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.
