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A boys' weekend by the lake take an interesting turn.
When she asked me in for a nightcap, how could I say no?
She brought two cr__me de cacaos, then asked, "Mind if I slip into something more comfortable?"
Joanne popped into the bathroom and emerged wearing a filmy lavender peignoir that left nothing to the imagination. All I could gasp was, "Beautiful!"
"Nothing you haven't seen before, many times. Monday through Friday, week after week. I don't know whether to be flattered or scared of you."
"Then feel flattered. I'm nobody to be scared of, unless you're afraid to be kissed."
Joanne sat on the loveseat next to me, moved close enough so that her hair brushed up against my cheek, and said, "I'd rather be made love to. If you're in the mood, that is."
Her unmade bed was close by. I swooped her up and carried her there. She seemed lighter than air. I lay her down on the bed, stroked her thighs, drew her legs apart and crawled between them, eagerly approaching her pussy and anxious to bestow oral sex on a woman, my first time. Giggling with excitement she said, "Maybe I'd better freshen up first. After all, I've been dancing all night."
"Don't bother," I said hoarsely.
"You sure, Jeremy? Just a once-over with a wet washcloth? Won't take a sec."
Instead of answering I slipped off her panties and buried my tongue between her generous pussy lips. She shuddered and squealed, I hoped with pleasure. I was barely twenty-one and had never eaten a woman's pussy before. Although I'd seen it done plenty of times in porn movies, the real thing was even better. I loved the sea taste of her, the low-down scent that was undeniably woman in all her sexual glory. I loved knowing that she knew I was delighting in the honest funk of her as I licked and licked, savoring her intensifying response. She near-climaxed with a scream when I found her slickened clit and focused my tongue-pressure on it for many minutes. I reached upward and played with her nipples, those twin glories I had stared at for months, now at the mercy of my tweaking fingertips. They were already erect but grew even harder with my steady attentions.
Joanne began to groan, rhythmically louder and louder as I lapped away at her. All at once she uttered a high-pitched sustained sound that was almost a whistle. Her legs clamped around my neck, heels kicked against my lower back as she arched hers. Finally she went limp, panting and laughing.
"Ooh, you're good, Jeremy! You're so good! Omigod, you made me cum like a bitch in heat! That's the first time anybody's gotten me off in months, I swear!"
I stood up on my knees in bed and said, "Glad you enjoyed it."
"I'm going to chain you up and make you do this every night, Jeremy," she said.
"No chain necessary." For the next semester until I left school it became a regular thing between us. As soon as she was through at the club I would drive her to her place, she would undress and I would eat her pussy until she came, sometimes multiple times, seven being our record. You're probably wondering why she never reciprocated or why we never shared intercourse. It was because of something Joanne had shared with me later that first night. Lustful as a puppy, I had begged her to fellate me or for us to have straight missionary sex. She declined, saying, "I'm a Catholic, Jeremy."
"That means in the eyes of the Church I'm actually still married to Phil, even though our divorce is legal and final. That means it'd be a sin for us to fuck or for me to suck your dick, any of that."
"What about what we did tonight?"
She sighed and said, "I guess I have to believe that God forgives me for any pleasure I can't resist. I tell myself that cunnilingus isn't really sex because there's no real penetration."
"Penetration? You penetrate yourself with beer bottles and cans at the club."