After he left, I quickly masturbated myself to a satisfying orgasm then cleaned up and left the restroom. It was hard to believe what I had just done, but the situation had seemed so right at the time. After all, as a 25 year-old married man, I was still used to having four or five orgasms per day, including performing my normal marital obligations. I had to face the facts . . . I just could not get enough sex. But this situation -- alone in a deserted restroom, with basically zero chance of getting caught -- and I had just sucked the most magnificent black penis I have ever seen, and brought orgasmic delight to a man twice my age.
I still could not get over how much I lusted for his thick hose-length member. The only decision I had to make now was whether to call him this afternoon.
Later that day I ended up at a local bar, sipping on my second ice cold beer. I was now completely recovered from my morning orgasm, and hornier than ever. As I fingered the business card in my pocket, I decided to give him a call. There were other things I lusted after with this very mature gentleman, and there was only one way to proceed. As I dropped a dime into the pay phone I wondered what I would say. Just then, a woman answered the phone. I stumbled around for a brief moment before finally looking at the card again to make sure I knew whom I was calling.
"Uuh ... is James there, please." I said, seeming to choke on my words. With some sort of nice foreign accent, the lady then ask who was calling. I explained I was a friend who had just met James that morning at the university.
"Oh, yes," she said. "James told me that you might be calling. He's not here right now, but I'm Krishna his wife, and you are invited to come over and wait for him." Not sure what to do, I decided to take her up on the offer, and after securing directions to her house, I left the bar and walked to my car.
The summer heat seemed oppressive in comparison to the air-conditioned lounge, and the bright sunshine almost blinded me. Nevertheless, I had a nice buzz going as I drove to the address she had given me. I wondered what I would do or say when I arrived. As I pulled up I noticed their house was a neat, white-framed cottage, with a separate garage in back. I pulled into the driveway and drove to the back of the house and parked. As I got out, I heard that same foreign sounding voice, from the back door, calling for me to come on in.
Krishna was a dark skinned woman, but did not have the normal African features of most black people. It turns out she was from India. She looked to be about 40 years old, and was dressed in a billowing, silk, flower-print housecoat. As I neared the porch, I could make out her very attractive facial features. She wore her straight jet black hair pulled back in a bun, tied with a bright yellow ribbon, and her wide smile, accentuated by a perfect set of white teeth, served to alleviate any nervousness I had felt on the way over.
"Come right in," she said with a very pleasant accent as she held out her arms as if I was a long lost son. She gave me a big hug, and immediately I could feel the size and heft of her extremely large breasts as they pressed against my chest. She invited me in and offered me a glass of wine which I eagerly accepted. She joined me with a glass of her own and invited me into the living room where we sat down on her sofa and began to chit-chat. She told me how she had met James at the university. Her father had sent her from India to the United States to go to college. She never returned.
By now, I had an opportunity to size up the situation, and the size of her breasts had reached the top of my attention list. She obviously was not wearing a bra under her silk robe, because her ample breasts were swaying and bouncing all over the place and the outline of her nipples made a definite impression as they pressed through the thin fabric. Her housecoat was buttoned at the top but fell open below, revealing her shear white night gown underneath.