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College Boy! I suppose now you'll forget all about us lowly peons." Not a chance, Bobby" I said straight faced. "Even if I had a lobotomy I couldn't forget you. You, my friend, are unforgettable."Bobby frowned, clearly unsure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult, but before he could say anything, Missy stepped up to the table. None of the other regulars had yet arrived. "Can I talk to John in private for a moment, Bobby?" Sure thing, Missy. I need to get some more ketchup anyway." What's on your mind, Missy?" I asked, suddenly nervous. She knew I had few secrets from Bobby, so the fact that she wanted to talk to me privately worried me. As dire thoughts raced through my brain, I realized with a start how important Missy had become to me. I was suddenly afraid that she was going to break —"Are you doing anything on the 22nd?" She asked, interrupting my thoughts."A week from Saturday?" I blinked. While I'd had no idea what Missy wanted, that certainly wasn't what I. In the dim light I could see them glistening and hear the squishing of her drenched cunt.I was earnestly pumping her mouth and doing the best I could to last longer. "Rub your clit," I said. "Make yourself cum!" What she did surprised me. She reached down with her left hand and began furiously rubbing her clit as her right hand kept fucking her pussy. Oh, God, that did it! My hands left her breasts and grabbed her hair, holding her head in place. I'd cum in her mouth only once before, by accident, and she'd immediately jumped back. Not tonight. This time she was taking the cream from the creampuff. Maybe next time she had an urge to embarrass me she'd think twice. I knew she wouldn't swallow it, but she'd damned sure get a good taste of it for once.Suddenly her knees came up and she lifted her hips off the bed as she drove her fingers deep into herself and her other hand pressed hard on her clit. She gave out her orgasmic squeal, but in a tone and intensity I'd never heard before..
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." But well-executed, anyway."Smile returned. An hour or so later, the pine trees of central Alabama were a thousand feet under us in the traffic pattern of our home field. Forty-five minutes after that, the plane was in the hangar and we were on our way to Charlie and Helen's.We parked and walked in the back door, knowing we were no surprise, after we called them on our touch-down. The two were sitting at the breakfast table."How was your trip?" Helen asked.I let Cindy handle that conversation. Helen, as much as any of us, relished Cindy's enthusiasm. I hauled bags in from the truck. Mizz Eletha caught me going into the guest room."Dan, just pile those dirty clothes by the door. I'll get 'em." Oh, thank you, Mizz Eletha," I said, "but I can do laundry." It's MY job, Dan. How was your trip?" Shows me that I get lonesome for home and I don't know it," I said. "Cindy does too, and it's not even HER home." Most folks want a place to call home, Dan. She calls whatever you call home, her.

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