Gwyn The Caregiver Her 3Rd Stop

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This part three of Gwyn's hectic day of spreading joy amongst the woman of London. The story works as a standalone, but it wouldn't hurt to read the previous two in the series.

Gwyn the Caregiver: Her 1st Stop

Gwyn the Caregiver: Her 2nd Stop

All characters depicted are over the legal age of 18.

Thank you for reading!

Enjoy!

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My third stop of the day was a little unusual. I laid naked on a single bed in a university dorm room, under a pink duvet, propped up by a heap of pillows and teddy bears, with my legs spread wide, while Anne--a terribly beautiful and brilliant, but hopelessly shy, third year math student who would probably save the world one day, if she could just learn to relax and enjoy herself a little more--ate my pussy. And today she was doing an incredible job. My brow was already sweaty, and my legs were starting to shake, when I felt her began to insert two fingers inside my pussy and began to reach up for my g-spot like I had taught her to do.

"Fuck," I moaned, as I tweaked my own nipples hard.

The problem was, I didn't want to cum, well just not yet. For you see Anne was the opposite of a selfish lover. She was a saint who put all other's needs above hers. I knew that if I came first, then she would stop, we would cuddle, and sex for her would be over. However, if I could just holdout until she got off, then well, I don't know, there would be one more orgasm in the world.

From where I laid, I couldn't see if she was pleasuring herself under the duvet. So, I flipped the duvet up, hoping to see where her other hand--the one that wasn't working its way in an out of my wet pussy--was. Instead, all I saw was the top of Anne's head with her blond pixy cut as she buried her cute young face deep in my pussy. However, Anne didn't like to be watched. Her big blue eyes, that made her look like an elf, instantly flipped open and she snatched the duvet back down over her head.

I'm not easily deterred. So, I began to slowly pull the duvet towards me until in the mirror, that I had earlier strategically placed on her desk at the foot of her bed for this very reason, I got an excellent view of her beautiful, alabaster white arse. As luck would have it, she was up on her knees with her free hand buried between her thighs, masturbating her innocent blond pussy like mad.

"Good," I grunted as a little pre-orgasm quake hit me.

All I would need to do now is buy time to allow her to cum, so I began to frantically look around her tiny dorm room for something that would distract me long enough for Anne to get herself off. Up on her wall, there was hung a cute poster with a kitten clinging on to a tree branch telling her to 'Hang in There.' Although the message was pertinent to my situation, it didn't help much when Anne moved her hot young mouth up and began to vigorously suck on my clit.

I began to frantically search around again, until my eyes landed on a family photo of Anne with her six brothers, her parents, and their pastor taken at a church function a few years back. Her brothers and parents weren't much to look at, but Anne was the same tiny blond girl with impossibly white skin and blond hair, with a hot red mouth that was hitting all the right spots today.

"Oh god," I grunted, before I glanced over at the aging bearded pastor in the photo who seemed to have a strange, unwholesome leer on his face as he watched Anne and I fuck.

Anne slipped a third finger inside me and reached in deep.

Now I was desperate. If I asked Anne to cum for me, I knew that it would put her off her stride, and she wouldn't be able to get there. I just wish she would let me eat her little blond pussy, but she was still scared of oral sex from that one time, so, all I could do was pray that she was about to cum.

I began to pant hard as I fought my body, and tossed my head from side to side, until over on the bookshelf, piled high full of mathematics texts books, an old, beat-up, dog eared, textbook caught my eye. For some reason it looked familiar. On its spine, it read 'A Classical Introduction to Modern Number Theory.'

"Number Theory?" I panted. As someone who studied Marketing in University, the very existence of a whole new branch of mathematics that I didn't know I should be frightened of was enough for my brain to claw back just enough control from my crotch to put off orgasming for at least another minute or two. Then it hit me where I saw the book before. She brought it with her to the library on the day we first met....

It was about a year ago now that we first met. Anne found me online through a discreet profile I keep up to catch the odd businesswoman or housewife passing through London in need of some hot sex on the side. Nowadays my client list is large enough I almost exclusively do business through being recommended by other clients, or through some specialty events a couple friends of mine run for horny, open-minded women, so I don't have to rely on the whole internet thing, which is nice. Out of the blue I received a rather formal introductory text message explaining a little of her situation and how she was looking for some information on sex. Now days I would have just sent Anne's text to spam and not think twice about it, but that day things were slow. So, after I was satisfied that she wasn't just some horny bloke putting me on, I humoured her.

We eventually agreed to meet up at a small public library, in East London.

Although her texts said numerous times that she 'just wanted to talk,' I figured that this was just a euphemism that she was looking for a little naughty librarian play which would end with me fingering her back behind some old musty stacks of books. Which I was fine with. So, I tied up my hair in a bun, and made a point to wear my best pair of 1950's style, cat eyes, sexy librarian glasses. For an outfit I wore a somewhat dour, old-fashioned, dark grey knee length skirt, sensible black panties, and a simple white, button up blouse that showed off my big breast nicely. And, given that it was late April and was threatening to rain, I topped it off with an old tan mackintosh jacket to complete the look.

I arrived twenty minutes early for our mid-morning meeting to get the feel of the library before she arrived. The library was an old red brick, three story Victorian building, which, from the outside, had seen better days. Inside, the place was wonderfully ancient with enormously high ceilings, stacks of books everywhere, and it had an old, musty smell particular to old libraries everywhere.

I made my way up to the second floor where the library managed to shoehorn in a small café a few years back. The café was small, with just five tables, all of which were empty, except for one. At the table, behind a wall of old, giant books sat a small blond girl with a pixy cut, big bright blue eyes, and a bright red face.

I knew that it was Anne from the photos we exchanged. I'm not sure how it was possible, but she looked even younger in person. Also, she had this trapped animal look to her. I knew that I would need to be careful about how I approached her, otherwise she might just gnaw off her foot and leap out of the window. So, I casually smiled at her and then turned and walked up to the uninterested barista reading a romance novel behind the counter of the café.

I stood there for several seconds as the Barista, a voluptuous woman in her early thirties of Mediterranean descent with long dark straight hair, thick black eyebrows, and dark heavy framed glasses remained glued to her book.

"Whatcha reading?" I asked.

The lady jumped, nearly dropped her book, and had to readjust her glasses in the process. "Sorry, I was just," she stopped and quickly closed the book and hid it behind her back. The Barista was wearing a stretchy black top which made it obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra and her large nipples were rock hard. "Oh nothing. Just something trashy."

"I like trashy," I smiled at her as I looked down and saw that she was wearing a small pink badge over her heart.

The Barista smiled back at me before she remembered that she was working, "Oh yeah. Can I get you something to drink?"

"I would love a flat white," I smiled again.

"Of course, of course," the Barista said as she reluctantly turned to the coffee machine and went to work. Then over her shoulder she added. "I really like your glasses. Do you work here?"

"No. I'm here to meet someone," I said while I nodded over my shoulder to Anne who was watching everything like a frighten bird.

"Oh. Oh yeah. Um, let me ring you up and then I'll bring your coffee to your seat."

"Thanks," I said as I paid and turned around to face Anne.

Anne's eyes were still opened wide, and her face was at least two shades redder than before. I smiled and carefully began to approach her. As I edged up to her table, I could almost see her shaking out of fear. "Hi. I am Gwyn. You must be Anne," I said as I stretched out my hand.

Anne carefully reached up and took my hand. Her hand was tiny and smooth, and sure enough she was shaking.

"I know that I am early. Do you mind if I sit down?" I asked. "Or would you like to study some more?"

Anne didn't as much as say yes. It was more of a sound that popped out of her throat as she rapidly bobbed her head up and down.

I carefully sat down across from the young blond girl. She tracked my every movement like I was going to pounce on her. She was tiny, maybe five foot tall at best. Her head barely peeked over the wall of books she built around herself. I quickly glanced at the titles of the books, of which most were mathematics textbooks, but underneath them all, I saw one whose spine read 'Human Anatomy.'

"I love your hair," I started with. "I had long hair my whole childhood, but during Fresher's week in university I got drunk and cut it all off. My mother didn't speak to me for a month afterwards."

This made Anne smile. "My mother was mad at me too when I cut mine. Where did you go to school?"

"Manchester. How about you? Where do you go to school," I asked both as small talk and more importantly because she looked so young, and I wanted to make sure I wasn't about to do anything illegal.

"I'm studying Mathematics at UCL," she said as she pointed to an old mathematics textbook on top of the pile titled something about number theory.

"Oh wow," I was impressed. "I barely survived GCSC Mathematics. You must be very intelligent."

"Thanks," Anne eventually squeaked out a little embarrassed.

At once I knew that she wasn't used to complements.

"Sorry," the Barista interrupted as she suddenly appeared standing next to my shoulder with my coffee in her hand. "Here is your coffee," she smiled as she bent forward just enough at the waist to cause her large breast and still hard nipples to nearly touch my arm.

"Thanks," I flashed her a smile.

"If you two, need anything else, please let me know," the Barista grinned as she reluctantly turned away and returned to her book and stool behind the counter.

When the Barista was out of ear shot, I leaned forward across the table, which completely caught Anne by surprise, and whispered. "Did you see her nipples?"

Anne suddenly went rigid, as if she had never heard someone use the word 'nipple' before.

'So much for fingering her behind the stacks,' I thought to myself a little disappointed. Maybe the slutty librarian was the wrong play for this girl.

I gave Anne a second to recover from my use of the word 'nipple' before I tried again, this time more formal. "In your text, you said you had some questions for me."

"Yes," Anne said, still a little shaky, before she opened the old mathematics book and pulled out a sheet of lined paper with notes on it and quickly hid it behind her stack of books where I couldn't read it. "I grew up in a very religious family, on a farm in Norfolk. I am the youngest of seven children, and the only girl," she squeaked out.

"You have six older brothers? That must have been tough," I said as I took a drink.

"It was," Anne stopped reading from her notes for a second. "You see, aside from my mother, I am the only girl in the family, and she isn't very helpful to talk too. And in school I didn't have a lot of female friends outside of our church group, so I don't really have anyone I can ask 'certain' questions too."

"Oh? Questions?" I leaned in. "Like what?"

"You see," Anne stopped, looked around as if to make sure if her parents, or God, weren't hiding nearby, and then whispered, "I think I like women."

"There is nothing wrong with that," I smiled and winked at her.

Anne went stiff again, but this time it wasn't as bad as before when I said 'nipple.'

"It's just that I like this girl in my statistics class. She's from Iran. And she is beautiful and smart. I like her, and I think she might like me, but the problem is that I don't know how to do anything."

"Anything?" I asked. "What do you mean by anything?"

"Everything," she said sadly.

"Like how to have sex?" I whispered over her stack of books.

She shook her head no.

"Are you a virgin?"

Anne's eyes went wide again.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

She shook her head 'no' again.

"Have you kissed a boy?"

She looked even more frightened.

I sat back in my chair, "So what do you want my help with?"

Anne quickly reshuffled her pile of books and pulled out the one on human anatomy. She then nervously looked over at the Barista behind the café counter, who quickly looked away when she saw Anne looking at her. Eventually Anne pulled the big anatomy book out and set it on top.

I noticed straight away that there were several bookmarks sticking out of the book.

"Here," Anne said as she opened the large book to a full-sized anatomical drawing of an adult woman's vagina. "How do I have sex with a woman? Please show me what I need to do."

"Well," I said as I reached over and closed the book on human anatomy. "It isn't that hard. Just do the same things that you like, but just to her."

"What if I don't know what I like?" asked Anne a little breathless.

"You never touched yourself down there?" I asked as I discreetly point a finger down to my privates.

Anne shook her head no.

"Seriously?" I said flabbergasted.

"Our pastor said that it was a sin and God would know what we've done."

"I really hate religion," I spit out.

"Me too," said Anne quietly.

I sat there for a moment. "So, you've never touched yourself?"

"No."

"Your parents never had the 'birds and bees' talk with you?"

"No."

"What about in school?" I asked. "Aren't they required to teach sex education these days?"

"Religious exemption," she offered.

"What about the Internet? Surely you have access to that now. A two-minute Google search would give you the basics."

"I think my parents and our church have spyware installed on my computer and phone and I was scared that they would go through my search history."

"How did you find me then?" I inquired.

"A boy in my class left his laptop open one day. When he left the room, I saw that he had been looking up something called 'personal services' which eventually led me to your profile. After that I bought a disposable phone to text you." From her pocket, Anne pulled out a little burner phone and placed it on the table.

"Wow," I said as I sat there for a second. "Okay. I'll help. What do you want me to teach you?" I asked as I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers.

Anne snatched her hand away from mine and screeched loud enough for the woman behind the counter to hear, "I'm not ready for that!"

"Sorry. Sorry," I apologized as I stole a glance over my shoulder to make sure the Barista wasn't calling the police on me.

"Not just yet. Please," Anne pushed out. "I just want you to tell me how sex works in theory."

I sat back and let out a long breath, not sure where to even start.

Anne flipped the anatomy book back open to the woman's vagina and jabbed a finger toward the image's vaginal opening. "Is this where I need to put my finger?" Anne said in a hushed voice.

"Yes, but there is a lot more to it than that." I pulled off my librarian glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose for a second. "You can't just walk up to your friend and stick your finger inside her. That's a sexual assault. You need to at least kiss her first."

Anne quickly flipped the anatomy book to another drawing, this time it was of a woman's face and her open mouth. "Okay. Show me how to kiss," she demanded as she poked her finger inside the drawing's mouth.

"I can't show you how to kiss on a drawing. That's something you learn by doing," I tried to laugh but it fell flat.

Suddenly the Barista was standing next to our table again with one of the café chairs in her hand. She dropped the chair down next to us and quickly sat down, leaned in, and put her elbows on the table. "Sorry. I have excellent hearing and the café isn't that big. And if I don't say something I'm going to literally die," she said before she let out a big cathartic breath. "Oh, and I am Sarah by the way."

I shook Sarah's hand and then Sarah cautiously turned to Anne and waited until Anne took her hand and gave it a little shake.

"Okay, let me see if I heard things correctly," Sarah continued at a million words a minute. She turned to Anne first, "You want her to teach you how to kiss, and how to do other things, but you don't like to be touched."

Anne eyed both me and the new woman, before she gave a nod of agreement.

Then Sarah turned towards me. "And you are happy to teach her how to kiss, and how to do other things, but you think these are things best learned by trying."

"I'm very tactile," I smiled before getting down to business. "So, what are you offering?"

"I would very happily be your model," Sarah said in a sudden low gravelly voice. "I'll help you show her how to kiss, and how to do other things."

I admit that she sold me on whatever she had in mind as soon as I felt a flutter below. "That could work," I said as I turned to Anne.

Anne looked confused by the situation. She leaned over the small table and covered the side of her mouth with her left hand where the new woman couldn't read her lips, although the woman could perfectly well, hear Anne whispering. "Is she a lesbian too?"

"I believe she is," as said as I covered my mouth and whispered back to Anne.

Sarah smiled and pointed to the pink triangle badge she wore up on her heavy left breast. "Ever since I was 15 and that time on holiday with my parents in Spain," she whispered back.

"This is completely up to you," I whispered to Anne. "Just say the word, and we'll stop. We can do it your way and go back to your anatomy book."

Anne glanced over at Sarah in her thick black rim glasses, who was trying not to smile from ear to ear.

"What do you think?" Anne asked me.

"In my professional opinion, I think you will learn more this way, than from that anatomy book," I offered.

Anne dropped her hand, looked back and forth at both Sarah and I several times and then shook her head 'yes' before she whispered. "Okay, show me how to kiss."

Sarah reached over and grabbed my hand, closed her eyes, and leaned across the table.

"Wait," I stopped her. "Should we do this here?" I asked as I pointed to the security camera mounted up on the far wall.

"Oh that. They don't work," Sarah said before she licked her red lips. "The Council ran out of funds years ago. They had just enough money to buy the cameras, but not enough to wire them in or pay a technician to watch them." She said as she slid her chair in close towards mine, until her knee was between my thighs.