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I would spend the night with her son and the next morning her son and the father would leave to go to some sport thing and it would be just me and her. We would talk and drink coffee. Her name was Jamie and the more we talked the closer we got and the more intimate the conversation would get. Jamie never wore a bra around the house. And the closer we got the less clothing she wore. Finally, she would just wear a sleep shirt around me, her tits swaying as she did stuff in the kitchen and a peak at her bare ass when she reached for something up high. One morning it was just she and I having coffee and talking, flirting. She asked me if I was a virgin. I told her yes but I hope for not much longer. She laughed. Then she talked about her first time. As she talked she lifted her leg up placing her foot on the chair lifting her shirt. This gave me a clear view of her pussy. The short black hair, her juicy lips, and plenty of pink. The contrast between the dark skin and the wet pink. While I dallied at her pussy, she reached down between my legs. Once again, synchronization. While I provided a rhythmic thrust inside her womanhood, she partnered with an equally rhythmic stroking of my cock. This lasted for several minutes, until she was dripping and I was beyond turgid.I wanted to taste her liquid, so slowly slid down her belly. It had a slight mound shape, and I delighted in running my tongue down her belly - to the hairy mons - and then to her lips. She glistened in the light, for by now we had kicked off the bed covers. Neither of us was cold any longer. As I began to lap up her fragrant juices, my tongue darting in and out between her lips, she coaxed me to shift into a 69 position. While I drank from her love nest, she took me into her mouth. It was as though we'd discussed what was going to happen - but, we had not. Neither of us tried to change positions again. We were seemingly intoxicated by the actions of our mouths. Stroking and thrusting away, we kept.
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