When we first got together, Connie (my first wife) hadn’t even liked going down on me, but over the years she became used to it. A few times I’d cum in her mouth without warning because if I had let her know, she’d have pulled her mouth off and finished me with her hand. At first it disgusted her, but I think she eventually came to expect it. I’d also kept giving her tastes of herself on my fingers and dick, going from pussy to mouth, with similar results. She claimed to not like it, but over time I’d noticed whenever we would do that, she would cum with much more intensity, so I figured she secretly enjoyed it.

One day Connie surprised me by mentioning the flavor of my cum. Right out of the blue. She said she’d gotten used to the texture and the heat of it when it squirted into her mouth, but the flavor usually made her want to puke and she couldn’t wait to spit it out. “Have you ever tasted yourself,” I recalled her asking. “It’s nasty.” I could still see her scrunched up face. “I’ve been talking to Andrea,” a woman she tended bar with who seemed to be such a party girl that I could see her sucking and swallowing any meat that swung between two legs. “She says drinking pineapple juice will make you taste better.”

The prospect of her finally enjoying it enough to maybe even swallow was exciting, and I’d drink gallons of pineapple juice if that would make it happen. “Well, I’ll pick some up,” I said.

“I already have. It’s in the kitchen. Start drinking it, please.” Oh, fuck, yeah!

I did and after a while Connie said she noticed a difference. One evening she was on her back with her head turned toward me as I knelt beside her, fucking her mouth and fingering her clit. “I’m ready to cum,” I said, wondering if she’d keep sucking or switch to her hand. She pushed her head forward, sliding her mouth down my shaft to indicate what she wanted. Oh, crap, that was it. I blew a load into her mouth and watched her throat work as she swallowed it down. Gripping the base of my shaft with her thumb and index finger, she milked the last drops out, then pulled her mouth off me. “Ahhhh. Did I suck you dry?” she asked with a smile. There was never a problem with me cumming in her mouth after that.

Over the following months we both sought ways to enhance my flavor even more, experimenting with various fruits, veggies and spices. We also experimented with other activities such as anal, ass-to-mouth, rimming, even swapping and multiple partners. Once the swallowing cum had been overcome, she turned into a sex fiend with few inhibitions. We were so perfectly matched in bed that it was a real shame when I had to leave her because of her lifestyle. She was a speed freak who was busted too many times and turned narc to stay out of jail. That made her a target and too dangerous to be around. I was young and had tried to get her off the stuff, so I just bailed to protect myself. I’d searched in vain for decades to find another partner like her. And now...

Roger, Pamela’s husband, was on a fishing trip, as she put it, “drinking beer and doing macho asshole stuff”. It was morning following an amazing fuck the night before. That had been our second time together, the first being in my tent during a camping trip as Roger slept in their trailer. While we were swimming earlier that day, Pamela had accidentally brushed against my cock which was hard from looking at her delicious body in a bikini. She realized I was sized like her first lover, larger than her diminutive husband. She loved Roger dearly, that was obvious, but he could not satisfy her as her first and only other man had. Apparently, I’d made her happy that night because she’d invited me over for the weekend of the fishing trip for a more extended and in-depth (pun intended) experience.

It was warm enough that no covers were required so we were laying there naked, her on her back with one hand on her stomach, breasts rising and falling as she slept. I was on my side marveling how a woman in her mid-50s with two grown kids could still look so good. Not just in her face. Sure, her breasts sagged to either side, but they were still full with no stretch marks, pink areolae only slightly larger around than her darker pink nipples. Her belly was almost flat and only slightly wrinkled from the pregnancies. Bush neatly trimmed. Thighs still firm. I couldn’t see her butt, but I knew it was still shaped nicely with only a bit of cottage cheese look. She could seriously rock a bikini. My dick stirred at the memory of her breasts and belly glistening with water as she walked up from the river, nipples pressing prominently against the fabric of the top. God, I wanted to fuck her right then. Her eyes opened and she smiled at me.

“Good morning.” It was barely more than a whisper. “Did you sleep well?”

“After all that exercise? Oh, yeah,” I replied. The scent of the previous night’s sex still lingered. I was half hard, and it wasn’t from needing to pee.

She turned onto her side facing me and lightly stroked my cock with her fingers. “I see you’re recovered nicely. But I’m hungry and we both could use a shower.” Well, I couldn’t argue that since I had a hole in my belly, too. Leaning over she gave me a peck on the lips. “Come on. Let’s wash each other’s backs.” She rolled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. When she reached the door, she turned back. “You coming?”

“Just admiring that mighty fine butt of yours,” I replied.

“Let’s shower and have breakfast, then you can do more with it than admire.” Oh, fuck, yeah. I jumped out of bed and joined her in the bathroom. They had a large garden tub with plenty of room for two (maybe three) people, and a shower head on a hose to allow spraying everywhere. We scrubbed each other down, first she cleaned me, then I cleaned her. I was surprised when she slipped a soapy hand into the cheeks of my butt and scrubbed me well there, then moved on to the area behind my balls. Then she stroked my cock just enough to get me mostly hard before handing me the soap so I could do her. I repeated the procedure, making sure her ass was clean after what she’d said. We dried each other off and went to the kitchen where she fixed us eggs, grits, and ham. Then I washed the dishes which she dried and put away. With all the chores done, I said to her, “I’m really wanting to play some more. Are you ready to be filled up again?” That was a reference to my size vs her husband’s, something she’d said on our first night in the tent.