Aristippus Ch. 03 - Monday Digital

Lacey looked over at her. She had an optimistic smile on her face, but Lacey didn't actually believe her. She loved giving hand jobs to other women, that was apparent -- but Lacey still wasn't sure how much she loved pleasing men -- or was it just a means to an end for her.

After considering her answer for a moment, Lacey said, "Angie, I just love men. I love everything about them, and I love pleasing a man in any way I can. So, I'm really looking forward to learning new skills that I can use to ensure men love me as much as I love them."

Angie didn't immediately respond, and Lacey momentarily felt that maybe her answer was a little too harsh. But she wanted to cut-off Angie's romantic interest in her without being rude. Trying to soften her response, she reached over and ran her hand along Angie's leg. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you; I just want to get everything I can out of this course," Lacey said softly.

"Oh, I do too," Angie quickly said. And luckily, before Lacey had a chance to say anything else, Nina called the group back to order.

"Ladies, this is Will and Richard," Nina said, pointing to the two studs setting up the massage tables near the front of the room. Walking over to the curly redhead, "Now ladies, this is Will," she said in a sultry voice as she ran her hands across his well-toned chest. And this is Richard," she added as she slowly ran her hand across the front of the towel he was wearing around his waist. "But I bet he wouldn't mind if you called him, Dick."

The two young men just smiled, as I'm sure they had heard all this before. But the girls all laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd heard all day. Will and Richard took seats against the massage tables, and as they all faced Nina, the two TV screens flashed a huge flaccid penis. Giggles could be heard from the girls as Nina started her lecture.

"Ladies, this is a penis. Now I understand you have all seen one of these before. But have you really studied it?" All eyes, the guy's as well as the girl's, were riveted on the screens as Nina flipped through slide after slide, exploring every aspect of male genitalia in great detail. Not just the exterior, but an in-depth examination of the nerves, blood supply, testicles, and of particular interest, the prostate. "Ladies," Nina admonished. "The prostate is probably one of the most misunderstood organs of the male anatomy, yet one of the most important. The semen is produced in the prostate -- not the testicles."

The screen flipped to a graphic illustration of a gloved finger well up the butt of a fully erect male, while the other ungloved hand stroked the massive anonymous phallic. "Massaging the prostate while stroking the penis can give the male exceptional pleasure," Nina said while pointing to the illustration. "Unfortunately, this procedure is not part of this course. But for those that are interested, it is included in our Anal Bootcamp, for those of you that are inclined."

As the screens went to a collage of photos depicting scantily clad men in all forms of manly activities -- skiing, surfing, playing basketball, etc., the two gentlemen got up and moved to their respective tables. Nina cleared her throat and said, "Okay, Ladies, it's time to see if you were paying attention."

Four girls gathered around each table, and one by one, placed their hands on the willing male subjects. Nina carefully watched as each girl took their respective turns. After liberally applying lubricant to their hands, every girl practiced each stroke Nina had described. Including one hand, switching hands, the thumb-fore finger circle, massage of the frenulum just below the glandular head, massaging the base of the penis, and finally massaging the perineum. Nina made sure each girl got hands-on experience with each technique. And by carefully controlling the speed of the action, she intentionally delayed any premature climactic eruptions.

After every girl had gotten a good feel for the job at hand, and it was clearly apparent that the guys couldn't take much more, Nina gave the nod to finish them off. As the moment approached, it just so happened that Lacey had her hands-on Will, and Robin was up to bat on Richard's hickory stick. Robin switched to a two-hand grip with interlocking fingers and doubled the speed of her stroke. This brought poor Richard to a rapid and conclusive end. At which point, without saying a word, Robin removed her hold on his throbbing member and reached for a towel to wipe her hands.

On the other hand, Lacey continued her slow and steady one-hand stroke, slipping her free hand under his heavy ball sack and beginning a circular massage of his perineum. As Will's eyes rolled back in his head, she knew his happy ending was soon in sight. Lacey moved her well-lubed thumb of her upper hand to his frenulum and gently began to rub it up and down. Just like Yellowstone's Old Faithfull geyser, Will's release shot high in the air as Lacey slowed her stroke and began to ooh and aah her approval. "Good boy," she praised. "Good boy, you must have really needed that."

After regaining their breath, the boys slid off the massage tables, wrapped themselves in a towel, and disappeared into the staff area. Nina applauded the girls for a job well done and gestured for them to applaud the boys -- which they did. "Well done, Ladies," Nina said as the girls all turned to face her. "Congratulations on the completion of your first lab session. It is now just after four-twenty; that will give you a little more than an hour and a half to get back to your cabins, get a shower and freshen up before Happy Hour. Congratulations again on your first day; the bar opens at six, and I'm sure you could all use a drink by now."

And with that, the ladies all scattered like schoolgirls on the last day of class. Lacey dashed to her cabin, stripped off her afternoon top and shorts, and sprang for the shower. It felt so good; she wanted to stay there the rest of the day, just allowing the cool water to pummel her exhausted mussels. But Lacey was extremely curious about tonight's activities and, of course, her date. So, she stuck to the basics: pits, tits, and privates. Then spread out buck naked on her bed for a quick ten-minute cat nap. Feeling refreshed, she dressed in a loose-fitting white linen blouse, a short skirt of brightly colored spring flowers, and summer sandals. Then a quick touch of makeup, and a couple of passes with the hairbrush, and she was out the door.

As Lacey stepped into the lobby of the lodge, she was pleased to see a group of both girls and guys with drinks in hand and casually socializing. As Lacey placed her hands on the bar, the bartender, a gentleman probably a decade older than the rest of the men, but still very attractive, asked, "What can I get you?"

Lacey usually drank wine in similar circumstances but, realizing that most of the other girls were drinking Cosmopolitans, said, "I'll have what she's having." Pointing to the girl next to her near the bar.

Once she had her drink in hand, she turned to face the room and was immediately approached by one of the male models. "Hi," he said, extending his hand to introduce himself. "I'm Sam, and I believe you're Lacey? Right?"

Politely gripping his hand, she responded, "Yes, I am Lacey. You must have an excellent memory."

"Well, we have photos of all the girls, and we're expected to know who's who," Sam said sheepishly. "I realize it's a little contrived, but Nina wants you to have a good time, and we're here as much to entertain you as we are to assist in your training."

Lacey had almost forgotten about the role-playing nature of their meeting, and Sam's frankness snapped her back to the reality of the retreat. "Well, Sam, it's very nice to meet you," Lacey said with a smile. "And tell me, how long have you worked here at Aristippus?"

Sam laughed, "Well, none of us consider it work. But if you want to know how long I've been coming to these events, this is my third season."

Sipping her drink, Lacey tried to imagine how many women that translated out to -- a hundred, maybe more. But what difference did that make? She was in training to be a professional escort, and she had already slept with over thirty men over the last eighteen months, so it was all relative. And Lacey had always hated that expression, slept with. She didn't actually sleep with them, at least not normally. She fucked them, got paid, and went home. It wasn't romance; it was sex. She was a sex worker, and apparently, so were Sam and the other seven gigolos in the room. But, on the other hand, he was cute, and they were role-playing, so it was all good.

Just as she tried to think of what else she could say to Sam, two other gentlemen stepped up and introduced themselves. It was apparent that no one man was to occupy more than a few minutes of her time and that they were all encouraged to work the room, so to speak, and work it they did. In less than thirty minutes, Lacey had met all eight of their working partners, and the only question was, which five would she have the opportunity to take to bed?

As seven o'clock rolled around, the guys silently disappeared into the kitchen, and when it was apparent that they had all left the room, Nina stepped forward and said, "Ladies, you'll notice that we have eight tables for two set up in the dining room. Each table has a name card on it. When you find your table, please take a seat, and dinner will be served shortly.

The kitchen door swung open as soon as the girls were all seated, and the men paraded out carrying two plates each. With an almost guilty smile, Sam approached Lacey's table. Placing one plate in front of her, he set the other opposite her and sat down. He was clearly both her server and her date for the evening.

"Hi Sam," Lacey said, returning his smile. "Did you know you were my date when you were flirting with me at the bar?"

"No," Sam replied. "Nina keeps all that information fairly close to the breast. Actually, I'm not sure she even knows herself until the last minute."

"Well then," Lacey asks with a twinkle in her eye, "how does she ensure we get a different date every night?"

Realizing that his first explanation probably didn't make much sense, Sam didn't answer her directly, but laughed and placing his elbows on the table, rested his chin in his palms. "Would you like to know what's for dinner?" He asked with a smile.

Lacey looked down at her plate. The aroma was heavenly, but as her gaze focused on what was before her, she had her doubts. As a smirky smile filled her face, she asked, "Yes, what is it?"

"Well," Sam started out slowly. "The movie tonight is Dangerous Beauty. It's the story of a Venetian courtesan who becomes a hero to the city of Venice. So, in honor of her bravery, we are dining on a traditional Venetian dish -- Cacciucco."

Lacey poked at it gingerly with her fork. "So, what's in it," she asked.

"Cacciucco is a classic Italian seafood stew," Sam said, not totally surprised by her question. "It is made with five different kinds of seafood -- one for each of the five C's in the name." As Lacey was still staring and poking at it, Sam explained, "I believe tonight's Cacciucco is fish, shrimp, clams, mussels, and scallops. Try it," he urged. And then, with a taunting smile, he teased, "I'm sorry there are no oysters in the stew tonight, so you will have to be my aphrodisiac."

Lacey smiled and said, "I would love to, Sam." And with that, she put her fork down and picked up her soup spoon. She carefully filled the spoon with the broth and tasted it. She didn't immediately say anything, but she smiled and quickly filled her spoon again and again. When the bowl was about half empty, she finally looked up at Sam and said, "Humm, this is pretty good."

Sam had just been sitting back, watching her, with a smile on his face. "Lacey," he said slowly, "The purpose of this retreat is to experience new things. New concepts, new adventures, and yes, new tastes. Besides, the theme tonight is Love Italian Style, and what is not more Italian than Cacciucco, fresh bread, and red wine."

Lacey agreed, and as the empty dishes were cleared away, Nina refilled the wine glasses for the last time as it was now time for the movie to start. All eight girls, and their respective dates for the evening, transitioned from the dining room to the sitting area of the lodge. The room had been set up with eight love seats, arranged in a semicircle facing a large flat-screen TV. The lights were dimmed, and the movie started right on queue.

Nina was right. The movie fit beautifully into the theme of the entire retreat. The heroin, Veronica Franco, was denied the love of her life due to the entrenched social structure of the day. She then resorted to the life of a courtesan, gaining fame, fortune, and financial security on her own. When her success became too apparent to the 16^th century Venetian elite, she was put on trial and successfully defended herself against the full weight and power of the Catholic Church.

Throughout the movie, the girls were all sitting, hip to hip, with their respective dates. Lacey had no idea what the other girls might be doing, but she was already very comfortable with Sam and began running her hand up and down his leg. And to her surprise, Sam apparently had no objection, as he was quick to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her closer to him than she already was. As the movie reached a dramatic moment, Lacey brought her hand to his crotch. Where she was pleasantly surprised to find a lovely erection lurking just below his zipper. Lacey wanted so badly to pull down that pesky fly and slurp that man-meat into her mouth. But she knew she would have to wait -- at least until after the movie was over.

Everyone else must have had similar thoughts. For as soon as the movie credits began to run, and Nina turned the lights back up, everyone in the room quickly stood, thanked Nina, said their good nights, and promptly headed for the door. Walking briskly back to her cabin, Lacey reached down and grabbed Sam's hand. He instantly accepted the gesture, and together, hand-in-hand, they stepped onto the front porch. She placed her hand on the door handle, paused, and then allowed it to slip off. She immediately spun around, and standing on tiptoes, threw her arms around Sam's neck and squarely placed a big wet kiss on his lips. And this time, Sam responded without a second's delay.

As their kiss finally broke, Lacey flung the door open and pulled Sam inside. Housekeeping had made the bed, tidied up the room, and had laid a fire in the fireplace that was just simply waiting for a match. As Sam knelt beside the fireplace to light it, Lacey excused herself to the bathroom. She hadn't peed since before happy hour, and relieving herself felt good. But as she reached to pull up her panties, she thought, I'm not going to need these, and tossed them in the dirty clothes bag.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she saw Sam relaxing on the sofa, facing the beginnings of a roaring fire in the fireplace. Plopping down on the couch next to him, she immediately rested her arm across his shoulders and tucked her legs under her butt. This time it was Sam's turn to take the initiative, and take it he did. Turning his head to face hers, he wrapped his hands around her head and planted his lips squarely on hers.

They kissed passionately for five or six minutes. And as the fire in the fireplace rapidly increased in intensity, so did the fire of their passion. With the fireplace now ablaze behind her, Lacey slipped to the floor and positioned herself between his knees. Her trembling fingers made quick work of his belt buckle and zipper, and as she tugged at the waistband of his khakis, he obliged her by lifting his butt. With the skill of an artisan, Lacey had Sam's pants off and tossed to the corner in less than a minute.

Pants dispatched, Lacey quickly settled back in between his knees and wrapped her cool hands around his already erect member. He gasped suddenly to the new sensation of her cool fingers, but as she began to stroke him, he quickly settled back down to enjoy the pampering. There was a bottle of lube on the bed stand. But as it was beyond her reach, she didn't want to interrupt the moment, even if just for a few seconds. So, she spit into her hand and applied the warm moisture to the aforementioned item of male anatomy.

Lacey softly brought her lips to the tautly stretched skin of the penis head -- and kissed it. She so badly wanted to suck it, but that wasn't tonight's exercise. Lacey knew that was tomorrow, but what if her date wasn't Sam, and it very likely wouldn't be. But she had to be strong. So, moving her head back, she slowly began a manual stroke. Thinking back to the lessons in class today, she tried to remember each technique. But after five or six minutes, her hand was getting tired, and she was getting impatient. Relying on her own instincts, she resorted to what she knew best. Placing a wet finger under his balls, she began to massage his perineum. Then with the thumb of the same hand, she pressed and massaged the base of the penis where it meets the ball sack. Finally, with the other hand, she began to gently rub the crown and the frenulum flap.

That did it. Within less than thirty seconds, he was ready to pop. Sam's body tightened, his head rolled back, his breath quickened -- and then, pow. His bodily essences shot forth like that of a Roman Candle. One blast ... a second ... a third. Landing in big splats on his chest and stomach. Lacey started to laugh, but mindful of Nina's instructions -- she oohed and aahed. "Good boy," she said. "Wow, that's incredible -- you're my hero," she said, as she continued to slowly milk him. "Jeez Sam, you must have really needed that."

As Lacey lingered, admiring possibly the most amazing piece of manhood she had ever seen, Sam wheezed, "Lacey, you just know how to bring out the best in a man."

"Why, thank you, Sam," Lacey replied with a smile. And with that, she got up off her knees and walked into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth to clean Sam up. Returning to the couch, with the fire still crackling, Lacey straddled his leg instead of kneeling before him as she began to wipe his chest and stomach. As she settled onto his bare leg, he instantly realized that she wasn't wearing any panties, and he knew what he had to do. Grabbing her torso, he lifted her off his leg and stood. Then carrying her to the bed, playfully tossed her to the center of the bed. Sam grabbed both of her ankles and spread them wide, as he fell to his knees and buried his face deep between her legs.

It was now Lacey's turn to gasp for breath as Sam's tongue plunged deep into her. "Ah," she cried, as Sam's tongue and lips dug deeper and deeper. She knew she was seconds from her own orgasm, but in an effort to hold it off as long as possible, she tried to compare Angie's technique to Sam's. Angie's was soft and slow. Her face was supple, and her tongue knew precisely how to please a woman, because she was one.

On the other hand, Sam was more forceful; he knew what he wanted and was not afraid to take control. Sam was clean-shaven. However, his five o'clock shadow did burn Lacey's inner thighs, but at least in a good way. Much like spicy food burns your lips and tongue, but you can't stop eating it.

As her climax hit, it only confirmed what she already knew -- she was heterosexual. And though Angie was good, there was nothing like having a man around the house, or in bed for that matter. And with that conclusion, she let loose a stream of hot feminine juices that Sam lapped up with eager enthusiasm. Sam didn't say anything, but before she had completely quit convulsing, he moved up her chest and entered her with his still surprisingly erect penis.