A Sensual Education Pt. 01

Dr Grant too had been beguiled by her immediately; he had striven to maintain the distance he thought necessary as her employer, yet within a few days of her arrival, she had upended his life. How vividly he recalled that evening! He had just gone to his room to prepare for bed when she had knocked. Expecting that it was Rick or Gabby with some last news of the day or request for tomorrow, he called "Come in," and was surprised when Michelle entered. She was barefoot, wearing a short, silk dressing gown, loosely belted about her trim waist, showing enough of her breasts that he thought it likely she was wearing nothing else. The idea thrilled him, and he had felt himself reddening as he realized he was staring at her body.

"Is this a good time for a progress report?" Michelle had asked. "We were both busy earlier, so I thought I'd catch you before you were asleep." Only then did he notice the bag over her left arm, from which she was removing an open bottle of champagne. She set the bottle on his bedside table, took two champagne flutes from the bag, and poured the wine. Seating herself on his bed, she held up one of the glasses to him and said, "There's so much for us to share," as she loosened her robe and leaned back against the pillows.

So had begun the intense, passionate relationship between the thirty-eight year old scientist and the young woman little more than half his age, with her taking the lead, summoning him to join her in his bed. They sipped the wine, she lightly touched his leg, and smiled her appreciation of the obvious bulge in his pants. She took his hand and moved it to her breast, her eyes closing as she breathed deeply and stroked his fingers, encouraging him to explore her body. "You're a very attractive man, Dr Grant," she said quietly. "I would like it very much if you would kiss me."

So of course he kissed her, and as he did, her hand found his cock and began pressing and rubbing it. "I think we need to get your pants off," she said. "Otherwise, they'll get all wet, because I'm going to suck your cock for a bit now."

Again he had done as she directed, and she proved even better than her word. While her left hand stroked his thick, strong shaft, she fingered his asshole with her right hand and licked his balls. From the base of his prick to the tip, she slowly licked and kissed her way, then took the entire member into her mouth. Up and down she moved upon it, and he was on the very verge of cumming when she gripped his dick firmly at the base, turned and kissed him, and said, "Are we ready now?"

Then they were fucking, his dick rammed home into her pussy, withdrawn and thrust in again. Calm though she might have seemed at first, her passion was a match for his, her cunt thoroughly lubricated even before the first touch of his cock head. Her hips rose to meet his thrusts, she clutched at his head and arms and back, finally gripping his ass to pull him as fully into her as possible, while they both shuddered and spasmed in climax.

That was their beginning, and passionate their relationship remained, physically, emotionally, intellectually. For four years, they had spent almost every night together, becoming intimately familiar with each others' dreams and desires, their secret longings and deepest pleasures.

And even when their relationship changed, three years previously, when Michelle had begun sharing her bed, body, and erotic energy with the Grant twins, the bond between the doctor and Michelle had remained strong, their nights together, though less frequent, still intensely, overpoweringly sexual. He could no longer remember how it had been decided that Michelle would extend her tutoring of Rick and Gabby to the field of sex; though he had always wanted his children to have a healthy sex life, the same as he wanted them to have a healthy digestion or a healthy intellect, he didn't think he'd formed the idea on his own. Had he hinted at it, and Michelle developed the notion? Or had she proposed it (perhaps seriously, perhaps in jest?) and he adopted it? However it came about, he had been perfectly happy to share her with his son and daughter; it was titillating to lie in bed with her, thinking that the beautiful girl sucking his dick had, only hours before, been eating his daughter's pussy, or taking his son's thick young cock in her ass.

But now she was gone, and for weeks he had moped, trying unsuccessfully to lose himself in his work. He had been sorry for his children; Gabby in particular had taken Michelle's departure quite hard, but there was little he could do for them. Besides, he knew that Rick and Gabby still had each other for support and consolation, and sure enough, Gabby had already begun to cheer up. Some nights he would go into the hall and stand, listening to the cries of pleasure coming from her or Rick's room. He would smile sadly to himself, thinking of the resilience of youth, then return to his own bed where he would try to masturbate while thinking of the beautiful woman who had gone. As he stroked his manhood, he became fully aware of the morass of depression into which he was sinking, from which thoughts of the hundreds of times he and Michelle had coupled and his jizz had spouted into one of the orifices of her body, or between her lovely breasts, into her hand, onto her belly or back, could not raise him. Even with the additional fantasy that his precious daughter might someday want to take Michelle's place stoking his desire, his body would not respond, his cock would not stay hard, and, unrelieved, he would spend another night only half-sleeping, to rise the next morning to another weary day.

So on that night when Gabby had coaxed him into retiring early, he had thought perhaps he'd read for a bit, then think of the lost love he wished would return, and of the beautiful girl he dared not hope would take her place, while he tried again to wring some pleasure from his lonely cock. The sheets needed to be changed; perhaps if he didn't bother with a washcloth or tissues, and just wrapped his dick in the sheet, or thought of smearing his cum all over his belly, to be showered off in the morning, he would be able to bring himself off. His cock was at least semi-hard, and he had begun sliding his right hand up and down the shaft, his left hand cradling his balls, when Gabby had knocked.

Adjusting himself to make his tumescence less evident, he had made room for her on the bed when she asked if she could stay with him for a bit. She wore only panties and a large t-shirt (perhaps one of Rick's?); her slender, toned legs looked so smooth and inviting, her breasts, unhampered by a bra, pressed warmly against his arm as she lay close to him.

Gabby spoke of her sorrow at Michelle's departure, of how the passage of time, and the tender concern of her brother, had made her better able to tolerate the loss. She also spoke of her father's feelings, of how difficult it must be for him. As she spoke, she turned off the light and stroked his arm. How gentle her touch was! He turned toward her slightly, and was overwhelmed by how good she smelled. Not perfumed, simply fresh and clean. He inhaled deeply, and as he did so, her arm, traveling up and down his belly as she stroked his forearm, accidentally brushed against his semi-erect dick. His breath hissed, his cock began straining upward, hoping for a renewal of that touch. Perhaps the touch wasn't an accident, for now again, her arm went down and pressed against his prick, slowly sliding the entire length of his shaft, then slowly back up again. His eyes closed, his buttocks tensed, his cock was fully aroused. Was there a part of him that wanted her to stop? Not exactly; he knew that he should want her to stop, but his desire for his darling girl rendered him powerless to speak or move.

And then Gabby was uncovering his naked body and advising him to relax: he muttered something in reply. There was a nervous laugh—was that his?—and his daughter was kissing the head of his cock, licking his shaft, caressing his balls, and then taking his manhood between her soft lips and into her lovely mouth.

She continued gently stroking the lower portion of his cock while sucking all that would fit in her mouth. His pleasure mounted swiftly and he moaned, wanting this incredible experience to last forever. Gabby's stroking of his cock slowed, she somehow took even more of his shaft into her mouth, while continuing to suck. His hand stroked her hair, slid across her shoulder, down her arm and onto her back. Then she was sitting up, pulling the t-shirt over her head, and he gasped at how beautiful her breasts were. Michelle had praised them to him, and he had been envious that she was privileged to see and touch and taste them. But now they were his to see as well, and he carefully reached up and lightly touched the erect nipple of the left one. Gabby smiled at him, bent and kissed him on the mouth, then swooped back down on his prick.

Once again, his pleasure rose. He fought to delay his orgasm as long as possible; how could he not want this to go on forever? But everything conspired against him; the knowledgeable, soft yet firm touch of Gabby's hands, the feel of her tongue swirling around his dick, her smooth lips sliding wetly over his skin, the tiny, slurping sounds as she sucked, the beauty of her naked back, and the touch of her glorious, marvelous young breasts against his body, all worked in concert to raise him to the boiling point. And suddenly his hips were bucking, he grasped her head in both his hands and thrust himself within her mouth, and spasm after spasm after spasm spouted cum, while she sucked and stroked him until there was nothing left.

Then she was kissing him, telling him that she would leave him so that he could rest, but that the next night she would come to him again, because what she wanted, what she wanted more than anything, she said, was to guide his rigid cock into her cunt, to feel him deep within her, for the two of them to fuck, to fuck, to gloriously fuck and his cum to spurt within her while she shuddered, trembled, shook with orgasm.

Then she was at the door, the t-shirt draped over her shoulder, her amazing tits proudly displayed. She smiled, blew him a kiss, and was gone.

He lay there for an hour, unable to sleep, tears of joy at his good fortune trickling from his eyes. As he lay there, his cock, so recently drained and lifeless, grew again to it's full height, and thinking of his precious, divine little girl, he stroked it slowly, then quicker, until once again gouts of semen spouted from it and plopped upon his belly. "Good night, my precious, my angel. How your daddy loves you!"

The next morning, he awoke from the first deep sleep he'd had in weeks. He'd had the most marvelous, incredible dream! Then he felt the dried cum on his belly, on his hand and on the sheet, and remembered. It wasn't a dream. A beautiful young woman had come to his bed, a beautiful young woman who also happened to be his daughter, his precious little girl, his Gabby, had come to him and kissed him, and touched him, and sucked him until he had exploded in orgasmic bliss. And she had promised that she would return to him, that she wanted—she wanted!—to have his cock within her, to grind her clit against him and climax together.

He had walked on air all that day, scarcely attending to anything said during the weekly progress meeting, taking an absurdly long lunch break, during which he snuck out of his office—like a schoolboy playing hooky—and walked the rocky shore of the island, breathing the salt air and marveling at the waves, the gulls, the clouds, the simple plenitude of existence. And dinner that evening, the usual quiet family affair, only himself, his son and daughter, was yet charged with extraordinary significance, as he and Gabby spoke to each other, not with words, but with secret, stolen glances or the merest brush of fingers when passing the salt or butter. When the dinner dishes were all cleared, he went to his office and sat for an hour, aimlessly turning the pages of some report, noticing nothing about it, aware only of how slowly the time was passing, and of the throbbing bulge in his crotch, his rampant cock which had been begging for release all day.

Finally, shortly before ten, he had gone to his room to prepare for bed. He lingered in the shower, soaping himself thoroughly, rinsing, then washing again, wanting his body—not yet old, but so far from young!—to be as fresh as possible for his darling, darling Gabrielle. He vigorously dried his arms, shoulders, and back, his chest, belly, and legs, and then slowly, lingeringly stroked his butt and balls and cock with the thick, fluffy, but ever-so-slightly rough towel. His eyes closed and he leaned against the bathroom door frame as he slowly stroked his thickening member, anticipating the pleasure that was to come. Lost in this reverie, the faint tap at his bedroom door failed to reach his consciousness, but then there came a gentle hand upon his shoulder and he turned to see the beautiful, desired face, as his own precious Gabby, smiling slightly, said, "Wait for me, daddy."

Their arms were around each other, their hands stroking shoulders and backs as their lips came together in a tender kiss, their tongues eagerly seeking out each others' mouth. His hands moved down to her ass, back up her sides, lingering on the sides of her breasts, while her hands sought out his balls and the thick shaft that stood so firmly against her belly. His hand slipped inside the front of her soft robe, gently taking her lovely tit in his palm and caressing the nipple. "Oh daddy," she sighed, "I want your cock in me. Please?"

"Oh my baby girl, my precious sweetheart, let me look at you." She unfastened the belt of her robe, and he pushed it slowly down, off her shoulders, and it fell to the floor. Now they were both naked, and he took a half-step back, his hands on her upper arms, to gaze upon her beauty. "Oh Gabby, how lovely you are! You take my breath away, my gorgeous, precious child." Then he was on his knees, his hands stroking her ass, fingering the crack while he kissed his way down her belly, across her shaven pubic area, and began kissing and licking her fragrant pussy. She held his head in her hands as her hips thrust forward, helping him to get his tongue between her nether lips. They were already fully moistened; her desire was so strong upon her that her body had made ready to ease his entry before she had even come to his room.

Then they were on the bed, he was sucking her clit as his thumb pressed into her cunt, her hips thrusting up to meet him. "Oh fuck," she cried, "Put it in me! Please, please, fuck please, your cock, in me!"

Their bodies were joined, prick in pussy, hands grasping backs and buttocks, breasts and hair, their mouths together, then apart, seeking out neck or shoulder for bites that were just short of too hard, they rolled and he was on his back, Gabby astride him, her hands pressing against his chest as she rocked upon him, grinding her clit against him, her head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands were on her beautiful breasts as his prick throbbed and his cum spurted deep inside her. Still she rocked upon him, crying out in joy as her body shuddered, then she was lying upon his chest, her breath coming in gasps as small tremors coursed through the walls of her pussy, clasping and releasing the semi-erect but still thick cock within her.

Then, utterly spent, they had slept, the quiet sleep of satiety and content. And when he awoke at seven to begin his day, he saw that gorgeous, treasured face gazing down at him, waiting for him to be awake. "Morning, sleepy head," she said, and kissed him, took hold of his cock, and once more climbed upon him, riding him to the limits of his sexual endurance. They came, fiercely, thoroughly, then lay in each others' arms, almost weeping for sheer joy, until at last he tore himself away and returned once more to the labor of being Dr Marston Grant, chief executive of the Spendthrift Foundation.

Luckily for all involved, the Foundation was able to endure short stretches without his close supervision, so the weeks of listlessness, bordering on depression, followed by the two days of unfocused elation, both of which states had made Dr Grant incapable of productive work, had done no real harm. They had, however, been noticed, and raised some concern among his colleagues. So that now, as the doctor sat in his office, staring unseeingly at a picture on the wall, smiling vaguely and wondering how much longer he needed to pretend to work today, there came a knock at his door.

"Marty, you got a minute?" It was Dr Wendell Keller, one of Dr Grant's oldest and closest friends. They had known each other since grad school, had courted their wives together, and been intimately part of each others' life ever since. Keller had been the first scientist Dr Grant recruited when he established the Foundation, shortly after his wife's death.

"Sure, Dell, as many as you need."

Keller came in, closed the door behind him, and sat down. "How you doing, Marty? Look, some of us are getting a little worried. You've been kind of out of it lately. Is there anything I can do?"

Dr Grant smiled. "Thanks Dell, I think I'm okay now. I know I haven't been much use lately, but I should be back on the beam soon. Maybe even tomorrow."

Dr Keller nodded. "Good. Glad to hear it." The two men were quiet for a moment, then, in a lower tone, Keller said, "Hit you pretty hard, I guess, Michelle leaving. Greta and me, we were pretty shocked when you told us she was going."

Dr Grant's face fell. "It's been hard, Dell, that's for sure. But things are looking up a bit. I know I've got to quit moping and make myself useful again."

Dell grinned. "Whaddaya mean, 'again?' Were you useful before? Musta been before my time."

"I walked into that one, didn't I?" Dr Grant chuckled. "Well, then, how about I say I've got to make myself useful for a change?"

"That's the idea, change is good!" The two men laughed. "Listen, Marty, we were wondering, Greta and me, it's been a while since we've spent much time together, howsabout you come for dinner tonight? Make an evening of it with us? Like old times."

Dr Grant grew thoughtful. He dearly loved the Kellers; they had been such an important part of his life, for such a long time, that his recent neglect must have been painful for them. It certainly hadn't benefited him. But in his present state, like that of a besotted young lover, his only thought was to be with his beloved as much as possible. Having to be away from his darling all day was as close to misery as he could feel in his current exalted frame of mind; did he really want to extend the separation unnecessarily?

"That's good of you, Dell, you and Greta, it sounds really tempting..."

"But? There's a 'but' coming, isn't there?"

The disappointment in his friend's face and voice brought Dr Grant up short. "No, Dell, not exactly. Spending the evening with you two sounds wonderful, it's just...Can we put me down as a strong maybe? Let me check on a couple of things first, and if everything's okay we'll be on. How much longer will you be here?"

"Ah, there's always some sort of shit to clean up, you know how it is, so I could stay for three hours if that's what you need. Or I could say 'fuck it' and leave in thirty seconds if you're ready to go."

Dr Grant laughed. "How about we split the difference? Find some shit that only needs ten minutes of cleaning, and I'll come let you know then."

Dell beamed. "Attaboy, Marty! I'll let Greta know. She'll be really happy. And that'll be a good deal for all of us!"

"Let her know 'maybe,' okay? And we'll have a definite answer in just a few minutes."