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I didn’t date because the college was only thirty miles from my hometown and Mrs. Wilton’s home. I had an early class on Tuesday and a late class on Wednesday. I took a bus and was ringing her doorbell by noon on Tuesday.

Mrs. Wilton answered the door wearing just a robe. As soon as she closed the door behind me, the robe came off and Mrs. Wilton made herself comfortable on her sofa. I made myself comfortable on my knees. “Mrs. Wilton, you’re more beautiful than last week.”

“Thank you, Marty. Have you been looking forward to eating my pussy?”

“I haven’t thought of anything else.”

“Don’t neglect your schoolwork, young man. But right now, I know what you want.” She pushed my head forward.

“Marty, your tongue gets better and better every time I see you. Lick my pussy like I taught you.” What Mrs. Wilton really meant was do my clitoris and make me cum one more time.

Later, “Marty, you know I wouldn’t be much of a hostess, if I didn’t reciprocate. Come to bed.”

Later that night there was more pussy eating and another blowjob.

In the morning, Mrs. Wilton insisted, “I want you to remember what you’ll get when you come back here.” She gave me another blowjob. I had to rush to catch the bus and just made my Wednesday afternoon class.

As you might imagine I had trouble concentrating in that Wednesday afternoon class. I also had trouble concentrating in that early Tuesday class as I looked forward to Mrs. Wilton’s pussy.

Don’t think I saw Mrs. Wilton just on Tuesdays and Wednesday mornings.

Friday after my last class, I was on the bus back to my hometown and Mrs. Wilton’s bed.

To make in clear, all through the summer and into the Fall, there was only pussy eating and blowjobs. I say ‘just,’ but I don’t mean it the way it sounds. I was completely satisfied when I left to go back to campus. And Mrs. Wilton always had the biggest smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled when she looked at me with my cock in her mouth or when my tongue was in her pussy.

That changed on the long Columbus Day weekend.

“Marty, I’ve never felt so alive, but it’s time I taught you something else about making love to a woman.”

She’d been sucking my cock for the past ten minutes. Honestly, I had no idea what she was talking about. “Marty, come to bed with me.” She looked me in the eyes, “Marty, I want you to fuck me.”

Theoretically, I was still a virgin. I mean, I can’t tell you how many blowjobs Mrs. Wilton gave me, but I guess officially I was still pure, which I thought was laughable.

Mrs. Wilton led the way. “Marty, you don’t just stick your cock in my pussy. A woman needs to get her juices flowing, and the best way to do that is with your tongue,” she smiled. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Mrs. Wilton smiled because through the summer and into the Fall, she discovered something about me.

For me there was nothing better than eating Mrs. Wilton’s pussy. Her fragrance, her taste, her reaction. Her sixty-year-old pussy.

Her cocksucking reciprocity didn’t hurt either, but it was eating her pussy that really turned me on. My cock got so hard; harder than when she was blowing me.

And today, like every other day with her, I just didn’t want to quit. I mean, I was looking forward to fucking for the first time, but once my tongue started . . .

This time after Mrs. Wilton had her second orgasm, she insisted. “Come on Marty, get on top of me. You have my pussy so ready for your big cock.”

About the ‘big’ cock thing. Mrs. Wilton always used words like that to describe my cock: huge, magnificent, majestic, horse-like, mammoth, humongous. Like I said above, I didn’t know any better. I was certain that Mrs. Wilton was much more familiar with cocks.

Fucking was grand. It must be natural because it didn’t take long for Mrs. Wilton to be moaning and sighing underneath me. Her big ass and legs were moving. “Marty, take me by the ankles, watch your gigantic cock go in and out of my pussy.”

Except for eating her pussy and blowjobs, fucking was the greatest thing.

Over the next few years, Mrs. Wilton showed me different ways to fuck. She liked to be on top. “Marty, I can move to make myself cum like this. Besides, you can play with my titties; you don’t pay enough attention to them. I get the sense you don’t like them.”

“It’s not that Mrs. Wilton. It’s just that your pussy is so sweet; I can’t leave it alone.”

“That’s the right answer, Marty. Now, show Mrs. Wilton again how much you love eating her pussy.”

When she showed me how to fuck her like a dog, she insisted we do it in the dark. “I don’t want you looking at my fat, wrinkly old ass.”

Of all the ways we fucked, I preferred holding her by the ankles and watching my cock slide in and out. To be truthful, I liked looking at her naked body like that; I could see all of it.

Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Wilton did not have an attractive body. Afterall, she was over sixty. It’s just that the female body intrigued me.

Of all the ways we had sex, my preference was eating her pussy.

In the Spring of my senior year in college, I went to Florida during Spring break with some of my guy friends. Our one last fling together before graduation.

Mrs. Wilton gave me some advice. “Marty, I’ll bet there isn’t a boy your age that eats pussy like you do. While you’re in Florida if you can convince a girl to let you eat her, she’ll never forget you; she’ll crawl to the ends of the earth for more of your tongue.”

That’s another thing, although I was content with Mrs. Wilton, she was always trying to get me to go out with girls my age. “Marty, you have so much to offer.” She’d giggle, as she stroked my cock, “and the way you eat pussy, damn; the girls will go wild.”

They didn’t go wild because I didn’t even try.

Everything changed while I was in Florida.

No, I didn’t meet the most beautiful girl in the world with the most delicious pussy, and we lived happily ever after.

Mrs. Wilton died. She had a massive heart attack.

TO BE CONTINUED

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