I had an overnight layover at LAX on my way to my next assignment to a major base outside of Tokyo. So, since my favorite cousin, Alsace, lived nearby and I hadn't seen her in a couple of years, I gave her a call.
When we were in High School and College, she was always there for me whenever I had a broken heart, which was more frequently than I wish to recount. Among my relatives, I guess she was my best friend. I always felt I could tell her anything. Sadly, we had to restrict our visits to the telephone since she moved to Los Angeles. We would have a lot to catch up on.
She sounded really glad to hear from me and immediately insisted that I stay at her place; she could take me to the airport in the morning to catch my flight, and she'd throw in a home cooked steak dinner too. How could I pass up a sweet deal like that?
Alsace is my first cousin and a fantastic beauty. At 5'10", 32, slim, dark eyes, full lips, raven hair and ample breasts, any man would find her irresistible. Smart too! She is a partner in a successful accounting firm. The most important bit of news that I eagerly awaited her telling me all about was her fiancé, Gene, whom I had not yet met, and probably would not this trip since he worked in San Francisco and they only got together on weekends.
When the taxi dropped me off at her place, Alsace met me at the door with a rusty nail [my favorite drink] and an exuberantly warm hug. She was stunningly dressed in patent leather heels, a straight black skirt and a black and white striped silk blouse under a black jacket, suitable business attire; she must have just gotten home from work. She showed me to the guest room to drop my bags and then to the bathroom off the master bedroom in the small but adequate apartment, to take a shower, [which she apparently discovered I needed badly when she hugged me.] She offered me a folded black terrycloth robe a fresh bar of black Magno bath soap and a freshly poured rusty nail, and left me to my ablutions.
Her shower sported one of those hand held shower heads with a half a dozen settings; I tried them all. I especially liked the vibrating pulse settings that woke up those hard to reach places that tend to fall asleep on long flights. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that some of the more aggressive settings could provide quite a jolt if aimed at one's balls!
"The bathroom is all yours", I declared emerging after about 20 minutes in the black robe, showered and shaved, and renewed, but hungry as a bear! I hadn't eaten anything but snacks since breakfast before dawn, and it was already 6:30 PM [plus 3 hours from New York time,] dead of night in this season.
"Great, I'm next. All you need to do is watch the steaks, I just put them in. I'll be out in a jiffy." And she disappeared into her bedroom.
The table was already set, salad tossed and the open bottle of California rose` and almost empty glass indicated that I wasn't too far ahead of Alsace in the alcohol department.
Her entrance in her own terrycloth robe, this one in white, was a matter of perfect timing, as I was just taking the steaks out of the broiler. She had tied her hair up in a ponytail with a white satin ribbon. "Tell me all about him," I prompted.
"Frankie, he's wonderful! 6 foot, dark hair, athletic, he plays racquetball, and successful; he has his own law office, franchise law!" Turning, she took his picture off the mantle over the fireplace where a fire was roaring. She stretched it out to me with her left hand showing off her huge diamond engagement ring, [a motion she has been practicing on all her girlfriends, no doubt.] He was a good looking man, kinda like a masculine Rock Hudson.
As we consumed the meal, she filled me in on all the incidentals: his car, his house, where he has taken her on vacation and weekends, how well he treats her, and so on. I sat back in my chair, having emptied my plate, and sipped on my second glass of wine. Having reached a sufficient state of inebriation, I felt comfortable enough to ask the only real question that hadn't already been answered yet, "How is he in bed?"
Alsace blanched and dropped her hands to her lap; she lowered her head, licked her lips and sheepishly replied, "I'm still a virgin."
Wow, I was floored! "Come on, a fox like you? Surely it couldn't be for lack of hounds."
"Mamma, taught me to wait for marriage, I just didn't think it would take this long."
"How does Gene feel about this?" I pried.
"Oh ... well ... we've ... talked about it, and he's OK with waiting for the honeymoon, but I can tell he's terribly frustrated."
"I'll bet he is!" I smiled and took another sip of my drink. Alsace emptied her glass and poured another, polishing off the second bottle.
She took a long swallow and continued, "He suggested oral sex, but I feel so stupid ... Look, you're my cousin ... I can talk with you about this, can't I?"
"Of course you can, I'm here for you," finally an opportunity for payback after all the times I cried on her shoulder.
"Then, can you teach me what to do?" I almost choked on my drink. We had always been close, but I never expected her to leap that far! She must have had more to drink than I thought. It's one thing to talk about it, another thing entirely to teach someone the specifics. Well, we are cousins, and I guess we should be helping each other with seriously confidential things, right?
"Sure, you came to the right guy; I have taught several of my lady loves the art of fellatio over the years. Let's retire to the living room and get more comfortable." I grabbed our drinks.
The living room was well appointed in white, with a leather sectional, and chairs. The dark hardwood floor was covered with flokati rugs. The fire was gas, and gave off enough heat on this chilly evening that I felt comfortable enough to open my robe a bit at the top as I sat in one of two overstuffed chairs. Alsace took the other, facing me.
I donned my professorial role, "Well, first thing I want to say is that we should treat this subject academically, clinically if you will. In order to reduce any potential for embarrassment, I will, whenever possible, use clinical terms, expanding into slang to broaden your vocabulary."
"OK, sounds like an approach I can deal with."
"I guess we really need to begin with determining your current level of experience. Have you tried to fellate Gene? That is, did you attempt to suck his cock when he suggested it?"
She clutched at the neck of her robe, and sank further into her chair. "No ... I - I was afraid I might ... I don't know ... hurt him. I don't know what to do," she wined.
"OK, that's reasonable. Have you brought him to climax through masturbation, in other words you have jerked him off, haven't you?"
"No."
"Hmm, have you touched his penis?"
"No."
"Have you even seen his penis?" This was getting more and more unbelievable every second. This guy must be a saint!
"He wanted to show it to me, but I was too embarrassed, and afraid of where it might lead. I know he really loves me, and wants to make love with me ..." she trailed off in a desperate voice.
He must! I continued, "Have you ever even seen an adult man's penis, other than in a photograph?"
"Uh-uh." She shook her head softly, her long black ponytail waving back and forth.
I opened my robe and brazenly exposed my now stiff member, "Allow me to introduce you to Dick! This is what an erect adult penis looks like." She dropped her hand from her neckline and grasped the arms of her chair with a death grip that spoke of the stress she was feeling, and immediately looked away. Then after a moment, almost beyond her control, she looked back. Her eyes got big, and she sat forward in her chair.
"Oh ... it's so ... large!" she exclaimed almost breathlessly.
"No, actually it's pretty average. Some are smaller, many are larger. I wouldn't be surprised if Gene sports one larger than this one. But, don't worry; I'm sure he'll be very gentle with you."
Then, not wanting to lose credibility with my new student, I continued in my own defense, "As you've probably already heard, 'it's what you do with what you've got, and never mind how much you've got.'"
"Hmm, Brer Rabbit," she remarked. She was always able to catch my references. I loved that about her.
"Precisely ...," I stood and went into the kitchen, walking past her with my robe wide open so she could get a good look. I returned with refreshed drinks, straight scotch this time, a single malt from her well stocked bar. She took hers and drank half of it down with a gulp, then realizing too late that this was not wine, almost choked, then giggled. I sat back with my robe wide open and spread my legs so she could have an unobstructed view of my balls. My penis twitched every few seconds as I waited for her to say something.
She was riveted, touching her lower lip with her index finger.
After what seemed like an extraordinarily long pause, she softly entreated, "May I touch it?"
"Of course. Why don't you come closer and sit here," I took a cushion from the couch and placed it on the floor in front of me, "so you can get a good view, and I'll point out some features and terms."
She came over and demurely sat before my spread legs, making sure her breasts were not exposed. She anxiously reached out with one finger and gently poked at my engorged joy stick, then giggled.
"That part of the penis is called the shaft, above it is called the corona or hood, sometimes called the head, on the end is the little hole indicating the end of the urethra, commonly referred to as the pee hole, where the urine and semen comes out. Not at the same time. Below the penis is the scrotum which contains the testicles, usually just called balls. They are very delicate, but I trust you to cup them gently in your hand ... that's good. Now knead them ... GENTLY... that's it. Now holding my ball sack in one hand, grasp the shaft firmly, but lightly with the other and stroke it slowly up and down, sliding the loose skin over the shaft and the head. The slower you go, the longer the experience can be prolonged and the climax all the greater.
"Have you really never done this before? You pick things up quickly, you might be a natural."
