be waiting.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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