Earlier this year my husband and I took a trip to Jackson, Mississippi, for the national Sweet Potato Queens convention, which amounts to four days of parties and luncheons, topped off with marching in the St. Patrick’s Day parade.

At our hotel bar, scores of Sweet Potato wannabes were renewing last year’s friendships and making new ones. My husband wandered around taking pictures while I mingled. I noticed one very attractive blonde with a dynamite figure encased in a short, tight pink dress.

I tried not to stare as she made her way to the restroom, and when she returned, I almost burst out laughing. My dear sweet husband was with her.

He walked over to me. “Who’s your friend?” I asked.

“Her name’s Misty, and she wants to buy you a drink.” Then he spotted someone he knew and left me standing alone. I looked at Misty. She nodded toward the bar; I smiled and joined her there.

“Hi, Fiona. I’m Misty,” she said. I took her outstretched hand. She squeezed my fingers as we stared into each other’s eyes. We didn’t say a word until the bartender put our drinks in front of us.

It was crowded, and we had to stand really close. Not that I minded. It was amazing how aroused I was getting from just standing next to her. At one point our boobs pressed together. I gasped when I felt her hand on my hip, pulling me even closer. I was half afraid she was going to kiss me, but instead of pulling away, I pushed closer, mesmerized by her boldness. When she picked both her drink and my room key up off the bar, I followed her to the elevator.

As the elevator door closed, she pressed her lips to mine. Our tongues melded as our bodies pressed together. When we pulled back, I realized the elevators looked out over the pool. Two bikini-clad girls were looking up at us. Misty blew them a kiss as we left the elevator and ran toward my room.

In the room, Misty undressed me. As my blouse and bra hit the floor, she kissed down my neck and toyed with one of my nipples. My fingers clutched her soft blonde hair, holding her tight as she suckled my breast.

My skirt fell to the floor. Misty helped me onto the bed and stood at its foot, looking down at me. “Fiona,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. I wanted you the moment you walked into the bar.” She reached down, placed her hands on my legs, then slid her hands down and pulled off my shoes. She never said a word — she just looked at me with that “I want you” look in her eyes.

She raised my foot to her lips and kissed my toes — a first for me. When her tongue slid across my polished toenails, a shudder went through me. It was nice, but I wanted that tongue somewhere else, and was getting a little impatient.

I have nothing against foreplay, but I was too fucking horny and needed much more. I pulled at my nipples as she caressed my toes with her tongue. Finally she released my leg and took a step back.

When her dress fell to the floor, I held my breath. Her body was beautiful. I reached between my legs and into my panties. When her bra followed to the floor, I plunged two fingers into my pussy. She cupped her breasts and watched my fingers sliding in and out of my soaked cooter.

“Fiona,” she said, “take off your panties and throw them to me.” I lifted my rear, slipped off my wet panties, and flung them to her. She caught them and held them to her face. She sniffed them and said, “You smell so good. I can’t wait to taste you.”

I could hardly catch my breath. “Misty, if you don’t hurry, all you’re going to get is leftovers,” I warned. She smiled, crawled up on the bed, and pulled my hand from between my legs. She took a boa that was draped over a chair and trailed it up and down my body. The feathers made my skin tingle.

Breathing hard, I begged, “Please, Misty, do me, baby, I can’t stand it any longer. Make me come!” As she knelt over me, I pulled her stiff nipple into my eager mouth.

“Oh, yes, Fiona. That’s it, baby, suck my nipple! Feel how hard it is.” Her wet thong touched my twat as I feasted on her boob. She slid down and took my

lips in hers. I felt her mound desperately pressing into mine as our tongues fought a fierce battle.

She sat up and slipped off her thong. She held it to my face and said, “Smell me, Fiona, smell how hot you’ve made me.” I took a deep breath, inhaling the musky aroma of her sex, wishing that

she would move up and let me have the real thing.

Before I could say anything, she sat up, slid her hand between my legs, and spread the juices from my pussy over my straining clit. Then she slid her legs under mine. I was confused until she pulled my hips close and our pussies met. Our wet pussies meshed as she started humping.

“Oh, shit, Misty. I’m going to come, baby. Fuck me hard!” I yelled. She pulled back an instant before I climaxed, then slid down and put her lips to my pussy. I arched my hips as her tongue pressed into me. I wiggled and thrashed when her tongue made contact with my engorged clit. I wanted to savor this ecstasy, but my need was too great. It felt like the Fourth of July in my head. “Oh, yes, yes, now, yes! Eat me, Misty, suck my pussy, yes!” I exploded with an orgasm that wracked my body. Misty licked and sucked my pussy until I was completely spent.

I fell back on the bed gasping, and watched as she silently got dressed. I still had her thong in my hand when she softly closed the door.