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it.”

“Keep giving it to me, Joe. Fuck my white girl pussy, fuck it good.” Oh, he did. Like I said, he kept going and going.”

“Any other way you want it, girl?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. I mean, he was so small, if I got on top, I might have crushed him. As for fucking me like a dog, once in a while Jackson and I did it like that, but I didn’t like the idea of even Jackson seeing my big ass.

“Joe, have you ever tasted white pussy?

“Oh girl, you don’t have to ask twice.”

And just like that Joe’s cock was out of my pussy and his tongue was in there. Moments later that tongue was doing my special spot and I was in orgasmic heaven.

Remember I said that Joe could fuck and fuck? He ate the same way.

I could have flown back to Gulfport without a plane; that’s how good Joe’s tongue was to me.

It was on our third trip to Gulfport that I struck gold. Marcus was 6’8” tall and weighed close to 300 lb. He put all those 300 lb. behind every thrust. “oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, Marcus, fuck Cindy Lou’s white girl pussy just like that.”

Like Joe, he could keep going and going. Unlike Joe, he had a cock that rivaled those colored boys in San Diego: more than seven inches of thick black meat. “Marcus, you make my goodies feel so good; there’s been nothing like your cock, but my mouth and lips want to feel the same way, please.”

He wasn’t stupid.

From then on, over the next five years, I’d let Marcus know I was coming. I was married to an average white boy Junior Jensen in Gulfport with a bland sex life, and I had a fabulous colored lover in New Orleans. “Cindy Lou, I think your pussy gets tastier and tastier every time I see you.”

“You can sweet talk me all you want, Marcus, but you know my white girl goodies are all yours. My goodies loves your tongue, keep eating Marcus, oh yeah keep eating.”

The same weekend that I met Marcus, Roberta Lee was asked to dance by Henri Robataille. He was Haitian. He was also addicted to her blonde goodies. Roberta Lee admitted that when a man got her into the right mood, she couldn’t help herself; she reverted to the language that Professor Andrew Hoffman taught her.

Henri got her in that kind of mood all the time. “Like that Henri, fuck my white girl cunt; fuck it hard. I’m not fragile. Make me your bitch.”

“You want it in your mouth, too, don’t you Roberta Lee?”

“Yes, oh yes, just not right now. I promise, I’ll be your cocksucking bitch, but right now fuck my white girl cunt. Fuck my cunt good.” Like me, for the next five years, Roberta Lee was married to Bobby Joe Bonner in Gulfport and was the cocksucking bitch of Henri Robataille in New Orleans.

You would think that would be enough for two not so innocent, demur white, married, daughters of the south; Mississippi girls.

It wasn’t.

Shortly after the New Year, two years after we’d married, when it’s the coldest in Mississippi, Roberta Lee and I made some excuse to our husbands and flew to San Diego. There I met Jackson and Roberta Lee met Andrew.

The four of us were going to spend two weeks in La Jolla. Of course, Mitchell had taken me there when we first started seeing each other. I knew what to expect. Roberta Lee did not; I thought I’d surprise her. With her body, I knew men would gawk at her; she’d like that.

It worked out great for me. Jackson and I rarely left the motel room as we renewed acquaintances. I on my back or on my knees. Jackson frequently on his knees as I enjoyed the view of the ocean and the top of his head. “Goldilocks hasn’t forgotten Cindy Lou’s goodies, has he?” I giggled.

“Her delicious goodies,” he mumbled with his tongue probing my special spot.

As for Roberta Lee and Andrew. I could hear them in the room next door. It was very entertaining, but I warned Jackson if he ever called me his cunt, I was gone and I’d never coming back. “How about sweetie?” His tongue started. I could live happily with sweetie.

Roberta Lee didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t until the three of finally got her to the nude beach that I understood.

The beach wasn’t too crowded. There were white couples, black couples, a few couples like us. I no longer worried about being seen naked. I reveled in it. Not because men were staring at my 38DDs, it was because women were staring at what was dangling between Jackson’s legs, and those women knew I was the lucky girl. “Yes, ladies, that cock is going to spend the next two weeks entertaining my goodies and my mouth.” I said mostly to myself.

It was the first time I’d seen Roberta Lee naked since our high school days after physical education class in the communal shower. I was stunned. Stunned by the tattoo just above her pubic hair.

Remember back then only sailors who got drunk in some foreign port had tattoos. Andrew made her get a tattoo that read CSA, with a rebel flag on each side, right above the line of her gorgeous blonde bush.

“Roberta Lee, what were you thinking?”

She pulled me aside. “Cindy Lou, I know what you do with Jackson, and I’m sure you know what I do with Andrew. I know you’ve had his cock, and we both know it’s resistible and he said you have the most delicious goodies.”

I blushed. I mean we didn’t have many secrets but still.

“Cindy Lou, you might think it stands for Confederate States of America, and I’m proud to be a daughter of the Confederacy, but the truth is CSA stands for Cocksucker for Andrew.”

My mouth was wide open. Not that I didn’t know, it’s just I didn’t think Roberta Lee would say it out loud or advertise, and what did Bobby Joe think? “I’m sure you knew. In fact, Andrew told me that your big cunt was the best he’s ever fucked. His words, not mine, Cindy Lou.”

I didn’t know whether I should be pleased or embarrassed that he’d told her, or mad that he told her.

“You know, when I’m with him, it doesn’t bother me when he uses the word cunt. I wouldn’t tolerate it from anyone else, not even Bobby Joe, but you’ve had his cock. You know. I’d do anything for it.”

I looked toward the water. Jackson and Andrew were in ankle-deep water chatting. Andrew called to Roberta Lee; we both joined them. “Roberta Lee, let’s take a walk along the beach, I want to show you off.

“Oh Andrew, let’s go back to the room; you know what I want.”

“We’ll walk down to the point and back and then you can have it. Do you want to tell Jackson and Cindy Lou what you want.”

Even Roberta Lee blushed, but she pointed to her tattoo.

After they walked away, with Jackson staring at her ass. He asked me what that was all about. I explained what Roberta Lee’s tattoo meant. “Maybe we should go back to the room, and you can show me again how much you’ve missed me,” he laughed.

“Jackson, don’t be so circumspect; it’s not like you. All you had to say is Cindy Lou, I’m in the mood for a blowjob.” I took his hand and led him back to our room. I couldn’t talk for the next hour or so; I had a long, thick black cock in my mouth. All of it, and I didn’t choke on it.

Roberta Lee must have come back to their room, too. While I was bobbing up and down on Jackson’s gorgeous meat, we could hear Roberta Lee. “Like that, Andrew fuck my cunt just like that, make me squeal like a pig. Oooooooooh, oooooooooooh, oooooo ooooh, yes, yes, oh yes, I’m your cocksucking bitch, but right now my cunt wants all your magnificent, gorgeous, huge black cock. Give my cunt every inch of it.”

It was a glorious two weeks. On the flight home we compared notes. The consensus was that our goodies were sore, and our lips were raw. We no longer kept the most intimate secrets from each other.

We’d have to conjure up some plausible excuses for Junior and Bobby Joe. We knew they’d both want it as soon as we walked in the door.

It was five years later and at the end of another “vacation” in San Diego, when we both decided that we weren’t going back to Gulfport or Mississippi.

It may have seemed strange. Two twenty-seven year old Mississippi girls clinging to black men old enough to be their fathers, but if you saw Jackson and Andrew walking that nude beach in La Jolla, their cocks swinging in front of them , you’d understand.

Jackson and I were in bed. “Goldilocks, maybe I should get a tattoo like Roberta Lee’s, but it would say, Goldilocks’ tongue enter below.”

“Cindy Lou, I don’t need directions.”

“Nor instructions.” I pushed his head down.

THE END

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