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for his cock, but hopefully, for his tongue.

It apparently was. He had my pussy for breakfast. He had a big breakfast. He ate and ate. Later we fucked. He couldn't get enough of my pussy and fucked me hard.

That's how Saturday went and Sunday morning. Fucking, sucking, but mostly eating.

Before he left, Professor Mann confided in me. "Holly, I'm not driving through Erie. I drove to Erie for some of this." He rubbed his face in my thick, black bush.

"You mean you drove all the way from Syracuse just to eat me?" I was thrilled.

"It's all I've thought about since you left."

"Professor, if you ever get that thought again, just call me." I pushed his head back down.

That was the extent of my love life until . . .

Mr. Albright, my editor, who might have been seventy gave me an assignment, "Hey Holly, here's one you might enjoy. Every year on Columbus Day, the Italian-American Club throws a big party and they award prizes for the best sauce, cannoli, meatballs, sausage, etc. Want to cover it?"

"Sure." I was disappointed. This was the kind of assignment like the garden club that Mr. Albright would never give one of the male reporters.

At the moment, I wasn't thinking of Rocco Gianelli's Italian sausage and how I'd become addicted to it while I was in school. I handled the assignment professionally, but recalled the joyful Italian festivals my parents took me to when I was a kid. I had a smile on my face the whole time, even as I took notes.

The president of the Italian-American Club, Mr. Matteo Marino, insisted on showing me around; introducing me to people. With my last name, I was treated like family.

Matty took me by the arm and guided me through the festival. I have to admit he was very suave. He was suave for a man in his fifties; kinda' like Professor Mann. No one back then used the words ‘hitting on me.' But Mr. Marino was hitting on me. I enjoyed the attention, and I started to think of the things that Professor Mann did to me; and I did to him. It had been over three months since he'd come to Erie. Come to Erie to see me. Come to Erie to eat my pussy.

Mr. Marino insisted I sample everything. I did. When we got to the section where the desserts were, "Holly, you just have to try one of Mrs. De Lorenzo's cannoli."

I started to bite into it. "Oh Holly, I thought a girl like you would know how a cannoli is supposed to be eaten." I was confused. Mr. Marino put one end in his mouth, smiled. He put it in his mouth like he was sucking a cock.

"Oh Matty, a lady would never eat a cannoli like that," I giggled.

"Of course not, at least not in public, but perhaps in private you might enjoy a big cannoli."

You might think that was the dumbest, silliest, most obvious line ever. It was.

"Mr. Marino, do you know where a girl might find a big cannoli?" I looked around, pretending to search.

Now, he was teasing me and I was playing along. "You haven't lived yet until you've tried my Italian sausage."

"Matty, I like sweet sausage, but I think a girl could get used to a long, fat hot Italian sausage," I laughed.

He didn't live too far away. We walked. My panties were more than damp. After Professor Mann, I wasn't hesitant about sleeping with a man older than my father.

We were no sooner in his home than were kissing with our tongues, and our hands were everywhere.

Soon I was on my knees, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, pulling down his zipper. There was a huge bulge in his boxers. I pulled them down. "Oh, Matteo is this all for me?"

"I promised you some Italian sausage," he smiled down at me. He was already getting hard.

I licked his circumcised cockhead. "Definitely sweet sausage," I giggled.

"Holly, I think you have a special talent for making sweet sausage hot."

That's when I got serious and started to suck. I was bobbing up and down on Matteo's cock.

He was still having fun with me. "You do know how to eat a cannoli."

For a few more minutes, I continued. Then, "I hate to interrupt a girl when she's having so much fun, but my knees are getting wobbly. Let me take you to bed."

Reluctantly, I took his cock out of my mouth. You have to understand, it had been over three months since Professor Mann came to visit. Over three months since the last time I had cock. And now to have Matteo Marino's cock in my mouth. I didn't mention that it was long and fat and hard. I think, and ladies you can correct me if I'm wrong, almost perfect. His cock would have been perfect if it had been attached to a twenty-something.

I was disappointed, but a few minutes after we got in bed I was ecstatic. Before I knew it, Matteo was between my legs, "Holly, that's the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen."

I could not have spread my legs any wider for him.

"Thank you, I'm going to enjoy it so much."

I may have been young, but I certainly wasn't naïve. When Matty said he was going to enjoy my pussy, I knew he meant enjoy eating it.

I wasn't wrong and that brings me to the "ecstatic" part. Old, and to me he was old, Matteo Marino was an amazing pussy eater, at least my pussy. It wasn't just his stamina; I mean he ate and ate. He just knew how to eat. A glutton and a talented one at that. His tongue knew when to play with my clitoris and when to let me revel in my orgasm (orgasms, plural). That's when he licked the juices from my slit and hole.

That's when he mumbled, "Holly, not only is your pussy beautiful; it's the sweetest pussy I've ever tasted. I'd love to eat it some more."

"Yes, Matteo, oh yes. Your tongue, oh your tongue. My pussy is yours. Please."

We didn't fuck until late that night. Matteo ate and ate until I begged, no demanded, he let me get back to sucking his long, fat, very hard cock. "Hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm, Matteo, I've never enjoyed sucking a cock as much as I'm enjoying yours. I think a girl deserves a reward for her efforts." I went back to sucking until Matteo came in my mouth.

When we did fuck, nothing stretched my pussy like Matty's fat cock. Long and fat, I moaned with delight at each thrust. I had a huge smile on my face as he banged my pussy. "Keep giving it to me, Matty. You're so good to my pussy."

In the morning, I left his bed early while he slept. I had to write my story.

The festival was on-going all weekend. I left him a note with my phone number. "Matteo, thank you for a wonderful night. I'd love to sample the Italian sausage at the festival again. Call me if you'd like to guide me to the best sausage. And I need more practice learning to eat a cannoli the right way."

Matteo did call me, and he did guide me to the best Italian sausage. You're probably not surprised that I had that sausage while on my knees, and on my back.

Don't think it was a one-way street. "Holly, like I said last night, you have the best tasting pussy. I can't get enough."

"It's all yours, Matteo. My pussy loves your tongue."

It was a wonderful weekend. Perhaps, Erie wasn't the disaster it started out to be. On the other hand, our age difference made any serious relationship highly questionable.

There was no question about the relationship between Matty's tongue and my pussy. "I love eating it, Holly. Between two wives and a number of lovers, I've never tasted a sweeter pussy."

Just like with Professor Mann, a few times over the next few months he came while he was eating me. I thought that was the greatest thing.

I'd never fucked except when I was on my back. Matteo taught me to ride his cock. He liked playing with my tits when we fucked that way.

I'd only been eaten while I was on my back. Matteo taught me to ride his face. I liked that. "I like the view," he laughed as I knelt over his face.

I lowered myself. "And the taste," I giggled.

I was content, and then I wasn't. In fact, I was pissed.

TO BE CONTINUED

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