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“Are you going to kiss me?” she asked with a knowing smile, and scooping up the last remaining globs of the stuff, stuffing it in her mouth. It was a challenge. She sucked her fingers and lifted her face for a kiss. I kissed her and tasted the bitterness on her tongue. I had tasted my own cum before (don’t ask!). I wouldn’t say it was pleasant but not unpleasant either.She looked surprised. “Ingrid said you would refuse. Men do,” she said by way of explanation.“I’d never refuse to kiss you, my darling. Not my favourite flavour, but edible,” I said smugly, “Not my first time either.”She looked a little confused at that, but the expression on her face soon changed when I pulled her up, placed her by my side sliding off immediately to pull her to the edge of the cushion. I spread her and began to return her favour. It did not take long before she was groaning and moaning and pushing her mound into my face. I intensified my tongue work and she came in quick time.“Oh, yes!” were the only. Even with the realization that it wasn’t her, my mind nevertheless replayed scenes from that hot summer interlude not so many years ago.Having by necessity to attend a business seminar in Cincinatti mid-July that year and with a week or so to kill before flying on to join a marketing delegation in New York, I decided to “discover” Ohio, heading east along Interstate 52 in the general direction of Portsmouth then north to Columbus and east to Youngstown via Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The plan was good, the reality something else.Just twenty miles out from Cincinnati, New Richmond typifies small-town America. The quaintest of villages and with a population of barely 2200 people, including only five permanently stationed police officers, let's just say that rush-hour had yet to prove an issue.Peckish, having passed up on breakfast, I decided this was as good a spot as any to indulge my stomach lining. Pulling off the highway that runs pretty much through the town center, I cruised a.
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