Erotic Education For Ch 1

Erotic Education For An Eager Student Chapter 1

The phone rang. My roommate wasn't around so I grabbed it. Just as I had hoped, it was his ex-wife again.

Susan had been calling for Hal for some weeks now, but Hal wouldn't take calls from her so I ended up talking to her regularly and had grown to enjoy the talks. She sounded very sexy over the phone but I know better than to put any stock in that--I had been consistently burned by my preconceived images generated by sweet voices on the phone.

Then all that changed when Hal surprised me by saying that he was going over to Susan's home to take care of some sort of maintenance chore and asked if I wanted to come along. Indeed I did, and set out to see what Susan was like. Hal was much older than I was at that time and I knew that Susan was older still. To my twenty year old mind, Hal was over the hill at 35 and his wife was just plain OLD at 40. But she did sound sweet, I did enjoy talking with her on the phone and I was definitely curious.

She was a knockout! She was sitting on the floor mending a throw rug when I got there and I sat on the couch chatting with her while Hal worked somewhere at the other end of the house. She was trim and shapely with a sweet pair of titties and a head of blonde hair. Her face was pleasant to look at if not beautiful, and she had a feminine grace about her that just did a number on me. This 40 year old woman was just twice my age--easily old enough to be my mother, but I was experiencing some very un-motherly thoughts about her as I drank in her allure.

She was wearing a pair of snug fitting red shorts and a halter top that revealed a trim little waist and a nicely proportioned pair of breasts. Her legs were shapely, firm and lightly tanned. Her feet were bare and her toenails were painted red. She couldn't have been more appealing to me if she had been sitting there nude.

We talked quietly about something that I forgot probably later that same day, but as I write this, decades later, I have not forgotten even one detail about how that woman dressed and looked. I was hooked.

A day later, when she again called, my pulse increased noticeably when I first heard her voice. Before I hung up, she had invited me to her place for dinner. She never called again for Hal, and she called many times. As a matter of fact, Hal moved out shortly to go live with my old girlfriend that I had introduced him to. (He later married her and their marriage lasted for a few years before they split and I ran into Jayne again--but that's another story.)

Susan's house was cute. No other word for it--cute. It had varnished wood ceilings and had the general feel of a ski lodge. I loved the place immediately. It took a only bit longer to love Susan as we shall see. The setting was perfect. Checkered tablecloth, candles burning, wonderful tasty meal a beautiful woman moving with the grace of a dancer to pamper me with attention. The outcome could have been chiseled in stone--it was classic.

It didn't take long before we were on the couch and she must have been reading my mind because when I wanted to reach for her, she just glided into my arms. She was wearing a white blouse that buttoned up the front--and unbuttoned down the front. As we kissed she leaned back and pulled me on top of her and my face ended up almost buried in one of her lovely breasts. As if by magic my hand seemed float over her blouse and cup that gorgeous lobe. She was very helpful and opened some buttons to allow me closer access to her breast. At my tender age I had not yet met a woman like Susan. The girls, not women, that I was accustomed to going out with tended to guard their sexuality as though it was the crown jewels. A long and careful campaign to achieve small advances was the norm in my past exposure and Susan was a thrilling new experience for me. She was leading me all the way, I was like a kitten being drawn to a plate of warm milk.

When the bra came off, and the thrill of seeing her beautiful breast in all it's curvaceous glory had set my hormones coursing through my body, I noticed that she was wearing a padded bra. I clumsily said something about her bra being padded and why did she think that such perfect breasts needed any help. She said for me to wait a moment and she walked into the next room. Moments later she returned--wearing only a shortie nightgown--and the offending bra was gone!

If there had been any doubt as to the probable outcome of this evening, it vanished at just the moment that the sexiest thing that I had ever seen moved into my view. The candlelight danced off the sheer material of her nightie. She knew just what an effect she was having on me as she hesitated in the soft light long enough to let her image do it's thrilling work on me.

At that point I suggested that we find more comfortable surroundings and she led me to what was going to be our love nest for that night and for many nights to come. This gracious and talented woman had an ability that few other women have possessed in my experience; she managed to make our entire evening flow so naturally that I never had a moment of self-consciousness or clumsiness. She led me to her bed and helped me undress so skillfully that our mutual nakedness seemed magical, wonderful and oh, so easy.

She was just perfect. Her breasts were what I had always dreamed of as the perfect expression of feminine allure. The were perfectly shaped and perfectly sized, with classic nipples that were standing proud and pert. Her skin was smooth and beautiful. Her waist was tiny and her belly had a slight rounding that was one more expression of her powerful sexuality. The triangle of dark pubic hair was absolutely perfect and her nicely rounded butt just begged to be petted and stroked.

I had a flaming hard on that pulsed with excitement. I had been skillfully seduced by a feminine power so overwhelming that nothing could have stopped what was about to ensue that wonderful evening. That woman had decided that I was to become her sex toy and she had the power to make it happen regardless of any consideration on my part. If I had been going with some other sweet thing, the sweet thing would have been forgotten, if my fortune had hung in the balance, the fortune would have been mortgaged. At that point I would have walked over hot coals to get at her.

To Be Continued...