Sexual Education

My early education was supervised at home by a tutor. I had qualified for university entrance by the time I was fifteen, so I suppose they would call me a nerd nowadays. Anyway. when I was seventeen my father decided that I should enter a seminary to finish off my education. Saint Nicholas was renowned for a high academic standard and firm discipline, and moral standards that many academics considered well outdated. And it was a boarding establishment, so I should be seeing my mother only between semesters. I looked forward to a dismal few years.

By the time I entered the college, I had led a cloistered life. I knew nothing about girls and I'd indulged in a limited amount of uninformed discussion about sex, but I hadn't even seen any girlie pictures, so breasts were still bumps in swimsuit advertisements and I hadn't the remotest idea what a woman's genitalia looked like. All of which hadn't prevented me from doing a fair bit of what my few friends called wanking while I was in bed at night.

Some time after my eighteenth birthday I came down with flu, and following the college's health regulations I was isolated in the school sanatorium and prescribed "bed rest", which seemed to be the panacea for most ailments at Saint Nicholas. With so much time spent in bed, I had more time for wanking, because I was the only patient in a room for four. And that was when the school matron caught me.

Matron had only just taken over from the elderly dragon who had been in charge of the sanatorium for years and years. I found out later that she was only twenty seven, but in her severe matron's uniform and with no make-up and severe bi-focals on her nose, she promised to be no less a dragon than her predecessor. Though certainly she was far from sack-shaped like the old dragon: in fact she had an incredibly small waist and her uniform bulged mysteriously at the top top.

But, as I said, she caught me masturbating. I had my eyes closed, and she was in the room before I realized she was there. I looked up to see her standing beside my bed.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, and flung back the bedclothes.

My cock was poking through the fly of my pyjama trousers, and still in my hand. Some of us had indulged in group wanking behind the gymnasium, so I knew that even at eighteen I had a better developed weapon than the others. And this day I'd been working on it for quite a while, so there was no hiding it.

"You're masturbating!" Matron said accusingly. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"Take your hand away. Don't try to hide it." She grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my cock. I willed the offending organ to shrink, but even the shame of being caught and the fear of the consequences couldn't reduce the tell-tale erection.

"Get out of bed, and stand up!" commanded Matron. I stood beside the bed, stooping, knees together, ashamed of the rod that still obstinately thrust out toward her.

"Stand up straight, you're not going to hide it that way." Matron stared at it for a long while. "I shall have to report this You know you can be expelled for this, don't you?" "Yes Matron," I mumbled. I was near to blubbing, but I wasn't going to let her see. "I'll have to think seriously about it," Matron said. "College rules cannot be flouted in this way. In the meantime, I'd better give you a check-up. Masturbation by itself can do you no physical harm, but a sudden interruption like this can have bad effects. Take off your pyjamas and lie on the bed."

She left the room, and I peeled off. By this time the erection had shrunk to a droop that was evidently ashamed of itself. If it wasn't for Matron, I thought, I'd rather have it standing up proudly. It certainly felt better that way.

Matron bustled back into the room, a stethescope round her neck, and drew up a chair. "Not much there for me to examine," she said. "I'll have to see what I can do. Open your legs."

She reached between my thighs and cupped my scrotum in her hand. I expected a rough examination, but her hand was cool and gentle. She kneaded my testicles in her hand, and then took hold of my shrunken cock in her other hand, squeezing it gently and feeling all round the rim. This was like no physical examination I'd ever experienced. I'd never had my cock held by a woman before, or by anyone, and it was a good sensation. I was afraid my cock would start to swell again, and I tried to will it to shrink. But she was massaging it all over, squeezing, rubbing her finger over the knob. It excited me as much as my own fingers did. More. And in spite of anything I could do my cock was swelling in her fingers, and I felt myself blushing with shame.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Matron said. "But it's got to be larger than this for me to examine it. Now relax."

She seemed to know just what to do to give it all the best feelings, and I wondered if maybe she had something similar between her own legs, even though it was popularly supposed that women had something altogether different. Inside a minute she was manipulating a bigger erection than I'd ever managed to give myself. Manipulating? More like masturbating!

"Not bad for an eighteen year old," Matron said, and continued to squeeze and examine every part of my cock and my scrotum. Every so often she stopped and checked my heart with her stethoscope, and sometimes she'd listen and masturbate me at the same time. I'd been enjoying it, but suddenly I was engulfed in another fear. At any moment I was going to cum. And by that time I was capable of ejaculating a pretty fair stream of semen. I had to stop her, and yet I was too shy to tell her she was going to make me have an orgasm.

My dilemma was solved quite suddenly. Without any warning I started to cum, and just as a stream of jism squirted out from the hole in the end of my knob, Matron seemed to change her squeezing so that she was massaging my cock in time to the surges that were controlling it. Almost as if she knew what I needed to keep my orgasm going to the end. I'd never pumped out so many jets of cum juice, or gone on throbbing for so long after the ejaculations stopped. And right till every last throb was finished and I lay back exhausted, Matron squeezed my cock up and down and squeezed out every last drop onto the towel that I hadn't noticed before.

"Well, he seems to be in fairly good shape," Matron said. "One or two little irregularities. Put your pyjamas back on, and I may have to do some more tests tomorrow. Mind you don't start playing with yourself again. I haven't decided yet whether I'll have to report this."

The next afternoon I was sitting up reading when Matron stood beside the bed. "Unbutton your jacket," she said, and leaned over to listen to my heart. The top button of her white uniform was undone, and as she leaned over me it dropped away from her body so that I was able to look down inside. There were two bulges that hung down inside some sort of lacy thing. There was a pleasant perfume coming from her that quite excited me. And then I realized the sight of a part of her body that I wasn't supposed to see was also exciting me, and I felt my cock rising even though I wasn't playing with it.

Matron looked up suddenly at my face, and saw where I was looking. I looked away quickly, and blushed. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I couldn't help it."

"It's not a good idea to get caught looking down women's clothes," Matron said. She pulled down the bedclothes and looked at the cock that was poking aggressively out of my pyjama fly. "Masturbating again, are we?"

"No Matron, honestly I wasn't."

"So what causes this erection then?"

I hung my head.

"So, you get excited by a woman's breasts," Matron exclaimed. "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of. It just means you're growing up fast. A woman's body is designed to excite a man. I've got to give you some more tests, so maybe that'll be a quicker way of getting that penis of yours big enough. Let's have your pyjamas off."

While I pulled off my pyjamas, she went to the door and locked it. Then she unbuttoned her uniform all the way down and took it off. I started to breathe hard, and my cock got so stiff I had to grab hold of it. She was beautiful! The bulges on her chest were pushing out the lacy thing, which I assumed was a brassiere, and they seemed to be practically falling out of it. Her waist was even smaller than it had looked when she was dressed. She wore a skirt thing that covered her legs, but the nakedness of her body above made me want to hold it and feel it. And she had taken off her glasses, and even her face was beautiful.

"You see?" Matron said. "It's ready for me to examine already. Take your hand away from it. I need to see it. And lie down."

She fetched a ruler from a side table, and measured the length of my cock and then the thickness of it. "I think it's grown since yesterday," she said. "Or at least this stimulation is having more effect. Now, have you never seen a woman's breasts before?"

"No, Matron," I admitted.

"There's a lot missing in your education. I shall have to teach you a few things. Now, I'm going to try a little experiment. Hold this ruler beside your penis, and we'll see if what I'm about to do affects the length."

She did something with the fastening of the brassiere and the two halves came apart, allowing her breasts to swing free of their confinement. I expected to see nipples like my own, but Matron had large pinky brown circles that covered the tops of her breasts like swollen pyramids, with nipples in the centre as big as little nuts. She shook the brassiere clear of her shoulders and stood up straight, with her arms above her head. Her breasts were no longer soft and loose, but standing out firmly from her chest with the nipples projecting at their tips.

I gasped, and I longed to touch them and hold them and even suck them into my mouth, and I could feel my cock throbbing as if it would burst. Matron quickly bent over me and looked at the ruler I was still holding. Her breasts were hanging down so close I could reach up and touch them. Even if she reported me, I had to hold them. I reached up and cupped them in my hands, and they were warm and soft and smooth, and they moved in my hands, and I could feel the hard nipples pressing against my palms.

And then I cried out, because the tension in my cock had suddenly become too great, and I felt as if it was bursting apart. I was cumming, and my pelvis was heaving up and down in time to the great surges of ejaculation, and my thighs were twitching open and closed, and I didn't care about Matron or the Regulations as long as I could keep cumming and hold onto those wonderful breasts. And yet I wanted to hold my cock, and squeeze it in time with the spasms that were racking it.

Just as I knew I must give up the exquisite feel of yielding breasts in my hands, and grab hold of my cock until I was finished, I felt a gentle hand close round my cock. Matron was masturbating me, massaging my cock in time to the spasms that seemed to be coming all the way up from my balls, squeezing out the last drop of cum juice, on and on until the last throb had finished.

"Just as I'd expected," Matron said matter-of-factly. "He grew another half an inch. You certainly respond to the right stimulus. And I think you can let go of my breasts now."

I took my hands away in confusion, and Matron stood up. Usually after an orgasm I found my sexual interest entirely dissipated. But looking up at those wonderful breasts, I still longed to bury my face in them and suck their nipples into my mouth.

Matron sat down on the bed beside me, her breasts moving provocatively as she breathed. "Tell me," she said, "if you had a beautiful girl beside you now, what would you like to do to her. Don't be shy. It's important."

I was shy. Particularly since the thing I most wanted to do was what I most wanted to do to Matron herself.

"You've shown me that you're physically very mature," Matron said. "But you evidently don't know much about sexual matters. You need to be educated. So tell me first, what would you like to do to her." I plucked up courage. "Kiss her breasts. Suck her nipples."

"Is that all?"

"I think so. I can't think of anything else."

"You have a lot to learn," Matron said gently. She took my cock between her fingers and caressed it. "Is it really my nipples you want to suck?"

"Yes," I said. "They're the most wonderful things I've ever seen."

"Get up off the bed then," she said, and lay down in my place. "Forget I'm the Matron. Pretend I'm the girl of your dreams. Show me what you'd like to do.

I think I sobbed with relief. I know I fell on my knees beside the bed, and held one of her breasts in my hand and pressed my mouth to the other. The nipple felt so large and hard in my mouth, and I sucked on it and felt the roughness of it with my tongue. And then I opened my mouth wider, and sucked the whole fleshy pyramid inside, running my tongue all over it. There was no taste to it, but the smell of her perfume and her body excited me.

When I paused for breath, I discovered I was instinctively massaging her other nipple between my fingers, and then holding as much of her breast as I could get in my hand and kneading it.

Matron was talking. "Look at me," she said. "Did you know this is as exciting for me as it is for you?"

I was amazed. "No, Matron," I said. "I'm sorry."

She laughed. "Nothing to be sorry about. You've learned the first lesson. Women have the same sexual sensations as men. The second lesson is that when you get pleasure from a woman you must be sure she's getting pleasure too."

"What other pleasure is there?"

"I'll have to show you. Take off my slip," Matron said. I looked bewildered. "This thing." She pulled down the elastic waistline a little.

I pulled at the slip while she raised her pelvis off the bed, and finally pulled it over her feet. I'd been fairly indifferent to magazine pictures of women in swimsuits, but real thighs in the flesh disappearing inside the briefest underwear were altogether different. I was enthralled. I looked higher, and saw her navel winking from the middle of a gentle swell of belly. And higher, to the rose tipped mounds of her breasts. I had never imagined there was so much to excite beneath Matron's forbidding uniform.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Matron said. "Does it give you pleasure?"

"Yes please, Matron," I said eagerly. This was more exciting than any masturbation had been. Except when Matron had done it. My cock was stiff and swollen, and I realised I'd been stark naked all this time and yet I was no longer embarrassed.

"So take down my panties, then," Matron said, "and I shall be as naked as you. Do you like the idea of that?"

"Yes, Matron." I fumbled with the elastic waistband of her panties, shy at the idea of touching her naked flesh and forgetting I had been doing more than that with her breasts. As I slowly pulled her panties over her belly my heart was beating wildly. I was about to see what the others called her "privates," the most private and taboo part of her body. Even men didn't look at each other's privates, except in terribly forbidden wanking circles. And I was going to discover at last what a woman looked like between the legs. Did she have some sort of cock, or was there really something different?

I had no idea that women might have pubic hair, so I was surprised at how much dark hair began to show as I pulled the panties further down. There was a whole triangle of hair ending where her thighs joined. But there was no cock. There was nothing, not even a place to pee out of. I felt cheated, and I pulled Matron's panties right down to her feet. But, cheated or not, the sight of her nakedness, so much of her body normally forbidden to everyone, was still intensely exciting. I wondered if the sight of my nakedness could be as exciting to Matron. But nurses were used to seeing naked people, and anyway I was only a teen-ager. "What would you like to do to your girlfriend now?" Matron said.

I didn't know. Matron's naked body was so exciting, and I felt I wanted to touch it and kiss it, but I was too shy to tell her.

"Pretend I'm the girl of your dreams again," Matron said. "Do whatever you like. And remember, I shall probably enjoy it as much as you."

I wanted to go back to her breasts again, but I supposed I was expected to move on from those. It would be nice to run my hands all over that nakedness, to press my face to it, and, yes, kiss it. I started at her navel, and began to explore, first with my hands and then with my mouth. I put my tongue into her navel, and brushed my lips all over her belly. When I came to the hairy triangle, my mind told me it was wrong to kiss such a private place, but my cock was telling me the very fact of it being so secret made it more desirable. My mouth explored further toward the triangle, and then I had a surprise. There was a cleft in her belly just above the place where her thighs joined, and greatly daring I probed with my finger and followed it till it disappeared between her thighs.

Matron said nothing and made no effort to stop me, so I could only assume it was alright. And then her thighs began to open, further and further. I was appalled at first, that she should be displaying her most private parts in this brazen way. And then my cock took over again, and I knew I wanted most desperately to explore this forbidden land. Her thighs were so wide apart that I could see where they joined, and I was amazed to see that her crotch was split open, with fleshy sort of lips on each side. It looked so pink and naked, and wet, too. I put my finger between the lips, and it seemed to open and my finger slipped inside. I was able to push it all the way in until my palm was against the lips. And then I wondered if this must be her anus, but there was so much room inside and it was so wet and slippery.

Matron was sitting up, so I pulled my finger out guiltily. But she was smiling. With her glasses off her face, and her clothes off her body---in fact stark naked --- she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

She got off the bed. "Lie down," she said. As soon as I was stretched out my cock was standing up out of my crotch like a pole, and I began to feel shy again. But only for a moment. Matron was climbing onto the bed, kneeling over me, her naked crotch just inches above my face. "This is what a woman's genitalia are like," she said. "It's called a cunt." I'd used the word, but I hadn't known really what it meant.

"It's an opening that goes all the way into my belly, and its just the same size as a man's cock---a bit bigger than your's. Do you understand what it's for?"

My cock felt as if it was going to explode if I didn't hold it tightly, and I felt an overwhelming urge to find out what it would feel like to have it held tightly inside that cunt. Suddenly I knew for certain why my cock grew so big when I looked at her naked body, why she had a hole in her cunt the same size as my cock, and why my instinct was making me ache to put my cock inside her. Matron was pulling the lips of her cunt apart with her fingers, just above my face, opening the hole so that I could look up inside. "Is your cock desperate to be masturbated?" she asked.

"Yes, Matron."

"Well, my cunt is feeling just the same as your cock. There are nerves inside that need just the same sort of stimulation. She's desperate to be filled with something hard and hot that rubs all those nerves." She shuffled down the bed until she was kneeling over my belly, then she took hold of my cock in one hand and squatted down till my knob was rubbing between her cunt lips.

"This is where a man's cock is meant to go," she said, and sat down so that I could feel my cock sliding up inside her cunt till her ass cheeks were sitting firmly on my thighs. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before, so physically exciting and completely satisfying, as if being inside her body was all I could ever want to do.

Then Matron kept kneeling up and sitting down rhythmically, making my cock pull out of her and then go right back up inside her again. The inside of her cunt was squeezing my cock and rubbing the sensitive skin on my knob and stretching the underside, the part that always made me cum. I was gasping, trying not to cry out with the exquisite agony, and at the same time I was aware that Matron was making the same noises.

"This is called---fucking---it does the same---to me---as it does---to you," she gasped as she pumped me in and out. "I'm going to---cum---too!"

But I was past caring about Matron. My prick was out of control, exploding inside her. I could feel the cum juice squirting out. It must have been pumping my jism right up inside her belly, and I wondered if she'd be able to taste it in her mouth. And then Matron gave a little scream as if it hurt her, and as she squirmed round and round and up and down she kept whimpering, "Fuck! Fuck! Oh god, I love it! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

By the time I was finished cumming, Matron seemed to have finished, too. The wonderful masturbation feeling was gone, as it always was after I'd cum, but this time there still remained the knowledge that my prick was still inside her body, and I was looking up at those beautiful breasts with the protruding nipples that she'd actually let me suck. And then she leaned forward, and my prick fell limply out of her cunt, and I felt disappointed that it was finished. But Matron was pressing her breasts down against me, and then pressing her mouth against mine, forcing her tongue inside as if she was going to fuck my mouth.

"You do it to me," she whispered. And she taught me how to kiss. It wasn't as exciting as fucking, and yet by the time she climbed off me I could feel my cock beginning to swell again.

Matron kept me in the sanatorium for a whole week more, just to make sure I wouldn't spread germs amongst the others. And when I left, she had her ugly bifocals on, and she looked at me severely. "Remember, you could be expelled for masturbating. I haven't made up my mind yet whether to report this."

Seduction and Pizza

When she answered the door, blonde hair dripping, wrapped in a clean white towel that barely reached her upper thighs, Ewan was momentarily struck speechless. In the five months he had been working part-time as a pizza delivery driver, he had been called to this apartment many times. Each time, he had greedily feasted his eyes on the lady of the house, and often – back home alone at his own apartment after his shift – had laid on his bed and stroked himself to incredible climaxes while fantasizing about having her lying naked beside him.

She looked to Ewan to be about three or four years older than his own twenty three years. Blonde, she had sky blue eyes, full, pouting lips, and an open and ready smile that seemed to mix innocence and seduction in an amazingly erotic combination. Ewan had often noticed her great body, too – with gentle curves in all the right places, and breasts of just the right size, not perfect in the traditional sense maybe, but incredibly sexy to him. She was usually dressed comfortably in a sweatshirt and jeans or sweatpants when she answered the door, which only added to the appeal for Ewan, who preferred his girls casual and comfortable. Her voice, sweet but slightly deep and sultry, completed the picture in his mind.

Now she was standing here in nothing but a towel, smiling sweetly and apologizing for not having the money ready for the pizza Ewan held.

“I called in my order just as soon as I got home from work. I thought I’d have time to shower and be dressed before you got here,” she was explaining. “I guess I just misjudged”.

“That’s OK,” Ewan stammered. “I’ll just wait here while you get the money. That’ll be thirteen fifty towel…ummm, I mean TOTAL, sorry…” Ewan blushed scarlet at his slip, and the beautiful blonde broke into a broad grin.

“Towel, eh…??? I wonder what YOU’RE thinking, young man,” she said playfully. “I was going to ask you to come in out of the cold while I go get your money, but I’m not sure you can be trusted, now”. Cocking an eyebrow at Ewan and looking him up and down, she asked with mock sternness “Can you be trusted, pizza boy?”

Ewan knew when he was being joked with, and joined right in with a big, dimpled smile. “The name’s Ewan, not pizza boy, and I can be trusted, yeah. The question is, can you be trusted, lady?”

“Amanda’s the name, and I’ll try to restrain myself, Ewan,” she said, closing the door behind him and turning toward the kitchen, “be a dear and set the pizza down there on the coffee table, would you? Have a seat on the sofa and make yourself at home, I’ll just be a minute”.

Walking back toward the kitchen, Amanda thought about her exchange with Ewan. The kid was interesting to her, that was for sure. He had something of the artsy type about him, with his long, shaggy hair, tall but slight build, goatee, and well-spoken voice. She figured him for twenty two or twenty three, about five years younger than her own twenty seven. Not traditionally handsome, she supposed, but then she had always been attracted to the offbeat type. Her own long-time boyfriend, Jason, was a painter for example, and had a similar look. “Well, at least I’m consistent in my taste in men,” she laughed to herself as she took a twenty dollar bill from an envelope in the silverware drawer. Turning back toward the living room and the guy waiting there, she pointedly tried to not think about the largish bulge she had glimpsed in Ewan’s cargo pants when she had inadvertently glanced down at him when he had arrived.

Amanda was amused to find Ewan flopped comfortably on her sofa, slouched back spread-legged among the many plush throw pillows, remote control in hand, when she re-entered the living room. “Wow, big guy,” she joked, “when you make yourself comfortable, you really make yourself comfortable, huh? I’m surprised you didn’t just strip down to your boxers and take a nap. You look too comfy to move”.

“If I were REALLY making myself at home, I’d strip all the way down, and not just to my boxers”. Ewan tipped Amanda a sly but somehow boyish wink, and she felt a sudden weakness in her knees.

“Hmmmm…well maybe some night when your shift is over, you could come on over and get REALLY comfortable then. I love few things more than entertaining naked pizza boys”. She returned his wink with a conspiratorial one of her own.

“Excuse me for saying so, Ma’am, but I wonder what your boyfriend would think about that,” Ewan drawled lazily, rising to his feet. “You remember him, don’t you? The guy who’s picture you have plastered all over this place…? The one I’ve seen in the room behind you sometimes when I’ve made deliveries here…?”

Smiling broadly, Amanda shot back “Oh, you mean Jason. He doesn’t mind if I entertain the occasional pizza boy, as long as he’s here to chaperone.”

“Is that a fact?”, Ewan asked, surprised and momentarily unable to think of a witty response. “And just how closely does Jason like to chaperone?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Pretty closely, I guess. He’s thorough like that,” Amanda said with her lips set in a deadpan expression, though her eyes were wrinkling at the corners with amusement at Ewan’s quickly reddening face “but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t mind…he’s a great chaperone. Very permissive.”

“That’s all right Amanda, I’m a big boy. I don’t really need a chaperone these days.” Ewan smiled uneasily while reaching for the twenty dollar bill Amanda was holding out to him. “But thanks anyway. Just let me get you some change for that, and I’ll be on my way”.

“No change is required, Ewan. Just keep it. I feel badly for making you wait for me.” As the delivery boy passed through the door and out onto the porch, he heard Amanda say softly behind him, in a voice that made him immediately question what he had heard, “And, by the way Ewan, I noticed just what a big boy you were right away, so you don’t have to remind me of that. It’s just sad that a big boy like you wouldn’t want to hang out with a big girl like me”. Turning to see what Amanda had meant by that comment, Ewan was amazed to glimpse her standing there facing him, backlit by the living room lamplight. Hands on hips, towel puddled around her ankles, nipples poking out jauntily and invitingly, and a big grin on her face, she reached out and swung the heavy apartment door closed behind him. As he reached for the door knocker, prepared to knock again, the porch light was suddenly turned off, and the door’s window shade was pulled down. The message was unmistakable, and Ewan turned to walk to his car, nursing a budding erection and a head full of very confused thoughts.

As the door swung shut, and she reached to turn off the porch light, Amanda laughed softly to herself, amazed at what she had just done. She didn’t know what had possessed her to drop her towel like that, but the look on Ewan’s face had been priceless. She had seen surprise, shock, and lust mingled there in the instant before the door closed, and Amanda was strangely pleased that she had been able to get such a reaction from the guy. Unable to resist, Amanda pulled back the shade on the door just a fraction, and watched as the dazed pizza boy walked back to his car. She giggled again as she saw him glance back, glance up and down the quiet street to make sure no one was watching, then reach down to his crotch and adjust himself awkwardly before opening his car door and folding himself into the driver’s seat. “He’s going to have an uncomfortable ride back to the shop,” she thought, chuckling to herself.

Still nude, Amanda padded to the sofa and curled into a comfortable position in the corner, with her legs tucked back underneath her. Reaching for the pizza box, she suddenly sat back instead and, in one easy motion, spread her knees apart just a bit and inserted the first and second fingers of her left hand into the cleft of her thighs. Tentatively, in an exploratory fashion, she gently rubbed in a circular motion, and was surprised to find just how wet she was.

“Bad, bad boy Ewan,” she whispered, and smiled as she easily found the rhythm she always used when pleasuring herself, “bad, bad, naughty boy….”

Using mainly slow, circular strokes, punctuated by longer, lingering ones up the length of her pussy, Amanda carefully worked herself up further and further, enjoying the sensation as her clit became progressively more and more engorged, and more and more sensitive in turn. Switching hands occasionally, and rubbing her inner thigh slowly and tenderly with her free hand as she worked, Amanda repeatedly brought herself to the very edge of a climax, then backed off. An expert at fingering herself, she knew just how to manipulate her womanhood to achieve the maximum sensation, without allowing herself to slip over into a climax until she was ready.

As she progressed, she fantasized about Ewan, with his rag-tag clothing, and crooked grin. He was like a younger, leaner, more boyish version of her own beloved Jason, and she thought it was that fact that was making her so crazy about him. She wanted to bed the boy, and she wanted Jason to watch. She wondered what Jason would think of the suggestion. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it might not be all that hard. Though their sex life was excellent to put it mildly, they were both experimental by nature, and she and Jason had talked many times about the possibility of bringing another person or persons to their bed, as a watcher if not as an actual participant, and she thought somehow that Jason might be agreeable to considering her new pizza-wielding friend for that role.

In the meantime, her vision was clouded by the image of Ewan as he had been when she returned from the kitchen with his money. Reclined in the same bed of pillows in which she now lay, white t-shirt pulled up just a bit in the front to reveal a tight, taut stomach, long, coltish legs spread wide to reveal the outline of what looked like a truly spectacular cock. Even through the baggy green cargo pants, Amanda could discern that the guy was in possession of a bulge to be proud of. She moaned at the thought of releasing that manhood from its cotton prison, and the pleasure she could give the boy.

Amanda remembered what Ewan had said about enjoying being naked, and imagined her own hands playing over his entire body. Wiping the shaggy black hair away from in front of his eyes to reveal the green flashes of color she had immediately noticed there, then moving her nails down his neck, to stop to tweak and play with his nipples. Then down his stomach, naturally flat and not muscle-bound as was so popular with college-age guys these days. Reaching his pubic hairs in her mind, she mentally curled her fingers into them, and then took hold of his massive, beautiful cock…

The orgasm was immediate and took Amanda completely by surprise. At the thought of taking Ewan’s remarkable tool into her hands, her body bucked and shuddered violently, and all her expert control was lost in a flood of ecstasy. Her soft moaning turned to passionate calls of lust, and her fingers wildly worked her pussy and clit, fucking her as if with a mind of their own, and bringing her to ever more intense waves of pleasure. A gush of warm, slippery fluid rewarded her efforts, and still the orgasms rolled through her. Two became three, and three four, until she was lost and the count of them meant nothing to her. Random sexual images flashed through her mind. Ewan’s smile just a short time ago, and the tented look of his cargo pants. Her Jason’s own not-unsubstantial cock as it approached her hungrily waiting mouth. Her own image, as she had glimpsed herself once in the bedroom mirror, writhing uncontrollably on her bed as she fucked herself with one of her many dildos. It seemed for a moment as if she would never stop coming, that this one orgasm would carry her away into sweet and total oblivion. Then, finally, the wave crested, and began to break, and after a while she lay back spent into the softness of the pile of pillows. Tears streamed lightly down her face, as they sometimes did after a terrific sexual experience, and she laughed through the tears at what a great job she had done on herself, with Ewan’s help.

“I haven’t seen the last of you, my sweet pizza boy,” she whispered to no one in particular as she drifted off into a nap, pizza forgotten, everything forgotten in her sheer delighted exhaustion. “No, not even close…”