A Stimulating Language Class

He'd never considered himself to be a naïve person, but when she opened the door he began to reconsider this.

"Good morning, Jack." She smiled and dropped her weight onto one foot. The smell of her perfume seemed to embrace him, a mixture of the ocean and gin.

"Good morning, Patricia." They kissed each other on both cheeks.

She said nothing more and led him inside her apartment. Although it was almost midday, she was wearing a pair of black leggings and a tight, white vest top. They walked down a dim, cool hallway into her living room, a large and bright room.

"Is it a day off or are you working from home?" he asked.

"Working from home." She jiggled her upper body playfully and smiled. "No suit, no office, no meetings. Coffee?"

"Yes, please." He sat on one of the tall chairs at the breakfast bar and mumbled to himself: "No suit."

He watched her prepare the coffee. She had such a large, shapely ass that the material of her leggings was turned transparent where stretched at the widest curve. And when she stood in the blocks of sunlight that slanted through the windows, he could see the outline of her knickers. Some people said that a woman's ass reminded them of peaches; hers reminded him of an enormous pumpkin. It jutted out from her small frame. He could imagine her having a daily routine of a thousand pre-breakfast squats. She turned back toward him to fill up the kettle. While she poured the water, he snatched glances at her breasts: heavy, taut and the colour marble. She reached forward for the tap, and her breasts jiggled together slightly, like two lovers playfully knocking into each other. Jack pushed himself closer to the breakfast bar: his erection was sliding to its full length along his inner right thigh.

While the kettle began its gentle hissing, she sat on a chair on the other side of the breakfast bar.

"How you have been?"

"How have you been?" he corrected her.

Looking above his right shoulder, she repeated the words in their correct order.

"I've been fine," he said once she was looking at him again. "Busy. Lots of classes and working on my Masters. Have you had a busy week?"

"Oh, yes. A lot of work. But today I'm working from home because I have to pick up my husband this night."

"Tonight or this evening."

"Yes. This evening."

She swivelled round and dropped from the chair, her bare feet made a gentle tapping noise on the rose-coloured tiles.

Their coffees prepared, she suggested that the move to the dining room table. The sun rising over the Iberian Peninsula made the table's white surface blinding. With black dots darting like flies across his pupils, he watched Patricia lower a set of venetian blinds. They sat down, him at the head of the table and her on his right, a new A4 notepad and a pencil in her right hand.

"So, today, I thought we could continue working on your language for the presentation." She nodded. "Before that, let's go over some of the vocabulary from the previous class."

Patricia fidgeted in her seat before sitting with her arms resting on top of each other on the table's surface, pushing slightly against her breasts, raising them an extra inch. Determinedly, Jack traced his fingers along his notebook to a group of new words they'd stumbled upon in the previous class. While he at a student's hours, he was determined to be professional. So, he looked from vocabulary list directly to her eyes, as though her breasts weren't threatening to tumble from her top onto her forearms.

"What's the word for three months?"

"Trimestre."

"And the word for redimiento?"

"Performance."

Jack continued to test her recall of the vocabulary. Although she was a successful woman, the head of the human resources department of one of Spain's leading newspapers, she was prone to regressing to teenage behaviour during their classes. She began to swivel in her seat, pick at her nails and glance at her phone. After giving an answer to one of his questions, she would pull her ponytail to her nose and sniff it. Normally their classes took place in a café close to her office, but they'd rearranged for her apartment. Comfortable in her surroundings, she began displaying a greater lack of interest than usual. After twenty minutes had past and the sun had risen beyond the orange umbrella that served for shade on the small, planet-littered balcony. Patricia got up from her seat to raise it. She worked a small handle in a clockwise motion and the venetian blind moved upwards. When she'd finished she readjusted her leggings, pulling them up at the waist, bringing the silky material deeper into her ass crack so that her checks were more defined beneath the material.

"Water?" she asked after turning around.

"Yes, please," Jack said, quickly looking back down at his notes.

She returned to the table with two glasses of water, each with two large ice cubes clinking in the glass. She'd let her hair down, and it fell over her right shoulder and swirled outward on her right breast. He could see thee faint outline of her nipples, hardened by the freezer's cool breath. The knowledge that her nipples were hard, pressing against the material, caused his cock to twitch to attention again. He could feel its warmth easing along his inner thigh.

As she apologised for sending a text message, he was thinking about naivety, especially her insistence on meeting in her apartment. There had been weeks of harmless flirtation, culminating in a selfie of her taken at the beach. In the picture he could the see the impressive swell of her breasts. To add a faint professional context, she'd added the caption Sunbathing today. Not taking the sun; a reference to a minor language point from a previous class.

She huffed and said in way of explanation: "My husband."

"Don't worry, it's fine. When you're ready we'll work on your presentation."

She slapped the phone screen down on the table's white surface.

"Do you think we can do something else?"

"Of course."

"I'm working so much, and I enjoy our time together. Maybe something a bit more fun today."

"For example?"

"Something not to do with business."

"Ok. Travel? Leisure time? The news? Family?"

She tittered, and he knew that her disruptive side was imminent. She brushed at the table's surface, moving imaginary crumbs before she said: "How about...sex? The vocabulary. I want to learn to talk about sex. It's much more interesting, do you think?"

"Don't you think," Jack replied mechanically, emphasizing the negative question tag after an affirmative statement. He swallowed and didn't dare more or change his expression.

There was an awkward pause. Patricia readjusted herself in her self and sat upright, very prim and proper. She resembled a grade A student on the first day of a new term, ready to learn, eager to please the teacher with her attention and wit. She was smiling, and Jack noticed the faintly bright sheer or recently applied lipstick.

"It's not in my curriculum," he began, "but I'm sure we can improvise."

"Very good." She laughed again, the same churlish sound, loading with meaning. There was an unmistakeable flirtatious element to her look, rapaciousness and desire. He felt like something greedily coveted, an animal in the sight of a hunter's scope.

"Umm, what words do you want to begin with?"

"Let's begin with the body parts. I know penis and vagina. But how do you say them in a more natural way?"

His face reddened as he answered: "Cock and pussy."

"Like a cat?"

"A little cat. A baby cat."

"Pussy. Pussy." She repeated the word slowly, carefully, exaggerating the two syllables, the p was soft explosion of air leaving her lips and the tail of the word leaving her painted lips in a smile.

Jack was mesmerised by her lips and the glint in her eye, but he cleared his throat and encouraged her to say cock.

"Cock. With a k sound, like cake."

"Cock. Cock."

Did she just lick her lips? Did I just see that? Jack's brain was as befuddled as it was during his teacher training in a backwater school in rural Morocco, when 25 twelve-to-fifteen years olds became overexcited with the arrival of the tall Englishman. For a completely different reason he was once again at a loss for how to proceed. Luckily, Patricia had taken control of the class.

"And what do you call this?" She rested her hands against her large white breasts. The slim gold band on her ring finger was an aberration of bright colour against her pale skin and the white material.

"These. What do you call these? They are your tits." He coughed. "Your big tits."

She repeated the words. Then she stood and half-turned her body away from Jack to reveal the bulbous swell of her hips, thighs and bottom. "And this?"

"Your ass."

"My big ass?" she laughed. "You don't have to answer that."

"Your lovely ass. Your sexy ass."

"Sexy. I like that word. Your sexy smile. You have sexy shoulder. Did you know that?"

"Sexy shoulders. I don't think I did. Thank you."

He was sweating, and he began to worry that he was being awkward. He gulped down some water. When the drink was finished, he sat back and breathed in deeply while Patricia was looking at the far end of the room formulating he next question.

"Coger is to fuck?"

"Yes."

"Mamar?"

"To suck. To suck cock, for example."

She nodded in studious understanding, as though he was teaching her the names of office equipment.

"And anal is sex in the ass?"

"Exactly."

"And when you...pshhh?" She gestured with the hands the eruption of a volcano.

"Ejaculate? Come."

"Like the verb: to come?"

"Yes."

"Dios mio."

Jack shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I know."

"Can I show you something?"

"Of course."

"Come with me now.

"Now." He voice was reedy with panic. He'd had a solid erection ever since she'd sat back down with stiff nipples. He was wearing a tight pair of jeans, and if he leaned backwards in his seat he could see the peak of an impressive tent a few inches from the bottom of his fly.

"Yes, now."

He had what he referred to as a fuck it moment. He stood up in front of her, his erection clearly visible beside his notes about dry vocabulary and certain tenses and prepositions she was having difficulty with.

Her eyes swept down to his crotch and then back up to his eyes. She smiled, and led them from the living to the back of the apartment. They entered her bedroom. The smell of her perfume was strong, but it didn't mask the powerful masculine scent of her husband. His sports equipment, weights and a medicine ball, were neatly piled in the corner. His tennis racquet and a white polo shirt were on a small bench beside his side of the bed. While Patricia sat on the bed and opened a drawer of her bedside table, Jack began to feel his nerve leaving him. The compressing sensation as he walked from the dining room to the bedroom, had stunted his erections. The sight of her husband belongings, and his smell, had all but erased it.

Patricia said: "What do you call this?"

In her right hand, being lifted like an exhibit by a clerk in a courtroom, was a large black dildo.

"That's a...that's a dildo." He could feel his voice's lack of masculine resonance in his throat. He sounded highly-strung, almost breathless. He could also feel sweat breaking out on his brow.

"Dildo. Have another name, no?"

"Sex toy."

"A sex toy. Que bueno. I like that. Sex toy." She looked at the rubber object and then put both her hand along its eight-inch shaft. "Sit down, Jack."

Gratefully, obediently, Jack sat beside Patricia on the bed's soft white duvet. While sitting down and looking at her small hands and painted nails gliding along the length of the black dildo, Jack's erection returned, a powerful animal burrowing through the tough material of his trousers.

"What verb goes best with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do I make it on myself? Do I fuck it myself?"

"You fuck yourself with it. Or you use it on yourself."

"Do you have something like this for boys?"

"No."

"Does your girlfriend?"

"No. I don't have a girlfriend. Does your husband have something?"

"He has me when I'm drunk or his colleague when he's away on business." Patricia moved to the headboard and sat against two pillows. She was still holding the dildo but was no longer looking at its black surface. She was looking at Jack. "If I suck cock. You suck pussy?"

"I eat pussy. But you can also suck on it."

"Yes. And you must. It's an amazing feel."

"Feeling."

"Tell you what. I learn best from doing. Let's practice some of our new words. Do you want to see my suck this big dildo?"

"I do." Jack leaned back on the bed. "I never expected this today."

Patricia smiled and glided the head of the dildo across the peaks of her breasts. His cock felt like it was being smothered in his jeans.

"Can I take my cock out while I watch?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything because she slowly pushed the dildo between her lips. He watched her painted lips turn inward as the first two inches of the dildo slipped into her mouth. She eased the dildo out of her mouth. The black rubber was slick with her saliva.

Jack unzipped his jeans and, with some effort, moved his hard cock through the opening. With the dildo pressed lightly against her lips, Patricia smiled and said: "Big cock." She continued to suck the dildo. She closed her eyes, wrapped her fingers around the base and began to rhythmically move it in and out of her mouth. Jack, meanwhile, was leaning backward, slowly tugging at his cock. Precum was oozing from the tip of his penis like a shimmering jewel. He watched how the muscles in her throat worked at she pushed the thick toy into mouth, how her saliva turned the dildo slick and reflective and how she'd occasionally stroked her pussy through the leggings with her free hand, a slow circle across her clitoris.

She performed for his for a few minutes, and toward the end her eyes were fixed on his cock. She sucked faster and deeper and she was pushing his ass into the quilt.

"Now the real thing," she said. Patricia indicated for them to swap positions. When he was resting against the pillows with his hands by his side, his students squatted on her knees and began wanking him. "I'm going to suck your cock. Is that correct?"

"Sounds good to me."

"It's very big. I hope I don't, how do you say...?" She made a choking sound with her mouth in wide O.

"Choke."

"Choke. I hope I don't choke on your cock. It's much bigger than my husbands. And much more strong."

"Hard...er." His 'er' was more a sigh. Patricia took his head in her mouth and sucked at the tip very slowly over and over, letting the sensation build. She relented and squeezed the base of his cock, torqueing more blood into his apple-shaped head. She lapped her tongue against the velvety ridges of his shiny head and then licked him from where his saggy scrotum reached the base of his shaft all the way to the tip. She repeated this again, and then she began to jerk him off and suck at his entire head and the first few inches. She took his scrotum in her free hand and cradled his balls, occasionally pulling on them, teasing them away from the pink pillar above.

"Fucking hell," he said.

She paused in her labours. "Yes, that's the language I want to learn: what you say when your horny and feeling pleasured. Say it again." Once again, she licked him from the base to the top and then enveloped almost half of his cock in her small sensual mouth. Jack pushed back into the pillows and grabbed handfuls of the duvet. Patricia began fucking his cock with her mouth. Within seconds, his veiny shaft was covered with her foamy spittle. She was making a faint gagging sound, but despite the discomfort that her closed eyes suggested, she continued to plunge her mouth down his cock, continue to smear it with more saliva. She stopped and looked up at him, the mascara she'd decorated her dark Spanish eyes with now slightly smeared.

"Don't you ever orgasm."

"Come, remember," he said, slapping her tongue with his helmet. "Not yet. I want to eat your pussy."

She stood up from the bed and took off her white top. Her breasts were as big as he'd imagined, and they only sagged slightly once outside the hugging material. Her nipples were full and round, the size of shot glass and the colour of ripe plums. They were also hard. She pulled down her leggings, the material caught on her large thighs. She'd mentioned that she used to do a lot of dancing, salsa and bachata, and he could tell by the wide curve of her thighs that she hadn't been lying. Her legs were strong and supple, her calves toned and powerful. Once again, they swapped positions, pausing to kiss. He could taste his cock on her lips and tongue, a powerful and musky taste, the very essence of testosterone.

She lay back and spread her legs and told him to eat her pussy.

Jack could smell the oniony smell from a foot away. He began by licking at her inner thighs, making small stroked as he moved toward the warm source of the smell. Patricia wriggling her bottom into the duvet and ran her fingers through Jack's closely-cropped hair.

When he reached her spread pussy, he dropped his restraint and lapped at her wetness and sucked on her labia, gently stretching it away from her body. She groaned and gripped his hair tighter.

"Fuck yes," she said, the jokey pretence forgotten. She pushed her crotch into his face, forcing his nose and chin against the lower and upper parts of her pussy. Jack started licking the length of her vagina, making sure to flick his tongue over her pulsing rectum, a tiny movement that caused her to sign and yelp in pleasure.

"Dios mio."

He continued to eat her pussy while pressing his raging erection into the bed. Within minutes, his face was covered with his saliva and Patricia's juices. He could feel her large thighs trembling against the side of his head, an orgasm gaining speed. He pulled his face away and smiled.

She was wordlessly impeaching him to continue. Then she looked down and saw his enormous erections pointing directly at her face. To Patricia it appeared angry, condemning. She was so lubricated that in one single push, he eased his long, thick cock deep inside her. She clung to him and muttered about the feeling and the size in Spanish. She lifted her legs up to allow him access to a deeper part of her insides. He began to fuck her slow and hard while they kissed. Jack could feel his scrotum banging against her ass hole: it was a wet and cool sensation because of how aroused she'd become and how much fluid was leaking from her pussy.

"Fuck me more hard."

"Harder."

"Yes, fuck me harder. Use it."

"You pussy feels amazing."

"Fuck me teacher. Am I your favourite student?"

"Yes. Yes, you are!"

"I'm your slutty student. Fuck my pussy. Big cock. Oh...my god."

"You are my slutty student. You like my cock don't you. God, I love your big tits."

He did. He lifted Patricia's legs more and leant against them, using them to stabilise his upper body while, like a relentless piston, he plunged his cock into the vagina from directly above, not considering that he might be hurting her but solely concentrating on driving his engorged cock as deeply inside her as he could. He eyes rolled back, and he could feel her nails digging into his back. She quickly began trembling and let out a long, anguished cry. "Siiiii." The word continued for ten sentences, then her breath caught, and her entire body trembled beneath him. He relaxed the force of his thrust but continued to grind inside, edging his exploratory head against her trembling inner walls as though he were giving her vagina some dynamic stretches.

He pulled out and watched her labia slowly readjust, drawing back into her vagina after being forcibly spread for ten minutes of relentless fucking. He quickly dipped her tongue back into her sex and finished the job he had started before, bringing her to another orgasm with his mouth. It was less a complete orgasm and more an aftershock of the first one. She trembled again, but was smiling while she did so. The flavour of her juices had changed. Now he found it sweeter, like a congealed juice of a strange fruit. She groaned warmly, and sighed in complete bliss. Jack licked at the wetness smeared on her inner thighs while she ran the fingers of one hand through his hair and played with her nipples with the other.