A Brief Recap of Wednesday Evenings With Babs Pt 01
A forty two year old female divorcee and a nineteen year old male are co-workers at a company. The woman lures the young man to her home after hours and successfully seduces him. He was a virgin up to that night. The story continues later that evening as he has gotten home where he still lives with his parents.
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Strange Smells and Sensations
Finally, I was 'safely' back in my bedroom. For a half hour or so I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall while the events of the evening replayed over and over in my mind.
Questions began to take root, the first one being 'Why me?'. It was pretty obvious that the boxes were just an excuse to lure me to her house. Mind you I didn't resent that, but I could not figure out why she chose ME for this seduction. In a way, I didn't want to know the answer. But the why of it just hung there. It was pretty obvious that it was not the result of her becoming smitten with me. Barbara was so far out of my league that such a notion was utterly laughable. It wasn't physical. Though I was blessed with a boyish-looking face it was not as if I was some young, muscular, athletic stud type that had stoked her hormones. I was and still am all of five feet, nine inches, and at the time weighed about one hundred seventy, this too about the same as today. It wasn't about money. I had none. It wasn't about my social status or any working world connections I might have. Serving her body up to me for no strings attached fucking for career advancement was also a joke.
Seducing me was an unbelievable act of risk taking by her. And by giving in to it I had put myself in a situation whose consequences could potentially wreck my future before it even began. She might create just as much in the way of unwanted worries as those created by dealing with the draft.
Then there were the physical questions that were the result of my virtually non-existent sexual experience.
For example, there was still a tiny trace of a tingling, itchy sensation in the head of my cock. 'Gee, I've never felt anything like that before' I thought. When I took off my pants and briefs an unfamiliar scent rose from my crotch. 'Gee, what is that smell? I've never smelled anything like it before. My pubic hair felt matted down, its individual hairs stuck together as if they had been coated with hair spray.
I picked up the briefs and held them to my nose. The unfamiliar scent sort of reminded me of the smell of bleach. For sure it was not something that my body had produced before. At least as far as I could recall.
So why were these things so unfamiliar to me? The smell in my crotch and underwear? The hairspray-like substance on my pubic hair? Was the smell and the encrusted hair the result of something from Barbara's pussy? That tingling, slightly itchy sensation? Was it the first signs of some STD I had contracted from her that was already showing symptoms?
The reason I wondered about these things was very simple: Not only was this session with her the first time I had sex with a woman, it was the first time I had experienced an ejaculation! I was so ignorant, so clueless, so absent in the most basic knowledge of things sexual, that at age nineteen I had still not discovered the joys of masturbation! When I'd get an erection I'd fondle myself (which only made it worse) and after a while, it would go away, but until that night I had no idea of how to relieve it! No idea of how to enjoy it! I had never indulged in 'locker room' talk with other boys or anything that might have 'enlightened' me.
When I set about writing this account, I spent a lot of time digging up such details as were still buried in my memory. I had to decide what 'juicy' ones to include. When this particular item came to mind I pondered as to the wisdom of including it. 'No one would ever believe it' I thought to myself. 'Really, you are trying to tell me that before that evening you had NEVER experienced an ejaculation? How about a wet dream?' But it is true.
I got up from the bed and went to the hall bath to wash 'whatever this stuff is' off of me. As I did so I began to get another erection. I began sliding the soapy rag back and forth on my cock, and the light came on for me. The smell and the crusty hair had been produced by my load that had drained out of Barbara's pussy and onto me. How could I fail to recognize something so obvious? Answer: I was really that 'ig-nant'.
But what about that lingering tingle I felt in my cock head? Duh...I concluded that it was from nerve endings that had never been seen used before and were still in a state of 'shock'.
I quickly rinsed and dried off, then reached down into the vanity and retrieved a bottle of hand lotion that I previously used for more 'innocent' purposes, like dealing with dry hands. I returned to my bedroom and locked the door. In about two minutes that wonderful sensation, the one that I had felt with Barbara just two hours before was once again in complete control of my being. Cumshot after cumshot leaped from within me. 'Holy shit this feels GOOD!' I thought. This boy had a new toy to play with, and every night thereafter I used it to rock myself to sleep.
On that night my sex life, both 'interactive' and solo, had its unique and glorious beginning.
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A Slowly Closing Trap
I had a girlfriend named Elizabeth. She too had turned nineteen two months before I did in July of '68. We had a lot of fun with the 'older woman - younger man' bit. How she was 'robbing the cradle'. In light of my encounter with Barbara, this became an amusing if somewhat uneasy irony for me.
Known to all as Liz, she was still living at home with her parents and I'd visit there almost daily on weeknights. On weekends we were pretty much inseparable. Saturday nights would find us my car parked at one of the local 'Lover's Lane' spots making out. The usual heavy petting, tongue tangles, and getting a little free with the hands' stuff, but it never got out of hand. We were too chicken to go beyond that.
Epic as that first encounter with Barbara had been, I wasn't too concerned about its effect on Lizzie and me. For all I knew it would be the first and last such episode, and it would gradually fade from memory. It had happened on a Wednesday night, and I usually didn't visit Liz on that night, so I wasn't concerned about any questions about 'Where were you last night?'.
However, I did find myself hoping that when Liz saw me the next evening there would be nothing in my facial expressions, body language, or words that would raise a red flag. Even though I felt guilty I didn't want to act or look as if something unusual might have happened that she didn't know about. As we all have known at one time or another, guilt has a way of being worn like an article of clothing.
Having finally discovered the magic of masturbation my cock had become my new favorite toy. In the week following the encounter with Barbara I just about wore it and my wrist out. On Thursday and Friday, I found myself looking forward to leaving Lizzie's house so I could get to my bedroom and beat off. When we were together on Saturday and Sunday I found myself less focused on her and more on how much I was looking forward to teasing my tool. How could I have gone through practically all of my teen years and missed out on something so powerful because of sheer ignorance?
By Monday night I was already conducting experiments in edging. I didn't know that this was a common practice or even that there was a term for it. But on that night I thought 'Let me see how many times I can get close to cumming and just stop'. In the back of my mind, I was hoping to develop a little control so I could last a bit longer. I actually brought myself to the 'edge' once before giving in on the second attempt. I was not sure when I might be able to put this control to a real 'test'.
Masturbation's 'fuel' consists of the sexual thoughts and fantasies that invade our minds and keep working on us until they become a distraction. One that must be dealt with.
How many times have you masturbated, and upon getting the relief you needed, you found yourself thinking: 'That was wonderful. I needed that. I REALLY NEEDED that. And now I can get my mind back on doing what I really need to be doing'?
During that week my only beating off fantasy consisted of an endlessly looping replay of what had occurred between Barbara and me. It was the only one I needed, and it left me conflicted. On the one hand, I wanted to just put the episode behind me and move on. On the other, thinking about that night, and her, kept me reaching for that hand lotion.
