Sorry this has taken so long to get posted. Life, the holidays, and a new lady kept interfering. Deon gets a lesson in making love, has some fun with Mary, his sister's friend, and teaches Kyle it's not nice to cheat. Hope you all enjoy it. No. 5 coming soon. Jb7
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Deon had just finished setting the table for dinner when the doorbell rang. He smiled, anticipating the evening. He went to the front door and opened it, to welcome Bertie. She was dressed informally in slacks and a short sleeved buttoned summer bouse. She had a large tote bag with her.
"Come in; come in," her urged her.
She smiled. "Eager; I like that. It bodes well for the evening."
Her host grinned in reply, reaching for the bag. "I hope so. Before we start, there's something I want to talk about with you." He lifted the bag. "Bedroom?" She nodded. He pointed her toward the living room and carried the bag to its destination.
In a few seconds, he returned. "What can I get you to drink?" he asked her. "The woman who owns the house left some sherry and port, along with some scotch and bourbon. Unfortunately all I have as a mixer right now is water."
"Sherry's fine. Who owns the house? Is she on sabbatical?"
He opened a cabinet and took out a decanter and a couple of cordial glasses. "Yeah. A Dr. Hill, from the nursing school. I think someone told me she oversees the Community Nursing program. Over the summer, she said, she was contacted by one of her graduates who wants some help organizing a public health program staffed by nurse practitioners to serve the migrant camps in the southern part of the state.
"My sister is coming up to school in a few weeks, so we're going to share the house. We have this until the first of the year. That'll give us time to find a place to lease or buy." Deon handed Bertie a glass and sat down next to her. He took a sip of his wine and looked at his guest.
"Bertie," he started and hesitated. " mhmm, I, uh, have a favor to ask of you. Under the circumstances, it sounds kind of strange, especially given our history, the contentious part and the more recent part.
"Until that afternoon in your office, I was, for all intents and purposes, still a virgin..."
"What?" Bertie exclaimed. "I find that..."
"Hard to believe? I understand, but it's true. I told you about Astarte. She has been guiding me and procuring women for me, in a sense. And it's been great. All I have to do is tell a woman I want to have sex with her, and she is immediately ready for me. But I have the feeling there is something I'm missing out on. Actually a couple of somethings, but there's only one you can help me with tonight.
"Can you show me how to make love? Not just the screwing part, but the seduction and foreplay phases?" He had carefully worded his request to avoid expressing it so Astarte's spell was activated.
"I have no idea how to get from 'I'm glad to meet you,' to 'let's get naked;' and in bed, I know most of the basics, but not how to insure that my partner is having a good time. I can use Astarte's spell to make that happen, but I would rather be able to make it happen myself. Can you, will you help me?" Just then a timer sounded in the kitchen.
"Ah, time for the biscuits to come out," he said, and jumped up to leave.
Bertie stood up with him. "You made biscuits?" He nodded, looking at her puzzled. "I'm sorry for doubting you, but I don't know many men your age who can fry an egg, let alone make biscuits. That is a very good first step in the skill set you want to learn. What else are we having this evening?"
"Broiled lamb chops, baked potato, garden salad, and crepes with brandied fruit sauce."
"And you did it all?" He nodded. She walked up to him and reached up to kiss him. "There are a whole lot of women, older, to be sure, but not that old, who would take you to bed right now."
She watched him pull out the biscuits and put them in the serving basket. "What can I do?"
"The salad's in the fridge, and needs to be tossed with the dressing, on the door in the cruet with the red band around its neck." He slipped the broiler pan into the oven and closed the door part way, then turned up the broiler.
"I have to apologize," he said. "Dr. Hill doesn't keep a wine cellar, and I didn't get a chance to stop except at the grocery store. All I have to serve with dinner is beer."
"Beer's fi...wait! Where's my bag? I brought a bottle of burgundy, figuring it would go with everything but fish." She flashed him a smile. "And of course, it'll help get us in the mood for our teaching session later."
He grinned and walked up to her. "Thank you," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her, parting her lips with his tongue.
Dinner was done; the kitchen cleaned up with many appreciative comments from Bertie on how lucky some woman was going to be. There had been an hour or so of cuddling, dancing, kissing and such in the living room afterwards as Bertie coached him in the fine art of making out.
There had been some exploration, over clothing, of each other's more evident physical attributes, accompanied by moans and sighs from both of them. When Deon's hand had slipped between her thighs to lightly grip her vulva, Bertie had suggested they retire to the bedroom.
Fingers fumbled, hands interfered, tongues intermingled, and feet got tangled as the May/December pair rushed to shed their clothing. Finally Bertie, with a laugh, cried, "Stop!" Deon stopped trying to pull her shirt over her head and looked at her, his face angst ridden. Seeing his expression, Bertie laughed again and pulled his face to hers to kiss him.
"Oh, Deon, my lovely boy. It's just that we are trying so hard to get undressed, we're getting in our own way, trying to hurry. Let me undress you first, then you can finish undressing me and then we can continue your training."
Deon grinned and nodded, not trusting himself to speak plainly. Bertie unbuttoned the last button on his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. She dropped to her knees and pulled off his loafers and socks, then removed his slacks. Looking up at his face, she reached for the waistband of his jockeys and slowly pulled them down over his hips.
Without looking, she reached for his phallus and pulled it to her lips, and gently kissed it, then ran her tongue over the glans. After another kiss, which involved engulfing the glans with her mouth, she rocked back on her heels and stood up. "Your turn," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Deon smiled and reached to finish unbuttoning her blouse. "Remember," she said, "eager is good, but taking your time will heighten the anticipation and her arousal. Since you've gotten to this point, touching is encouraged, especially what might be called incidental touching, brushing the breasts with your arms or the back of your hand; pushing your hips into hers when you reach around to unfasten her brassiere; sliding your hands over her buttocks as you drop her top, and push off her slacks or panties. Mmm, that's right.
"At this point everything is allowed; indeed, pretty much expected. Go ahead and explore her body, whether it's your first time with her, or your twentieth. That's nice, like that. Make her feel like it's your first time together every time. She'll let you know when it's time to move forward.
"Unless she tells you or shows you she wants a firm or harder approach, gentle is the way to go. Not so lightly it tickles, but definitely a caress, a petting motion. Yesss. Like that. Feel my puss. See how wet I am? That is the signal I'm ready for penetration." She led him to the bed and lay down beside him.
"If you know, or think, she is a virgin, then the best position to start with is the cowgirl, or woman on top. This lets her control the speed and pressure to beak her cherry. Otherwise, the missionary position is best for your first time together, especially if you're planning to see her again. That position puts you face to face so you can see how she is responding to you.
"Come over me now. That's good; now in...ahhh...yesss." Bertie wrapped her legs around Deon's hips and back and reached up to take his ear lobe between her teeth. "Now, Deon Davies, fuck me!"
When Deon began to move in her, she thrust her hips up to meet him. Fully aroused from his touches and caresses as she was instructing him, she had her first climax almost immediately. Her arms and legs clinched Deon so tightly he could barely move until her period of rigor passed and her limbs relaxed. As he resumed his pumping motion, she softly moaned, "Yesss. That's good; slow now, for a bit."
She turned her head slightly, capturing his lips for a full-on tongue wrestling kiss. Before they were done, her hips were thrusting back up to meet his, slamming against his pubes, coaxing him to pump harder and faster until, at last, she felt the explosion of his seed deep within her love canal, triggering her second orgasm.
Deon collapsed on her, supporting most of his weight on his elbows. He pushed his arms under her and held her to his chest as he caught his breath. Without withdrawing, he rolled off her, turning her on her side to face him. His hands slowly stroked her back and butt as they recovered. "Mmm," she purred, "that feels nice." She tucked her head under his chin and hugged him tightly. After a moment, he heard her sigh, then she spoke.
"If I were fifteen or twenty years younger, you'd be a definite danger to my marriage. I just hope you are as good at learning art history as you are learning how to make love."
Deon gently pushed her on to her back and shifted his position to lie over her, and pushed his groin into her vulva. He lifted and pushed her legs so her knees rested on her breasts and her ankles were by his ears. Then he crossed his legs behind him and, lifting her, sat back. By the time he was sitting, he was erect, and slid into her quim. "Oooohhh mmmm, that was a nice surprise," cooed Bertie.
Deon smiled and kissed her, grazing her lips with his tongue. "Bertie, I would never do anything to threaten your marriage, or endanger either it or your position at school. At the end of the first course I had with you, I would have cheerfully run you over with a large truck." Bertie smiled, nodding. "But this last two weeks, especially tonight, have shown me what a beautiful person you are. In spite of the rocky start, you have been a warm, willing and generous partner. I'm going to ask Astarte to somehow shield you from her gift..."
Bertie put her fingers over his mouth. "No, don't, please. I like it that I don't have a choice with you, except to enjoy it or not. Being with you is the one place in my life where I don't have to make decisions, where somebody else is in charge. Let me keep it. Please."
Deon cocked his head to one side and looked at her, her face framed by her legs. After a few seconds, he grinned and nodded. "What will Fred say when you tell him I want to have you once a week until I get my Master's degree?"
Bertie felt a sensation similar to an orgasmic spasm ripple up her vaginal sheath, and spread to her abdomen and breasts. "OMG!" she gasped, "what was that?"
Deon leaned forward to kiss her, letting her legs drop to encircle his hips. "That, Bertie dear, was a shiver of anticipation. Do you know your pussy just got wetter and hotter?" He slipped his tongue into her mouth and played tag with hers. "And I just got harder," he said, pushing his hips forward.
Bertie threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. "Did anyone ever tell you," she asked, capturing his lips with hers, "that you talk too fucking much?"
The next morning, over breakfast, they arranged for Bertie to spend Wednesday nights with Deon, at his house, until his sister, Sally, moved in, not expected until the weekend before classes started. "What will you tell Fred?" Deon asked.
