Lessons Ch. 01

Friday Afternoon

The week passed as usual, filled with schoolwork during the day and early evenings; her own writing late at night. Margaret's life was boring and predictable. This week had been a little different though. She had frequently found her thoughts drifting to Josh. He was beautiful; so young and strong. Each time, his image appeared in her mind, she felt herself beginning to respond to him. A few times, she had found herself picturing his face as she wrote her stories. "I wonder if the rest of his body is as beautiful as his face?" Somehow she knew that it was. She closed her eyes and imagined his naked body before her.

"Ms. Wilkes?" she heard a familiar voice say. "May I come in?"

Startled, she opened her eyes. Josh stood before her. His frame filled the doorway to her office. He was dressed in faded old blue jeans, a denim shirt with way too many buttons opened, and black cowboy boots. From her sitting position behind her desk, and with those boots, he seemed even bigger and taller than before.

"Oh hi, Josh," she managed to say. "Come in."

He walked slowly into her office, clearly unsure of what to say next.

"Were you here talking with Professor Butler?" she offered.

"Yes, ma'am. I just thought I'd poke my head in and ask about your computer. Is it still running smoothly?"

She could sense how nervous he was. She was aware of how nervous she was. "This is silly," she thought. "Oh, it seems fine again. Thanks for whatever it is you did; de-frag something or other?"

He laughed and when he did, looked up for a minute. She saw his smile and the twinkle in his eyes before he quickly looked down again.

"This kid is really nervous," she thought. He only seems comfortable when discussing computers. She began to question if he was as successful with the co-eds as she had previously considered. His social skills were awkward at best. She wondered about his family and his upbringing. Again, she found herself contemplating the unusual mix of attributes, present in this young man.

"Josh, tell me how you learned so much about computers. Did your dad teach you? Did you take classes?"

"No, dad was never home; always working" he said. "And when he was home, he never seemed to want much to do with me. There wasn't a lot of extra money for classes or new computers. I'm self-taught. I used to pillage the garbage piles in the neighborhood for old computers. I'd take them into my bedroom and spend hours puttering with them; taking them apart and putting them back together again. As soon as I could, I got a job working for a small computer shop in town. I learned a lot from the guy who owned it. He helped me buy the components I needed to build my own system. I've been working on computers since I was about 8 or 9 years old."

"Well I'm impressed," Margaret said. "I know nothing about them; barely enough to do my school work and my own writing." She thought she saw him blush slightly and remembered about the stories. "He really did read some of them," she thought. "I often think I need a technology tutor." she laughed.

"Well, I could show you a few things, if you'd like," Josh offered shyly.

"Would you?" Margaret asked without even thinking.

"Sure," he said. "When would you like to start?"

"How about tomorrow?" she asked.

"Well, I'll be working at Anderson's till 5:00 PM. I could come over then," he hesitated and then added, "If you don't have any evening plans."

"Great. I can get my errands done and work some in my garden. I'll see you tomorrow then for Computer 101."

"I'll be by around 6:00 PM if that's OK," he said as he stood up to leave.

"I'm looking forward to it, Josh," she said.

He blushed again and walked quickly out the door.

Saturday Morning

Margaret loved the weekends; loved being able to wake up at her own pace, taking her time with her coffee. She often found herself spending most of the morning at her computer writing. She was so drawn to pour forth onto the blank screen, the jumbled up realities of her past life and her still to be fulfilled future life. The richest part of Margaret's life in this sleepy little college town, were her fantasies.

Margaret had taken the job at the college and moved here two years ago. It was a great career opportunity for her; more prestigious than her adjunct position at the community college; more money and a lower cost of living. The decision to move seemed easy.

There had been really only one factor that had complicated her decision. Lee. She had left him behind. "Oh don't go there," she told herself. "It's over. The choice was made. It's been two years. Get on with your life." She did, some days more easily than others.

She stretched and closed her eyes for a few more minutes. "No hurry," she thought.

She lay there in her bed, with the bright sun streaming down, warming her body and allowed herself just a few more minutes to remember Lee. Weekend mornings had been one of her favorite times with him. With no jobs to run off to, they could spend the morning together in bed if they chose; and they often did.

Margaret loved to wake up to the feel of a warm stiff penis pressing into her bottom. She rolled over onto her side. The memory of Lee's body spooning into hers was so vivid as to be real. She could feel the solid strength of him. She remembered the intentionality of his lovemaking. Lee took pleasure seriously. He was the most incredible lover that she had ever been with.

She could feel the moistness growing between her legs as she remembered the feel of his arm coming around to grab her breast. She almost felt him push against her bottom a little harder. She would move her hips back and wiggle against him to allow him greater accessibility to her already wet vagina. His fingers would gently tweak her nipple. She could feel the warmth of his breathing against the back of her neck. "Good morning sweetheart," he'd whisper.

Time seemed to stand still whenever their bodies came together. Minutes turned into hours as they savored the sweet pleasure of each other's bodies. She had teased him, that he couldn't "do a quickie." Making love with Lee had always been a full gourmet meal. He didn't skip a course. She was offered anything and everything she wanted, for as long as she wanted it. Finally, when she was full to overflowing with satisfaction, he served up dessert. She had loved the feel of his orgasm inside her. It was the moment when all the power and strength of him, coupled with his vulnerability, poured into the welcoming warmth of her body.

But that was all only a memory now, bittersweet.

The phone broke the spell. She reached over to answer it, aware that as she said hello, her voice was trembling. A telemarketer. Oh well, she really should get up and start her day.

Margaret's Saturdays were usually filled with some light housekeeping, changing the sheets, washing the towels, grocery shopping and errands. Today was no different. She moved through the morning quickly, wanting to spend some time in her garden this afternoon. And then she remembered. Josh. "Have I done the right thing?" she asked herself. "He's a student. Not one of mine, granted, but a student; a graduate student, though, and only eight years her junior. That wasn't even a generation difference in their ages. There wasn't a clear line here." She continued to ponder the pros and cons as she moved through her day. Finally, going over it in her mind for the umpteenth time, she said out loud to herself, "Margaret, this is ridiculous. He's an adult. You're an adult. You have no influence over his academic career. You're attracted to him. Maybe he's attracted to you. Maybe he's just a genuinely nice guy who is willing to help you with your computer. Whatever the case, relax."

Saturday Evening

Margaret poured herself a glass of wine and settled down to wait for Josh. She had showered the garden dirt off her body and slipped into a summery cotton dress. She had thrown a light sweater over her shoulders when she decided to wait outside on the porch. The evening was beautiful. The sun was beginning to set and colored the sky with magnificent colors of orange and purple and red. She could hear the crickets chirping and watched the tulips dancing in the gentle evening breeze.

She hadn't been waiting long when a strange car pulled into the drive. It was an old Ford Mustang convertible. Red; her favorite color. The top was down, which allowed her to quickly discern that it was Josh. Of course, he's not working now. No Anderson Computer van.

She watched him as he got out and began to walk toward the front porch. He was a big kid, but moved with the confident grace that usually came from years of participation in sports. "I'll have to remember to ask him about that," she thought, standing up to greet him.

"Welcome, Josh. You're right on time. I like that."

He smiled shyly. His eyes met hers briefly. He said, "Hi, Ms. Wilkes," before looking down at his feet again.

"Margaret," she said, offering her hand. "My name is Margaret. I'd like you to call me Margaret. Ms. Wilkes reminds me of my mother."

She thought she heard him chuckle softly as he said, "Hi, Margaret."

Gosh, he's even more nervous than I am, she thought. Let's get going on the computer lesson. That seems to calm him down. "Follow me to the computer, Josh. I'm ready for lesson one."

They walked together into the house and she led him again to her bedroom. The lights were off. She walked around and quickly turned a few on, illuminating the room with soft light. He walked over and sat down at her computer. He flipped some switches and she heard it begin to boot up. "Is there a chair that we can move over here, Margaret," he asked awkwardly, "Someplace for you to sit down?"

"There's a vanity stool in the bathroom. I'll get it."

"No, let me," he said, rising quickly. He looked around, saw the open door and moved toward it. His instincts were correct. He found himself in her bathroom. He reached for the light switch, again instinctively knowing right where it would be and immediately was surrounded by the familiar smell of her perfume. He remembered it filling her office at the college yesterday, too. He breathed in deeply as he bent for the stool.

She watched as he carried the stool into the bedroom and set it next to the chair in front of the computer. He sat down. She moved to take her place on the stool. As she sat down next to him, her thigh brushed against his. Her dress fell open to reveal her legs. She quickly reached to cover herself, aware of his eyes on her.

The lesson began. "I'm going to assume that you'd don't know much at all. That's what you told me. Stop me if I'm explaining stuff that you already understand."

Josh's voice was calm and confident as he explained a variety of different bits of information designed to help her feel more comfortable using the computer. She listened intently, aware of the clear and easy communication style that he had. It was easy to listen to him and easy to follow the logic of his mind. He seemed to sense the best way to explain things to her in a way that she would understand.

Outside the sun set and the sky turned dark. Neither of them was aware of the passage of time. Their focus was on each other and the lesson at hand. In the quiet of the bedroom, Josh's voice filled the room. Then she heard the familiar sound of a hungry stomach. She realized that she had never eaten dinner. She tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away. No such luck. The growling of her stomach only intensified, growing more consistent and louder. Unable to ignore it any longer, she said, "Josh, I'm really hungry, as you can probably tell. I just realized that I never had dinner. Do you want something to eat?"

"Well, OK. I guess I didn't really eat either." He shut the computer down and turned toward her. Still not looking directly into her eyes, he continued, "Would you like to grab a burger at the diner?"

"That sounds great," she said. "Just let me get my purse."

As they walked out onto the porch, they noticed how dark it had gotten. "Well, no wonder I'm hungry," she said looking at her watch," it's almost 9:00 PM."

"If it's OK with you, Margaret, I can drive us; that is if you are comfortable in a convertible, or I can put the top up if you'd prefer," he stammered.

"The top down would be perfect, Josh."

He quickly walked around to open the passenger door for her. She settled herself into the soft leather seats as he made his way around. She looked down to notice it was a stick. "What fun," she thought to herself.

He started the car and eased it out of the driveway. They were quiet during the short drive to the diner. They walked in and no one was there, except for Sally, the waitress. She seemed to live there. She was wiping off the counters.

"Are you closed?" Josh asked.

"Not yet," Sally said. "Soon. I think everyone got their bar-b-que grills out tonight; first nice evening of the season. Sit anywhere you want."

They sat in a booth by the window and ordered burgers, fries and chocolate shakes. This is just like being a kid again, Margaret thought. She was suddenly aware that most of her nervousness had disappeared. In the background the jukebox was playing old songs from the late 60's and early 70's. Margaret couldn't help herself and began to sing along. Josh squirmed a bit on his side of the booth. Margaret didn't notice. She was having a great time.

Their meal arrived and they chatted while they ate. Well, actually, Margaret chatted. Josh didn't say much. Without the computer to talk about, he was clearly nervous with her. Sally took their plates when they finished. She told them that she hoped to close up and be home with her feet up and a cold beer in her hand in about 30 minutes.

The jukebox continued to play. When she heard the familiar opening bars of her favorite Beatles song, "Something", Margaret jumped from her seat and grabbed Josh's hand. "Dance with me," she said impulsively. Reluctantly, he rose from the booth and they moved together into an open area in the diner. She stood before him and looked up into his face. "Oh Josh, I'm sorry. Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"No, it's fine, Margaret. I'm just a little out of practice. Not as good on the dance floor as on a computer," he said as he opened his arms to her awkwardly.

She moved close to him. She was aware of one arm coming around her, a hand resting on her waist. The other grasped her hand gently, but firmly. She felt him pull her into contact with his body and they began to slowly respond to the music. Margaret had forgotten the pure pleasure of dancing with a strong partner. She melted into his arms. She sensed that he too was beginning to relax a bit. They danced in silence as the sultry sounds of George Harrison's love song filled the diner. Their bodies moved like they had been doing this together for years. The evening was clearly no longer about computer lessons. "It seems so natural and comfortable with him," Margaret thought. Just as the song came to an end, Sally began to shut off the lights. It was time to leave.

They walked slowly to his car. Now, there was a different kind of tension in the air. The dance had clearly shifted the focus and they were both even more nervous that before. He held open the door and she climbed into the car. They drove back to her house in silence; each wrapped up in their own new and confusing emotions.

He pulled into the driveway and shut off the car. He turned to her; still not looking directly into her eyes. "Margaret," he began, his voice cracking, "I'm not at all sorry about anything that has happened this evening. I've been aware of you for months now. I've been trying to work up the courage to talk to you. Then, Mr. Anderson asked me to make a service call at your house and...well, you know the rest." He paused, clearly now at a loss as to what to say next.

Margaret looked at him. This wasn't what she had expected. She had been worried about her newly discovered responses to him; afraid that her feelings were inappropriate or would be rebuffed, or both. All the while, never dreaming that he would have similar feeling about her.

"I'd be happy to continue your computer lessons," he started, "if you're OK with that."

"I'd like that, Josh," she said quietly.

He walked her to the front door. "Well, good night then," he said as he turned to leave.

"Josh," Margaret whispered.

He turned back to her.

"I'm not sorry about anything that happened this evening either."

The house was dark and quiet when she let herself in. She watched as Josh walked back to his car. He seemed to hesitate a moment before backing out of the drive.

"I wish you'd come back," Margaret said softly, "I wish I hadn't let you go."

She walked slowly to her bedroom. She undressed in the dark. The light of the moon shown down on her bed. She slipped naked between the sheets. Closing her eyes, her hands immediately found their way to her breasts. She gently massaged them; one in each hand. She rolled her nipples between her fingers. She leaned over and took one nipple in her mouth. She sucked; softly, then more firmly. She teased the tight hard nipple with her teeth.

Margaret could feel her desire rising to the surface. She was a highly sexual woman and understood and valued her primary sexual relationship -- with herself. Even when she enjoyed the regular attentions of a lover, Margaret stayed in touch with her own body. She liked the feel of her own skin, luxuriated in the sense of her own touch; practiced different pressures, learning what she preferred. Margaret firmly believed that a great sexual relationship with another, was based on, and must begin with, a great sexual relationship with one's self.

Margaret continued to tease her breasts. One hand moved to her face and she slowly outlined the shapes of her features. She trailed her fingers lightly around the sockets of her eyes, across her forehead and down her nose. She gently brushed across her lips; opening them to her fingers. She slid the tips along the cool smoothness of her teeth. She sucked gently on her fingers. As she reveled in the feelings growing in her body, Margaret's focus shifted from the pleasure of her own hands on her body to the fantasy of Josh's hands on her body.

She moaned. Her hips began to move and arch gently off the bed. The sexual tension in her body was growing. Her hands moved down from her waist and across her hips. Her figure was full and lush. There were rich curves and soft padding everywhere on Margaret. Her body was classic female; large, full breasts, narrower waist, wide, ample hips, softly rounded bottom and curvy legs. Margaret really liked her body and was genuinely appreciative of the many wonderful pleasures it provided for her. She laughed. She often remarked in conversation that she considered herself to be a hedonist. It always brought raised eyebrows and awkward laughter. But it was true. She was not ashamed of anything about herself.

As Margaret pleasured herself with her fingers and hands, her thoughts never drifted far from Josh. She saw his face in her mind's eye and imagined the feel of his fingers, his hands and his body on hers. She reached to find her favorite vibrator under her pillow. She turned the base and felt it come alive in her hand. Moving it down between her legs, Margaret felt her already warm, moist vulva. She rubbed the head of the penis shaped vibrator against her clitoris. The sensations were intense. She stroked and the vibrations worked their magic. Her body was clearly engaged and moving toward release. The tightness of her nipples moved into her clit. It became full and engorged, much like a penis. Her own body's fluids made her whole vaginal area slippery and smooth. She pushed the limits of her own endurance. She wanted something inside her now.