tagMatureDesperate Ch. 02

Desperate Ch. 02

bybad_hobbit©

Chapter 2 – They're only words

Where we started wasn't quite where I was expecting. We agreed that he would come over to my place and take me to the gym, so I could sign up for the month's trial deal and get my personal program drawn up. "Let's make a start today," he had said.

So for the rest of the day, he and I worked at our respective desks like any other day. I went home feeling happier than I had in months. Mr. Rogers had told me not to eat before my visit to the gym, and that he'd call for me around six-thirty. He left a little early, explaining he had to buy some things on the way home, so I locked up around five thirty and headed for home, to change into my rarely-worn tracksuit and get a coffee before the start of what I saw as my ordeal.

When he arrived, Mr. Rogers had a bag from the Seven Eleven. Inside he had some fish, chicken breasts, a selection of fruits, a bag of salad, some carrots, celery, zucchini, a small jar of honey, which he unpacked. There was also another bag from that sex supermarket that I'd seen but never ventured into. "Now, show me what you have in your refrigerator and kitchen cupboards." It was a demand, not a request, and I knew better than to hide anything.

He took the empty Seven-Eleven bag and filled it with stuff; Oreos, donuts, Gatorade, candy and Hershey bars, even bottles of Caesar dressing. "These are unhealthy, Vicky, and they'll make you fat. You're only eating them because you're unhappy, and that makes you less attractive and more unhappy. We're breaking that cycle here and now." He even tore the menus from the local pizza and burger places off the wall beside my phone and stuffed them in the bag. When he'd finished, he dropped the bag in the trash can.

"But Mr. Rogers, what am I going to eat tonight? I could've put the dressing on the salad you bought, but you've taken that too!"

"Vicky, you need to start eating more fruit and vegetables, and simple things like grilled or steamed fish. The dressing is full of fat and sugar, so in future you need to keep it simple. This first week is really important if you're to lose those pounds. I'll show you how to cook it when we get back from the gym, but if you're ready, let's go!"

The gym was torment. We got signed up, and I had an interview with a trainer who put together a program for me, designed to tone me up and shed those pounds. Mr. Rogers had explained to them that I needed to lose weight for my health, and as part of a fitness scheme he was promoting at work.

I spent five minutes on the cross-trainer and thought I was going to die. The resistance machines were a little easier; the instructor (who I though was cute, with really tight buns) said I had quite good upper-body strength, but I lacked stamina and was carrying too much fat. The program he gave me aimed to help me lose a lot of weight over the next month – but I needed to be there at least three times a week.

I watched Mr. Rogers working out, and realized that he was pretty fit. He's not that muscular to look at, more sort of lean, but the muscles in his arms and legs stood out when he was pushing weights, and he spent ages on the treadmill, running pretty fast.

When we got back to my apartment, I was bushed. I went for the Gatorade, but realized that he'd already thrown it out. Mr. Rogers made me drink around a quart of water, which was boring but at least made me feel better. Then he showed me how to prepare a salad and some fish for grilling in a little butter.

"But first, I need to explain your homework," he said. "Some of it you need to do before you eat, and some tonight in bed."

He picked up the zucchini. There were three of them, about six or seven inches long and different thicknesses. "These are not for cooking. You know we talked about blowjobs? Well, this is the first stage of your training. What I need you to do, now and in the morning before breakfast, is this. Wash the zucchini carefully; start with the smallest one, here." He took the vegetable, washed it in anti-bacterial cleaner, and dried it on some kitchen paper. "Then dip it in the honey, like this." He poured a little of the honey into a saucer and rolled the rounded end of the zucchini around in it.

"Now," he said, facing me and placing a hand on my chin. "Open wide."

I looked at him in surprise, but opened my mouth as he said. He raised the zucchini to my lips and pushed it inside my mouth. Instinctively I closed my mouth, biting lightly on the smooth skin, tasting the honey very strongly.

"Stop, Vicky. Don't bite. What I need you to do is to slide this as far back in your mouth as you can, and then lick the honey off with your tongue while it's inside your mouth. Then close your lips around it, and pull it back out of your mouth without touching it with your teeth. Think you can do that?"

I nodded and grunted my agreement, took the zucchini from him and slid maybe two inches into my mouth.

"Deeper, Vicky. Try to get around twice that inside before you close your lips. And remember, keep your teeth clear."

I tried what he asked, and immediately started to gag, instinctively pulling the vegetable back out, spluttering.

"OK Vicky. You'll just need to keep trying until it becomes more natural. Just do as I've instructed. Start tonight with the small one, and try it as often as you can, for as long as you can. When you can take most of this one as deep as possible, and hold it there, try again with the next size up, and then the next size after that."

I looked at the largest zucchini with dismay. "Mr. Rogers, I'll never be able to get that into my mouth. It's – it's huge!"

"Actually, Vicky, it's only a little larger than my cock. My wife sucks that all the time."

I must have blushed bright red, and I'm sure my expression must have betrayed my shock at what he'd just said, because Mr. Rogers took hold of my arms and looked straight into my eyes with a look on his face that said he was getting annoyed. When he spoke, I could tell he was not happy.

"Vicky, listen to me. You come to me in a terrible state, saying that you're a virgin at forty-six and you're desperate to have sex. So I agree to help you, but you're going to have to learn fast. We are in the 21st Century, not the 1950's. Almost nothing is taboo nowadays, and a lot of what was thought perverted in our parents' day is now mainstream. Of course my wife sucks my cock, just as I lick her pussy. And we fuck, Vicky. That's right, Vicky, f-u-c-k fuck. That's what grown-ups call it nowadays, and you're going to have to get used to it. Here..."

He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and wrote down a list of words.

"Here are some words you'll need to know. I want you to practice saying these words until they no longer offend you." I looked down the list, and they were all words that made me cringe – cock, dick, titties, pussy, ass, fuck, cunt. Those last two made my stomach churn. And another word, clit, that I hadn't heard before.

"Read them out, Vicky." I looked at him, open mouthed, and said nothing.

"Vicky," he said with that sort of angry look on his face, "you said you want me to teach you about sex, is that right?" I nodded. "You want me to relieve you of your virginity, right?" I nodded again, a little miserably. This was getting scary again. "Right, so actually what you've asked me to do is to make your pussy wet, then to slide my cock into your cunt and fuck you, and maybe play with your clit until you come. Do you understand that?" I nodded again, looking at the floor in shock and embarrassment. But in truth, I understood most – if not all – of it.

"Vicky!" He grabbed my face in his hands and lifted my head until I looked back into his eyes. "Say it, Vicky. What am I going to do with you? Tell me, like I told you!"

"You – you're gonna..." I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "You're gonna make my – my pussy wet, then you're gonna slide your – your – your c-cock into me – into..." I trailed off. "I can't, Mr. Rogers. I just can't."

"Vicky, if you can't say it, then I can't do it. That means we stop our little project right here, and you most likely stay a virgin until your dying day. Now do you want that, or will you learn to say it?"

Tears were rolling down my cheeks. My throat was tight. "OK, OK!" I gasped.

Again, I swallowed hard to loosen my throat, took several deep breaths and closed my eyes.

"Mr. Rogers, you're gonna – you're gonna make my pussy wet, then slide your cock into my – my – my c-c-cunt." I opened my eyes. "Was that OK?"

"Good, but you missed a bit. When my cock's in your cunt, Vicky – your tight little virgin cunt, Vicky – I'm going to keep sliding it in and out, in and out, fucking you with my nice fat cock and teasing your little clitty until you come. You'll like that. I guarantee you'll like that a lot. So shall we say it all again?"

"O-OK, Mr. Rogers, if that's what you want."

"Vicky, I'm describing what you want. You told me you want to find out about sex, to lose your virginity. That means you want to feel a cock in your cunt. You want a man to fuck you. Is that what you want, Vicky?" The anger in his voice had receded a bit, but he was still very forceful.

"I – yeah, I guess."

"You do or you don't, Vicky. Either you want to feel a cock fucking your cunt or you want to stay a virgin. Which is it to be?"

"I – I want to feel a – a cock, f-fucking my – my cunt, Mr. Rogers." I looked at him. Now I'd said those awful words, it didn't feel so bad. They were just words, and I had an image in my mind of what it might look like. I felt sorta wet between my legs.

"OK, try it again, Vicky."

I took a very deep breath, then looked him straight in the face. "I want to feel a cock – I want to feel your cock, Mr. Rogers, fucking my cunt." And suddenly I giggled. It wasn't funny or anything, but the situation made me feel strange and it was almost like a rush of relief when those words, forbidden for decades, came tumbling out. And I'd made it personal. Mr. Rogers was the one who was going to take my virginity, and I'd reminded him of that.

"Again, Vicky."

This time I smiled. "Mr. Rogers, I can't wait to feel your cock, fucking my cunt. Is that better?"

He smiled, and he had this strange look in his eyes. "That's much better, Vicky. But you missed a bit. I assume you want to come, don't you?"

"Oh sure, Mr. Rogers! I'll be there, wherever we go."

He looked at me in amazement. "Vicky, don't you know what coming is? Have you never heard of an orgasm?"

"I – I've heard the word. I just – felt too embarrassed to ask what it was."

"Did you ever see 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Sure Mr. Rogers."

"Well that scene where Meg Ryan is making all those moaning noises in the diner; what did you think she was doing?"

"Well I never really understood that bit, but everyone else seemed to think it was really funny so I just laughed along."

"Right. Vicky, the whole reason people have sex is to experience pleasure, right?" I nodded. "OK, and the peak of that pleasure, for both men and women, is the orgasm. For men it's centered on the penis – the cock – and when they orgasm, or come, the cock spurts out some fluid. It's how babies are made. You do know that, don't you?"

"Sure, Mr. Rogers. I knew that the man squirts fluid into the woman. I just didn't really know precisely how."

"Good. Well for women, the orgasm is different. It usually comes from your clitoris. You do know where your clitoris is, don't you?"

My expression must have spoken volumes, because he looked toward the ceiling and said "Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought."

He looked at his watch, then back at me and said "OK Vicky, I was going to save this for later in the week, but I think we'd better get started right now. Take your clothes off."

"What? Right here?" I was suddenly flustered.

"Yeah. Quickly, I don't have much time."

In a flurry of embarrassment, I removed my tracksuit, and then, at his insistence, my bra and panties.

"Actually, Vicky, your body's not too bad at all. You have some good muscle-tone. You just need to lose a few pounds, so stick with the diet and the program that the trainer gave you and you'll be fine. Now sit on that chair and open your legs."

I did as he said, turning beetroot red. He knelt on the floor in front of me, staring straight at the slit between my legs. I was so embarrassed. Then he touched me, and a weird sort of tingle went right through me, and I gasped.

"Vicky, I think you need to trim up your pubic hair a bit. Some girls wax it all off, which looks really sexy, but you should start by trimming it back with nail scissors until you can see the pussy lips. Hold on a moment."

He got up, went into my bedroom which was right off the hall, and came back with a small, portable mirror, which he held between my legs.

"Open wider. Good. Now see these here? These are your outer lips, with the hairs growing out of them. And these," he sucked his fingers and then slipped them into my slit, which made me squirm a little, but which actually felt really good, "these are your inner lips. They're pretty – not too large and fleshy, just nice."

I was pleased with these compliments I was getting, and with the sensations that were coming up from where he was touching me.

"Oh – and you're wet. So something we've been doing has turned you on, Vicky."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers."

"For God's sake don't apologize. That's the whole point of the exercise – to get you aroused and eager to have sex – to fuck, Vicky. You need all this natural lube to make it feel good, and it seems you're wetting up nicely." He pulled his finger out and licked it. I should have felt disgusted, but it was so strange that I was intrigued. "Mmmm. You taste good, Vicky." He smiled.

"You – you like the taste of my – my, secretions...?"

"Vicky, they're called pussy juices. Guys like to taste them. Before I fuck you, I'll probably want to lick your pussy, just like I'll want you to suck my cock. You'll like it, I promise you."

I wasn't sure if the thought of having Mr. Rogers licking me between my legs was something I found horrifying or exciting. It was all so strange.

He slipped his finger back between my outer lips, and pushed a little deeper. I could feel him sliding that finger inside me, until it suddenly stopped, and there was a sort of uncomfortable pulling sensation.

"Hey, Vicky, you have a genuine hymen! They're such a rarity these days. Julia never had one, though she claimed she was a virgin when we met. She says hers broke horse-riding. I suppose you never did any of that?"

"No sir, my parents thought things like that were too dangerous."

"OK, Vicky. So when I get to fuck you, it might hurt a little, because there's a thin layer of skin across your vagina – your cunt, don't forget – that has to be broken before my cock will go in and I can fuck you properly. Maybe I can break it beforehand with my fingers. We'll see. So how does it feel when I touch your pussy?"

"Strange, but – very nice."

"Good. Now how about when I touch you here?" He slid his finger up along my slit towards the front, and suddenly the sensations all went a lot stronger. I gasped.

"Wow Mr. Rogers. What was that? Was that an orgasm?"

He smiled. He was no longer angry, just amused. "No, Vicky, but it's the start of one of the easiest ways for you to get an orgasm. Now I'm gonna have to go in a few minutes, so here's what you need to do. Where I touched you is your clitoris, usually just referred to as your clit. Tonight you're going to find out all about your pussy and your clit, as part of your homework. After you've done your training with the zucchini – maybe ten, fifteen minutes of practice, and eaten your dinner, you're gonna take a nice bath, and then you're gonna get into bed with this mirror, and explore all round your pussy with your fingers. You got that?"

"Yes, Mr. Rogers. But I'm sure it would feel better if you were to do it for me."

"Vicky, you need to learn your body for yourself. Explore, stroke, use your fingers to find out what feels good. Over on the table there's a gift I've brought you. It's a small vibrator with some sleeves. Put the smooth one on it, turn it on by twisting the base, and when your pussy is nice and wet and tingly, run it over your outer lips, then your inner lips, then your clit. Keep going until you come – I'm sure you'll know when that is. Then tomorrow, I want you to come into my office thirty minutes early and tell me all about it. And I also want you to demonstrate how far you've got with the zucchini and honey, and to tell me again what I'm going to do to you, when the time's right. Got that?"

I was breathless. His finger was still touching my pussy, just rubbing gently near what I now realized was my clit, and it was so tingly and fizzy that I didn't want him to stop. He took my hand and placed it over my pussy, pressed my middle finger against my clit, and to be honest it felt nearly as good.

"Vicky, have you got that? Tell me what you're going to do."

"Y-Yes, Mr. Rogers. I'm gonna practice with the zucchini, then after dinner I'm gonna take a bath, and then..."

"And then trim your pubic hair as well, so it looks neat and you can see what you're doing."

"OK, so I'll do that, and then I'm gonna explore my pussy with my fingers. And then I'm gonna try out the vibrator." I was instinctively rubbing my pussy now, and it was feeling really good.

"Sure. And tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, I'm gonna get in thirty minutes early, and.." the sensations between my legs were feeling really good. I started stroking back and forth over my clit.

"And?" Mr. Rogers was smiling at me. He didn't seem to mind that I was playing with my pussy in front of him.

"And I – I'm gonna show you – show you what I can do – with the – the zucchini. And – and – I'm gonna learn –those words – that you want – want me to – to say." God, it was feeling so good. My fingers were making my pussy feel so amazing. I couldn't believe the sensations.

"And what are those words, Vicky. Tell me what I'm going to do?"

"You're gonna – your gonna slide – slide your cock – cock into my cu-cu-cunt – cunt – and f-fuck – fuck – fuck ..."

About that time my legs started thrashing and I arched my back and all these amazing, totally incredible sensations shot through me. It felt like I was in a sort of electric chair – maybe an electric saddle, because everything radiated from between my legs.

When I slumped back. I could see that Mr. Rogers was laughing.

"Oh Mr. Rogers! I'm so ashamed! I..."

"Vicky, for fuck's sake don't be ashamed! What you just did was totally natural, fun and beautiful. Do you realize how sexy you look? How horny you've made me?"

Me, sexy? Me? Dowdy old me?

"Look, Vicky. I'll just give you an idea of how hot that looked."

He stood up, then slid down his tracksuit bottoms. What popped out looked so big and scary and strange and sexy, all at the same time.

"See how hard you've made me, Vicky. You can see that my cock's throbbing with the anticipation of fucking you. Fucking you, Vicky! Not right now, Vicky, though God knows I'd like to after what you've just shown me, but you're not ready and I'm going to be late home as it is. But here's my cock, Vicky. You've seen it. Now do you remember what I'm going to do with it, Vicky?"

I looked at this big, hard rod of flesh in a mixture of amazement, awe and terror. I was still trembling from my first ever orgasm, and was now presented with the first penis – cock – I'd ever seen in the hard, swollen flesh.

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