Training Technique

It looked untamed now. The wet hairs caught the light and the labia were swollen, demanding attention. I was feet away but it seemed that I could feel the heat of it.

I went to my knees without even realizing it and it was on my knees that I closed the gap between us, the scent thickening the air around me as I approached.

"Wait."

I paused, just inches short, my mouth salivating and I was surprised when she got up. She moved around the bed and I could see that she intended to make herself more comfortable.

Whilst I remained on my knees she collected the pillows and formed them into a pile in the centre of the bed.

She smiled at the look of confusion on my face only to see it replaced by an expression of apprehension as she slowly folded herself over the pile; she snuggled down leaving her behind raised up high.

I stayed frozen in place, my mouth dry. The inference of this new posture was all too obvious but surely this was not her expectation?

"Don't keep me waiting."

Once again, she said so much with so few words. Her tone not only confirmed her presumption it made it clear that there could be no demur.

It was a outlandish proposition, any sane person would see how demeaning it was, but I was already slowly moving up onto the bed.

Her body was positioned in such a way that her tight cheeks lay open and in, some perverse manner, I was pleased to see a tiny blemish, an almost faded spot, which confirmed that she was not a total Goddess.

It was an irrational thought but more than that a dissimulation as I tried to come to terms with my feelings.

I had to make an effort to shift my gaze up over the smooth contours and then down into the shallow valley where a new shock awaited. The hair that flourished on her sex formed a classical triangle which only came to a point beyond her well formed rosette. Even here it was immaculately shaved into shape, making me wonder not only who offered such a service but, more to the point, what were the expectations of a woman that paid to have this done.

The only conclusion I could draw was that I was far from being the first and that she enjoyed making herself an object of adoration.

It should have been off-putting, but, in fact, it had a primal beauty which resonated deep within me. The rosette itself was a tight pink elliptical crater which was already thinly sheened with perspiration and I could not resist its Siren call.

As I drew ever closer I felt almost feverish and my heart was tripping. I put out my tongue, hesitating in a now or never moment, and then I licked.

My first impression was one of strength. There was no softness or yielding. Her muscles were tensed and as my tongue explored the open cleft I was aware of the taut smoothness of her skin.

I licked along the whole length, my tongue registering a salty, slightly musty, taste, but it was quickly diluted by my own saliva and, as I grew more confident, it disappeared altogether.

I continued to lick slowly in a series of long strokes from the base of her sex to the sharp point of the sculpted triangle and I was thrilled when Agnetha gave a groan of obvious contentment.

My own sex was making its demands and I felt a lazy trickle of moisture on my inner thigh; what I was doing might be considered degrading but I had never felt more aroused. The urge to touch myself was growing but, for now, my whole world was bounded by those two perfect hemispheres.

Without conscious thought I began to make each stroke a little shorter and soon I was entirely focused on the rosette itself. I was fascinated by its ribbed texture which seemed designed to draw me ever inwards.

This was the final taboo but any qualms I might have had had now evaporated.

I pointed my tongue and dipped it experimentally into the very heart but it was totally unyielding - and then I understood. She could have relaxed, with her obvious experience she could have made it easy, but she wanted me to work for it.

I placed my hands gently on her cheeks and at the same time I applied my mouth tightly over the opening. After a momentary pause I braced my tongue once more and then, with a strength born of some ancient animal urge, I began to push.

For long seconds it seemed impossible but then I felt a tiny easing and the tip of my tongue gained a hard won couple of millimeters. It was now being nipped painfully but I held fast and then, with one final effort, I was through.

My tongue slipped inside, deeper than I thought possible, and I heard her gasp.

We remained still, as we both came to terms, and then I flexed my tongue in a tentative exploration. The opening was extremely tight but the constriction was strangely comforting. Following my instincts I withdrew almost all the way and then probed once more and this time it was a lot easier.

Much to my surprise the taste was clean. I realized she had prepared for this and this further evidence that she knew me better than I knew myself made me uneasy.

I began to move my tongue rhythmically in and out and I was pleased when she started to urge me on.

"Yes...like that...deeper."

At last I felt that I was gaining a little control and this seemed borne out by the fact that the air was again heavy with the scent of her arousal. Now, with each new thrust, I groaned with effort, and her body began to rock as she matched my rhythm.

I guessed that this would be enough, of itself, to bring her to orgasm but she knew exactly where she wanted my mouth when it happened.

"Wait..."

Her voice was slightly less self assured now.

"...let me turn over."

With some reluctance I withdrew my tongue as she rolled off of the pillows. She grabbed the top one and I noticed that is was discoloured by a large damp patch but she was heedless of this as she lay on her back and placed it under her hips.

She made herself comfortable, linked her hands behind her head, and then opened her legs wide.

"Make it good."

Her rosy pink inner labia now lay starkly revealed and they looked invitingly moist but to me, at that moment, her sex was a shrine and I bowed my head to worship.

I licked languidly at first letting the taste of her spread slowly over my tongue but I wanted more. I applied a gentle pressure and parted her labia to find a milky pool which I lapped at greedily.

Her eyes were closed and she appeared dispassionate but her body had started to squirm slightly and I knew I was getting to her. I pushed my tongue even deeper wherel it was squeezed by the wet velvety walls and I could feel the furnace heat of her increasing excitement.

I worked my tongue inside her allowing her nectar to slowly fill my mouth and every now and again I swallowed lazily. My experience was limited but she was wetter than any of the others and her taste more desirable. It was ripe, peaty, in some way more womanly and I could not get enough of her.

I do not know how long I remained there feeding my need, and at the same time stoking up the fires of her climax, but the dull ache in my neck and the first hints of soreness at the root of my tongue suggested that it was quite some time.

She was reaching the zenith, writhing beneath me, and from time to time she squeezed my head between her thighs which were slick with perspiration.

I wanted to make it special for her and I now withdrew my tongue and adjusted my position slightly. Her clitoris was deep seated, a hidden jewel waiting to be discovered, and now I was going to make it mine. I licked at the apex of her sex and then explored with the tip of my tongue until I felt the rounded smoothness.

It was not as large as I expected but as I began to work my tongue around the retracted hood she relinquished any final vestiges of control. Her body bucked to meet me and it was not easy to stay together but, in a final act of assertion, I drew it between my lips and sucked gently whilst feathering it with my tongue.

Her body began to spasm and I was surprised as a spurt of moisture hit my chin. I almost broke away but her hand was suddenly at the back of my head and she held me in place as my upper body was anointed with her outpouring.

She was beautiful to behold in the throes of pleasure and I was disappointed when it slowly but inevitably came to an end. We lay together, her in blissful exhaustion and me with my head resting on her thigh as I watched her sex pulsing the very last drops.

After a few moments rest I leaned in and licked the leaking moisture from her labia following the glistening trail downwards until I was once again licking gently at her moist rosette.

With reluctance I braced myself to get up and to think about a shower but as I did so she hooked an ankle behind my back.

"We're going to be late for our meal...but you've got everything you want to eat right here... "

Epilogue

I flew to London for a break and to consider my options. In theory Agnetha was still my coach and she was keen to extend our contract to take in the next world championship but I knew that, for the sake of my sanity, I could not return.

She had only to click her fingers and I would go down on my knees and she knew it all too well.

Word must have got out because, after the first few days, I received a number of overtures. Some I might have expected others were a surprise. The biggest surprise of all was a phone call from Ellen Taylor. She had been an established international player and was relatively new to coaching but, more tellingly, she was John's wife.

She was ten years older than me and it was hard not to like her. I had been racked with guilt when John and I started our affair but he convinced me that the marriage was all but over. Only later did I realize how gullible I had been.

She suggested a local wine bar and, whilst I felt awkward, it seemed churlish to refuse. She volunteered to drive and at eight o'clock promptly my door bell rang. When I opened the door to her I felt distinctly underdressed. She was wearing a simple, but expensively cut, navy blue dress which set off her enviable figure to perfection. It also appeared that she just come from the hairdressers. Her long, thick, auburn hair had been straightened and styled with a fetching centre parting.

I made an instant decision to change my own outfit and I left her with a glass of wine whilst I darted into the bedroom. When I returned she had refilled her glass and set one out for me.

She sat on the sofa and I took the armchair opposite. For a few moments we discussed my recent successes and she seemed genuinely pleased for me but I could not avoid the obvious question.

"How's John?"

Her face, up to then so radiant, became sad.

"We've split up"

As she said it I felt a mix of emotions but I gathered myself to say what was expected of me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You guys seemed right for each other."

I felt such a hypocrite. Not only did I know at first hand just unfaithful he had been I had become convinced that he had only married Ellen in the first place because she was considered to be one of the most beautiful women in sport.

There was a moments awkward silence before she spoke again.

"There was someone else..."

In the next few seconds my heart went cold. I did not know what to say.

"...Anyway, let's not discuss that. How is Agnetha?"

"You know her?"

"Didn't you know? I was over there for a fortnight last year when I was studying for my coaching badges."

I had not known but I now found myself wondering if Ellen had any idea about Agnetha's true character. I answered neutrally.

"She was well when I left but I don't think I'll be going back."

"She suspected as much."

"You've spoken to her?"

"A couple of days ago."

"About me?"

"Yes. You see, I think you owe me."

She knew. She knew about John and me. Her eyes had become cold and I felt myself wilting. As I sat trying to find some words she stood up and then, to my astonishment, she slipped her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

She stood unabashed, beautifully naked, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"I'm going to be your new trainer...."