Lesson With Best Freinds Dad

Of all the memories I have of being 19 and having an affair with my best friend's dad, the one that I think about most often is the first blow job lesson he gave me. He loved oral, both giving and receiving, and he wanted to make sure I knew how to enjoy both.

"For most guys truly good head is a once in a lifetime thing. If you know how to do it right a guy will remember you for the rest of his life."

He said this to me before we really started anything serious, we were in his bed after sex just talking, and he was going on about the value of good oral.

The idea intrigued me greatly, most of my friends hated giving head — or at least hated doing it for more than a few minutes. I was interested in approaching the whole thing a bit differently. I didn't want to hate doing something the guy I was with loved. It seemed like a source of endless friction. I wanted a kind of explosive partnership that was much more intentional about mutually being the best for your partner than passively hoping for their infallibility.

I don't like the middle of the road, if I was going to do something at all, I wanted to do all of it — be the best at it, or at least take it to it's farthest end and experience it fully. Why be a bear at all if you're not going to be a grizzly? When I was younger I denied myself cream and sugar for a long time, until I learned to love the taste of coffee without it, and now I'll never need cream or sugar. When something is good for you, you just have to learn how to love it.

All this to say, he wanted to give me blow job lessons, and I was ready to be a very good student. I knew that not every man was going to like what Steve liked, but I figured it would be easiest to adjust from guy to guy when I at least knew one really well. Like how learning your second foreign language is a lot easier than learning your first.

One afternoon I was packing an overnight bag to meet Steve at his lake house when he texted me:

You'll learn about blow jobs tonight. Come very hydrated.

I grabbed a water bottle and sipped drank it on the short drive to the lake house. When I parked I saw he was waiting for me. Seated on the porch with his back against one of the cedar posts, reading something, or pretending to read at least while he waited for me. He looked so handsome like that.

"How's school?" he asked. I laughed, it was funny to him that I was a student, that I was so much younger than him. It turned me on as well — and I couldn't tell if it was his pleasure at the situation or my own curiosity about someone with a few decades of experience on me.

He poured us some wine inside the house and I drank nervously — he always made me nervous, it was part of his charm. Even when we just talked he stood closer to me than a person normally would. It intimidated and excited me. I took a step back and hopped up on the counter, he stood between my legs and kissed me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into him tightly, making the kiss more urgent than casual. I wanted to lay on the counter and feel his weight on top of me right then, but I knew that wasn't his plan for the night.

"Can we just have sex first?" I asked, a bit breathless from his advance and finding an irresistible urge inside me to get a quick fix in.

"No..." He moved from kissing my mouth to my neck. "It's good to delay gratification a bit. It makes it better, you'll see." It was impossible to see how he could be right, but all I could do was try to persuade him through other means. Maybe if I started to rub his cock he'd be overcome by the same lust that was making my brain fuzzy. I reached my hand down and felt him, he was definitely hard. But he merely grabbed my hand and deposited back on the counter.

He made us cook dinner then. I've never seen anyone look so sexy while dicing vegetables but I couldn't think about anything else. Everything was sex. Chopping vegetables was sex. Stirring a sauce was sex. Watching his mouth while he drank wine was sex.

I was quiet while we ate. I preferred to stare at his mouth and hands and fantasize about the place on my body I'd put them rather than make polite conversation. As if he could read my mind he was patient with my silence, the corners of his mouth turning up when he caught me lost in thought, my eyes focused on him.

I placed my dishes by the sink after dinner, expecting him to tell me we had to clean up first, too. But I felt his mouth on the back of my neck, his arm reaching around me stomach and pulling me backwards into his body. He reached one hand forward and cupped me between my legs and I felt myself coming undone with anticipation.

"Let's go upstairs."

He brought me to his bed where he sat, and I kneeled in front of him. He looked so loving when he looked at me.

"You should always start playfully. Don't be too quick at it. You should act like all you want in the world is the guy to cum, but you're not in a big hurry to get it over with. Run your tongue around the edge of the head, especially on the underside. And then when you start taking it in your mouth, hide your teeth behind your lips."

I did all these things for a moment, it felt a bit disjointed but I noticed his hips writhing a bit and it became more natural, more fun. It wasn't my first blow job, but it was my first time trying to do something specific, or even trying really hard at it.

I tried to remember what he said and smiled internally (something someone told me about coming off as having a good time once) before running my lips up and down his shaft, pausing at the tip to lick my way around it and then taking more of it in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it when I slowly pulled it out.

He stood up then, and steadied my head between his hands while he helped me get the rhythm down, pushing himself in and out of my mouth.

He stopped me while I was catching my breath and lifted my face with a few fingers under my chin. "Men want to admire your face while you're doing this. You look so good with my cock in your mouth," he pushed himself back in my mouth, watching me intently as he pushed himself in and out again. He must have been right, I'd never seen his face look like this before. He was so focused, even if just to memorize the moment.

"Curl your tongue, make a snug bed for my cock." "Cup the balls. Don't play with them separately, but as a unit." I followed his instructions.

All of this is, I guess, considered a warm-up. When he's really ready to start Steve told me coordination is important. I needed to move my mouth in sync with my hands so it felt like one thing was happening instead of two separate things.

"See if you can catch your breath while you still keep it in your mouth. Just relax your lips over just the head and pull on it, breathe through your nose."

I tried this and it was unexpectedly easy — but probably because I knew he was expecting me to stop and test this out.

"You can always ask a man what he likes you to do. I like to get deep inside. I want to feel your throat. It mimics sex, but it's more relaxing. And more exciting." I was nervous about this part, but the good kind of nervous, because I knew I'd be happy I did it. And he made me feel very safe. I took him back in my mouth and allowed him to move his hips forward while holding me in place. This is where I discovered my own trick, when I resisted my urge to back off, I found my mouth suddenly filled with my own saliva. My body produced more of what I needed when I pushed it to the edge, and I suddenly had lube for my hand to run up and down his shaft.

He wrapped his hand around mine and showed me the speed and firmness he liked, keeping his other hand on the back of my head to keep us in sync, every few moments removing our hands and hitting my throat with his cock.

"When I speed up, it means you're doing a good job. I'm getting closer." He told me, as he speed up our routine.

He told me that some guys like you to go until completion and others just want to warm up for sex, they want the act of finishing inside you, it's a primal instinct. He was of the latter persuasion.

"When a man says he's about to cum, keep doing what you are doing, and if he is guiding you, let him take over. He knows what he needs."

I removed my hand from his cock and ran them up and down his thighs to signal that I was willing to do this. I looked up at him as I suddenly felt salty precum in my mouth. He was looking at me intently, pumping in and out of his mouth. I struggled not to move even though his groans were really turning me on. Finally I felt him break rhythm and push himself deep inside my mouth, depositing his semen down the back of it. It was always a bit difficult not to gag with the surprise of a guy cumming in your mouth, but since it was so far back, it was easier as it was already being swallowed by the time I realized what was happening.

He fell back onto the bed behind him. "Goddddd Adrienne, you're already very good at this."

This wasn't the last blow job lesson, we usually practiced before sex from then on, but they got quicker — which I took as a compliment.