I was 21 when I graduated college. A few months later, I hit the road. My new job as a tech consultant immediately sent me out of town to train young people just starting their internships or careers. Usually, the company put up traveling trainers at a hotel. But with several conferences in town at the same time, the town I was sent to was packed and all the rooms booked. So the next best thing was a bed and breakfast home. The house was on a quiet street, a two-block walk to the training center.

The home’s owner, Kurt, met me there to give me the key and show me around. He said he was a retired business executive and he moved to this town for some peace. He lived in the main house and he rented out a small back apartment for some steady income.

Kurt looked like he was about 60, and had that classic handsome look of a business boss. But instead of suit and tie, he was now in shorts and a polo shirt. Not a hair, mostly gray, was out of place. And I could tell he kept in shape. He said he played tennis every day. I’m not sure if he was widowed or divorced or maybe never married. But he said he arrived a year ago by himself.

Kurt invited me for dinner in the main house. He said he was cooking and would love the company.

This was culture shock for me. I just left four years of being surrounded by mostly immature frat house guys. I don’t want to stereotype, but my sorority attracted men whose main goal was to fuck the girls. They would visit our house and undress and hold their dicks as if that is what every girl dreamed about. I followed what the other girls did on these visits. Picked a guy, gave him a blowjob, then spread my shaved pussy for a big plunge. And that was that.

Now I felt like a woman. I had a degree. I had a job. And I had a bush. But I wanted a man who would pay attention to it. I wanted to be licked and caressed.

Kurt taught me what I never learned in college.

After our lovely pasta dinner, I wondered what came next.

We talked about our lives a bit. Kurt was a widower without kids. He liked being alone but appreciated occasional visitors.

This was an unlikely match though. I just turned 21. He was 40 years older. But here I was, in a small town without much to do. And I was feeling a bit horny and curious about being with an older man, one as sophisticated as Kurt who might also learn a thing or two from me.

Suddenly we were passionately kissing on the sofa. Kurt started undressing me and I didn’t mind. He unbuttoned my blouse, unhooked my bra, helped me pull down my jeans and slid down my panties. And there I was, completely naked. Kurt didn’t waste time in taking it slow. He didn’t whip out his cock and stick it in as any of the frat guys might have. Instead, he gave me a lesson I will never forget.

Kurt kissed me again and then slowly moved down. He rubbed and kissed my shoulder. He massaged my breasts and nibbled my nipples. He nuzzled my tummy and licked my navel. Then be moved down to the inside of my thighs. He kissed them and then he must have caught the musky fragrance coming from my moistening pussy.

So he slowly moved back up and started the main course.

First he buried his face in my bush and just inhaled. The scent must have made him crazy with lust.

And the feasting began.

He unleashed a tongue that went everywhere, pointed straight into my vagina and then flattened for the trip up my labia and then flittering as he flicked it across my swollen clit. I gushed pussy juice and he swallowed it as he tongued between my legs.

I have never been so devoured. And it was just the start.

The guy’s head was practically inside my vagina. His nose rested right above my clit and his lips and tongue kept busy below. I had never been with a man buried so deeply in my layers.

He nibbled, he nuzzled, he lapped me up. It was an all-you-can-eat special and he kept coming back for more taco.

By this time, I was writhing in ecstasy. No guy at the frat spent time going down like this.

I spread my legs farther apart to give Kurt easier access and a view of my vagina. He continued to lick and sniff — and by this time I just wanted to play with his penis.

He could tell so he slipped off his shorts and briefs and out sprung his dick. I smelled cologne on his cock and balls so he must have freshened up for this moment. His erect penis poked through his pubic hair and was a hard 5 inches that seemed ready for some action. I wanted Kurt to continue feasting on my pussy so I climbed on board and smothered his face with my triangle. He inhaled the sea salt aroma piping out of my hot and wet pussy before unleashing that tongue again between my lips, around my clitoris and into my vagina hole. Meanwhile, I bent down toward his penis and hairy balls and worked them with my hand before taking his dick in my mouth.

Kurt held off coming for as long as he could as I blew him but then he shot cum in my face. As he circled my clit with his tongue, my vagina convulsed with a volcanic orgasm. My pussy was on fire and I gushed juice across his face. His cheeks glistened and his nose was wet with my naturally scented pussy lube. My ocean scent was all over him.

“Oh, wow,” was all I could say to him as we collapsed side by side on the bed, his penis softening and my garden glistening. “You have some experience doing that.”

“Not a lot,” he said. “And I haven’t indulged in a long time. My wife didn’t like oral sex, getting or giving. I had a girlfriend in college who taught me and you remind me of her.”

“That’s sweet,” I said. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name was Debbie and she loved making love. She was really into foreplay and always asked me to dive in. She had this intoxicating scent that drove me crazy. It would get into my head and on my hands and I felt like I was always with her. When I got married, my wife wasn’t into any of that. She would tolerate intercourse but didn’t want to play. A few years later, when she left the picture, I had an affair with her younger sister. She was the opposite and I resumed the kind of lovemaking I learned to do with Debbie. I don’t think my wife’s sister, Lisa, was getting much from her husband so she loved the attention, and my tongue. She was blonde but I think she dyed her hair if you know what I mean. I spent a lot of time between her legs. She also had an amazing scent that permeated the air when she got aroused. Just like you.”

So this was what making love was like?

The last time I was with a guy, he didn’t give my pussy the time of day.

Josh was your typical frat guy. He had a tattoo on his arm and expected the girls to be smoothly shaven and ready to take in his big cock. And he did have a big one, 7 or 8 inches, with a purple head ready to explode. I certainly didn’t complain about the visual show. He undressed me, gave a precursory nipple rub, briefly stuck his face in my then shaved pussy and then was quickly ready to rock and roll. I wasn’t even wet yet when be plunged his bulging boner into my slit. About two minutes later, he pulled out and shot his load across my belly. That was it.

Kurt was so different. Slow-going. Gourmet.

Josh was a fast-food sausage, quick to stick it in the oven and serve it up quickly.

Kurt treated my bush like a rose garden. He watered it and sniffed. His penis didn’t have to be huge. It did the job, getting hard and shooting strong. But he made his real mark with his tongue.

Oh, that tongue. I get wet just thinking about what it felt like to be everywhere in my vagina.

Soon, Kurt would be a memory. I was back to traveling and he was back to tending his home.

But he set the standard for me: a man who appreciates the scent and taste of pussy.