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Black divorced man, white mature widowed real estate agent.

around Marlon's already swollen head, "this is a turn up for the books!"

She ran her tongue all along Marlon's peehole slit, and proceeded to give us both the best blow job I'd ever experienced, which suggested that Doris was nowhere near as hard up and frustrated as her appearance might have led you to believe.

I worried that the hospital issue bed would be able to take our combined weight as she lowered her almighty bottom down onto my only too willing face. I poked my tongue in, and began the long and difficult Hunt For Red Clitoris. Judging by her squeals and shudders, and the cascade of Doris-cum I took delivery of only a couple of minutes later, I found it.

All of my liaisons in the hospital were governed by the fact that the ladies in question weren't supposed to be in my room for more than a couple of minutes at a time in the course of their duties, so after giving Doris a truly satisfying facial, and then a quick straight doggy-style, she, dirty cow that she was, put her clothes straight back on without bothering to clean up, and went to finish her cleaning round.

After giving Marlon some time to recover, I tried to put into words what had been going through my mind.

" You know. . . it's not that I'm not grateful for all the . . . pussy . . . and that, only . . . "

"Only what, dipshit?"

Marlon was always obnoxious after he'd just had sex - so he was obnoxious a hell of a lot of the time now.

"Only, well, I can't help noticing. . . all of these women whose . . . pussies . . . that you charm, well, they're no spring chickens, are they?"

"Say what?"

"They're old. Not one of them is under 40, and most of them are over 50. And they're big. I mean not huge - well apart from Doris, I mean, she was a complete heifer - but they're none of them slim, are they?"

Marlon didn't reply for a moment or two. When he did, his voice had taken on an accusing tone.

"So let me get this straight," he said, "after having had just three women in the last 4 years, you now complaining when I'm busting my hump getting you laid once a day? In a hospital? And you're complaining because I ain't yet been able to pussy-charm you a supermodel?"

"I'm not complaining Marlon."

"What you calling me?"

"Marlon. When you're . . . soft . . . you look a bit like Marlon Jackson from the Jackson 5."

"Man, what is wrong with you?!"

"I just thought it sounded more friendly than calling you . . . cock, or dick, or . . . willy. . . or"

"Man, if I could only get me transfer to some other body. Look, you complaining that these ladies are a little wrinkly round the edges, right?"

"Well, not exactly wrinkly . . . and not exactly complaining. . . "

"Well, then you complaining because they a little thick aroun' the middle"

"Well again, I'm not saying that they're fat, but -"

For a moment Marlon flared up to his full height, as a sign of his exasperation, then subsided again.

"Let me ask you something. You ever had a blowjob like that ole walrus Doris jus' give you? Take it from me, you ain't. And them skinny women you had back before you started listening to me, did any of them wrap me up in their big ole titties, and hump me until I creamed all over them like Vera and Sue and . . . who was that other one?"

"Rita."

"Yeah, Rita, and her big ole udders. Them skinny girls ever hump you like Rita's knockers? Like hell they did. You think any of them skinny young girls you used to go chasing around can ever show you the kinda good times these big old gals been only too happy to give you, then you, coma boy, are sadly mistaken."

I stopped talking, and started to give what Marlon had said a little thought.

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