We slept on the sun-porch that stretched across the back of his elderly aunt’s old farmhouse. Our single beds were arranged in an L-shape, with heads meeting. From this position we were treated to a large picture window overlooking the pastures and the dilapidated barn. The window was dressed in old lace curtains that had yellowed through the years.
An old rooster crowed his morning alarm as he did without fail each time the sun reached five A.M. The sun was dancing through the old oak tree and across the room. Patterns created by the shadows of curtain lace skipped across my face and roused me further. From beneath the well-worn patchwork quilt, I heard him chuckle.
"Good morning sleepyhead! I was beginning to think you'd sleep the best part of the day away."
With that said, he threw his legs over the side of his bed and bounded into mine. After snuggling up beside me and encasing me in his arms, he brushed the hair from my face. He kissed my lips, teasingly parting them with the tip of his tongue. His tongue caressed mine with a flickering light touch.
When my body began to respond in appreciative reciprocation, he rose up on one elbow and grinned. "I've been watching you sleep. You have the most beautiful sensuous lips. Looking at them made me alive with memories of what they feel like wrapped around me."
With grace and a touch of drama, he got out of bed and positioned himself standing behind my pillow. His penis was bobbing enthusiastically above my face. All that separated us was a few inches that could easily be eradicated by a slight forward motion on his part or an upward rise on mine
Moistening my lips with my tongue I chose the latter. Taking the head of his penis into my mouth, I began a slow wet circular motion with my tongue. A sigh escaped him as the pleasurable sensation reached his brain. This encouraged me to work my way down the shaft with a feathering flicker motion.
He lost his balance momentarily and had to brace his knees against the bed for support. He loved it when I sucked the head and underside just like it was a melting ice cream cone. And just like a selfish child, I took great effort not to waste a drop. Having practiced this technique, I knew by his moans that he was expressing his absolute approval.
He rewarded me by caressing my nipples, stretching them and pinching them to a flushed pink color. He brushed his fingertips lightly up and down my torso, the insides of my legs, and ran his fingers through my pubic hair. Ever so gently, he stroked the outer edges of my vaginal lips. This caused my clitoris to blossom to attention, eager for any additional that might come that way.
I had reached the point of hot arousal. My nostrils flared as the smell of his sex permeated the air. He lowered his body so that his face was between my legs. First contact of his tongue on the soft folds of my vagina felt like an electric shock. My body leapt to interlock with the delights of his mouth and tongue. His beard titillated my clitoris as his tongue explored the inner walls of my vagina.
Continuing to suck and glide his shaft, the muscles of my throat relaxed and I was able to take all of him. His balls rubbed against my lips. They were fleshy, heavy, and with a coating of light blonde hair. Lifting them and cupping them in one hand, I felt him throb.
Spreading my lips with his thumb and forefinger, he exposed my clitoris. He blew a wave of hot breath over me and through me, before resuming his lavish tongue massage on my womanhood. I felt my orgasm rising. We began a rocking sucking motion in unison. Soon my orgasm washed through my body and into his, while his orgasm pulsed though mine. Instinctively I swallowed. Our bodies seemed to have no beginning and no end.
He raised his head and looked at me with a smile. We cuddled beside each other to enjoy the warm afterglow. Once again we delighted in the shadows created by the lace curtains skipping across the floor.
As if satisfied that he had aroused our slumber the rooster quieted down. Before drifting off into light slumber, he whispered into my ear. "That was delightful. How I love those lips!"
Aliceville is in a rural corner of Alabama. It is definitely not a Norman Rockwell setting.
Like most small towns in the South, the courthouse, municipal buildings, at least two diners, and a large Baptist Church were all built in a square around a small park. Once one leaves Main Street, all the roads lead to lanes of dusty red clay.
Unfortunately, I had packed like a city girl. My white shorts, sandals and pink painted toenails were all coated in a dusting of that red clay after walking the first block to Betty’s Diner.
Andrew opened the door for me with an amused twinkle in his eyes and the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. “You look like an orchid in a pig sty!”
I felt my Irish temper start to flare. But, the smell of the freshly brewed coffee and bacon frying on the griddle improved my demeanor.
There were about ten other early risers there already. Andrew nodded his head in greeting as we passed each table. Most were farmers who had been at work for hours.
