The Lodger 1

It was the late fifties and an unwise business venture had left Paul's widowed mother short of cash. Her solution was to take in a paying guest - a lodger – a young women who was alone in the world and on whom Paul soon came to focus his confused late-adolescent desires.

Her name was Rachel. She was about twenty-four at this time and although plain looking, with straight dark hair, she did have a striking figure that Paul constantly thought about as he moved into his nineteenth year. His wakening mind was filled with fantasies about her and his blue jeans stretched taught with painfully pleasant feelings.

She was always friendly toward him and seemed amused at his over-lengthy glances in her direction, especially when she leaned forward or crossed her legs, as these actions presented an, all too rare, momentary glimpse of that soft valley between her breasts or of her white cotton underwear.

As a sheltered, introverted, only-child, just coming to the end of an education that had been undertaken solely in male only schools, Paul's sexual exploits were confined to clumsy, but relief-giving bouts of masturbation and he suffered, silently, the agonies of natural adolescent longings.

***

It was about ten o'clock on a mild Saturday morning in May when, after his customary lie-in, Paul finally went down to breakfast. His mother had left early for town on her weekly shopping expedition and Rachel sat at the breakfast table eating toast and reading the paper. She looked up as he entered the room.

" Good morning, Paul," she said before diving back into her paper.

He grunted a response and collected some Cornflakes and a teacup from the kitchen and joined her at the table. Once seated, he poured himself some tea and started to eat his cereal.

As he slowly crunched each mouthful he glanced furtively towards the young lodger. Rachel had not yet dressed and was wearing a sheer silk dressing gown held together with a single twist of its belt. Movement had loosened the belt and the top hung partially open allowing a better than usual view of the upper slope of a full cream breast. Paul tried not to look, stealing overlong glances at increasingly frequent intervals until he was sure that she must have seen him. However, she continued reading her paper and munching her toast, occasionally stretching and re-positioning herself.

Unknown to Paul, Rachel had also taken more than a passing interest in him. Whilst mentally, Paul was immature to the point of naivety he was physically very nicely developed. He had the sort of body that would even look good in overalls - tall and slim with dark hair that he always left a little long so that it curled and gave him an unkempt look. His best feature, however, was his steel blue eyes, eyes that shined out of his face like thousand carat sapphires. Rachel had lain in bed most nights with her fingers between her legs fantasising about those eyes - wishing there were smiling down at her as his young hard body drove itself deep inside her.

As she sat, she was secretly relishing the fact that Paul was watching her. Watching as, with each movement, the top of her gown would fall a little more open and allow her breast to be slightly more exposed until finally, the edge of the dark pink aureole surrounding her nipple, peeped out over the top of her short cotton nightie.

"

She must have seen me looking

," Paul was thinking to himself when she said,

"And what are you up to today then, Paul?"

"Nothing much," he mumbled, looking away nervously as he spoke.

"Out with your girlfriend, I expect?" she teased.

He reddened and stuttered a denial, but she took delight in his discomfort and pressed on.

"Don't tell me a good looking young man like you hasn't got a girlfriend. I don't believe it."

"I don't seem to be able to get along with girls," he answered quietly, but her teasing was well advanced.

"I can't believe that, I get along with you and I'm a girl, or doesn't that count?" she continued, subtlety goading him, pouting and placing her right hand on his.

He nodded dumbly and reddened again at the intimacy of her touch.

"In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I think that you like girls a lot. Am I right?" She folded her paper, placed it on the table and gave him her full attention before continuing quietly,

" Boys of your age do start to notice girls. It's quite natural, you know."

"I know when I was your age I would watch boys for hours. It's all part of growing up and now you're becoming a man you will want to explore, to find out what sex is all about. Am I right?"

He shifted uncomfortably when the word 'sex' was mentioned, acutely embarrassed by the turn of the conversation, but compelled to listen nonetheless.

She lowered her eyes and her voice.

"I have noticed how you look at me, you know and l am glad that you find me nice to look at. You do find me nice to look at don't you, Paul?"

"Of course I do," he grunted sheepishly, still not able to look her in the eye.

"Maybe l shouldn't say so, but l know what it's like to be awkward about sex and l think that l can help, but you will have to trust me and you must promise never to tell a living soul - will you do that Paul?"

He nodded again, unable to speak his ascent because of his desert dry mouth and throat.

She was smiling as she slowly pulled open her dressing gown and lowered her night-dress to let the sun's morning rays illuminate the two magnificent pale breasts that jutted out proudly from her chest. Paul stared at them for some moments after which time she spoke again - more quietly and intimately.

"Would you like to touch them, Paul?" she purred what she knew, was a rhetorical question and took his hand before he could answer.

She placed it gently on her left breast and he started to knead it clumsily, feeling tremendous excitement from its firmness and warmth until she placed a controlling hand over his saying, "Gently, like this," and began to caress her other breast herself. Paul copied her actions and before long, her eyes closed and her breathing quickened. She rolled her nipple between her finger and thumb so Paul rolled her other nipple between his finger and thumb. She cupped and squeezed so Paul cupped and squeezed.

The clock ticked away the minutes as she purred and rolled her head until, at last, she opened her eyes and looked at him, "Um, that was nice, you

are

a quick learner young man, would you like to learn some more?" Paul nodded silently, but once again, he had no idea what she intended.

Reaching down, she pulled the hem of her night-dress towards her lap, baring her upper thighs and then, taking his trembling hand, she guided it to their inner part and then left it to its own devices.

"Do you know what l have down there. Have you ever touched a girl between her legs?"

He shook his head, still mesmerised and his fingers shook.

"Gently now," she whispered, closing her eyes again.

For the first time in his life Paul felt that gossamer smooth skin of a woman's inner thigh and was enthralled. He gently stroked the cool soft flesh with his fingertips for some time, unable to determine what it was that gave him so much pleasure. Rachel was clearly enjoying his touch because she shuffled her bottom to the edge of the chair, took his hand and guided it forcefully to the conjunction of her legs.

In those days, the closest a sheltered boy of eighteen got to knowing anything about the female anatomy was from the heavily thumbed (and often stuck together) pages of a "Health and Efficiency" magazine. The risqué black and white pictures therein showed that all women had breasts, a dark triangle of pubic hair and played tennis.

Earlier in his life, his cousin, who was a little older than him, had allowed him to satisfy his curiosity and let him put his hand in her knickers and run a finger down her front slit, but she had kept her legs firmly together and her secret safe.

As a result, his ignorance of what lay between a woman's legs restricted his sexual fantasies to breasts, but this was about to change forever.

His fingers reached her groin and it was clear that Rachel wore no underclothes. Delving into uncharted territory, Paul discovered a plump mound covered in a soft, now damp, down of curly black hair and he ran an exploratory finger over it and up the front slit as he had done that time before with his cousin.

However, her parted legs allowed his finger to travel further along the slit and into her softer, moister regions: folds of latex skin closed over his finger as it disappeared into the hot wetness of her vagina. Paul stroked and probed and, as he did, she moved her body against his searching fingers for, by now, he had added a second finger to squelch in her liquid depths alongside the first.

Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung limply open. His confidence began to build as he sensed the control he seemed to be exerting over her. His nervous fingers explored the velvet sloppiness of her moist tunnel and then they came across, what felt like, a stiff, but tiny penis that he pulled and rolled in his fingers as he had done with her swollen nipples. She moaned loudly and writhed against his hand giving him even more confidence to experiment.

His free hand went back to her bare breast and repeated the attention that he had paid it earlier, continuing to pleasure her for some minutes. As his fingers worked their magic her breathing rate increased until it came only in gasps. Eventually, a long low moan escaped from her throat and her vaginal muscles rippled along his fingers before she relaxed and slumped backwards into her chair. Paul stopped and withdrew his hand, fearful that he had brought about some form of attack.

"Are you all right, Rachel?" he asked with some concern.

She opened her eyes, "That was wonderful, Paul. You have a natural talent when it comes to pleasing a women."

He smiled back at her, unable not to notice that her dressing gown was now wide open, her night-dress gathered in a clump around her waist and her beautiful body fully exposed to his gaze. She saw him looking at her and regained her composure asking,

"Would you like the next lesson, Paul?"

He nodded yet again; somehow his ability to speak was still failing him in a big way.

"Stand up," she ordered and he obeyed, pulling his own dressing gown tightly around him to concealed the mother of all erections. This amused her and she took his hands in hers and pulled him so that he stood before her. Then she let his hands fall to his sides and tugged at his belt so that the gown fell open. As it did, his penis jutted out through the front of his pyjamas and Paul felt his face and the naked top half of his body blush and turned red. She smiled as she looked at the cause of his embarrassment and her heart skipped a beat. She pulled on the tie that held his pyjamas in place and they fell to the floor to leave his fit young body, with its impressive appendage, exposed to her gaze.

She had not seen many erect penises in her short life, in fact, the only one that she had really 'examined' was that of her ex-boyfriend and his short stubby one (that she had to admit, had given her much pleasure in the past) paled beside the one before her now.

It was elegant: that was the word that described it perfectly - elegant. It stood upright - long and thick with a deep red bulbous helmet that pulse quickly in time with his racing heart.

" Why, Paul, you should never be ashamed of

that

. Any women would give her eye teeth to be on the receiving end of something like that."

He was unknowingly flattered in his embarrassment.

Reaching forward, she took his penis in her small hand and squeezed it gently, an action that would cause mild pleasure to an seasoned lover but, when applied to an inexperienced youth, brought him close to ejaculation. Sensing his excitement she released it, but still fascinated, she ran a fingernail up its entire length and across its end where a bead of pre-cum oozed and glistened. The intense sensations he was feeling sent panic messages to his already overheated brain and he squirmed under her touch.

She took hold of him again and, with her hand lightly circling his circumference, she began to stroke up and down it until, after only three or four strokes, it exploded and he went dizzy. His knees buckled and he had to grab the table for support. Ribbons of white cream spurted into the air from his throbbing penis as Rachel continued to pump. Eventually, his ejaculations stopped and his penis started to soften.

Her tiny, semen covered hand still held him lightly as his erection subsided. The waves of pleasure he had experienced were like nothing he had ever felt before, but this exquisite pleasure was soon replaced with an acute feeling of shame and he turned from the breakfast table, recovered his trousers and left the room quickly to take refuge in his bedroom.

He was lying on his bed and had recovered some of his composure when Rachel put her head around the door.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He nodded his agreement and she came and sat beside him on the bed.

"l am sorry, Paul. l didn't intend to embarrass you. Was that the first time that someone has done that to you?"

He looked away and nodded again.

"It was wonderful but it was embarrassing, eh?" she continued.

"Try and remember how wonderful it was and forget the embarrassment. It is supposed to be enjoyed. The question is, would you want to do it again?"

She held his hand in hers and stroked his forearm with her other hand, smiling reassuringly at him as she did.

The post orgasmic guilt had subsided and Paul was actually becoming aroused again at the sight of Rachel's carelessly clad body only inches away from him. Finally, he leaned towards her and nestled his head in the cleft between her breasts. She wound her slim fingers around his tousled hair and pulled him into her bosom, holding his face firmly against her silk clad body. His nostrils filled with a mixture of perfume and her feminine odour and it made him yearn to repeat the events of the previous half-hour. Slowly, tentatively, he slipped his hand under her dressing gown and between her warm thighs.

She smiled to herself and asked," Are you ready to try it again then?"

He pulled away from her and looked pleadingly into her eyes. She stood and let the nightie drop to her feet and then slipped off the dressing gown to fall with a swish to join it. Paul then looked at his first naked women and she was even more beautiful than in his fantasies. Her skin was marble pale and smooth and small button nipples stood out proudly on her delicious young mounds. Kneeling before him, she cradled his face in both of her hands and guided his lips to her breasts where nature took over.

As his tongue and lips rolled, sucked and nibbled her firm skin she held his head hard against her and kept his mouth clamped, limpet-like, to one of her nipples. The sensation she was feeling at the very tip of her nipple travelled down some erotic highway, across her flat stomach and triggered a hot tingling in her stiff little clitoris. Uncomfortable in her sitting position, she got up and lay, face up, on the bed pulling him down to lay half on top of her. Then, needing him to touch her 'there' she threw open her legs in a clear invitation for him to touch the weeping and swollen swamp between her legs.

His fingers roamed, exploring freely the contours and textures inside her pouting outer lips, delving and stroking deep inside her until, once again, she found herself only a hairsbreadth away from release. However, just before her orgasm overtook her, she pulled away his hand and retreated from the very edge of the precipice.

The stiff straining rod rubbing up and down against her side told her that Paul was also very close to cumming so she took good care not to touch him 'there' as she opened his robe. His erection must have been record book size as it throbbed with menace and the angry blue veins that lined its length looked full to bursting with the pressure of his heated blood. It was clearly ready to explode again when she said,

"Try and think of something else for the next few minutes." She said, as if she was a nurse advising a patient, but Paul was rampant. It didn't help that she was lying on her back with her legs wide apart displaying her red vulva engorged and glistened wetly, so she said simply, "Lie on top of me."

He cast off his own gown and did as commanded but the biological urge to thrust his throbbing organ deep inside her was overwhelming. As he tried she said quickly, "Just put the tip inside it, Paul"

He obeyed and slipped the very end of his penis between the silky outer lips of her vagina.

She gave a little gasp as her lips surrounded the large head of his cock.

"A little bit more," she urged and he complied, but his sexual pressure gauge was rapidly approaching the red zone.

She was whispering in his ear now, "Push it in slowly - all the way - then stop."

He complied, pushing forward, sliding effortlessly into her oozing tunnel until their pubic hair meshed together. All the time he was sliding into her she had been moaning softly, feeling his long stiff shaft stretch her lips and probe deeper and deeper inside her. She felt so filled and decided at that point that she could stay like that forever.

"Let's just hold at this," she said knowing that if he followed his instincts it would be all over for him in seconds.

After a short time during which neither moved, the pressure in Paul's groin subsided slightly and he withdrew a few of his erect inches, but not for long - instinct forced him to drive them home again - hard and deep - levering her slim body clear of the bed. She uttered a satisfied groan and hung on to him as he repeated his thrusting.

Confidence replaced anxiety as he continued to copulate but, in truth, it took only seconds for another orgasmic rush to overtake him and he rammed his rod into Rachel - two, three, four more times - like a gunner stuffing a wad into a hot cannon - before his army of sperm burst forth.

Poised as Rachel had been on the point of her own orgasm, Paul's efforts had left her wanting him to last just a little longer when she felt the first gush of semen splash upon her vagina walls. She held onto him tightly and whispered in his ear, "Stay in me, Paul, stay in me."

They lay together for what seemed ages, but slowly, as his nostrils filled again with her intoxicatingly feminine scent, his desire returned and he let his fingers trace tiny circles on her cool flesh. In response, her unfulfilled loins started to gyrate against his and as time passed, his near-flaccid penis, still nestling in her warm wet depths, stirred.

It grew again, filling her tight cavity to capacity. She purred with delight and thrust upward against him.

He felt in control again and thrust his, now fully engorged penis, deep inside her - then he began to withdraw it. Her vagina grasped him and held him, drawing along his embedded length as he pulled it out - like fingers extracting the very last of the toothpaste from the tube. He rammed back into her and her hot tunnel relaxed, letting him glide effortlessly down to her very core.

Lubricated by his previous ejaculation, their genitals slurped together emitting sensual hydraulic sounds and on each inward thrust, his distended balls impacted against her wet flesh with an audible slap. He drove into her, over and over again in a measured, almost mechanical way, so that the ribbed, top surface of his penis rubbed against her jutting clitoris. The excitement that this generated in her caused her own movements to become increasingly erratic as she strove to draw even more personal satisfaction from his swollen phallus.