Sexual Awakening of Geneva

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First two hopeless husbands, then along came Michael.
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After marrying at eighteen and marrying within weeks on the rebound after her first divorce, Geneva Brookes was divorced again and although there was $793,600 in her bank investment account that hadn't existed before her marriages, she felt sexually deprived and very disappointed in men.

The romance novels Geneva had read since turning fourteen had prepared her to believe sex between a man and woman sent the female reaching for the stars emotionally and if she were lucky she would be hurled into orgasms through the very action of that sex.

Ah yes.

Nothing had prepared Geneva for the abuse and disillusionment.

Basically in both instances there had been little wrong with the mechanics because the reality was both men capably raised and sustained erections and knew where to put it and she had an accommodating entrance and her muscular action was conducive to friction. But somehow the plot was inevitably lost after initial insertion. Her first husband would immediately discharge wind in loud, explosive bursts that left her ears ringing and wishing he'd remove himself off to the bathroom.

Her second husband would fall asleep after a few thrusts and was a heavy weight to dislodge and would wake up and scold her for waking him up.

Amazingly, she'd had two husbands but still wasn't confident she knew what semen looked like, never having seen examples; she was quite sure she's never had an injection of semen despite that been the purpose of the shoving, puffing and grunting.

The second husband had the nasty habit of arriving home drunk and attempting to shove it up Geneva's back passage no matter where she was around the home or what she was doing. That was nauseating to say the least because the drunken swine would be calling her Rosie.

Poor Geneva. Her problem had been naivety. No one had told her bars full of deadbeats was not an ideal zone for husband-hunting and she'd loyally believed her mom that although all men were difficult they were providers and so achieved their purposes. Apparently her mom regarded farting and abuse as legitimate collateral damage.

Geneva wasn't sure what coming through almost four years of puerile consorting with a male replaced by another jerk represented but considered the $793,600 share of joint assets as being a windfall. However, she would have preferred more acceptable ways of accruing that amount of money without having to really work for it although the feminine view would be she'd worked and suffered for it beyond belief. But that quite overlooked the fact there are 24 hours in a day.

No matter, the point was Geneva knew she was free and men and their grubby ways could go to hell. She had women friends, some of whom were gay couples, but after noting a couple of black eyes and sullenness decided that wasn't the way to go either. She decided to live alone.

Alone? Geneva quickly found that wasn't a ball of fun either. So at the aged of twenty-three she began online studies and gained a genuine BA degree, majoring in philosophy. While that was going on she went to the hairdresser once a fortnight and attended courses on nail-care, facial care and tried deportment but was out of there, finding it was a front for preying lesbians. Clearly her objective was self-improvement. Geneva wasn't sure what for but it sure beat the hell out of being married and placed gaps between periods of boredom.

Geneva took a job in the CBD as a courier driver and as a result of repetitive visitations gradually built a circle of acquaintances, mostly women in reception but a few male and female executives to whom she had to deliver personally. Invitations to after-work drinks were followed by invitation to weekend luncheons and movies and she thrived on her induction into society that she thought perhaps other women took for granted.

Then the old guy who'd retired as a truck driver and founded the Almost Never Late Courier Company that traded as ANL Couriers sold the business and the new operator was a dishy young owner's wife. Michael purchased the business for Amy because she'd become bored at having affairs.

Amy proved to be a real bitch and that probably was her problem. She finally ran away with Chuck Norgate, a fat courier driver reputedly with a dick as thick as his arm. So Michael stopped playing the stock market from his home office and came in to run the business, instituting divorce proceedings. He didn't know much about running a business so brought in a partly qualified accountant as manager but two days later she failed to turn up for work and Michael found the office safe no longer contained money. At least he knew about money so the plan was to buy out a smaller operator, merge the operations, make himself president and engage one of the drivers as director of operations.

The theory was fine but he found courier drivers were not ideal operations managers because they had chosen to be courier drivers. But it was Geneva's turn to be tried behind the desk. And boom-boom, suddenly the company was up and running as it was in the days when old Mr Puck was proprietor. It was a fact that Geneva used to spend at least an hour a day locked in the office with old Mr Puck and nobody ever found out for what purpose those two used that time, but obviously it must have been business related. Unkind female drivers believed it could be possible to pick up business knowledge and experience while engaged in prolonged fellatio.

Michael was thrilled to find the company was in positive cash flow again and announced Geneva's appointment was permanent. He took Geneva out to dinner that night to celebrate. Looking across the table at the deep V in Geneva's dress Michael suddenly remembered to ask if she approved of being promoted. She nodded, a little pie-eyed because she'd already had a cocktail and half a glass of wine.

"I'm missing Amy," he sighed, a tear rolling while the other eye scanned Geneva for sympathetic reaction.

"What, the excitement of her affairs or the mess she made or her foul cooking?"

That harsh reply rather rocked Michael. "Er I was thinking about sex but those things as well."

"You mean she had sex with you?"

"Yes, we were married to one another. Why do your ask?"

"I didn't think she'd bother. She was a well-oiled sexual predator."

"Yes I agree. She spent a fortune on body oil."

They both became progressively drunk and when they left Michael had to be hauled back into the restaurant to pay.

He delivered Geneva home to her studio apartment, kissing her, some of the kiss reaching her face, and then ended up sleeping at his parent's apartment, unaware they were there. He left next morning before they awoke and knew he was hopelessly in love.

Yes, hopelessly. At the restaurant he'd been looking at the deep-V of Geneva's neckline and imaged all sorts of things in that locality and farther down. He then thought about her smile, how pleasant she was and how she had almost instantly pulled the team around her and within two weeks productivity had leapt and new clients had been attracted. That had avoided some of the lay-offs. It had been unbelievable and at the center of it all was Geneva. They were a team -- she was good with people, he was good with money and organizing resources.

Perfect.

"Geneva, will you marry me?"

"What for?"

"The sex and, er, companionship, doing things together and..."

"Michael, you are already married."

"Oh. But I knew that. I wanted you lined up for when the divorce comes through."

Geneva smiled and straightened his hair and flicked imagined dandruff off his shoulder pads. "Well I must say that is excellent planning. But the question is, how well do you treat your women?"

"Very well."

"Give me a few names so I may check by interviewing them."

"Er..."

"What?"

"I'm nervous about their recommendations. I'm only your normal guy Geneva, with shortcomings, bad habits, vulnerabilities and unable to really understand women."

"So you admit to that?"

Michael's head hung and he said, "Yes, with shame I do."

"Well I'm very pleased to hear that. Perhaps there's some hope for you and perhaps us."

"Well?"

"Get your ass off my desk and allow me to get back to work. Michael could you please be a little more responsible and leave chatting me up with the intention of trying to fuck me until outside business hours. We need to run a tight ship in this cutthroat business of courier delivery in this city."

"Yes, of course. You are so right Geneva. Mind off my dick during work hours -- right."

After he left Geneva decided she ought to try him out. She was bored at being confined to dildos, vibrators, dongs, plugs, string balls and clamps. She understood with a guy you got most of that in the one package, not that she'd even been with a well-oiled guy geared to deliver, only the two sexually inadequate misfits she'd had the misfortune to marry because of her poor judgment and ignorance.

Geneva and Michael took their lunch break in his office, sipping hot soup. She opened the conversation.

"Yes you may fuck me."

"Fuck!" yelled Michael, slopping hot soup into his lap. Two female drivers came running, both attempting to be first to answer the call, but seeing Michael apparently masturbating behind his desk, watched by the laughing Geneva, they hastily withdrew.

"Well?"

"When?"

"Tonight."

"Okay providing I have skin left on my crotch."

* * *

Michael was cooking dinner dressed only in an apron when he heard someone approaching the open front door and yelled, "Come in."

He'd forgotten his mom called on Thursday evenings.

"Oh crap, mom!"

"That's a novel way of greeting your mother."

"Sorry oh I do apologize mother."

"All right, there's not need to go over the top."

Irma smiled and said in a long disused sexy voice, "I have long coveted your sexy little butt Michael."

Michael pushed a couple of gins into her and sent her on her way. Irma was delighted he was about to entertain a new lady. "But I'm not sure you ought to greet a lady dressed only in that small apron. But no, she could view it as being hilarious and might think well of you."

"You think so? I was in a rush to get started after showering."

"No, stay like that son. It will be a test of her interest in you."

"But she might flee."

"Then you will have your test result darling. Don't fuck around dithering if you want another wife."

Michael couldn't believe his mom had just spoken to him like that.

Michael had left the door open and was stirring sauce when a soft voice said, "Yummy, nice ass."

Despite her recent education Geneva possessed huge gaps in dealing with situation including being with men. So she'd just said then what she'd thought. Like all women she was fascinated by the tight butts some men possessed.

It worked brilliantly.

Michael turned, red-faced, and gave her just the sweetest of smiles. She handed him the flowers and bottle of red wine. She went to the door and locked it.

After dinner Geneva asked hoarsely, "May I lift your apron?"

"Yes do but you'll be disappointed... there's not a lot there.

Geneva only possessed intimate knowledge of the cocks of three men: one had been very fat that looked bloated and dripped; the other husband's had been ghostly pale, long and skinny and that of the former owner of the courier company had been in different shades of red, brown and purple and carried pigmented lesions.

In comparison, Michael's half-aroused thickly veined bronzed tube with its handsome helmet appeared to belong to an ancient Roman spearman. Geneva's mouth dried and blood rushed to her vagina. She felt in desperate need to be speared but resolved to take it slowly.

"It's just after dinner. Perhaps I ought to fill in time by sucking it slowly?"

Michael gurgled and pushed her head on to it.

Unbeknown to Geneva, old Mr Puck had trained her to be one of the city's if not the county's best cocksuckers. For the next hour she had Michael eating out of her hand as she mouthed and fingered him to near oblivion. He didn't know where to put his feet so put them over her shoulders. Finally she gave his balls an encouraging squeeze and Michael covered Geneva's hair, face and top of her black dress with thick cum.

He was appalled whereas she reacted radiantly and screamed, "Ah, at last a guy who can cum for me."

That night Michael went on to deliver Geneva into a whole new world of sex. The thirty-four-year old had sexually liberated his three-year operations manager who from that night became his mistress. Recognizing Geneva as a great natural treasure because of her expertise in fellatio, he worshipped her and when the divorce came through became Geneva's third husband, the only one she ever cared for.

THE END

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