Lessons with Lydia

Author's Note:

I have really embraced this contest, perhaps because I so miserably misinterpreted an earlier one. I'd like to think I'm catching on. In my mind Earth Day is about learning something new about the environment. I've never bird-watched, but the idea intrigued me. I researched and learned quite a bit while writing this story. I hope you'll learn a little as well.

*

My father was an international businessman working for a very large and successful produce conglomerate. My mother was the daughter of an affluent Southern political figure. And I was their only child. Although we visited the United States on occasion, it was a place I never had the luxury of calling home. Instead we lived in exotic locales such as Panama, Argentina, and Brazil. Just after my eighteenth birthday we moved to Spain, just west of Teruel.

"If Warren won't go to college, then we at least need to get him a tutor," mother decided over dinner.

"A tutor?" my father questioned in surprise. "What on earth for?"

I sat quietly while witnessing the verbal exchange. Mother always spoke as if I wasn't present or had no voice in matters concerning me. This time was no different. I should have spoken up in self defense, but instead relied on father to handle her.

"To learn, Eldridge! Just because the boy finished high school is no excuse to stop learning," she explained in a nagging tone. "It is my greatest desire to see him complete his formal education, but lacking that, he will continue being a student as long as he remains under our roof."

My father shook his head and sighed in surrender. He was accustomed to giving mother plenty of latitude. After observing the gesture she smiled victoriously. Then her gaze shifted toward me. It sent a cold chill down my spine. After swallowing a mouthful of food she spoke once more, sending fragments of white rice flying in my direction..

"I'll arrange for a tutor. There's so much to learn, Warren. Not math nor English, but lessons on life. There... Do you hear that?

Her question caught me by surprise. I momentarily listened for the sound she was referring to but heard only father's squealing bowels. My eyes narrowed as I listened more intently, but with no more success.

"I don't hear much of anything, mother."

Her frustration was readily apparent. "The birds chirping! Can you not hear that?"

I paused, listened, and widely smiled in confirmation for her benefit. "Yes, I do now."

"What kind of bird do you suppose that is, Warren?"

My mind carefully considered the question for several moments but drew a blank. "I don't know. They don't teach us such things in school."

She briefly gloated as her point was proven. "Precisely! But you will. Yes, Warren, you'll learn about each of the birds that are here in Spain. Until you've decided to further your formal education, I'll see to it that you receive an informal one right here at home."

I painfully groaned. I'd been looking forward to enjoying a life of leisure, at least for a short while. But my domineering mother had ruined my plans once more. She was clearly punishing me for refusing to comply with her academic hopes, but I steadfastly refused to give in.

* * * * *

The day dawned bright and beautiful. Both of my parents were gone before I stirred. Father was off to work while mother busied herself by volunteering at a local orphanage. I was grateful for the privacy the weekdays now provided. After taking a long, hot shower I dressed and was ready for the day ahead.

I hungrily walked into the kitchen in search of something to eat. The maid, Isabelle, a smiling middle-aged woman that spoke little English, silently acknowledged my arrival. She gestured an offer to prepare me some food, but I waved her off.

"Come tutor today," the Spanish woman struggled to repeat the message mother had so thoughtfully left for me.

"Yes, the tutor," I responded, nodding my head in acknowledgement.

I was smiling on the outside but cringing inside. Why couldn't father have intervened on my behalf? Why did mother always get her way? Birds... Who cared about a bunch of birds, anyway? They chirped endlessly and crapped all over the cars; that was all I needed to know. Oh, and when you hit them with a BB gun just right, they dropped dead. That gave me the slightest bit of satisfaction.

After eating a bowl of cereal I retreated to the atrium. As far as I was concerned it was the nicest room in the large house. The floor was constructed of red ceramic Spanish tile. Large skylights in the ceiling above welcomed in a vast amount of natural lighting that made it perfect for reading. I approached a bookcase that rested against one wall and sifted through the books. My eyes cautiously glanced at the open doorway before extracting a dirty novel from its hiding place. This was quickly placed within a second, larger book.

"I need to find me a girlfriend; being a virgin sucks."

It was the last of my dirty books, and now that I was finished with high school there was no way of getting any more that I was aware of. I never was quite sure where Andy managed to find so many of them. It wasn't as if they were found sitting on the book racks at normal stores. The way I saw it, a guy had to have a pretty big set of balls to buy such things. I could never imagine doing it on my own.

At the center of the atrium was a large round glass table mounted inside a white metal frame. Eight white metal chairs were evenly spaced around the table. Pads were attached to each chair for added comfort. At the far end of the atrium were a couch and two recliners. In my present mood, and armed with porn, selecting a seat became an important strategic decision. I hadn't been caught jerking off yet, and for good reason. The threat of utter humiliation kept me on my toes.

As I settled down at the large round table facing the doorway the thought occurred that I could easily lock myself in my bedroom and yank away worry-free. And there were times, especially at night, when I did. But the risk of exposure added a dimension of danger that sweetened the pot considerably. Erupting into my stained cum-rag at the table was so much more satisfying.

As I turned to the bookmarked page my mind mentally reviewed the story so far. A man picked up a beautiful hitch-hiker where the two then began a cross-country trip highlighted by daring and sometimes public sexual escapades. They were traveling from east to west and were currently closing in on Denver.

"I'm getting hungry for something," Penny purred as a mischievous grin formed on her glistening lips.

A broad smile brightened Vick's grizzled face. "Yeah, me too. I'd love to have another taste of your juicy pussy."

Penny emphatically shook her head from side to side. "No, not with those whiskers. My thighs are still sore and chafed from last night. You won't be going down on me until you've shaved."

"Then go down on me."

Vick eagerly reached for and popped open the button on the front of his jeans. He glanced over at his lovely companion while wondering why she wasn't hungrily pouncing on his stirring cock.

He grew curious. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"

She crossed her arms in an act of defiance. "I've let you fuck me halfway across the country. Sometimes a girl needs a little romance. You know, like a sign that she's appreciated."

With a playful grin on his face Vick reached over, grabbed her left hand, and pressed it against his crotch.

"Trust me; the little man more than appreciates everything you've been doing to him."

Her pouty expression faded as her eyes brightened a bit. But the woman remained guardedly skeptical. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course!" he exclaimed reassuringly. "You are such a beautiful, smart, and caring person. I'm crazy about you. And that body... Incredible!"

Penny giggled gleefully as she drank in the praise. It felt good hearing the words he was saying. Vick knew he'd given her exactly what she needed when the hand on his crotch started squeezing on the shaft of his limp but awakening manhood. It began swelling, filling all available space inside the pant crotch as it did. Within only a few moments the fully hardened cock throbbed impatiently against the cloth barrier that contained it.

I could tell that the story was getting to the good part. My penis was anxiously shifting in the pants I was wearing. While imagining it was Penny's hand doing it and not mine, I loosened the buckle and lowered the zipper. My voice softly moaned as the fingers of my right hand encircled the still-wrinkled shaft and gently pulled on the growing erection. Within seconds my prick was fully engorged and throbbing with desire.

The fingers of my left hand turned to the next page of the paperback sex novel and I resumed reading the erotic tale.

"Oh yeah, that's it," Vick groaned in approval as her soft fingers pumped the length of his hardened organ.

Penny giggled at his reaction. With her free right hand she clumsily pulled the T-shirt off, exposing both creamy breasts and the swollen brown tips. He silently admired her glorious swells while simultaneously trying to keep the car between the lines on the road.

"You're making things difficult," he complained about the distraction her partial nudity was creating.

Penny grinned. "This is nothing compared to what I'm about to do."

She bent over his lap. A second later wet heat surrounded his cock. Her swirling tongue thoroughly explored the smooth, sensitized head, reveling in the taste of his leaking semen. Vick's body immediately stiffened, unintentionally forcing the gas pedal all the way to the carpeted floor. The engine surged with a rush of power as adrenaline pumped through his arteries. The slight tingling in his balls intensified as Penny's mouth devoured his full length.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what such a thing would feel like. As my left hand kept the book pressed open my right hand shamelessly squeezed and pulled on my swollen prick. My balls tingled from both the mental and physical stimulation. I tried to convince myself that a woman's wet mouth surrounded my throbbing penis, and very nearly succeeded in the self-deception.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard voices speaking in an unfamiliar language. Perhaps my brain misconstrued the source of the sounds as coming from the TV. I was not consciously aware of them until it was very nearly too late. Suddenly warning bells sounded; I slammed the outer book closed which then encased the smaller one. My right hand pulled out of the clothing and quickly closed the pants, covering all traces of my illicit activity... Or so I thought.

The maid smiled as she led an attractive dark-haired woman to the doorway of the atrium before retreating from view. When the tutor saw me a wide smile formed on her lightly painted lips. I was expecting someone older; more studious, perhaps. The woman was comparatively young, in her late twenties or early thirties, I estimated, and quite stunning in her appearance. Shiny black hair spilled over her shoulders and framed a lovely face. She had warm, caring eyes; I liked that about her. Her body was slender and shapely, with curves in all the right places. She was dressed in dark gray slacks and a sleeveless white blouse. My eyes, naturally, were drawn to the sloping swells of her upright breasts.

"My name is Lydia," the woman introduced herself. "You must be Warren."

In a frantic moment I discovered that I'd momentarily lost my voice. I knew what I wanted to say, but seemed unable to form the words. The harder I tried the worse it became.

When she noticed me nervously struggling to respond Lydia changed the subject in an effort to break the ice. "What are you reading?"

I looked down at the larger outer book. "Uhh... Shakespeare."

She laughed; it sounded cute and I quickly joined in, grateful for the distraction.

"No, I meant what are you really reading?" she persisted. "I'm guessing it's something you're not supposed to be."

It was pretty obvious that a smaller book was pinched inside the larger. My pathetic attempt at camouflage hadn't fooled her one bit.

"Yeah, uhh..." I helplessly stammered while picking the books up.

My face grew hot in embarrassment. The aroused erection still happily throbbed against the front of my pants, unaware of the unplanned interruption. I was afraid to stand and reveal his condition. Instead I held the books protectively in my arms.

"Don't worry, I promise I won't tell. I brought a couple books along too."

Lydia closed the distance separating them and hoisted two hard-bound books onto the glass surface. After she turned them his way Warren noticed the titles; "Spain's Feathered Gems" and "Domestic Spanish Birds".

"You have an interest in birds?" she questioned.

I heavily sighed. "No. But my mother thinks I should."

Lydia nodded her understanding, and then turned into an encouraging cheerleader. "It's a wonderful hobby, Warren. Keep an open mind. We'll have fun, I promise."

I honestly tried, but not even her saccharine-sweet cheers could motivate my interest. Lydia sat down beside me while flipping through the pages of both books, introducing me to rare and common species. I looked and listened for two hours. However my thoughts were still in the gutter. When she spoke I imagined her moist lips were closed around my cock. And my gaze was repeatedly drawn to the jiggling swells of her breasts. I could easily discern the teasing outline of the nipples.

Her hands snapped the second book closed. Lydia frowned. "You're not interested in the least, are you? Please, don't waste my time, or your mother's money. If you don't..."

I smiled. "I'll admit I was against this from the start, but... Maybe I'm getting interested a little."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you being truthful?"

My broad shoulders shrugged uncertainly. "Yeah... I mean, it's not so bad."

She rolled her eyes in disbelief. "It's not so bad? Warren, what I can share with you is so special. The sights, the knowledge..."

Her gaze turned on him full force. He wriggled uncomfortably. She resolutely rose from the seat with a harsh scowl on her pretty face.

"This is Tuesday. I'll be back on Thursday. If you don't study, I won't return again. Study, Warren; read, memorize, and learn."

* * * * *

I wanted to finish reading about Vick and Penny's exploits, but instead lay on my bed perusing the two picture books Lydia brought. Her scent was still on them. I sniffed the wonderful aroma repeatedly and even considered dry-humping each one in turn and staining my underpants with cum, but I hadn't developed any sense of trust with the new maid Isabel. The one in Brazil didn't care, and even seemed amused by my sexual tendencies. But this was a new beginning. I was a man now, or so I'd been told.

"A man," I muttered indignantly, then angrily shouted "A fucking man being controlled by his fucking insecure mother!"

Oh, that felt good. I loved the way the words reverberated back at me. They didn't sound mocking; quite the opposite, actually. The echoes seemed more like a justification of my very existence. But when they faded I was still me, in my same sad situation, wondering what was next. The answer rested between my legs; two hard-cover books with astounding wildlife pictures and descriptive passages. And so I read, and learned.

* * * * *

I was excited when Thursday arrived. All I could think about was Lydia, and birds. Not even Penny and Vick could overshadow this new phenomenon I was experiencing. While I tried waiting in the atrium for her arrival, it soon became apparent that I was simply too excited. After pacing back and forth I decided to wait outside and watch her approach.

Everything seemed different. The tranquil view from the top of the hill where the house was built suddenly appeared more dazzling. The chirping of the birds had grown louder. The bright rays of the mid-morning sun even felt stronger. It seemed to me that I was noticing things that had previously gone unnoticed, and I wasn't quite sure why. Life for me was... different.

The minutes seemed to drag by like hours, but my perseverance was eventually rewarded. I heard the rumble of a car motor long before my eyes spied it. I'd never left the house on Tuesday, regretfully failing to walk Lydia out to her car, so I had no idea what type or color vehicle she drove. I caught a brief glimpse as a black BMW sedan topped a hill about a mile away before disappearing from view. The sound of the motor changed as the driver down-shifted. My heart fluttered as I realized it must be Lydia slowing down to make the turn onto our driveway at the bottom of the hill.

The crunch of tires on gravel grew steadily louder as the car climbed up the driveway. When it rounded the corner and pulled up my face was absolutely beaming with joy. Lydia looked so lovely behind the wheel with her long black wind-swept hair flowing over her shoulders, dark sunglasses cloaking those pretty eyes, and a vivacious smile on her attractive face. She was a vision of graceful elegance, and her presence excited me to no end.

I quickly hid my enthusiasm, instead replacing it with a disinterested shroud. Even as she emerged from the car I adamantly refused to show any sign of encouragement.

"Good morning, Warren!" she greeted me enthusiastically.

"Hi," I mumbled my half-hearted response.

My eyes couldn't help but notice the thin, light flower print dress that adorned her slender and shapely body. It was sexier and much more casual than what she'd worn for our first meeting. Her breasts were less restricted and swayed more naturally with her movements.

She sighed in frustration. "You really don't want me here, do you?"

Her eyes looked directly at me, watching for my reaction. I was excited, but adamantly refused to show her that side of me, not yet. My eyes instead looked down at the ground as I nervously kicked a pebble back and forth between my feet.

"Have you even opened the books I left with you?"

I smiled down at the ground while sheepishly answering, "Yeah, I did."

Lydia suppressed a smile. Her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you learn anything?"

"I'd never heard of passerines and non-passerines before," I admitted in a timid voice.

"What does passerine mean?" she challenged, testing the depth of my newfound knowledge.

"They're a family of birds that perch," my own voice surprisingly announced with uncharacteristic confidence. "Their feet have toes, usually four of them."

She stepped forward, reached out, and squeezed my right shoulder. I couldn't help but gaze into her warm brown eyes and return the smile.

"Very good, Warren. You have been reading. I'm proud of you."

The words 'I'm proud of you' sounded corny, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of happiness upon hearing her say them. That I could do anything to make a beautiful woman like her proud seemed amazing to me. I was glad that I hadn't let pride, and my anger with mother, keep me from opening the books she'd brought.

"Can you give me an example of a species that is in the passerine family?"

I really wasn't sure. When a single word rose to the top of my brain my lips immediately spoke, but my confidence this time was lacking. "Warbler?"

The smile returned to her bright face. She rose to her tiptoes and gently kissed my forehead. At the same time as she reached up with those luscious lips, her chest unintentionally leaned forward. My penis anxiously stirred as the tips of both breasts pressed against my chest. I could feel my pulse quicken as the unmistakable hardness of the nipples and the softness of the surrounding flesh pushed on my skin. Even through the clothing I felt the warmth of her magnificent body. When I breathed in my nose reveled in her wondrous scent. I felt myself falling under her spell.