Educated by the School Nurse

"Oh man," I said, cringing at the thought of not only wrestling a woman but probably losing to her as well, and when I admitted as much Miss Couse simply smiled.

"No shame in losing. Sometimes it's even fun," she added, and after a minute more of being amused at me massaging her arm and shoulders she told me to go ahead, and this time I didn't insult her by pretending I didn't know what she was talking about.

"Mmm," Miss Couse sighed as my hand slid down from her bicep and into the tuft of thick black hair that filled the hollow of her armpit, and as I raked my fingers through the soft dense fur she sighed again.

"Am I tickling you?" I asked when I saw her body shiver.

"Noooo... feels nice," she said. "Armpit hair on women turn you on?"

"No - er - well I guess so," I said. "Don't see it too much."

"That's true. You were born too late," Miss Couse said as my hand slid down and played with the hair that grew in the innermost part of her thighs. "You would have loved it back in the 60's and 70's. A lot of women didn't shave. You'd be surprised at how many people find it sexy, even though many won't admit it."

I didn't know about that, because I don't know how most women would look with armpit hair, only that it looked perfect on her. The proof of how I felt was poking Miss Couse in her hip.

"Does that mean you're coming back tomorrow?" Miss Couse asked.

"Well sure," I said. "We aren't finished with the field."

"Won't take all day to finish," Miss Couse said as we got out of bed.

"If you don't wear that tank-top we could be done by noon," I said, and that caused Miss Couse to bust out laughing as she headed for the bathroom.

"You're something," she said, shaking her head at my goofiness, and when she saw my boner bouncing around in front of me she stopped and came back to me.

"Get a good night's sleep so you don't conk out on me tomorrow," Miss Couse warned me before she went to her knees in front of me and said, "Looks too good to walk away from."

Her hands never touched anything except my buttocks as she swallowed my cock, her lips going right down to my pubes. With my nuts on her chin she simply sucked my cock. Sucked it without ever moving her lips, with what felt like her throat doing all the work, and when I came she kept sucking like she was trying to drain my balls.

Only me collapsing back onto the bed broke the oral lock she had on my dick, and it felt so good that I got into such a laughing jag that I couldn't stop any more that I could keep my leg from twitching. I slid down on the rug and hugged Miss Couse, and could only think that just 12 hours ago I didn't have a clue about the woman.

***

Epilogue.

Of course I went back the next day, and we did get the work done by lunchtime, leaving the afternoon free for other activities. Yes, I did let her put the strap on inside of me again - the small one - but never had the nerve or the desire for the other one, but taking it made Miss Couse happy, and it wasn't that bad for me either.

That was far from the last time I went to see Miss Couse either. I made myself a frequent visitor to her place during my college breaks, and even took her up on her invitations to lift weights and to wrestle a couple of times.

My record wrestling her was one win and one loss, and she was right. Losing wasn't so bad and could be fun. She suspected that I lost that one time on purpose, but that was okay because I accused her of the same thing when I managed to beat her.

That was back in 1985, and that was as kinky as my sex life ever got. I did try the strap on with my wife doing the honors many years later but it wasn't anything approaching the same and I never did it again after that.

One time during my senior year in college I stopped home as a surprise one weekend. It was late and my kid sister was the only one home. She explained that Mom was out playing bingo so after we chatted for a bit I said that I was going to go to the store.

I wasn't interested in going to the store at all, but when I roared down the street to Miss Couse's place I saw that the lights were out. Not wanting to bother her, I pulled into the driveway to turn around, and as my headlights flashed on the car in the driveway I saw a familiar sight.

My Mom's car.

I didn't think anything of it, figuring that they had probably driven to the VFW bingo hall together to save gas, but as I swung out I saw that Miss Couse's car was parked back by the driveway.

Killing my headlights, I pulled off the road by the field I had helped clear and ran across the lawn, looking down in the cellar first and afraid at what I would find, but it was dark. I went around to the side of the house and looked at the bedroom window.

There was a candle flickering in the bedroom, and I could see a couple of people on the bed. I could have seen more, but I stopped and turned back around. Not that I wasn't interested, but it didn't seem right.

Mom had not only given me life, but she had managed to provide for me and my sister when the old man turned out to be a real dick. What was going on in there was none of my business, and since it involved the two women that had given me more love and happiness than anybody else on earth, all I could do was get in my car and head home. It didn't stop me from fantasizing, but that was it.

Years later, I didn't have to ask about anything because my mother told me about her and Meg Couse. Mom was retiring and was planning on moving down to Florida. Coincidentally, so was Miss Couse, and Mom was pleased when I not only didn't object but was happy for her, and them.

I never asked Mom the one question that I always wondered about. Did Mom send me to work with Miss Couse that day for a reason? Was she afraid that I was too shy and lacked confidence so badly that I needed someone to - I don't know - show me the ropes?

If that's what it was, it worked. The boy that went to the Couse Farm that summer morning - a farm that never happened by the way, save a little tomato garden - left a man. I did things that I would never have gotten to experience otherwise and learned a lot about women, and myself in the process.

***

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