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After Roberta Lee returned to Gulfport and I finished junior college, it was time for me to return home. I’d been living a fairy tale. My dad’s tour of duty was over. At heart I was a Mississippi girl.

It was almost impossible to say good-bye to Jackson; I was certain that my titties and goodies would never be the same. I was certain there’d never be another cock like Jackson’s or tongue.

Back home, I married Junior Jenkins and Roberta Lee married Bobby Joe Bonner. It was the conventional thing to do. We both wore white. It was tradition, but both of us wore a red garter on our left thigh and a black one on our right. Our black ones, before they were stretched, were both exactly seven inches long.

That was not a coincidence. We both giggled when Roberta Lee, my maid of honor, helped me put mine on. We did the same when I helped her with hers.

Our lives were normal and mundane, except when they weren’t.

Two or three times a year Roberta Lee and I drove over to New Orleans for a long weekend. It was the one place in the segregated south where the races could mix and people, including the police, closed their eyes.

We were dressed like we were looking to have our goodies taken care of when we walked into one of those back alley mixed race clubs everyone knew it.

Long, tall, blonde Roberta Lee Hamlin flaunting her 36CCs which were like a magnet for those colored boys. I was back home; Jackson Alexandander in San Diego might have been a black man, but here they were all colored boys.

As for me, I attracted those colored boys, too. I was a white girl, and everyone knew there was only one reason why a white girl would be in a place like this. Well, with me there were two reasons, he had to have a big cock and his tongue had to have a thing for my white girl goodies.

We weren’t there long before we were asked to dance. The boy that asked Roberta Lee to dance was in his forties. He whispered, “I’m Darwin, are you looking for something, Missy?”

“Darwin, I’m Roberta Lee and I am in dire need of a boy who will appreciate my little white girl titties. . .”

Darwin started to say something. Roberta Lee looked him in the eyes, “I’m not finished and this boy has to have a tongue that will make a girl like me squeal like a pig. Are you that boy, Darwin?”

Ten minutes later they left. I didn’t see Roberta Lee again until it was time to check out of our room which we ended up not using.

As for me. Wearing heels, I was close to six feet tall. To my surprise a boy about 5’5” tall asked me to dance. I was here to get my goodies taken care of, not to get married. I was already married.

When we danced, Joe’s face was right in my 38DDs. Of course, he noticed and so did I. “Girl, those are some mighty fine titties you got there.”

Like I said, we only had a long weekend. There was no time to waste. “If you have a place nearby where we could be alone, you can do more than just stare at them.”

And just like that Roberta Lee and I had our weekend dates. Joe’s cock belied the myth that I’d decided wasn’t a myth at all after sampling Mitchell, Louis, Andrew and my dear Jackson; Goldilocks.

His cock wasn’t much bigger than Junior’s, my husband. The difference which I discovered within an hour after leaving that club was that Joe kept going and going. His average size cock never quit.

“Cindy Lou, I’ve had white pussy before but I have to tell you, there’s never been a pussy like yours. Damn, girl you sure know how to move

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