I dressed in leather pants that I had found in a local "taboo" shop. Along with my sleeveless black t-shirt, my leather vest, and my black combat boots, from my service in the Army, I felt I looked the part, or maybe I looked ridiculous. I would soon find out. I might be laughed out of the party. Shit, I would take the chance for Ursula. The weather was gloomy and rainy as usual. That was not one of the main reasons we lived there. I took the time to stop and smell the lilacs as I walked from my Mercedes to Ursula's apartment building. It always brought so many good memories. As I took the stairs to her apartment on the 5th floor (I needed the exercise) I was joined by another fellow dressed in a suit. What the hell? Were we going to the same party? What an idiot I now felt. We both arrived at Ursula's door. We then greeted each other, made intros, and rang her doorbell. She came to the door and (I was glad to the core) gave me a hug first, and then John. "Roger, this is John, John,. She gasped for air, and her hips tilted to take my fingers completely. Found it! I moved quickly in between her legs, not giving her time to protest. My tongue met her clit, which was covered in her warm juices. She dripped all over my fingers, and I watched rivers of her nectar find their way down her ass cheeks and drip onto the couch. I engulfed her clit in my mouth, sucking, licking, dragging my tongue across it, forcing my fingers into her soaking wet pussy. It wasn't long before I felt her body tense. She grabbed the back of my head, forced my face deeper into her pussy... she squeezed her thighs against my head like a vice, but that didn't stop me. She inhaled in tiny, ragged breaths, and managed to whisper the words I had been waiting to hear all these years, "Don't stop." Her body convulsed in ecstasy, gushing hot, sugary cum directly onto my tongue. She let out a moan like a porn star. She bucked against my face, drenching my mouth with her syrup. It felt like minutes.
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