I woke before him, as I always do. Waking early is part of a woman's role in The Community. We need to train ourselves so we are ready when our man, whoever that might be on that morning, awakens.
I was watching him sleep, so beautiful, his 19-year-old body coming into the flower of manhood. The first sprinkling of pubic hair and a pimple on his chin signaled his readiness. I could see his eyes moving under his lids and wondered if I was part of his dream.
As I watched, still overwhelmed by the honor of being his First, I felt a sudden wave of pity for those outside of The Community. I understand that for them puberty strikes so terribly young. I suppose it's no wonder that the news is filled with violence toward women. Those poor boys are not ready for the responsibility of sex, and in their twisted society, no woman is charged with teaching them.
When I'm feeling contemplative like that I have a fantasy of just building a wall around our community and locking outsiders out completely. The rational part of me recognizes that I'm being silly, but I just don't see how that sick society can be saved.
I felt his first stirrings and returned my attention where it belonged, with my man.
I cursed myself for dawdling. I should have washed my face and brushed my hair so I would be presentable for him. I was ashamed but it was too late now.
I kissed him as his eyes fluttered open.
"Good morning, my love," I said, snuggling against him.
His grin was still boyish as he reached for me but I rolled away, quickly.
"Bathroom first," I said, "morning breath," I added with a giggle and my palm covering my mouth.
His grin spread as he reached down to where he was hard. "I'll have trouble aiming," he said.
I giggled, my best girlish giggle, and held out my hand.
"I'll help," I said.
He took my hand and I led him to the shower rather than the toilet.
I kissed him as we waited for the water to run hot.
When we stepped into the shower I reached down and squeezed his erection.
"No need to aim in here," I said and put my arms around his neck, and molded my body to his.
"Paulette," he said, but stopped there.
I giggled and relaxed and started to pee. The scent of urine joined the steam.
"It's okay, Benjamin," I said, "we all pee in the shower."
His eyes were on mine so I kissed him again, and held it until I felt him let go.
"There now," I said, nuzzling his neck as he peed between us, "that wasn't so bad."
He said nothing but I felt the tension leaving his body.
When he finished and softened, I picked up the soap and a washcloth and started bathing him. I washed his face and shampooed and rinsed his hair.
As I started on his body, the bar of soap in one hand as I soaped him thoroughly, I was surprised not at all to feel him come erect again when I started washing his cock and balls, working up a bit of lather in his fine pubic hair. He seemed surprised when I masturbated him quickly and then washed again.
I got to my knees, the water sluicing over us, and finished his legs and did his feet, making him jerk when I tickled them, almost slipping.
I used my hands on his hips and turned him so I could so his back.
Well, and his ass too which was right there so I kissed each cheek,
I stood as I finished, doing his upper back, and then handed him the soap.
"That's three lessons, my dear," I said, "first, sex, especially good sex is often messy but never dirty, second, how easy it is to finish a man, and third, now unfulfilling that is for him. Now a fourth - explore my body as you bathe me."
He followed my example, doing my face first, making me giggle when bubbles made me sneeze and my nose started running.