When I dated, even going back to high school, I knew instinctively when a girl was out of my league and didn't even bother to look at her twice and she didn't look at me once.
Now, it seemed like women looked at me different. There were those one-night stands. Of course, there were Lisa and Cilla who were perfect examples of what I'd fallen into. They were definitely not one-stands. Lisa with her mouth and Cilla with her pussy or as she preferred to call it, her cat.
I was doing stories throughout the Metropolitan Area and sometimes assignments took me out of town. Three or four times a year the magazine did a feature on an American city. Sometimes these were great assignments: like Austin, Nashville, New Orleans. Other times, not so much: Bismarck, North Dakota in January. I didn't do any until Bob Piotrowski, the editor and owner of the magazine, sent me to Charleston, South Carolina.
Let me let you in on a little secret. It didn't take long to discover that genteel Southern ladies are anything but genteel nor ladies in private. Although I'd been on various out-of-town assignments for the magazine numerous times, at thirty-four years old, this was my first time south of the Mason-Dixon Line, except for Spring Break one year in Ft. Lauderdale when I was in college. I grew up in the Boston suburbs; my accent must have sounded like a foreign language to the Charlestonians.
With my new status as a star reporter, the magazine booked me into Charleston's finest hotel. At check-in, a woman came out from one of the offices, "Mr. Swenson, I'm Merry Lynn Murchison, Vice President of Customer Services, we're honored that a writer of your stature has chosen our hotel. Welcome to Charleston."
"Thank you, Ms. Murchison."
"Let me personally show you to your room. A bellboy will take your bags."
In the elevator we made small talk. I noticed that the blouse under her business suit had the two top buttons unbuttoned, showing a hint of deep cleavage. She unlocked the door to my room, a suite. "I've upgraded you; it's the least we can do. Living room, bath, bedroom."
"It's beautiful. Thank you." I noticed the king-size four poster bed with a canopy. "Wow, that's fantastic."
"You're more than welcome, Mr. Swenson. Here's my card, please don't hesitate to call me day or night if you find anything unsatisfactory."
"I will. Thank you, and Ms. Murchison, it's Kaz. My father was Mr. Swenson."
"Okay, Kaz, and I'm Merry Lynn."
After the bellboy delivered my bags, I unpacked. I'd be here a week. The hotel was in the center of the city; I walked around to get a feel for the vibes. It was truly beautiful with lovely parks and squares.
After a quiet dinner in my room, I started writing some notes on my laptop. I'd just closed my laptop when there was a knock at my door.
It was Merry Lynn Murchison holding a bottle of Scotch. "Mr. Swenson, ummm, Kaz, I thought I'd make sure you were completely satisfied."
"How thoughtful of you." I noticed that her blazer was gone, and another button on her blouse open; revealing even more cleavage. "Please come in. You'll join me?"
"That's very kind of you." We sat on the couch, and exchanged small talk while we sipped our drinks.
At least for a while. "Kaz, let me be blunt. I'm a direct descendant of General Wade Hampton, one of the South's finest officers. He was famous for his cavalry charges."
"Of course, I've heard of him."
"Then you know that he went after what he wanted. Kaz, I'm just like him. I've been married twenty-five years, and if you'll pardon my French, ten years ago my husband decided he had no interest in my pussy."
I was shocked by her blunt language. "I can't imagine why. You're a beautiful woman." She was. Perhaps in her mid-fifties, still fit; blonde, petite and of course there was that deep cleavage.
"Thank you. It seems that my husband had no interest in my, again pardon my French, pussy, but not the pussies of numerous ladies in Charleston. Kaz, I hope I might interest you in my pussy." Merry Lynn began to undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse.
"I don't know what to say."
"You could say, Merry Lynn, I'd love to show your pussy the attention it deserves."
"Ummmm."
"I know from your Amsterdam story that you're very familiar with pussy. I hope my age is not a deal breaker." My relationship with Anki did not make the story, although I mentioned the House called Mama's. She took me by the hand and led me to my suite's bedroom, I didn't resist and within minutes her bra was off and we were laying down.
"Your tits are lovely." Pure, pure white with the pinkest nipples you ever saw. And they were big, not big like 44DDD. They looked nothing like I imagined fifty plus year old tits might look like.
"I'd like you to enjoy them." She rolled on top of me, and they were in my face. "But you know, I'd like you to enjoy more than my titties." Her hand was busy undoing my belt and lowering my zipper.
I kissed, licked and sucked those beauties; moving from one to the other. "Kaz, why don't we get undressed? I'm so ready for more."
Now, under the covers, I continued playing with her tits, and her hand was stroking my cock. "Merry Lynn, you did say you'd like me to show some interest in your pussy, didn't you?" I said as my hand slid between her legs.
"I did. Kaz, it's all yours, but I have to tell you that in that article you wrote, there seemed to be a lot of pussy eating. Perhaps I can provide you an incentive to eat my pussy." She slid under the covers.
It wasn't the best blowjob I'd had, but Merry Lynn did not lack for effort. Twenty minutes later I encouraged her to change places. "I have a better idea." She kept my cock in her mouth, but instead of kneeling between my legs, Merry Lynn moved so that her pussy was right over my face, and the covers were off.
I'm not sure what the opposite of a bird's eye view is. Perhaps worm's eye view. Anyhow, her very impressive bush was right in my face. It was light brown and thick.
I didn't waste any time. My tongue found her open pussy. Merry Lynn's husband may not have found it of interest but I certainly did. More than just of interest.
For a woman who apparently had been ignored for a decade, she knew how to move that pussy. It was only a few minutes before her clitoris was playing with my tongue; not the other way round.
69 was delightful.
That wasn't her only skill. Her lips knew how to NOT make me cum, even though she bobbed up and down on my cock faster and faster, the more my tongue and her clitoris were engaged the faster she bobbed up and down.
Merry Lynn came more than once. I didn't but she was ready to remedy that. "Kaz, I'm certain that your cock is interested in my pussy. I need you to fuck me." She didn't say ‘pardon my French.' In fact, I never heard her say it again.
As I said about Anki, and I'll say it again, fucking must be like riding a bike. "Merry Lynn, I have some lube in my bag that might make it easier for both of us.
She may not have gotten laid in a decade but you'd never know it by the way she fucked me. Her tiny, still firm, bubble butt bounced off the bed trying to take more and more of my cock, which was already in as far as it was going to go.
We banged each other hard, and she was loud. We fell asleep in each other's arms.
I awoke at 6, took a piss and came back to bed where Merry Lynn was just waking up. "Kaz, you showed more interest in my pussy last night than my husband has in the last ten years."
"Your husband must have forgotten how tasty your pussy is and how good a fuck you are."
"How sweet of you. Kaz, if I were to wash it good, could I interest you in pussy for breakfast?"
I laughed. "After last night, even if you didn't wash it, I'd be interested in your pussy for breakfast."
"Hold that thought. I'll be back in a minute."
Can there anything be better than sweet pussy for breakfast? "Kaz, when a southern lady offers her goodies to her lover, she wants it to be as enticing as possible. And clean; nobody wants a dirty, smelly pussy."
She was back in bed; actually, on top of the bed. "Does my pussy entice you?"
"Goodies? I like that. Sounds like candy, and if I recall last night, your goodies are just as sweet." I went down on her.
Later, the fucking was every bit as good as last night.
"My God Kaz, that was fabulous, but look at the time? It's 8:20. I'm supposed to be at work at 8."
"I suggest that you have a perfect excuse: you were making certain one of your valued customers was satisfied. That is your job, isn't it?"
She laughed. "I was satisfied, how about you?"
"No doubt. Sadly, I neglected these beauties this morning," I said as I kissed her tits.
"Ummmm, I have one request."
"After what you've done to me and for me, anything."
"When I saw your magazine's reservation, I couldn't help but tell my friends and co-workers."
"It's no secret that I'm here doing a story on Charleston."
"Yes, but they implored me to suggest that I offer you some of our Southern hospitality."
"By Southern hospitality; you mean Goodies? Well, you certainly did."
"They'd also like to offer you their Southern hospitality. You should sample more than one of our genteel ladies," she laughed. "I'll introduce you to one in the hotel bar tonight. 6PM?"
I spent the day interviewing city officials, people on the street and children at school. I finished shortly after 3. Enough time for a shower, brief nap and introduction to another not so genteel Southern belle.
TO BE CONTINUED
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