I got to Mona’s house at 6:30 Wednesday and found that her homemade dinner was running late. She had been delayed at work and got home later than planned. It was no big problem, she wasn’t making anything elaborate. I helped out in the kitchen and we were sitting down to eat by 7:30. The wine, a bottle of burgundy, was more to my liking this time. It was nearly eight o’clock when we finished dinner. Mona said we should just leave the dishes and go to the living room with our wine. Sounded good to me. We sat on the couch, drank a little, and soon started kissing. After a few minutes she pulled back and said she wanted to freshen up. It had been hot at work… she had raced home… cooked dinner… she felt like she needed to get cleaned up a bit. Fine with me.
I watched her go towards the hallway bathroom. She was wearing a black skirt, beige sweater, and heels. It struck me that she always looked good. Even on that long drive to Louisville in her Camaro last year she looked good. Part of it was natural, but part of it was attention to detail. I heard the shower go on and figured she might be a while. I turned on the little TV perched on a shelf in the living room. Little House on the Prairie—hmmm, no. Some drama show about a broken family on another channel--- keep lookin’. That’s My Mama on the other station—I don’t think so. Wednesday night wasn’t good for TV I guess. No Sanford & Son… no Odd Couple…no Bob Newhart. Oh well. I shut it off. I looked for something to read but there weren’t any books in the room. Some magazines were on the cocktail table. Vogue had a cover photo of Bianca Jagger. Might be something worth reading. I flipped through it and it was mostly ads. Pretty ads, but nothing to hold my interest for long. An out-of-date TV Guide with a story about a young actor, Michael Douglas, in a show with Karl Malden. I read enough to know he wasn’t the son of Mike Douglas the talk show host—he was Kirk’s boy. Hell, the show wasn’t even on yet.
Finally, about a half hour after she disappeared, Mona came back in the living room. She was wearing the short, blue, satin robe she had worn back in Louisville that Saturday morning. It had given me a hard-on back then and it hadn't lost any of its magical powers in the intervening months. It just barely covered her ass. She came up to me, leaned over, and gave me a kiss.
“Sorry that took so long, sweetie… I feel a thousand times better though,” she said.
“Good. You smell great, that’s for sure… and you look even better,” I said.
“Thanks sweetie. Let’s not stay out here, OK?” she said.
And off we went to her bedroom. Just like Sunday night it was clean and clutter-free. A couple of nightlights plugged in the wall gave it a warm glow. The bed was turned down and looked very inviting. We stood and kissed standing next to the bed. I had her sit on the edge with her bare feet on the carpeted floor. I gathered up all four pillows and piled them behind her back. I slid the robe out from under her so she wasn’t sitting on it, pulled the belt loose, and opened it. She was wearing dark colored lace panties but no bra. I got on the floor in front of her and slid the panties off, tossing them on the bed as she reclined into the pillows. I spread her knees apart with both hands, then I moved closer and put my finger tips on both sides of the center line of her thick, dark bush.
It strikes me that there could be young men reading this who have been engaging in cunnilingus for over a decade and have never confronted anything resembling a natural pussy. Now I don’t want to sound like the old guy who talks about having to walk five miles to and from school, uphill both ways, every day, but eating pussy is a lot better with today’s feminine grooming styles. I’m sure that Mona, and millions of other girls back then, used scissors to make sure they didn’t have stray pubic hairs peeking out from their bikini bottoms in the summer. But there wasn’t much trimming done beyond that. In fact, if I had removed Mona’s lacy undies and found a smooth bald pussy I would have been shocked and probably would’ve asked her what was wrong. Even the landing strip look wasn’t around when I was “dating” Mona. So, when I say I put my fingers in the center of her thick, dark bush I mean I was on a search mission for the treasure I knew was there, but well hidden.
I parted her lips with my fingers and ran my tongue along both sides of her opening. I tongue-teased her from south to north and back again. Over and over again. I could taste her juices and knew she was warming up to my advances. It was the first time I had eaten her and I was taking my good, sweet time. I knew from Sunday night that she liked rough fucking and she could handle a helluva lot of cock pounding, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like to have some oral attention too.
I sucked on her outer lips until they were full, crimson, and swollen. I slid the middle finger of my right hand in, palm up so I could curl it and work it along the front wall inside her warmth. With a finger in her I concentrated my lips and tongue on the north end of her opening. All along Mona had let me know how things were working out with her moans and groans and sighs and gasps. When I got on her hot button with my mouth she pulled her knees back towards her head. With my left hand I pressed her right knee even further back. I pulled my finger out and then went right back in with two fingers, twisting inside of her as I lapped, sucked, and nibbled at her just above where my fingers were buried inside her. She put her right hand on top of my left and put her left hand in my hair—pulling me into her. She was panting, and begging for hard cock, but I wasn’t about to stop eating her.
Then I felt a wave go through her. It was like she had given herself over to something. A shudder, and then her hand let go of my hair and I lightened the tongue and mouth pressure while still working my fingers in and out of her—twisting in her with three fingers as far as I could go now. Then her hips bucked a bit, she pushed at my hand and I pulled my fingers out of her wet cunt.
I pulled myself up onto the bed next to her and flopped on my back. I was hard from it all. She rolled over against me and put her hand on my chest.
“Fuck. I never get off from that. Damn.”
“You liked it?” I said.
“Good,” I said.
My erection was starting to go away. I didn’t think that was a good idea. I got up and collected two of the pillows and put one on top of the other a foot or so from the edge of the bed. Then I got Mona off her side and put her face down with the pillows under her tummy. She figured out where it was going and raised up a bit on her knees. I moved her a bit to make sure her pussy was reachable with me standing next to the bed. She put her hands on the bed and raised up a bit. I reached forward and took her right wrist and pulled it behind her back. I did the same with her left. Then I pinned both wrists against the small of her back with one hand while I grabbed her panties off the bed. Using the panties as a short rope I bound her wrists tightly together.
This maneuver had caused me to reacquire my hard-on and I quickly buried that dick into her pussy. In one stroke my balls were up against that thick, natural bush.
I pushed down on her lower back to tilt everything just right and then I flat-out jack-hammered that hot snatch.