Pete & Leah Learn the Ropes

This is the first installment in a series of stories I previously posted at another site. I've rewritten them somewhat to publish here. These stories focus on the mutual sexual awakening of two late-blooming virgins, graduate students in their 20s, in a period before the internet era, when sex chat took place by phone and not by texts or video calls. All characters are over 18.

This first installment is a slow-burn buildup to a subsequent story that will get much sexier.

I'm LEAH. Here's how I remember first meeting Pete

:

I was interested from the minute I saw him. Tall, well-built, broad shoulders, slim without being thin. He had a thick head of blond-brown hair with red tints and a boyish habit of sweeping the hair from his forehead when he was concentrating on something or someone. An eye-catching long Roman nose and an infectious laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

He laughed a lot and somehow managed to be very masculine -- a farm boy who played football in high school, I'd learn -- and at the same time soft-spoken and gentle. The only thing that turned me off was the obligatory grad-school beard he'd grown to look grave and grown-up.

But when he started going down on me, I'd find the beard and mustache had their attractions, too.

His hands stood out. Farmers' hands -- large, competent, with long, thick sensitive fingers. I'll admit that when I looked at them the first time we met a corner of my mind wandered to thoughts of what they might do to pleasure my pussy, which was showing interest as I looked.

He had on that typical male grad student's uniform, an old gray-and-blue-checked tweed jacket that had seen better days and tight brown corduroy pants that showed off an impressive bulge.

I'll admit, I looked.

Pete and I shared a friend, Sally, who got us together. She was in Pete's grad school program, philosophy. He was studying philosophy of religion, if you can believe it, with plans to teach at college level.

My parents had a successful art-and-antiques business, and I was majoring in marketing and art history, double-track program. Sally thought we'd be a good match, so she invited me to one of the wine and cheese soirées their program hosted on Friday evenings and introduced us.

So, yes, I liked him right away. Something clicked when we met and told me that underneath that quiet demeanor was a hot guy. From our first meeting, I wanted to get to know him better. A lot better.

PETE here. This is how I recall our first meeting

:

My classmate Sally wanted me to meet her friend Leah, so she invited Leah to one of our school's Friday wine gatherings. I was interested from the outset. More than interested, to be honest. Though Leah came across as shy, something seemed to click with us right away and I sensed that under that reserved façade, she was hot.

She was an exotic beauty, way out my league, slim and graceful with a long waist and pert breasts that weren't large but stood out due to the poised way she carried herself. Lustrous black hair, intriguing, intelligent dark eyes, and skin tinged with hints of mahogany that made her noticeable in lily-white Canada.

Her parents had emigrated from Suriname to Canada around the time she was born. She was an interesting mix of Dutch, English, and Chinese, I'd learn. She definitely stood out in a crowd.

Her shyness was understandable since she was crashing a party for students in a program in which she wasn't enrolled. After Sally introduced us and we had chatted a while, I made a point of walking around the room with her from one cluster of classmates to another, introducing her, hoping that would put her at ease.

Why I sensed this, I don't know, but right away, I thought that if that knee-length woolen skirt and silk blouse were out of the picture, what was underneath could be -- well, I'll use that word again: hot. I'll admit it: I felt some stirrings down below as I wondered what was under that skirt when we walked around the room.

I had never experienced such an instant attraction to a woman before I met Leah.

I was determined to get to know her better. A lot better.

LEAH: I was delighted when Pete ended that evening by asking if I'd like to have coffee with him on the weekend. I pretended to look at my schedule to see if I could possibly fit in some time the next day, and set a rendezvous with him at a little student hangout near the university.

We found we both went there sometimes, though we hadn't seen each other there. It was a laid-back place where it was easy to talk, and students liked it for that reason.

PETE: I asked Leah if she'd be free for coffee on Saturday or Sunday, and we made a date for Saturday afternoon, a little place students liked to go, quiet and conducive to conversations or even studying. I told her I'd meet her there mid-afternoon and was looking forward to getting to know her better.

LEAH: I got there first that Saturday afternoon and snagged a table by a window. When Pete arrived, he surprised me by greeting me with a peck on the cheek, then pulling his chair up to the side of the table so we weren't facing each other but sitting next to each other, knees nearly touching and faces close. He had on those same tight brown cords.

Again, I'll admit it: my eyes feasted on what they showcased as he sauntered towards the table I had claimed. I had worn a different silk blouse than the one I wore the evening before, and--daring for me -- no bra. I felt my nipples stiffen as I watched his bulge when he walked across the café to greet me.

PETE: I was nervous. Leah was model material with her exotic slim dark looks and that lustrous mane of black hair. I was nervous but excited at the same time.

I really wanted to get to know her, spend time with her, see what it felt like as I ran my fingers through her hair when I kissed her, what the silk blouses and woolen skirts she liked to wear might be hiding.

And, holy fuck, were those her nipples I could see perking up under the blouse she had on today? I hoped my eyes wouldn't bore a hole in the silk.

LEAH: Pete pulled his chair up close enough for me to smell him, the tiny hint of musk men's skin gives off, especially when a woman interested in a man and a man interested in that woman sit near each other.

PETE: I could smell Leah's perfume, her hair. I imagined -- or did I? -- that I could even get a slight scent of her panties as I leaned in to talk to her. I imagined -- or did I? -- that the enticing scent I seemed to smell might be her pussy exuding the odor of arousal.

My cock was as hard as a steel bar as I swept my hair from my forehead and leaned over to ask how her day had gone so far.

LEAH: I couldn't help it. As soon as Pete sat beside me, our knees nearly touching, his beautiful large hands with those long thick fingers cradling the cup of cappuccino I'd ordered for him, my pussy started reacting and I started to get wet.

My panties were going to be soaked if I couldn't control myself better. And wool skirt or no wool skirt, any man with a good nose might well detect what was going on down there.

PETE: We talked for hours. Leah told me interesting stories about her parents' life in Suriname, where they had a business importing decorative items, furniture, and artwork from Asia. They'd expanded the business when they moved to Canada. She had a brother a year or so younger and they both lived with their parents.

LEAH: I asked Pete what life was like growing up on a farm in the American Midwest with six siblings, and he said it was pretty boring in comparison to being a grad student in a big cosmopolitan city. He did say one thing that piqued my curiosity, however, and sparked more flashes between us -- and I'm pretty sure it was designed to do that.

He said that growing up on a farm was an education all on its own, and no one had to teach him about the birds and the bees, when he could see the facts of life unfolding every day all around him with animals on the farm. Then he smiled, his eyes crinkling as he did so, and brushed the hair from his forehead as he studied my reaction.

I was falling for him.

PETE: I was falling for Leah. I asked her if she'd like to have dinner next Friday evening so we could continue to get to know each other, and she said she'd love that. She suggested a little hole-in-the-wall dim sum place her parents liked, which I actually knew, since it fit within a grad student's budget.

It was only a short drive from the flat I shared with another student, a guy in my philosophy program. I told Leah I'd pick her up at her parents' place around 7. My father had given me a farm truck to knock about in while I was off studying, and I hoped she didn't mind riding in a pick-up truck. She said she'd find that intriguing.

LEAH: We made plans to meet next Friday evening at the Red Door, my parents' go-to dim sum restaurant, and Pete told me he'd pick me up in his truck. Then, as he helped me put my coat on, my earring caught on the collar of my coat and, as I was struggling to get it untangled, he said, "Do you mind?" and put his hand to the side of my face and carefully worked the earring loose from the coat.

As he did that, I could swear that he took an extra moment to trace the outline of my ear and run his fingers along my cheek, maneuvers not necessary for removing the earring from my collar. The touch of his fingers on my skin was like fire.

PETE: I managed to get a brief feel of Leah's cheek and ear just before we left the coffee shop, as I helped her on with her coat and untangled an earring that had caught in the coat collar. Talk about an instant hard on.

Okay, not ashamed to say this: as soon as I got back to my flat, I rubbed one out thinking about the slight scent of feminine arousal I thought I had detected as I sat down next to her and about her hardened nipples pushing against her silk blouse. How I was going to get through the coming week, if thoughts like that preoccupied me instead of my studies, I couldn't say.

LEAH: That night when I was lying in bed thinking about my time with Pete earlier in the day, I found myself so horny that I worked myself up to two orgasms. Here's where the story may get weird for some of you: I was a virgin before Pete and I got together.

That didn't mean I didn't have sexy thoughts and sexy desires. It didn't mean I didn't masturbate--and often.

I knew every in and out of my labial folds, vaginal opening, and clit, had explored them often to become acquainted with what they could do for me and how I liked them to be touched and worked. I had learned how to give myself satisfying orgasms by teasing around my clit with one hand while I inserted two fingers of the other hand in my juicy hole, occasionally twisting and pinching my nipples as I got myself off.

I had two great orgasms that evening thinking about Pete's long, thick fingers and how they had felt against my ear and cheek, his boyish habit of brushing his hair back and studying my face, that tantalizing bulge in the tight cords he liked to wear.

PETE: Here's the thing: Believe it or not, I was a virgin. And I had no idea how to tell a woman that, especially one as exciting and beautiful as Leah.

Oh, I knew about sex all right. You can't grow up on a farm and not see sex all around you every day. It's just

there

. I not only knew about sex, but even though I grew up in a devout conservatively religious farm family, I thought about it a lot.

But the thing is, nobody talked about sex in the world in which I grew up, not in church, not in school, not at home. There was total silence at home and in my family's church circles about any subject related to sex, as if, by not talking about it, we could pretend it didn't happen, even when my parents had seven kids, for chrissake.

If you can believe it, I went right through high school without having sex.

I discovered masturbation only after a girlfriend in my last year of high school, both of us 18, jerked me off in my truck one night after we'd gone out for hamburgers and then parked and did some necking as we sat in the truck cab. She had more experience than I did, and after I'd kissed her and felt her up a bit, she asked if she could see my cock and play with it.

I told her to be my guest. Before I knew it, she was showing me how she could jack it and make it cum -- and that's exactly what she did.

I learned from her how to work my hard cock, and from that time forward, I became a pretty eager masturbator without any other sexual experience to speak of. My experience up to meeting Leah was largely limited to Mrs. Rosy Palmer and her five daughters.

I kept them busy with visits all the time. And I was ready to do more. If Leah would let me....

LEAH: Since I'd never had sex, my one worry about getting involved with Pete was about how to let him know that. I thought he probably had a lot more experience than I did. That had to be why he brought up the subject of the birds and the bees and what anyone growing up on a farm sees all the time.

Of course, I masturbate. Who doesn't? Like anyone, virgin or not, I have needs and when my pussy needs attention--and it does frequently--I give it the attention it needs.

One thing was for sure after I met Pete: when I played with myself after meeting him, it would be Pete, and those long thick fingers and what I thought those tight cords were hiding, that would be on my mind while I pleased my pussy with my fingers.

PETE: That week seemed to be an eternity, as I waited for that Friday night date with Leah. When Friday evening finally came around, I could hardly contain my excitement as I drove to her parents' house to pick her up. I'll admit it: My cock was already rearing its head in my pants.

To help me deal with my nerves, I thought I'd bring along a small bouquet of flowers, simple white daisies, to give to her mother when I met her. Maybe her parents wouldn't suspect some of the dirty intentions I had in my head about their daughter if I presented myself as the nice, polite young man arriving at their door with flowers for our first date.

LEAH: I couldn't wait to see Pete again. My pussy was sending signals of interest for the entire week as I looked forward to that first date. Not knowing if we might have some alone time after we had dinner, or what might happen, I decided I'd wear the only really sexy pair of panties I had.

They were a tiny lacy white pair with a sheer crotch that I had bought, hoping some day I'd have a boyfriend to show them off to, and kept hidden in the back of my dresser drawer. Just putting them on for this evening made my moist pussy tingle with anticipation.

PETE: Leah's parents seemed nice, a bit reserved and formal. Her father did seem to be studying me as they met me at the door, trying to size me up and divine my intentions for his daughter. I hoped he had no way to see inside my head and see the x-rated clips involving Leah that were playing in my head.

Leah introduced me, I politely shook hands with her father and offered the flowers to her mother, and escorted Leah to the truck. She looked and smelled absolutely amazing, so much so that I wondered how I could focus on the road and drive safely to the restaurant.

LEAH: I was almost shaking with excitement as Pete walked me to his truck, opened the door, and helped me inside the truck, "accidentally" getting a feel of my ass as he got me settled on the high truck seat.

After we had driven off, he turned to me and said, "These seats are so big that I can hardly see you over in that corner. How about scooting closer to me so we can talk better?"

I did just that, sitting next to him as he reached an arm around my shoulder and put his cheek next to my hair, inhaling its scent. "You smell incredible," he said, and gave me one of his winning smiles.

PETE: We got to the Red Door and the host led us to our table, but I think eating dim sum was not the first thing on Leah's mind or mine. With her Chinese ancestry, she knows dim sum inside out.

She introduced me to items I had never tried before, making the selections with impressive ease from carts as they came around. It was an amazing meal, but with the erotic energy flowing between the two of us, I could have eaten sawdust and found it appetizing.

LEAH: It was fun to introduce Pete to many more dim sum delicacies than the fried eggrolls and pot stickers he already knew. When the cart came around, I chose some siu mai, cheung fun, har gow, cha siu bao -- nothing too exotic like chicken feet, but new for Pete.

He didn't even know how to use chopsticks. It was fun to teach him to use them. That gave me a chance to get my hands on those gorgeous fingers of his, to show him how to grip the chopsticks and bring food to his mouth.

I even picked up some shrimp har gow and fed them to him with my chopsticks, telling him that some of my girlfriends joked about their resemblance to testicles, and that dim sum did have a naughty subtext for some people, with its moist, sticky textures and testicular shapes.

Pete said maybe that sexy subtext was why he liked it so much! Well, maybe not the ball shapes, he said, but the moist, sticky textures, which he had to admit he really craved.

PETE: We joked about how dim sum has a sexy dimension to it, and how both of us were turned on by eating it. That gave us a chance to make some hot jokes about balls and pussies, hot, sticky, moist pussies, when we weren't using those worlds but were pretending we were "only" talking about har gow and cheung fun and siu mai.

If that erotic banter had her pussy reacting as much as my cock was reacting as it tried to tear through my pants, then her panties had to have been soaked. And something told me they were.

LEAH: Pete asked for the bill and paid it, and then helped me back into his truck. Then he said, "We could go for some dessert, if you like. But maybe we ate so much dim sum that you'd be interested in going to a quiet place I know where we can park and talk some more in my truck?"

He had told me previously that because he shared a flat with another student, it was a bit awkward to invite me over there, where we'd be forced to talk in a tiny sitting area where his roommate might or might not be watching television. Parking and talking in the truck sounded ideal.

Especially if I was right in assuming that "talking" was a code word for what

really

might take place as we sat in his truck....

PETE: Between Leah's parents' house and the dim sum restaurant there was a quiet back street next to a park. Across from the park was a construction site, so the street was very private for anyone using it to park and "talk."

I knew the street because I often jogged in that park, and in the evening, I saw cars parked along that street with couples sitting in them, couples obviously doing more than just sitting and talking.

That's where I took Leah after that first date. When we arrived, there was only one other car pulled up next to the park.

As I stopped the truck, I told Leah this was like a ritual in the rural community I grew up in, guys parking in their trucks with girls, where a couple could have private time and space to talk and get to know each other, and I hoped that would be agreeable to her.

LEAH: I knew exactly what Pete meant when he talked about parking. I couldn't have been happier with that plan. As we drove to the parking spot, I sat right next to him on the truck seat, of course, and this time, as he put his arm around my shoulder, his hand moved several times to my breast, caressing it just lightly enough that the caress might have been a mere unintended brush of the breast -- when we both knew that wasn't the case.