Adult Education Beware! A Novella

It took five minutes or so of deep penetrating thrusts until Helen surrendered to a shivering, whimpering climax. I grabbed her buttocks and kept her pulsating sex speared on my cock until the last of her tremors subsided.

I had managed to hold myself back. Without disengaging, I moved us both to the side-on position. Resting on my elbow, I could look at Helen's voluptuously stretched-back body, her excitement-flushed face, with eyes closed in a post-coital swoon. I stroked over her face and then, with the lightest of touch, drew my fingers down her body, across her breasts, her belly, brushing over her pubes. She shivered under my caresses, and my cock was gripped and gripped again in the hot depth of her cunt.

Breaking the silence, I told her how beautiful she was and how much I loved to look at her, naked, spread out like this. Knowing now that between Helen and I no sexual barriers needed to be erected, I said:

"Helen, I love it that you came so quickly. But this was only the beginning. I am greedy, I want you to come again and again. Are you so quickly satisfied? Don't you want us to fuck until we both drown in the wildest of storms?"

This time Helen could find no words. She left it to her body to answer! Eyes closed, Helen threw back her head, her lips half-opened as if ready to sing as her body arched to push her straining tits into my grip. Her ass lifted off the carpet, and her groin began to grind against my deeply embedded cock. Like last Thursday in the car, she abandoned all shame in her lust.

And I felt like screaming out my joy in her. Putting one of Helen's legs in the crook of my arm, I raised it high. She cried out:

"Yes! Yes! Fuck me till I come, again and again, Ben!"

Spread wide open, Helen was keeping her promise. She wanted to be sexually totally mine.

Raising her head, she looked down as I drew my gleaming wet rod almost out only to sink it then in to the hilt, repeating it, sinuously slowly, time and time again. I wanted it to be the ultimate, sensuous fuck for her. Helen licked and drew in and bit her lips in excitement. So, I asked:

"Do you like watching how I fuck you, how my cock slides in and out of your sexy- hot cunt?"

She moaned her answer and threw back her head. Soon she welcomed each deep thrust with a cry, so I asked:

"What's this crying? You don't want me to stop, do you? Is it your love song? If it is, I love it, sing Helen, sing!"

Helen gasped and almost shouted a garbled reply:

"Don't stop! Fuck me, Ben! Fuck me! Fuck me! Drive me crazy! I've never wanted a man like you!"

With each of her hot words, her pelvis met my cock's thrusts with a quivering counter.

My free hand made love to Helen's shapely breasts. I teased and pinched and twirled her bud-like, pink nipples into a perky state. Now I moved the hand up to her face, and my fingers found her lips. They opened, and she sucked them in.

I whispered a warning:

"How naughty a woman are you? I think you know where sucked fingers go. Take them! Show me how your sweet clit loves to be played with. As you know, men need to be taught. I want to learn everything about your naughty clit."

Hellen grinned. After vigorously sucking and wetting my fingers, she took them down to guide them into the secrets of her bush. She made sure the favoured finger found its target. With each thrust of my cock and every twirl of the chosen finger over her clit, Helen's whimpering got shriller. Her climax crashed in and ripped and shook Helen's body into repeated spasms as she screamed out her orgiastic relief. Her wild, unrestrained coming made me come and pour into her with a burst.

In close embrace, we rested for quite a while before we had fully recovered. Helen stirred first, snuggling her face into my neck. Her whisper had still the throaty excitation of what we had shared:

"Ben, I just knew you were the one to open my cage. I've never been loved like that, fucked like that, come like that before!"

Pleased and flattered and somewhat embarrassed, I came up with a flippant reply:

"Helen, darling, it was all you. With me, it was beginner's luck. It can only get better."

Her "Wow!" and happy laughter proved that she liked the prospect.

Chapter 3

Helen left me to go to the toilet. On returning, she stopped in the doorway, still temptingly nude, and asked if I wanted a shower. I laughed, "If with you: Always!".

"I hoped for this answer." was her laughing reply.

When we stood close together under the shower, I told Helen that I had form with sexy women in baths and showers. She had now confirmed that she was my type of woman. I gave her the soap to wash me first:

"I have to learn how you like to be washed by your lover."

When Helen was done, she looked admiringly down at what her attention had done to my cock. She giggled and asked:

"You must be starving like me, Ben. You are getting hard again. When did you have your last good sex?"

"Oh, twenty minutes ago." - I truthfully replied. I suspected, however, married as Helen was, that she meant with my wife.

For the time being, I let this matter rest. Instead, I soaped her in, which put Helen in a state of blissful contemplation. My soapy hands lovingly washed her body, at length her tits and gave detailed attention to her pussy and as quickly aroused crack. We finished in the closest of embraces under the cascading water with us kissing in a similar state of arousal.

But once we had towelled each other off to a warm glow, Helen asked if I wanted something to eat. She slapped my bottom when I leered at her and asked, "What are you offering me?" Then she skipped off to the living room. I followed. She had already slipped into the pants of her suit. Reaching for the top and pulling it down over her head, her muffled voice told me to get dressed. I asked, "Fully? Are you sending me home?"

Shaking out her hair, Helen grinned, "Just enough not to distract the cook."

We went to the kitchen. Helen turned immediately to her task of preparing for us a plate of German-style Appetitbrote whilst I, before sitting down at an assigned place, checked the drink situation. The fridge was well stocked, so I asked.

Helen laughed: without turning from her task, she said:

"I didn't know what to buy. Was it going to be a soft drink, beer, wine, Schnapps-idea occasion with us? Well, now I know! We made it a Champagne one! Didn't we?"

We toasted each other and, as Helen's blush and shining eyes affirmed, the morning we had spent. We enjoyed our repast, but Helen also hungered to talk.

To help break the awkward silence, I told her, as a joke, what the first questions are that Austrian lovers ask after their first fuck. He, being an ignorant male, always asks, "Did you come?" And she, being a good girl that has sinned, asks, "What do you think of me now?"

Helen smiled, but it was not a happy one. Thinking for a few long seconds, she raised her glass, inviting me to clink for a toast. Then, facing me with a challenging look and even voice, Helen said:

"You, Ben, don't need to ask your Austrian question. And mine, not being a good girl, I better leave unasked."

She hesitated and looked down before she continued:

"But there are things I want to tell you now that we have become lovers. We did become lovers, didn't we - it wasn't just a great, once-only fuck?"

I reached across the table for both her hands and asked her to trust me. I assured her that nothing between us needed to be hidden, justified, or excused. We had made the most honest beginning to our relationship that could be made.

When I released Helen's hands, she let them rest for a while to show me she was not withdrawing, before she leant back. She looked at me, smiled shyly, and began to talk: -

"Ben, there are things I have lately thought and done that are strange and new to me. I threw myself at you last week after class.

I felt so in danger while I waited to catch you alone, with my need to expose myself to you. I never imagined I could do something like that.

You made it easy for me in the car. You showed me you wanted me as I wanted you: yes, to have sex. This morning you came. You wanted me naked, took me, fucked me on the floor the way I had imagined. God, I came. Like never before. I loved it. I want you to take me like that, every time, as often as e can meet. No holding back! It's as simple as that. I'm not ashamed.

"But telling you about my life is not easy for me."

Helen shook her head in frustration. It was difficult for her to gather the right words and tone to talk about her past, present and herself, either despite or because of our sexual involvement. She so wished that I would understand what had brought us together.

Beginning with her family, Helen described her parents as caring and her childhood as trouble-free. Being bright, she went to a selective grammar school. On completing her O-Levels, she started a clerical job at a local firm. Like her girlfriends, Helen had from her teenage years on some boyfriends. She did, she thought, share their sexual fantasies. So, the clumsy boys groping did not put her off sex but neither did it make sex particularly interesting or attractive.

Helen lost her virginity at twenty, at a house party. After getting partly drunk, a young colleague from work, whom she had quite liked, took her to the back of the garden. What happened, Helen described matter-of-factly thus, "He pushed me against the back fence, bent me over, and fucked me".

Helen said this with a smile; I sensed she was relieved to have found the right voice to tell her story. She continued by assuring me that it caused her no trauma. She just quit her job to get away from the fellow that had relieved her of her virginity. Helen left home and found a job in Bristol at a shipping firm.

Over the next nine years, she had several short-time male friends. With one, she shared a flat for eight months before they separated. Helen shrugged her shoulder dismissively as she summed up her amorous experiences: -

"I didn't dislike sex and, I suppose, I didn't play hard to get either. I was just unlucky in attracting the wrong guys and, perhaps, too reluctant to say 'No Thanks!' to those who didn't turn me on. When it came to sex, some of the chaps were embarrassed fumblers; others played the tough male for whom a fuck was something one ticked off on a score sheet before one returned to one's mates to booze and boast.

They probably thought I was frigid. Not one of those boys could bring me close to the nice little orgasms I had, by then, learned to give myself."

This part of the confession made her grin. She remembered that I had known what naughty her would do with my sucked fingers earlier on the carpet. Then, serious once more, Helen continued her story.

Working for a shipping line, she had good contacts with travel agencies. One winter, one of them offered her an affordable skiing holiday in a Bavarian resort. She went. In her hotel in Garmisch, she met Jurgen.

Helen smiled as she remembered:

"Jurgen was the most attractive man among the guests. He was German, always well dressed, polite, spoke perfect English, and, I am ready to admit that it multiplied his attraction, seemed well off. He was courteous to all but paid no particular attention to me or the other snow bunnies in our learner group.

I, instead of lusting after one of the bronzed ski instructors, decided to seduce Jurgen.

It was slow work.

On the second last day of my holiday, I finally persuaded him to go to bed with me. We had two nights together. He was a gentle lover. We made love most delicately once each night.

Being how I was, I was not carried away by our sex. I still gave Jurgen my address when we parted. He promised to write.

Jurgen worked for a company that had assigned him to a branch office in South Africa, and he was leaving for his posting next week. Although we seemed to like each other, I had no great hopes that I had seduced Jurgen. In bed, he appeared to be only mildly interested in me."

Helen was for a few seconds either lost in thought or weighing up if she should tell more. Her disclosures had, after all, reached now her marriage partner. Was revealing even some things about their partnership a betrayal, an indiscretion, or just in bad taste? But she decided to continue with her story.

On arriving in Johannesburg, Jurgen wrote immediately. She replied, and it started a rapid exchange of letters between them. As often is the case, the feelings they began to put into words far exceeded what their two nights together had promised. Within six months, Jurgen proposed marriage. He invited her to come to South Africa for a visit to make up her mind.

Helen was turning thirty; Jurgen was an attractive, well-established man, a real marriage prospect. So, she resigned from her job and left for Johannesburg on a one-way ticket. She had decided to marry him.

Since then, they had lived in Johannesburg for two years. Then Jurgen's promotion transferred them for four years to Bangkok, and after that to Melbourne. The ultimate, promotional move would be back to the head office in Germany.

In the twelve years of their marriage, practically all their friends and close social acquaintances had been German businessmen and their families, like them in temporary, business-related exile away from home. Yes, Helen admitted with a dismissive shrug, she had, at parties, been occasionally propositioned and furtively groped by other men. But she loved Jurgen; he was a good man. She would not expose him to the inevitable gossip about her promiscuity in their closed circle of business colleagues and acquaintances. She had been faithful, been with no other man for all the years of her marriage.

Helen stopped. She stretched back in her chair, crossing her arms behind her head. It made her breasts contour beautifully against the soft cloth of her top. She looked at me across the table. She knew that I knew that there was more to be told. It could wait. There was laughter in her eyes when she calmly summed up:

"I've been a faithful wife until this week. I'll blame Rilke for what has happened. So, don't feel guilty. I'm not sorry that it happened!"

Helen stood up to step behind me. She leant forward, and as I turned my face, her hand pressed it gently against her breasts. I drew in her smell. She held me for long seconds before she said:

"Can I seduce you once more? This time back to bed?"

Helen was so certain of my answer that she just walked away, through the living room into the hallway and then the master bedroom. I followed. Helen had stopped, looking down at the bed. She shook her head:

"I didn't think I would want to get into this bed with you. I didn't change the sheets! I made us fuck on the floor."

I burst out laughing at her funny and so sexy outburst and forced confession. I just had to tell her, "Stop worrying. I'd make love to you anywhere: On the bed, chair, table, stairs, carpet, grass, even against a back fence if you are willing. Besides, after we are through, these sheets will really need a wash!"

Helen laughed, calling me a "Boaster", and pushed me onto the bed. Telling me the Panther was out of the cage, she stripped me of my shirt, pants and boxers.

I told her I loved her stripping mania but she had to learn how to strip sexily herself. Her seductive suit and her being naked under it begged for a proper striptease. Before, in her rush to get naked, she undressed as if for a doctor.

She stood back from the bed to put a finger to her lips: A statue deep in thought before she sinuously started to sway her hips. Turning slowly, Helen eased herself out of her top, holding it for long seconds in her stretched-up hands. Her beautiful orbs with their pink button nipples, as she swayed and looked down on my growing erection, were already perkily seductive.

But then she turned, undid the clasp, and inch by imperial inch allowed her pants to slide down her long legs. Bending forward, she turned, offering me a long lusting leer at her voluptuously sexy ass and the fleshy cleft showing between her thighs.

It was a bravely uninhibited, lust-charged display. Stepping out of the pants crumpled on the floor, Helen threw herself on the bed. She crawled over me and took possession of my cock before I could pull her in my arms. She gripped it hard, but then her lips closed on mine for a wet, invading kiss. Helen threw back her head in triumph: -

"I love what my striptease does to your beautiful cock: I love being so naughty! Next time I'll make sure I'll have more to take off. You love watching me like that, don't you? God, it made you big and hard and so quick! Tell me now how much you want to kiss me, touch me, fuck me! And I'll tell you how much I want to be kissed and touched and fingered and fucked. By you! Only you! And all our naughty dirty talking. I love it. I'll go crazy!"

Chapter 4

What an opening, what an opportunity! Helen was willing me to abandon all restraints in what I said and did to her. To the nerd in me, the greatest turn-on was that she was so sensually responsive to language! I have always loved this in women. Her whole body responded to the allure of sexy dirty words spoken to her and to the ones she allowed herself to moan, whisper and shout.

Helen still held me by my cock. When I moved over her, she spread her legs and tried to guide it quickly into her cunt, urging me on with a grunt:

"Now fuck me again, Ben! Like before! God, I loved what you did to me on the floor!"

I resisted the urging of her hand and her pelvic thrusts. Taking both her wrists, I pinned them down over her head and started to kiss her mouth, her face, her neck and whispering, in staccato-bursts of laboured breathing into her ear what her striptease had done to me. That I wanted her now not only to show me but to give me every lovely inch of her body to kiss and devour:

"I want your kisses, and your sexy tits and shapely ass, Helen. Most of all, I want you to give me your luscious pussy and naughty clit to kiss and lick and taste. And then, Helen, your already well-fucked, delicious cunt will be wet-hot greedy with wanting more loving! Won't it? Much, much more!"

After each of my demands, Helen panted a breathless, "Yes".

I started to kiss my way down her neck, her shoulder to her breasts, sucking and teasing and biting her nipple till it protruded button-hard, then changing over to the other breast. While my mouth was on one, one of my hands caressed and moulded the other of Helen's beautiful tits. Her hands were on my head and pressed me down on her willing flesh, and her moans and little cries and the perkiness of her nipples were proof of her pleasure.

Gradually, however, her hands on my head started to push me lower. With sucking little kisses, my lips marked their way down her sides and then over the softness of her belly. When my tongue dived in and twirled in her navel, Helen gasped in surprise, but then, gently but firmly, she began to push my face lower still. She could not see my smile as my lips began to move temptingly along the edge of her triangle.

When my mouth began to hover over her bush, with my hot breath parting its hair, Helen's hands jerked up to her mouth to stifle a welling-up cry. My hands gripping her buttocks felt the contractions of muscles as she fought, I believed, the urge to press her pubes and clits against my just lingering lips. For now, I held back and savoured the exciting smell of Helen's arousal.

When I moved up to wrap her again into a loving embrace and we kissed, there was a questioning excitement in Helen's murmurs about why on earth I had stopped kissing her below.

I asked her to turn over on her belly. With my cock far from being at rest on Hellen's lovely bottom, I continued whispering in her ear what her striptease, her showing off her tits and ass, had done to me. Especially her bending over. Looking at the glistening gap of her pussy between her thighs had made me rock-hard! Making me hot for her like this was dangerous. I would not just look. I would ravish her and this time from behind. It was her fault: She was a naughty temptress!