Best Way to Eat Blackberry Preserves…On Pussy

The Best Way to Eat Blackberry Preserves

The picture Alan posted on Facebook was a large, blue, Corning Ware bowl… heaped with some of the biggest, beautiful blackberries I’d ever seen. After several comments by people who wanted the berries, without having to pick them off their thorny vines, I sent my former student a private message, “Alan, I would love to have some of those berries. I would be willing to pick all I can, and only take a third of what I pick. In fact, I would also be willing to cook up your share, into preserves, cobbler or whatever you like.”

“Wow, Ms. Parker, that sounds A-W-E-S-O-M-E! I received a grant to improve my fruit orchards and these blackberries are a result of an organic fertilizer I developed. I have about six times as many as last year’s crop, and they’re even more flavorful. I’d love for you to see my place and maybe give me some ideas. When would you like to come?”

“I’m off this Friday and through the weekend. Do you have an extra bedroom? I also fix an unbelievably good omelet for breakfast.”

“It’s just me and my ol’ dog and he stays outside most of the time. I have three bedrooms, so you can use ‘up to’ two of them, if you’d like.”

“That made me chuckle. One will be plenty; how do I get to your place?”

Alan gave me directions and assured me it was easy to find. I stopped by the Garden Gods Nursery and picked up a couple pairs of thin, but tough, leather gloves with forearm protection. Next, I picked up four dozen pint jars, pectin, and twenty pounds of sugar.
On Thursday, after work, I hit the supermarket for cheeses, ham, smoked sausage and mushrooms. Alan had told me that he had onions and tomatoes from his garden. His hens had supplied plenty of eggs, too.

I stopped my Tahoe beside the carport. His pickup was parked in front of it and, when I stepped out, I was amazed to see the reason why. There were tables and racks of vegetables, early peaches, blackberries and tomatoes. Beautiful bunches of onions hung from the rafters on twine.

The young man that came through the door, leading from the house, was very different from the one I remembered. The thin boy with a face full of pimples had been replaced by a man… a damn good looking man, too. The first thing I noticed was his broad chest and muscled arms. That, probably, would NOT have been the first thing, if he’d been wearing a shirt.
I was eleven years older than Alan, but when I saw his bare torso, a tingle woke up my pussy.

“Well, hello. You’ve grown a little and filled out since you graduated. That was, what? Three years ago?”

“Four. I got my bachelor’s degree a couple months ago… Horticulture… I had this grant and two others before I started my senior year.
“Here, let me get this stuff. The kitchen is just inside that door.”

I watch his biceps pop out when he picked up the sacks and head for the door. What in the fuck was wrong with me? I couldn’t take my eyes off his ass, inside those tight jeans. For a second… or two… I wondered how big Alan’s cock was.
‘Damn, Donna, get ahold of yourself. He’s a kid. Well, technically, he’s about 22. Hmm… look at that broad, tanned back. He’s not a kid anymore.’

Alan mildly chastised me for buying so much stuff, “I have a bunch of jars my mom brought me and there’s a good market right down the road. They sell some of my produce on commission. It’s selling pretty good, too. I’ve made over two thousand so far and the harvesting’s only about a third of the way through.
“So… you really didn’t need to bring all this stuff.”

It was a spontaneous comment, but I couldn’t help myself, “Is this the way you always welcome your guests, by griping at them? If you were to come to my house, the first thing I would do is give you a big hug and tell you how nice it is to see you… Oh my, that sounds just like a teacher, doesn’t it?”

He smiled at me… I didn’t remember his face being anywhere near that handsome… “I’m sorry, Ms. Parker, I’m out here by myself most of the time. Dad and Mom come once in a while, but they’ve gone to Ohio to see David. Well, crap. Listen to me rattle. I would love to get a big hug from you.”

Somehow, the strength in his arms melted what defenses I may have had. Right that minute, if he’d asked me to fuck him or give him a blowjob, I wouldn’t have been able to comply fast enough. Just before he released me, one hand lifted and stroked the back of my head.
I stepped back and avoided his eyes when I asked about his bathroom. My panties were soaked and my cunt was clenching, trying to prevent more leakage.

When I returned to the kitchen, it dawned on me that I really was intent on seducing my former math student. The thought had occurred to me when I was in the bathroom. I opened my underwear bag, removed off my bra and slipped into a tight t-shirt. I pulled on some loose-legged shorts, but inserted a tampon in case I had another ‘accident’.

“Mmmm… something smells good. What’cha cooking?”

“Hamburg…,” his words seemed to have stuck in his throat. I noticed his eyes making a quick scan of my body. Dammit, there was that tingle again, “Uh, I’m sorry. I’m fixin’ hamburgers. You just surprised me; I guess the only things I’ve ever seen you wear were dresses or pant suits. You look great, Ms. Parker.”

“O-kay, Alan, I think it’s time we dropped the ‘Ms. Parker’. You haven’t been my student for four years. I’m just plain ‘Donna’ to you, now, alright?”

When the words, “Yes, Donna,” came rolling out so sweetly, I had to excuse myself to the bathroom, again.
This time, I dropped my shorts, jerked the tampon out, and stuck two fingers inside my wet pussy. It only took a few short seconds for my orgasm to explode my mind and my guts.
GOD, how I wanted to get that boy… make that ‘man’ into my bed. I made up my mind… it had been more than two years since I broke up with that cheating idiot, Miles Crockett. I needed some hard cock, some young hard cock… and I was going to do my best to seduce Alan… I was going to fuck him and suck him to Hell and back.

“Are you okay?” his concern was genuine, “You need some Rolaids, or something?”

“No, why?”

“Two trips to the bathroom in ten minutes…”

“No, I’m fine. I guess I probably should have stopped at a station along the highway and relieved myself. It’s just, an old lady’s bladder can’t hold itself like it used to.”

Alan chuckled as he placed the burgers on some paper towels to drain the grease, “Funny you should put it that way. When you first come into the kitchen wearing those shorts, I noticed how nice your legs looked. The thought that went through my mind was, ‘I can’t believe we used to call her ‘Old Lady Parker’ when we were in school’. You are definitely not an old lady. Like I said, you look great.”

I looked him in the eyes when I smiled and thanked him for being so sweet. In my mind, I thought, “I’ll bet your cock is just as sweet, too.”

“Sooooo… Let’s get started on the blackberries. From the looks of it, we’ll be up until midnight if we’re gonna do preserves and jelly. What do you have for big pots?”

Sure enough, Alan had three big ‘tamale’ pots. Each one held about five gallons of berries and sugar. We decided to just do preserves the first night. Jelly would involve straining juice and adding pectin; that could wait until later in the weekend.

At 1:20am, we finished the last of the canning jars. Alan had taken several bags of blanched blackberries to the freezer in the outside shed. When he stepped back in the door, he stared at me for several seconds.
Then he snickered, “We could have canned two more pints if you hadn’t decided to wear so much of it. Maybe we can just use your t-shirt to strain juice tomorrow.”

I picked up the large wooden spoon and flipped the accumulation of seeds and berry skin at him, “Don’t be messing with a tired old woman. You might just get into more than you were expecting.”

The glob had landed on his left bicep. He wiped it with his finger and started toward me, “You better be careful yourself, old woman. This youngster might just make you eat this.”

When he held the wad up and shook his finger at me, I could feel his eyes burning through my sweaty shirt. My nipples grew hard and my pussy started to betray me, again.
That was the moment when my mouth opened and my thoughts spilled out, “I’ll make a deal with you, Alan. I haven’t had sex in two years. If you rub a little preserves on your dick, I’ll eat every bit of it.”

My words stunned him for a few seconds. But when I grabbed the button on the top of his jeans, he jerked his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. “Damn!” I thought, “There’s that beautiful chest again.”
Once the zipper bottomed out, his pants began to slide down his slim, but powerful legs. His hands were on the hem of my t-shirt, then it was on the floor, too. My shorts disappeared as he reached for the sweet, sticky mixture in the shallow ‘tasting’ bowl.

“You first,” he spoke so softly. It was as if he thought I would disappear if he said it any louder. His hand touched my crotch, spreading my labia and filling my crack with warm, blackberry preserves. He swung his arm and the large table emptied with a crash.
I swept my arms through the air and wrapped him in a kiss. What a helluva kiss it was, too. The next thing I knew, I was on the table, on my back.

Alan’s tongue was covering every inch of my tits, with extra attention to my nipples. When he sucked the second one into his mouth, a sticky finger entered my cunt.
My orgasmic scream may have startled him, but it didn’t stop him. Alan trailed down my ribs, stomach, abdomen and reached my clit within a couple of minutes. The first pull on that sensitive button brought me over the top, again.

Horticulture wasn’t the only thing this young man learned in college.

Once he felt he had cleaned up enough preserves, he stood and smiled… God, I had already cum three times, but his smile almost gave me another. I really hadn’t taken notice of his size, once he was naked; but when I felt the pressure at my entrance, I could tell it was a big one.
When an experienced 33yr. old woman has a hard time accepting any man’s cock, you know it must be a whopper. I dipped my fingers into the bowl of preserves and reached for his manhood.
As Gomer Pyle would say, “SURPRISE, SURPRISE!” I thought I had grabbed a skin-covered beer can… one that was two cans long!

“Oh my God, Alan… you’re going to have to take it slow and easy. I never knew real ones got this big.”

He smeared his entire length with sticky, sweet gunk. When he returned to his objective, the head popped inside me. I almost passed out when his second thrust caused me pain… something that I hadn’t experienced with sex, since I was in high school.
The discomfort eased as he pulled back and eased in again. My pussy was so willing and my mind was made up. I was going to take it all, even if damaged me for life.

As horny as Alan must have been, he was the perfect gentleman. The slow, gentle, even strokes were making progress. I could feel my insides stretching, filling with a determined invader.
When he felt my cervix, he quit trying to force more of the meat monster. He moved, only slightly, letting my tunnel become familiar with its occupant… and, my God, it felt so big and so good.

I reached up and pulled his face to mine, “If you’re going to fuck me with that hunk, you’ve gotta kiss me, too.”
I tasted a mixture of my own pussy juice and blackberries as our lips locked together.
His cock started moving, again, making me mash our faces even tighter. The preserves were even on his nose; each time our heads switched from one side to the other, some would rub off on my face.

I pushed him up and saw the look in his eyes… that look. The look that told me, “I want you, all of you.”

“It’s okay, Alan. Push it all in. I want you to fuck me until I can’t even walk. I’ll never be happy unless you make me cum, and cum again. Fill my pussy with everything you’ve got… I’m all yours.”

Two thrusts later, I felt more pain as his cock slid into my cervix. It was completely inside me and when the pain subsided, it was Heaven.

For such a young man, Alan was extremely gentle. He fucked… no… we made love for twenty minutes or more. I was in another world, a constant state of orgasmic bliss. To this day, I’m surprised I was able to go through that much ecstasy without fainting.
It was amazing.

Alan told me when he was going to cum, “And it’s gonna be a big load, Ms…. Donna.”

“I’m on birth control, honey. Just let it go.”

I’ll swear he must have emptied a pint jar full of his spunk into my aching cervix. The extra liquid made our genitals wet and juicy, but he was so big that were still tightly joined. When his rod began to return to its softer state, I asked, “Could we do this again tomorrow?”

“Anytime you want. You should get a shower and go to bed, though; we need to pick berries just after daylight… about four hours from now.”

We agreed to shower together, which resulted in me giving him a titty-fuck… kissing and licking his meat each time he pushed it toward my face. I succeeded in making him shoot another load, most of which I caught with my mouth and swallowed.
We curled up and slept in each other’s arms.

The rest of the weekend was more of the same. We picked and processed eleven, five gallon buckets of blackberries. A friend of Alan’s showed up on Sunday morning with a large, pneumatic press. Between the blackberries and peaches, that press put out more juice than we could keep up with. We cooked and canned jelly all day, except when Larry went into town to pick up some hamburgers.

As soon as his truck left the drive, Alan and I stripped our clothes and I bent over the counter. Alan’s shaft entered me much easier than the first time we’d fucked in his kitchen.
All nine of our Friday and Saturday sessions (plus the one that Sunday morning before Larry arrived) had been in the bedroom or shower; now we were back where it all began, and it was fantastic.
I worked the next week, but made an excuse about a dying aunt for the following week.
When I drove up to Alan’s house, I looked through the carport to the door. The door was ajar and Alan’s big dick was sticking out. There was a small cardboard sign hanging on it that read, “WELCOME HOME!”

On Thursday, after six days of working, fucking, sleeping, sucking and eating, Alan and I were married by the local Justice of the Peace. She gave us a questioning look when she read our ages, but Alan just told her, “We gotta do this. She’s pregnant and her old man is gonna kill me if I don’t marry her.”

Wellllllll….. Although birth control pills are supposed to be 99&44/100 % sure, I gave birth to our first daughter, Alana, eight and a half months later.
That was nine years ago, and we now have three girls.

Every one of them like blackberry preserves better than any other kind.

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