Never having seen a cunt other than her own, Peggy had been fascinated by it. The woman let her touch it, feel of it, and Peggy was working up the courage to ask if she could kiss it. But the woman was in a hurry. She scribbled her name and phone number on a piece of paper, handing it to Peggy.

"Call me later, honey," she had said. "We can spend more time together. You have the sweetest little cunt I've ever licked."

But Peggy had never used the phone number. She had been afraid to use it. Not of the woman, not of getting sucked, not of maybe tasting that hairy cunt herself, but because of getting caught.

So she never had the opportunity to put her face between a woman's thighs, nor did she ever get licked by a woman since. But Peggy had fantasized about it all these years, wishing she had called.

By the time she married, Peggy had fucked, by her count, sixteen different boys. And not one of them licked her pussy.

The first time she tasted a cock was on her wedding night.

She had not really wanted to do it. She was willing to take it into her mouth, suck on it, lick it and play with it, but her new husband wanted to come in her mouth. Peggy wasn't sure about that. She had seen boys come before, and the fuck-juice had not looked all that appetizing to her.

But her husband forced it on her.

He had fucked his cock into her mouth and made her suck it. She had enjoyed that part, dreading the moment he would squirt into her mouth. He had held the back of her head so she couldn't get away, and as his cock grew harder and thicker, the throbs more powerful, Peggy knew he was going to come in her mouth. She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly, and fucked her mouth vigorously, then shot his hot, thick fuck-juices into her mouth.