When I was young I couldn’t stop thinking about pussy. The modern fetish for shaving had not arrived, so the magazines were full of real bush. Then I met that one girl in particular, I couldn’t get enough of her. Long chestnut hair, big brown eyes, hourglass figure, and, I came to discover, a full bush around a perfect pink pussy. I saw her first in a dormitory room doorway sitting on the ground, leaning against the jam in blue jeans, surrounded by guys. I couldn’t believe how beautiful she was, and her legs! Those legs entered my brain and took up residence, pushing aside all other thoughts.
It was a long time ago, but I remember the many late night stoned and drunk hours of eating out that girl. I was a slave to kissing, licking, fingering, and sticking my nose into that girls groin. And she knew what she wanted. If I was too rough she stopped me and told me exactly how she wanted it done. She taught me to start slowly and gently, barely touching her, just brushing over the hair and, barely making contact, move my finger-tips over her labia. I would do that and wait for the change in her breathing that told me she was feeling the juices beginning to flow. Slowly I would move the tips of my fingers around between her legs, brushing her inner thighs and moving again and again back to her moist soft lips. And when she was opening up, I would kiss my way from her neck, over her breasts and belly, and follow the wispy golden hairs from her belly button to that musky bush of pubic hair surrounding her pussy. And then I would begin to lick, doing everything I’d done with my fingertips with the tip of my tongue, and smelling her warmth. When she gave a deep moan of pleasure I would begin to feast on her warm juice. My face would be covered in her cum, and every now and again she dragged me to her and we kissed passionately, breathing in the love.