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"Eamon, now that we know each other a little bit, do you want to guess what my first husband called me?" Her hand was already on my cock.

"I have no idea."

"Surely, what I did to you just a few minutes ago gave you a clue. Eamon, my first husband, J. Michael White, of the investment bank of White, White and White, which as you may know is the largest bank of its kind in the world, called me affectionately his little cocksucker."

"That's awful."

"In private, I was pleased that he thought that highly of my talent. I loved it when he told me, ‘Lillian, you're the finest cocksucker a man could ask for.' My panties got wet every time I blew him. When he told me that I gushed. One time, after having too much to drink, he called me that in public. I was appalled and embarrassed. That's why he's my ex-husband. Enough talk."

Lillian went down on me. "Eamon, I'm not wearing any panties; I want my pussy to be like a fountain, dripping down my thighs."

Her ex-husband was wrong; Lillian was no little cocksucker. Magnificent cocksucker or maybe World's Best Cocksucker, but certainly not little. For her age, she had the stamina of one of those swimmers that try to cross the English Channel.

Up and down, up and down. I thought her neck might get sore. It didn't seem to bother her. It wasn't until after midnight that I came.

"Thank you, Eamon," she said as she wiped her mouth with her arm. "Please stay. I'm the kind of woman who when she's getting a cock, wants it all the time."

Lillian wasn't kidding. There was another blowjob in the morning. "Eamon, if you don't have any plans, my home in the Hamptons is lovely at this time of year. I promise you; I'll be your little cocksucker all weekend. Oh, and if I haven't mentioned it, I've had three husbands, although Mr. Windsor hardly counts, and a number of lovers, but I've never encountered a cock as big and thick as yours. I'm going to want it again and again."

Lillian wasn't kidding. Her driver had the smoked glass and noise suppressant window up between the front seats and the back. Lillian spent most of the ride out to Long Island on her knees.

When we got to her estate, Lillian didn't waste a lot of time. "Eamon, I've never had a more enjoyable time on the drive out here. It went much too quickly. Let me take you to bed."

Except for meals, Lillian spent the next two days on her knees. "Eamon, you have the best cock. I hope you see why my ex- called me his little cocksucker. That's what I do."

It was a cock draining weekend. Lillian was insatiable. Much like Olga Semenova. "Eamon, tell me you want me to be your cocksucker again and again. Tell me to be your cum slut."

Over the next few months, we spent weekends in the Hamptons.

I played along. "Lillian, it's been hours. Be my little cocksucker."

There was no hesitation. "Thank you, Eamon. Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmm."

Later, "Lillian, it would be grossly unfair and ungentlemanly of me not to reciprocate."

"No, no, no. Nobody wants to eat almost seventy-year-old pussy." She protested.

"I do."

I did, and Lillian went crazy on my tongue. Then she went crazy on my cock with her mouth. "Lillian, I've been with a few women, but I've never tasted a sweeter pussy."

Among, all the blowjobs she'd given me, the one that followed my pussy eating was by far the best. I made sure I'd eat that pussy again.

"Eamon, whisper in my ear with that lovely accent how sweet my pussy is."

Of course, I did.

"When you tell me that, my pussy gushes. Tell me again."

I did and went down on her. "Lillian, I've never tasted a sweeter, more beautiful pussy."

"Eat me, Eamon. Eat my sweet pussy." She wrapped her legs around my head and held my face in her bush.

For dinner, she took me to the finest restaurants. She dressed like she was going to some kind of ball. One night, around her neck was a gold choker, and on her wrist there was a bejeweled bracelet. On the other hand, most of the women dining were dressed similarly. It was that kind of place. I was wearing an Armani suit.

I think Lillian was showing me off, but maybe not the way she intended. Or maybe it was.

Returning from the ladies' room, "Eamon, it seems that my reputation has followed me out here."

"What do you mean?"

"While in the ladies' room, I overheard those two women over there." She pointed to a table where three women were dining. "They suggested that the young man I was with had to have something big and special in his pants."

I blushed.

She took my hand, "Eamon, they're not wrong; my panties are wet just thinking about it. If I wasn't a lady, I'd get on my knees under the table. But those women are not as pure as the new fallen snow."

"What do you mean?"

"The woman in pink has a pussy that has seen more traffic than Grand Central Station at rush hour. Her husband is totally oblivious."

I laughed.

"Now, her friend with the print dress, well, I'm not one to gossip."

Yes, she was.

She continued, "but she is as familiar with that pussy as all those cocks."

I had to admit that was indeed juicy gossip; true or not.

"As for the young woman with the blue dress. She's the daughter of the woman in pink, and rumor has it that her pussy has the same affinity for cock as her mother's."

I took a second look. The young woman in blue was very attractive and close to my age.

"Eamon, as much as I enjoy your cock, I'd bet that you'd just love to fuck that young woman. Her name is Mum."

"Mum?"

"Ya' know like the flower. And if the gossip is true, unlike a lot of women her age, she's a real blonde. I can fix you up with her if you like. Now, Enzo, don't get any ideas. I'd like your cock all to myself, but at your age, I'm sure that sooner rather than later, you'll tire of this old lady. Besides, I'm sure you need a good fucking."

"I-I-I . . . what I'd like to do is take you home and spend the night with my face in your tasty pussy."

"Oh Eamon, how am I ever going to enjoy dinner thinking of your tongue? But let me tell you more about that girl, Mum. Her husband's family owns one of the New York sports teams. He can't pass a skirt without wanting to fuck it. Even someone like me."

"You?"

"Oh, don't be surprise. You know what I bring to the party. Her husband is almost my age. I did him; did him in my own special way before that girl was born. He thinks he's god's gift. He's not, but he is richer than god."

She reached under the table and put her hand on my crotch, and whispered in my ear, "I want to be your little cocksucker all night."

I removed her hand. Only because of where we were. "Remember what I promised you," I smiled.

Lillian continued. "Anyhow, Mum knows all about her husband's affairs and secretly keeps an apartment in Manhattan. From what I understand, and it's just rumor mind you; she's replaced the mattress three times in the last few years?"

I looked at her quizzically.

"Eamon, she wore those mattresses out. Now, I'll call her this week and arrange for you to see her. I can't fuck like that anymore. But you know what I can do." She rubbed my crotch again.

When we got back to her Hampton mansion, "Lillian, I wasn't kidding. I've been thinking of your pussy all evening. Don't deny me." It wasn't all night but Lillian's orgasms had her climbing the walls.

It was a month before my "date" with Mum. In the meantime, I was virtually living with Lillian; either in her Manhattan brownstone or her Hamptons mansion.

I'd gained her trust. It was easy. "Lillian, it's been since this morning since I've tasted your pussy."

"Eamon, you know the way to my heart, but you know what I'm in the mood for, What I'm always in the mood for." She got on her knees.

"Thank you, Eamon." That mouth got busy. That was her thing; Lillian always thanked me before she started. Lillian always thanked me when she finished.

I insisted that I thank her, although she still couldn't understand why I'd want to: "Lillian, you'll have to believe me; you have the tastiest pussy."

In her dressing room, Lillian had a safe. It wasn't an ordinary safe. It was five feet tall and weighed a couple of tons. Lillian kept it open.

One day while she was out, I took a look. Necklaces, broaches, rings, bracelets, watches. Dozens. She'd never missed a few pieces, would she?

On the bottom shelf, far in the back. So far back that I had to get on my knees; a position Lillian was well acquainted with, was a bag. A woman's purse. Nothing special about it, except it was filled with gold coins. She'd never miss them, would she? She may not have even known they were there.

I warned myself not to get greedy. I reminded myself how much money I had in those Swiss bank accounts.

When I could, I took a piece of jewelry or a gold coin. I deposited them in a safe deposit box in a near-by bank. I had an idea about disposing of them.

The answer was my artist friend, Pierre Choiniere in Paris.

Things fell into my lap.

One day Lillian says to me, "Eamon, are you ready for that date with Mum?"

"Are you sure? I know how much you like . . ."

"Being your little cocksucker? I do, but you need someone your own age. I had lunch with her the other day, and she is anxious to meet you."

"Oh?"

"Eamon, she's anxious to meet you because I told her all about this." She kissed my cockhead. "I told her that you had a thing for my old pussy, and I could only imagine what you'd do to her young pussy."

"I'm going to have to up my game, but not right now." I pushed her head down. Lillian's mouth was a national treasure as always.

Mum Decker was expecting my call. "Did you have something in mind?" She asked.

"How about dinner?"

"That sounds like a good way to get to know each other. Do you have a restaurant in mind?"

Remember I knew that her family owned one of the New York sports teams, and were worth billions. I mean I couldn't take her to McDonald's. "I know a quiet romantic place just off the Champs Elysees. The food is fabulous."

"Paris? I love Paris."

TO BE CONTINUED

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