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Like I said, Erie was a disaster.

The editor, Jonathan Albright, must have thought it was a joke that a girl wanted to be a reporter. Oh, he let me write. He let me write obituaries. He let me report on goings on at the local garden club. I learned more about hydrangeas and geraniums than I thought I'd ever care to know.

But you want to know about my love life.

For the first few months there was nothing to talk about.

Except for one weekend. Out of the blue on a Thursday afternoon, "I hope you don't have any plans this weekend?"

"Professor Mann?"

"I'll be driving through Erie and I thought maybe we could get together."

My panties were already damp. "When you say get together, you mean get together?" I laughed.

"I was hoping."

It was the 50's; there was no GPS. I gave him directions to my apartment.

"I should get to Erie about 5 Friday afternoon."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you. It's been a long time." It had been two months. Two months since I'd been fucked, but who's counting?

I didn't get fucked, at least not right away.

I went shopping for something sexy. Friday afternoon, I left the newsroom early and took a long hot bath. Like I said, back then women didn't do a lot of grooming, but I made sure my legs and especially my thighs were smooth. Professor Mann demonstrated that he had a thing for my pussy; I didn't want his cheeks to get chafed on my thighs.

With a pair of scissors, I did a little trimming, too. Not much, it just wasn't done back then.

Professor Mann wasn't at my apartment more than fifteen minutes before we were naked and in bed. Remember, he was fifty-three and I was twenty-two.

He spent a few minutes on my titties, then started kissing me lower and lower. "Holly, this is what I was looking forward to." He was between my legs which seemed to have spread themselves involuntarily.

I giggled, "I remember how much you liked it."

Maybe because it had been a long time; two months, or maybe it was that Professor Mann really had been looking forward to eating me, but it was the most wonderful evening I could remember.

I begged for his cock. I begged for him to fuck me. I begged for him to let me suck it. He kept eating. Two, three, maybe four orgasms. Finally, I pushed him off me and my mouth was all over that cock.

I'm sure I'd given him better blowjobs. I'm sure I'd given Rocco Gianelli better blowjobs, but I'd never given a more enthusiastic blowjob. I went wild on his cock.

It wasn't until late Friday night that we fucked. I was just as enthusiastic on my back as I'd been on my knees.

We slept in each other's arms.

I was up early while Professor Mann slept. I remembered, with a smile on my face last night. I especially remembered the way he ate me. I took a shower, making sure my pussy was clean. I'm sure by now he knew he had an open invitation, but I wanted my pussy to be welcoming. Welcoming

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