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"Mrs. Hutman, I've known you too long. I suspect that there's a B&B in Charleston, you'd highly recommend," I laughed.

"DeAndrea Comstock is a dear, and you might even find her exotic. I will warn you, she's almost my age, but for her age, I think she's very attractive. Speaking of attractive, Seth, why don't you find out if your tongue is still attracted to Gloria's Glorious Puss."

I didn't get back to Indianapolis; at least not right away. Six months later, my boss suggested, "Seth, Charleston, West Virginia could use your expertise. They're not following procedures as we expected. A week, maybe two should do it."

Perhaps I was thinking with my cock, not my brain, but I was thinking South Carolina, not West Virginia. I asked Mrs. Hutman to call DeAndrea Comstock to expect me.

It wasn't until I got to the airport and was about to board that I realized my mistake. It was too late to call Mrs. Hutman or Mrs. Comstock.

As soon as I landed, while awaiting my luggage, I called Mrs. Hutman, explaining my mistake. "Seth, maybe this is your lucky day. There's a B&B owned by Beatrice Bonner, a sweet, little old lady. I've met her at a few conventions. She'll open her home to you, and once I tell her about how talented you are, I'm sure she'll open her legs," Mrs. Hutman giggled. "I'll call her to expect you. Here's her address."

I received the shock of my life when Mrs. Bonner open the door for me. Mrs. Bonner appeared to be in her late sixties, maybe seventy; like Mrs. Carlson her hair was grey. She was tall and thin, but she was black. Growing up on Long Island I'd been around black people all my life. It was no big deal, but I'd never dated a black girl; never thought of dating a black girl, and here was Mrs. Bonner expecting me to fuck her and if Mrs. Hutman told her everything, to eat her, too.

I smiled politely. "Gloria told me you were young, but I didn't expect a boy. Ever since she called, I've been looking forward to having a man share my bed. I hope she wasn't exaggerating about your talented tongue work. Come this way."

Now, there was no doubt that Mrs. Bonner expected me to eat her. "I suppose after your flight you'd like to take a shower. Not only is this a bed and breakfast, but if I do say so myself, I have years and years of practice washing a man's back, although it has been decades," she laughed.

She wasn't joking. I'd no sooner undressed and jumped in the shower than Mrs. Bonner was right behind me. I couldn't help but notice: saggy tits, wrinkled stomach and thighs and like the hair on her head and like Mrs. Carlson, a grey bush which stood out against her dark skin.

She didn't wash my back. Instead, she got on her knees. "Seth, I've had three husbands, a number of lovers and seven children, all boys. I've seen a lot of cocks in my day, but never one like this." Using the soap, she was washing it; getting it all soapy.

I wasn't sure if she meant a white one or and I'm not bragging; Mrs. Hutman and Mrs. Carlson both told me I had a big one. Maybe, Mrs. Bonner thought I had a big one, too.

Of course, it didn't take much to get me hard. "Now, that's what I call a cock. I'm going to have so much fun with it, but Gloria said you had a thing for pussy. I won't make you wait, too long."

Once she rinsed off my erect cock, and kissed it all over, Mrs. Bonner got off her knees, stood back and washed her pussy. "I'm sure you want it nice and clean," she giggled. "I'll be waiting in bed. My pussy is aching to meet your tongue. Hurry up and finish."

When I walked out of the bathroom, Mrs. Bonner was lying on top of the bed, legs spread; her bush like a beacon.

I have to admit, I didn't hesitate. I was curious. Was Mrs. Bonner's black pussy as tasty as Mrs. Hutman and Mrs. Carlson's?

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