My Museum Piece

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The museum at which I am a docent embarked on a monumental task. We were to archive historical manuscripts and place them into basement storage. At the same time we were to prepare for a new exhibit of Renaissance art that was loaned to us from another museum. The task was overwhelming, one that had triggered the retirement of my coworker, a woman in her early sixties. We needed a person with more stamina and had recruited a student from a local college.

Margaret was a freshman who had just begun her studies. Bookish and serious, Margaret nevertheless had looks. Her long red hair and baby blue eyes were captivating. Her smile could light up a cave.

Along with beauty, Margaret possessed the gift of gab. She would keep me apprised of goings on in her life. She admitted to not being athletic, preferring the Bard to baseball, Longfellow to lacrosse. Margaret loved animals, especially dogs. In time we became coworker buddies.

One day the subject of boyfriends came up and I asked Margaret if she was seeing anyone. Her face fell and reddened a bit.

"It's alright if you're not. Your grades should be your priority now, not boys," I counseled.

Her blush subsided. "There's a guy I like," she confided.

Silence ensued.

"Would you like to tell me about him?"

"His name is Patrick. He's kind of quiet and nerdy."

"Where did you meet him?" I didn't mean to pry, but I sensed she wanted to talk and needed a push.

"At the animal shelter where I volunteer."

"Does he know you like him?"

"No. But he likes me. Or at least he did."

"He did? I don't understand."

Margaret hesitated. "He asked me to accompany him to the volunteer appreciation banquet. I was noncommittal."

"Why?"

"Too shy? A coward? I wish I knew," she replied, her voice forlorn.

I sympathized with her and my male protective instinct kicked in. "Stop beating yourself up. You're going to fix this."

"How?"

"Do you have his phone number?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You're going to call him right now. You're going to apologize if you hurt his feelings. And you're going to tell him you'd be delighted to accompany him to the banquet."

"I can't do that," she pleaded. "What if he hangs up on me?"

"He won't." Margaret was still too innocent to understand that with her beauty, guys would accept her apology and forgive her.

We were alone in the basement, out of earshot of everyone. I pulled her phone from her pocketbook.

"Unlock it." She held it up to her pretty face and her home screen appeared. Scrolling through her contacts, I found a Patrick.

"Is this him?" Margaret nodded.

I pressed the icon and her phone dialed. I stepped away to allow her some privacy.

Margaret spoke coquettishly. She acknowledged her impoliteness of being apathetic to his invitation and apologized. Margaret continued by informing him that she'd love to go to the banquet with him if he would forgive her and if he was still available. All seemed to go well; Patrick soon had Margaret laughing and they stayed talking for half an hour.

Margaret rang off all smiles. "Patrick will pick me up on Saturday evening. Thank you so much for insisting I call him."

~~~

Margaret and I had grown close over the months and I invited her to my house for lunch Saturday, the day of the banquet. Margaret spoke little as we ate. She looked distraught.

"Why the worried face?" I inquired as we finished eating.

A litany of reasons poured forth. "I have no experience with guys. None."

"That's no cause for concern..." I tried to reassure her, but she cut me off.

"I'm an eighteen year old virgin, a total nerd," Margaret cried in exasperation. "My friend has had two boyfriends. I've had none," she lamented. "I'm going to die a virgin."

"Margaret, Patrick will fall in love with you. You'll make him fall for you."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" she demanded.

"You'll be yourself. And you'll use feminine guile along with the assets that nature provided you."

Margaret glared at me. "I don't want him to love me just for sex. I want him to love me for who I am."

"I'm certain Patrick will love you for who you are, but compatibility in intimacy goes a long way toward fostering love."

"There's more to a relationship than sex, you know."

"Of course there is. But the hard truth is that people want satisfying intimacy from their partner. You don't want to lose Patrick due to naivete' in love. If you don't get him, some conniving hussy will. She'll be the winner; you'll be the loser."

She pondered that for a moment. "Fine. But that doesn't solve my problem."

"Margaret, this isn't puppy love. You're on the threshold of womanhood. You need to know how to engage with men."

"What do you mean, 'engage with men?'" she asked defensively.

"Margaret, when interacting with men a woman sometimes needs to act like a wounded kitten. Other times a bitch. And sometimes she needs to act like a whore."

Margaret was aghast. "Well I never in my life!"

I ignored her contrived umbrage and continued. "I'll teach you how to be the girl Patrick always wanted." I left unsaid 'and the whore he's dreaming of.'

The room fell silent, my words hanging in the air, Margaret stoically contemplating.

I stood. "Come with me," I ordered.

I took Margaret to my bedroom and drew the shades. Taking her in my arms, I kissed her lips.

"Undress me, Margaret."

Her mouth dropped open.

"Unbutton my shirt," I insisted.

Margaret hesitated, but my counsel was sinking in. The shock on her face turned to resolve; no conniving hussy was going to steal her man. Margaret stepped tentatively forward and reached for my top button.

"Take your time in foreplay. Good loving is never rushed."

Margaret unbuttoned my shirt and removed it. I had her pull off my undershirt too. I ordered her to remove my pants. She paused, and then unfastened my belt. She needed help with the button, but soon had me in my boxers.

"These too," I beckoned.

Margaret complied and I sprang out. She just stared. I took her hand and placed it on my erection. She gripped it tightly.

"Go easy, Margaret. Most guys prefer a gentle touch." Margaret eased off.

I let her explore, placing her other hand under my scrotum. Margaret's touch grew delicate.

"Gently scratch the back of my scrotum." She gave a tentative smiled and obeyed.

"That's perfect," I complimented as she glided her nails behind my testicles and held my erection in her warm hand. I let her indulge a while before continuing.

"I'm going to demonstrate how a gentleman should undress you."

I proceeded tenderly in order to allay her anxiety. I unbuttoned her loose top and, reaching around, I unclipped her and removed her top and bra together. Margaret crossed her arms over her breasts, her face a crimson red.

"Don't be ashamed."

Margaret gave a shy smile and slowly dropped her arms, revealing a perfect pair of young breasts. They were round, pert, and topped with generous nipples. They'd be the envy of any girl.

"Margaret, your breasts are beautiful. They should be your pride and joy."

"They're too big. I don't like when the guys stare. They cause me embarrassment."

That explained why Margaret always wore loose sweatshirts and tops; she was sheepish about her breasts. She'd get over that sentiment soon enough.

"May I?" I asked, lifting my hands. She gave a slight nod.

I gently caressed Margaret's breasts. They were perfect to the touch; abundant in size and of impeccable firmness. I wanted to hold her from behind. "Turn around, sweetheart." She about faced.

Pulling her to my naked body, I caressed her left breast by lifting it with one hand and gliding the fingernails of my other hand over it. I fingered her nipple and then gave her right breast equal love.

"How is that, Margaret?"

"Very gentle."

"This is how a man should treat a woman's breasts. Only gentle squeezing." I demonstrated with a small squeeze. "And gentle caresses," I added, her breasts still in my hands. "Don't ever let a guy manhandle you. Insist on respect." Margaret nodded assent.

"Let's move on. We'll come back to your breasts later." I had plans for those tits and was going to teach Margaret how to use them.

I removed Margaret's pants, leaving her panties in place. We kissed a while, allowing Margaret to become comfortable in her near-nakedness. Before long, I laid her back on my bed. I kissed her some more, working down to her tummy, and then placed my index fingers inside the elastic of her panties. I hesitated. Margaret slowly lifted her hips off the mattress and I gently removed her panties.

Ignoring Margaret's wet vagina for now, I mounted her and kissed her mouth. From there I slowly kissed my way south to her neck, her breasts, her flat tummy, down her legs to her feet, and then back up to her mouth.

"So gentle," she purred.

Heading back south, I paused to kiss each nipple, and arrived at her vagina. Her soft, feminine scent wafted into my nose. Restraining a primal urge to dive right in, I kissed her inner thighs, then her labia majora, then pecked each of her labia minora. Pulling Margaret open, I planted dozens of gentle kisses between her lips. After inflicting an agonizing wait on her, I pushed my tongue into her opening and slowly dragged it up her musky slit.

Margaret gasped and shuddered. She gripped my hand while I meticulously continued up and down, slowly increasing pressure, luxuriating in her taste. After some minutes I pulled up on her hood and exposed her clitoris.

Margaret's young white nub was as beautiful as she was. Distended and expectant, I showered it with tenderness. Light kisses became gentle licks. The licks became more focused and soon Margaret had her first orgasm via cunnilingus. Her toes curled and she gripped my hands intently, exhaling lungfuls of air through clenched teeth. This being Margaret's first, I refrained from administering multiples and let her come down.

After dozens more kisses to her open vagina, I moved up, mounted her, and pressed my erection on her tummy.

"Do you practice birth control, Margaret?"

"I started on the pill a week ago. It should be effective now."

Should be? I didn't care. If I got Margaret pregnant I would marry her. Today.

I slid the head of my erection up and down her slit a few times before alighting at her opening.

"Some bleeding and discomfort can accompany the first time," I warned. "I'll go slowly." Margaret gave a pained nod.

Cautiously, but inexorably, I pressed into her. I wasn't going to rush; Margaret was a sweet girl and deserved the best. She would always remember her first time and I was determined to make it a fond memory.

I delicately entered where no man had gone before. Margaret's unsullied flower was so tight it almost hurt to enter; it seemed her vagina sought to cling to its chastity. But I persisted, and slowly her virgin flower yielded to my manhood. With continued gentle perseverance, I arrived snugly in place.

I had brought Margaret to my bed a girl; she was now a woman. I brushed her hair with my hand and kissed her lips. "How is that, sweetheart?"

"It's nice," she feigned. I could tell from her face there was some discomfort.

Slowly, very slowly, I began to work in and out, acclimating her tender vagina to the touch of a man.

We never left the missionary position; my orgasm soon burst forth, introducing to Margaret's chaste vagina its first payload of semen.

I waited for the aftershocks to subside before withdrawing. I planted my blood-streaked erection on Margaret's tummy and placed her hand on it. She instinctively pet it with caresses.

"You were wonderful, sweetheart," I cooed. "Congratulations."

"I'm glad it was with you, Tom. Thank you for making me a woman."

Those were the sweetest words I had ever heard.

I reached for some tissues and held one to Margret's oozing vagina and shrouded my erection with the other. We lay in the afterglow and eventually rose.

"Do you have a panty liner with you, Margaret?" She produced one from her bag and handed it to me. I had her step into her panties as I held the tissue in place.

"You're going to seep for a while and you may spot for the next 24 hours," I informed her as I traded the tissue for the liner.

We cleaned up and I helped Margaret dress.

As Margaret left, we embraced. "I have lots more to teach," I advised.

Margaret kissed me. "I'm looking forward to learning."

~~~

Our second session began with Margaret expressing her gratitude.

"I'm so lucky," Margaret explained. "You made me a woman the way it should be done; in a safe environment, in a home, in a warm bed, by someone who relieved my anxiety, who was so gentle with me. My friend's first time was on a cold night in back seat of a car parked behind a big box store."

"You deserve the best, Margaret. It was my pleasure to provide it to you."

I took her hand and led her to the bathroom. We showered together, then slid under the covers. I began my instruction with a doctrine.

"Rule number one, Margaret: a gentleman puts his lady first. You being a lady and me a gentleman, my first priority is to see that you're satisfied." She liked that philosophy.

"Rule number two: never, ever be selfish in lovemaking. True love means giving to your partner. Don't tolerate selfishness, either." Margaret nodded.

Having explained that, I worked my way down to Margaret's lovely vagina. This being my second visit, I took more liberties. I played with her labia, taking each between my lips, tugging them and marveling at their elasticity. I opened her legs and put her feet in the air by pushing on the back of her knees. Pulling her open, I used her pussy as a pillow, resting one cheek on it, then the other, kissing between her lips as I alternated left cheek and right.

Margaret's clitoris beckoned and I turned my attention there. Intermingling kisses, licks, and my index finger, I brought her to a rousing finish, all the while keeping my tongue inserted and my mouth enveloping her vagina.

This time I didn't let her down so easily; I kept the pressure on, bringing Margaret to successive orgasms. She tensed and exhaled deeply. I held her in place, keeping her in her throes.

After an eternity, I let her down. She was spent. Tears were in her eyes and her emotions were askew. She spat out phrases in staccato.

"You made me cry...I came in your mouth...I never knew..."

I pulled her into a spoon position, drawing her butt into my groin. I enveloped her in my arms and held her snugly. "It's alright, gorgeous. Just relax," I whispered. "You're flooded with endorphins."

"What are those?" she asked in a soft voice, still panting.

"They're hormones that are released during sex, especially during orgasms. They give a feeling of well-being. Savor them."

I kissed Margaret's hair and neck in the minutes it took her to compose herself. When she calmed we made love.

~~~

In our next session, after pleasing Margaret, I decided to put her to work.

"I'm going to teach you how to give oral sex to a guy."

"You mean a blowjob," she said as a statement, not a question.

"Now that you put it that way, yes."

I sat on the bed leaning back on the headboard and had Margaret lay on her tummy.

"Take my erection in your mouth," I instructed. Margaret obeyed.

"Now take it deep." Margaret moved further down.

"Deeper." Margaret kept pushing.

"Now come back up and as you do, glide the back of your index finger along the bottom of my erection."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Now repeat. Go deep. Deeply as you can."

Margaret struggled and finally got her lips around the base of my erection.

"Hold it there," I instructed.

Margaret kept me fully engulfed, all the while pushing and stretching her lips.

"Come back up, remembering to glide your finger up my erection."

Margaret was learning. She was able to take me in fully, hold me there, and then back off to just the head. She spent some minutes practicing, refining her technique as she lay on her tummy with her feet in the air.

"Am I doing it right?" she asked, looking up at me, my erection in her hand.

"You're doing great." She was getting me near.

"My friend told me if the girl does it right the guy will finish in her mouth. You'll do that, right?"

"I promise I will."

"And then I'm supposed to swallow it?"

"Your friend is smart. Yes, you swallow it."

"Okay, I will." She took me deeply.

That's all it took. I came with a fury, the throbbing and the gushes seemingly unceasing, all the while holding Margaret's head down while I spewed a healthy load onto the back of her throat.

I finally finished ejaculating. "Make sure you swallow all of it, Margaret."

"I did," she choked. She came up and kissed me. "I always wondered what that would be like."

"How was it?"

"Sexy."

"Just be sure to always swallow," I insisted.

"I will. I liked it."

We took a break for some pillow talk and then were ready to continue. I remained on my back and ordered Margaret on top. I pointed my erection at the ceiling.

"Margaret, climb aboard. Position yourself and slowly settle on me." She did and took me all in.

"Is this cowgirl?"

"Yes. This is cowgirl."

"Giddy up!" she teased.

"Your vagina looks even prettier when stuffed," I observed.

She looked down, staring. "It does," she agreed.

Margaret rode slowly up and down, finding her rhythm.

"Now spin around without disengaging. That's reverse cowgirl."

Margaret drew her feet under her and gracefully stepped around. She settled back down.

"This is sexy," she declared.

"Now lean forward. Grab my ankles and ride me. I'm going to watch the show and admire your ass."

After a few moments I grabbed her by her hips.

"Come back here, sweetie" I instructed and pulled her into the sixty-nine position. She pushed her vagina, warmed by the friction of our movements, into my mouth.

"Our lovemaking tastes delectable," I observed.

"Heavenly," she mumbled, my erection tickling her tonsils.

I enjoyed Margaret's vagina and then instructed her to move back up. She did, her graceful hands maneuvering my erection to her opening and then slowly settling. We repeated several times.

Margaret enjoyed alternating positions, reverse cowgirl to sixty-nine. With this treatment I could no longer hold back. I gushed a healthy orgasm in reverse cowgirl position. Margaret pressed into my spasms, holding my ankles as she did.

I was finished for now. Margaret rolled off and we basked in the afterglow.

~~~

Our fourth session began with a recap and then progressed to new experiences.

"Let's review, Margaret. Thus far we've covered cunnilingus, intercourse, and a blow job, as you refer to it. What is your favorite?"

"I love all of them, but I need to learn more about intercourse. I want you to teach me more positions. And I want to practice my blowjobs."

"Before we get to that, I want to teach you something new." Her smile lit up her face.

I had Margaret lie on the bed. Mounting her, I placed my erection between her healthy globes, squeezed them together, and enjoyed their abundance.

I broke to apply some lubricating gel, then took Margaret's hands and guided them to the sides of her boobs.

"Scrunch them together for me." She did. I reinserted myself in her cleavage and resumed exploiting her abundance.

"This is called titty fuck, right?"

"That's correct."

"I love this!" Margaret raved as she held her boobs tight. "You're fucking my tits."

Watching Margaret accommodate me with her pretty smile while holding her ample gifts caused me to gush suddenly.

"Oh, my..." Margaret gasped as my streams adorned her neck and her cheek. Some landed in her hair.

Margaret held my erection between her scrunched boobs, then gradually released it.

"I guess you liked that," she observed, petting me with feminine delicacy.