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Over the next few years my work took me to more cities than I could remember. They all kind of blended together, except Indianapolis where I stayed at Mrs. Phyllis Carlson's B&B, Charleston, WV where I was Beatrice Bonner's guest and Charleston, SC where my tongue ravished Mrs. Comstock's pussy.

Of course, when I was home in White Plains, I frequently spent the night with Gloria's Glorius Puss in my face.

The company had grown and I'd grown professionally, and according to those women my tongue had grown. Not in length, of course not. But, "Seth, every time I see you, you do the most amazing things to my pussy."

Or

"Seth, I'm not complaining, but it seems like every time you come here, you don't want to take your face out of Beatrice's black bush." That was true.

Everything changed when the company hired a travel agency to handle our travel, our hotels, rental cars, etc.

They had an agent, Brittany Kelleher, dedicated to our company. Six months later, "Seth, the next time you're in New York you need to come ...

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