Richard's Education

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

*

Richard closed the window, but not fast enough. Louisa had seen both the headline and photograph over his shoulder.

Woman Attacked at Conference

, it read. Mark Wolfe, the man who had followed Louisa around at that same gathering, grinned from the right side of the screen. It was the picture in the conference materials she had given to the police.

His lover was looking kind of green around the gills.

"I'm sorry..." Although Richard wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.

"It's not your fault." Louisa sat down. She didn't look so good.

Richard put his hands on her knees. "Sweetie, I have an idea, and I hope you'll say yes."

That distracted her. She focused more on him than on the events of the past few days. "Okay, provisionally, yes. What have you got in mind?"

* * *

"Let's line

UP!"

bellowed one of the black belts. He clapped his hands sharply, twice, and took his place at the head of the line. Richard and Louisa looked lost as children on the first day of school. Someone wearing a yellow belt caught Richard's eye and pointed to her right. The coupled fumbled their way into place.

When the line was formed, the black belt swept his eye down the ranks, then faced the Korean flag at the front of the room. Everyone else did, too. Richard and Louisa followed along.

"Charyot!

Pbaro

. Kyuki-yeh da-hyo kyung-yeh." That was what the foreign language sounded like. The black belt bowed to the flag, then continued: "Sabum nem, kyung-yeh." He bowed to the old man who stood front and center, facing the class.

The old man returned the lead student's bow. Then he issued warm-up instructions with the energy and authority of a military instructor. The newcomers broke a sweat faster than the other students, but the old man worked them hard; soon everyone's upper lip was damp.

Halfway through the warm-up, a late student approached the edge of the classroom, bowed, and stepped onto the mat. Richard's mouth fell open in shock. It was his father!

The instructor slotted his eyes toward the latecomer, but otherwise gave no acknowledgement. Evan West took his place at the end of the front row with the other black belts.

After the warm-up, the instructor clapped his hands twice and called for the class to practice their forms. Richard and Louisa did not have much time to waver in confusion; the teacher pointed to one of the black belts.

"Miss Crane, teach the white belts to fall," he instructed.

The young woman jogged over to them and led them to the back of the room. She bowed and shook hands with each of them in turn.

"My name is Stephanie." She proceeded to demonstrate falling and slapping the mat. When the couple had progressed to her satisfaction, she introduced them to simple throwing techniques.

This kept them busy for the remainder of the hour. Richard did not have even a few minutes to look around and see what his father was doing. The class ended as it had begun, with a line-up and expressions of respect.

Evan approached his son. "Richard. Louisa," he greeted them. He shook hands and made a slight bow. The physical greeting seemed to be customary in this place.

"So how are things working out?" he asked politely.

Richard had told his parents that he was going to move out and get a job when he left college. He had briefly mentioned his living arrangements with Louisa, but nothing else. Typical of many young adults, he hadn't kept in touch with his folks.

"Fine," he said.

Louisa sensed the tension between the two men. "I'm going to get cleaned up. See you in a few." She lifted a hand to her former PTA colleague. "Good to see you."

"Nice to see you," he replied and bussed her on the cheek.

Richard frowned at his dad's familiarity with his date. He didn't especially like the reminder that his girlfriend and his father were peers.

As Louisa left the mats, Evan mentioned to his son that his mom would really like to see him.

"Aw, you know. Been busy."

"So why don't you come to dinner?" Evan pressed.

Richard couldn't think of a reason to say no, especially when his dad said Louisa was invited, too. They kicked around a couple of dates. All the while, Richard was thinking,

This is going to be one awkward evening

.

* * *

Louisa didn't look especially pleased when Richard mentioned the invitation.

"You look unhappy."

"I know. I know, I'm sorry," she wrung her hands.

"Is it the difference in our ages?" he asked gently.

She sighed. "You know it is. Here you've got your whole life ahead of you and I'm just some old babe who..."

He cut her off with a kiss. She yielded to the fiery tingle that never seemed to go away with him — with them. His lips breezed over her cheek while his hands lifted over her ribs toward her breasts. He pressed her backwards until she was literally against a wall.

"I can't think when you do that." Her complaint was a coo of pleasure.

"I know what you're thinking."

"Oh yeah, what am I thinking."

"What all women think about. You're thinking about what to wear for the party."

Louisa smirked. "OK, mind-reader."

"And I have a special treat to help you get ready."

"You do, do you?"

His eyes flashed with mischief and desire. "Right this way, you old babe, you."

She slugged him in the shoulder.

"Hmm, you're pretty tough for an old babe. I bet you'll make yellow belt any day now."

He led her down the hall to the bathroom and told her to stop in the hallway. "Now before we go any further, take off your pants."

She laughed, "Are you joking?"

"Nope, off they go." With that he began peeling off her sweats. He squeezed her ass and told her what a nice ass she had.

"If this is your idea of getting ready, we're never going to get out the door." "Oh yeah — yes — eventually we will." He knelt down and pushed his face into her panties. "Mmmmm...pink. I love you in pink."

He held her thighs while he rubbed his nose all over the cotton. Now she put her hands on his shoulders for balance while she moaned in pleasure at his touch.

"Oh, baby — oh, god, Richard — okay, I don't care anymore. We'll go."

He tugged at the elastic with his teeth. "Yep." A few chestnut curls peeked out. He caressed the top of her triangle.

"Oh...oh..."

Tug, tug. Richard put her panties on a southbound plane. He lifted one ankle out of the puddle of clothing at her feet. "Spread your legs for me."

He didn't have to ask twice. Louisa leaned back against the drywall and enjoyed her lover's mouth. His breath was a warm wind between her legs. Her pubic hair made a demure shield. She was just closing her eyes when he pulled away.

She looked down. "Did you bring me here just to tease me?"

"No. See this?" He lifted a lock of reddish-brown hair.

"Yes." Her eyes glowed as she guessed his intentions.

"Now how nice would this feel..." he leaned forward and laid a passionate kiss just above her clit, "...if my lips..." kiss "...and my tongue..." kiss "were against" kiss "your bare" kiss "skin."

Louisa stared in fascination at the hot young man who had turned her life around. "You are so goddamn sexy," she told him softly.

Then she stepped around him and slammed open the bathroom door. "

All

right! Let's get this party started!"

Richard chuckled and hopped up from the floor.

He took her by the hand. To the right of the sink he had arranged several items. There was a razor with a heavy metal handle, the old-fashioned kind. A large mirror lay face down on a piece of velvet. Louisa put the tip of one finger on the bottle of baby oil. A dreamy look came into her eye. "The first time I ever made love, my partner massaged my breasts with baby oil," she said.

If possible this knowledge made him even more aroused. "Really."

She sighed happily at the memory. "Yeah." Then she laughed, nervous, but fascinated and excited. "Where do you want me?"

"Right up here." He pointed to the left side of the sink where the marble countertop ran for several feet. He placed a towel so her bum wouldn't get cold. She stepped on the chair he had put there earlier, sat on the vanity and turned around to face him.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

In response, she smiled and leaned back against the glass. She spread her legs. "Please, Richard. Shave my pussy."

His cock was rock-hard in his sweatpants. "Okay." He licked his lips and picked up the mustache scissors.

He started in left field. The first curls fell at the snip of the scissors. Working from left to right, he trimmed a neat row across the top of her triangle. She watched his hands, and his face. He glanced up and met her eyes. He gave her a grin and his eyes twinkled. "Are you sure nobody will notice?"

"Don't stop," she said firmly.

"I won't stop," he promised. For a moment the only sounds were the snip, snip, of the scissors, and their breathing.

He kept working his way down. Gently he took one lip between his thumb and forefinger. His thumb felt the wet heat. He moved the brush around in the mug, working up a lather. "Spread 'em again, sweetie," he spoke with affection. Willingly she complied.

He held his breath for a moment, then let it out. "I think you'll like this." He painted the warm lather onto her close-cropped pussy. Louisa moaned. He saw her nipples harden. He kept swishing the brush, laying thick suds on her private parts. "Oh, god, that feels so good," she breathed. "Don't stop."

He leaned in to steal a kiss. "Much more to come, baby," he assured her. He started in with the antique safety razor. He had put a fresh blade in it that morning. Carefully he stroked a downward path, again starting at the top left. He felt ready to weep, he wanted to fuck her so badly, but he held steady. Bit by bit the pale skin emerged. Louisa was breathing hard. He glanced up, registered the flush in her face. "Soon, soon," he told her. She licked her lips, watching his movements in hot fascination. "Uh huh."

She stared at the handle and he guessed her thought. With a knowing look he gently poked her with it. She groaned.

"Feel good?" he asked softly.

"Nice," she gritted. "Oh, you tease me so bad."

"You like it." He swished the razor in the hot water. "Now I need you to hold still."

Gently, carefully, he eased the razor over the dainty cleft. She was unmistakably swollen with desire. He concentrated on making the moment last. The effort was exceedingly difficult. He wanted her

now

.

At last he drained the sink and ran hot water onto a cloth, wiping away the traces of lather. "Mmmmm," moaned his woman.

"Look," his voice was hoarse. He held the hand mirror between her legs. The reflection showed the place that had long missed daylight. It was like peering into a seashell, the kind that gets pinker the deeper you look.

They looked in the mirror at her exposed crevice. "Oh, god," her voice cracked. "You've made me new again!" Louisa gasped and for a moment teetered on the edge of tears.

Richard embraced her. Her legs were strong around his hips. He could not think of words to say. How could it be that this moment was even more intense than when he had given her his virginity? Yet it was so. His heart turned over in his chest.

"Louisa..."

The sharp pinnacle of his sex could wait no more. Later, he would have no memory of taking off his pants. Wildly he stabbed her. The sight of his cock penetrating her naked pussy drove him into a frenzy. Her cries made a lusty duet with his grunts.

He didn't know if he was making love to her or fucking her blind. It was both.

* * *

Louisa's dress for the dinner party was black and strappy. Three strands rose to each shoulder, criss-crossed in back, and fanned into evenly spaced rays along the saddle shape in the back. Her breasts rode high and her waist nipped in; she looked a decade younger than she really was.

Mostly what gave her the youthful appearance was not the dress, but the sparkle in her eye and the flush in her cheek. No make-up can emulate the face of a woman in love.

Richard feasted on the sight of his woman. She was lovely and lit from within. Unable and not wanting to resist, he lifted her onto a low bookcase and stood between her legs.

She held out her palms to prevent his kiss. "Don't. I just finished my lipstick." She was smiling at him though, fluid and warm in his arms.

He lifted her dress. "Well, you're not wearing any lipstick under here, I hope."

"Wicked." But her eyelids drooped in sultry desire as his hand explored her undergarments.

"Mmmmmm...." he growled in his throat and lowered his face to rub at her thighs.

Louisa gasped. His clean-shaven jaw was dangerously near her clean-shaven mound, and the thought of that silken skin contact made her chest heave with anticipation. She put her hands on his shoulders.

"Stop. We'll be late."

He gave her an impish grin and decided to tease her. Beneath her dress, his hands firmed their grip on her hips. "So what?" he asked softly. "How bad could it be?"

She leaned forward as if to kiss him but teased him as well, skimming past his cheek to whisper in his ear: "Later."

"Okay," he sighed, and lifted her down. "But I'm going to hold you to your promise."

"See that you do," she sassed, and they put on their coats.

* * *

Evan and Agnes were dressed up, too, but Louisa clearly stole the show. She looked less like a woman having dinner with her beau's parents — more like a date for a New Year's Eve party.

Evan lingered as he kissed her cheek hello. The smile on his wife's face was faint. "You're looking well, Louisa," she trembled.

"So are you. It's nice to see you again," replied the guest.

Parents and son greeted one another casual familiarity as the party arrayed itself in the living room. Agnes got everyone a drink, and Evan led off with a remark about the martial arts.

"How was it you decided to study?" he asked.

Louisa's mouth twitched as she remembered the creep at the conference. Richard got her out of it. "Oh, you know," he said easily, "the couple that plays together, stays together."

Evan didn't quite spew his drink. He'd figured something was going on but was quite surprised at his son's casual frankness.

Agnes said, "I'll just go check on the pie." With the look of a dazed woman, she moved unsteadily toward the safety of the kitchen.

"That went well," said Louisa cheerfully. "Did Richard also tell you we're planning to open a porn shop?"

"Really!" Evan laughed. "I'm glad you two are getting along so well."

The ice broke a bit, but the rest of the evening was never completely relaxed. Neither of Richard's parents seemed able to stop staring at Louisa, though for different reasons. They were seeing her in a new way. Evan had never seen her wear the proverbial little black dress; and he looked hungrier for her than he did for the lamb chops. Agnes was dumbstruck. She simply could not believe that a woman who had been her colleague in the PTA was now living in sin with her son.

Richard was by turns amused by his mother's reaction and irritated by the way his father looked at his girlfriend. He'd figured how things would play out with the former, but the latter felt like an attack from an unexpected quarter. At one point he looked in dad's eyes. The two men sized each other up. Richard was younger, but Evan was far advanced in the martial arts. It would be an interesting matchup, some time in class.

Agnes served dessert right on the heels of dinner. She'd gotten over the shock of Ms. Newberry's cradle-robbing and was now starting to perceive the woman as cheeky. What a nerve — to show up dressed like a prostitute, eat her cooking and flaunt her wares at her husband! Mrs. West whipped up a pot of decaf without bothering to ask anyone what they wanted.

The party had long since exhausted the subjects of the weather and current news events. The subject of work was a bore; Louisa was loathe to discuss recent events, Richard summed up his current work in one sentence, and Agnes did not work outside the home. Only Evan could drone on about his office, and even he was glazing over at the events of non-events. Finally the four discussed politics — even that ground was a safer place to tread than Richard and Louisa's relationship.

Richard washed down his mom's apple pie, a long-time favorite, with the slightly bitter coffee he remembered. He looked at the plate. In it was clearly written a mother's gesture of love for her son.

She thinks I'm still a kid

.

He took a few steps toward the washroom and beckoned to his date. "Louisa, could I see you for a second?"

"Sure." In a moment she was by his side.

Quietly he asked her if she would mind waiting in the car. "I'd like just a few minutes to discuss something with my parents."

"Of course," she agreed. In an instant she had on her coat and was graciously thanking her hosts. At their exclamations of surprise, Richard gave the same explanation. They readily acquiesced.

Louisa waited in the car for what seemed like a long time, though it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. She took the time as a gift; a moment of waiting is always a signal to observe, both within and without.

Breathe, Louisa

.

Wind fanned the trees in the just-past-twilight. The cool breezes of autumn were starting to blow. The leaves had done their job, collecting the sunshine and feeding the trees. Now they would shrivel, drop, and die.

The turning season made Louisa reflect on the seasons of her own life — hers and Richard's. They had been dating for nearly nine months now.

A pregnancy

, she thought.

A lifetime

. What new life he had given her! Life and death, somehow bound up in a golden ring.

Her reverie was interrupted by the young man himself opening the car door. In the cabin light his face looked peculiar, looked oddly determined.

"What's up?"

"They'll come around," he replied, but he sounded almost as if he were talking to himself.

"Give them time," she soothed.

"Time, my ass. Louisa" — he framed her face with his hands — "I love you. I want you to marry me. Will you be my wife?"