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It was the mid-sixties and I was going steady with Bobby Joe. We were a couple and I let him do some things but not everything. After all, we were still in high school, and like lots of girls back then, I was saving myself for marriage. Marriage to Bobby Joe, My mother warned me, "Lurleen, if Bobby Joe's getting the milk, he's not buying the cow."

We got married right after high school. We both worked at the local grocery store. My father had a hunting cabin in the north 40. To you city folk that means 40 acres on the north side of our property. My daddy had a lot of land and we had a herd of milking cows. In addition to working at the grocery store, I was responsible for milking them. I'd been milking them for years.

That's where we spent our honeymoon. I thought Bobby Joe was the most amazing lover. Of course, I had nothing to compare. One thing that I learned later in life, Bobby Joe sure knew how to eat pussy. Well, at least my pussy. When his tongue was doing me, I'd have orgasm after orgasm and over and over again Bobby Joe would mumble, "I love Lurleen's pussy. I love eating Lurleen's pussy."

Bobby Joe and I had been "going steady" since eighth grade. I had no reason to think he ever cheated on me. He was just a natural pussy eater. He just knew where his tongue belonged.

As for the other parts of sex. I loved fucking after Bobby Joe ate my pussy. I'd beg him to fuck me after his tongue made me cum. Then when he started to get on top of me, I'd beg him, "Bobby Joe, please don't stop. Eat me some more." It sounds confusing, but you girls know what I mean.

As for blowjobs: I could take them or leave them, and thankfully, Bobby Joe didn't push it. "Baby, all I've thought about all day was eating your pussy. Ten, fifteen minutes later, I'd hear him mumbling, "I love Lurleen's pussy. I love eating Lurleen's pussy."

Back in the sixties women didn't do much grooming down there. I never heard of such a thing. The women's magazines always had articles on fashion, grooming, etc. but nothing on doing anything down there. Of course, in the summer, I'd trim a little closer so no unsightly hair stuck out of the crotch of my swimsuit. But that was it.

Six months after our wedding, Bobby Joe got his draft notice and he was off to Viet Nam. I never saw him again.

It's not what you think. After Viet Nam, he was stationed in Hawai'i. We didn't have enough money for me to fly out there. He met a girl and the next thing I knew I received a certified letter from some lawyer in Honolulu announcing our divorce.

I was distraught for months. Finally, my father sat me down and explained that I needed to find a job to support myself. "Lurleen, working part-time at the super market isn't going to cut it." I could stay in the hunting cabin and milk the cows, but I needed a real job.

Daddy said he'd pay for something like secretarial school. I had no interest in that, but every day on my way to work, I passed the travel agency in town. I'd day dream and night dream about all the places on those posters. Daddy agreed to send me to travel agent school.

I did well and secured a job in Mobile, Alabama which was only twenty miles from daddy's farm. I had Bobby Joe's old pick-up truck and commuted every day. I still wasn't over Bobby Joe and didn't date, but in addition to dreaming about all those fabulous places I booked trips to, I dreamed of the things Bobby Joe's tongue did to my pussy.

Okay, not just dreamed about Bobby Joe's tongue. I masturbated a lot. By a lot, I mean all the time when I was alone in the hunting cabin. "Bobby Joe loves eating Lurleen's pussy, Bobby Joe loves eating Lurleen's pussy," I moaned aloud as I vigorously played with my pussy. Some nights, I didn't get much sleep and my clitoris became so sensitive, I'd cum and cum.

Then I got a break. My travel company was selected to be the exclusive agency for a cruise line which was going to start running trips out of Mobile to the Caribbean. The owner of my company didn't think this was

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