Getting an Education

I was studying to become a landscaper and as part of the course I had to work for a gardening firm for six months. My mentor at the firm was a guy called Bob, generally known as Big Bob.

I was nineteen, six foot tall, and weighed around two hundred pounds, and it was honest muscle, not fat. I was reasonable looking with fair hair and hazel eyes and, despite all these pluses, not very confidant where women were concerned. It didn't really worry me as I was sure once I got started my confidence would pick up.

Bob, on the other hand, measured up to his title of Big Bob. He was inches taller than me, somewhat broader, and probably outweighed me by fifty pounds. If I ever got into a fight with him I would depend on my speed, basically taking to my heels and running like crazy. Hitting his fists with my face wasn't going to win any fights.

He was a surprisingly good mentor, teaching me a lot. For such a big man he had a delicate touch where plants were concerned and he loved to talk, telling me why he was doing things and what he expected the outcome to be.

Three months into my work experience we were at this place that had a very large yard with a lot of flower beds. With the prolific spring growth under way we had to get the place tidied up and we hopped to. After we'd completed the front yard we moved around the back. Big Bob said he was going to start trimming some bushes. I, he announced, was going to go into the conservatory and take notes, deciding what had to be done in there. I was not, he added, going to touch a single thing in the conservatory. Just take notes, which he would examine and mark.

I wandered over to the house, opened the conservatory door, and barged in. As soon as that door banged closed behind me I became aware of several things. First, I'd entered the wrong door. How did I know? Well the first clue was that I was standing in the kitchen. The second clue was the fact that the owner of the house, or at least his wife, was home and in the kitchen. She was a thirtyish, blue eyed, blonde, and that blonde was her natural colour, not something out of a bottle. Again, how did I know? The woman was standing there starkers, and her little tuft down there was on display.

So was everything else. Her breasts were white with pink tips. Her mons was white, with that touch of fur blending in. She had a slight tan and I wondered where she found enough sun to get it. I also noticed that the bikini she wore was a little on the small side, not that I would have complained. I was surprised to notice that her breasts stood proud with no sag; surprised because they weren't the smallest pair of breasts around. A proper handful there.

I'd come to a screeching halt as soon as I saw her, just staring, frozen to the spot.

"That's right," she said. "Take a good look. Enjoying what you see?"

In hindsight I guess she was being sarcastic but the sarcasm flew straight past without touching me. I just nodded.

"Oh, yes," I said most earnestly. "You are absolutely marvellous."

She laughed. Apparently she found my reaction amusing. She strolled closer to me while I found myself blushing, getting redder with every step she took. And it wasn't only my face that had blood rushing to it.

When she was close enough she took the pen and notepad I was holding and tossed them onto the table. Then she took my hands and placed them on her breasts.

"So how do they feel?" she asked. "I'm curious as you were looking so hard I could actually feel your eyes touching me."

Suave, sophisticated, me just babbled, saying absolutely nothing that made sense.

"You know, that's just what I thought you'd say," she said with a smirk. "What do you say now?"

Even as she was speaking she was taking one of my hands and moving it down so it was against her pussy. What I was saying was nothing, even though my hand closed over her and started rubbing her.

"Struck dumb, are we?" she asked me.

I opened my mouth to reply but found I didn't have the faintest idea of what to say. It was plain that I'd totally lost my wits. (Not so lost that I took my hands off her, mind you.)

"I thought from the dumbfounded way you looked at me that you might be a virgin. Do you have any idea of how to use this?"

Just like that her hand closed over my erection, apparently checking the size of it. I gave a startled yelp and she laughed. She seemed to be really enjoying herself.

I was relieved when she released me (and a little disappointed). I wasn't quite so relieved when she yanked my shorts down and my erection sprang into sight.

She took a step back, resulting in my hands finally dropping away from her, while she looked me over.

"I think we can do something with that," she assured me. "As a matter of fact I think we'll probably have to because if it gets any bigger it might explode."

The kitchen had one of those island benches in it and she backed up to it, drawing me along with her. I'll give you one guess as to what she was holding to draw me along, not that I was in any condition, or had any desire, to protest.

"Young men like you have a tendency to go berserk once you get your cock into place," she told me. "I'll give you fair warning. Don't. If you do I'll slap you silly and that will be the end of it. Just take it nice and easy and listen to what I'm telling you. That way we can both have a bit of fun."

With that she was positioning my cock and telling me to push, slowly. I found out right away what she meant about wanting to go berserk. I wanted to drive my cock into her just as hard and as fast as I could and then to keep on doing it. Instead I applied enough pressure to start sliding into place. She was hot and wet and I found myself entering her quite smoothly, despite the relative tightness of her passage.

Then I was balls deep inside her and she had a smug look on her face.

"OK, hands on my breasts and start sliding, but remember to keep it slow for now. I'll tell you when to speed it up."

I was having trouble believing that this was happening. The proof, of course, was my cock dipping in and out, feeling her pushing to meet me as I pushed in and relaxing to let me pull back.

I hadn't realised that it would be so hard to keep going so slowly. I was chewing on my lips and sweating and all my common sense was being eroded by the feeling of my cock sliding into her.

After a while I was reaching a point where I was going to speed up, being slapped silly no longer seeming to be a consequence to worry about. Possibly she could tell this from the way my hands were opening and closing rather spasmodically on her breasts, squeezing them and releasing them.

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded. "Pick up the pace a little. Not too fast but you can do better than this can't you?"

Like it was my fault that we weren't going hell for leather? I manfully refrained from saying anything (rule 1 of my new book - don't argue with a woman while fucking her) and picked up the pace. I suspected that she still didn't want hell for leather so while I did start going considerably faster I still wasn't flat out, no brakes, and the accelerator flat to the floor.

She was still moving with me but now she was making little gasping sounds every time I drove into her, our groins making a slapping sound as I barrelled in. I was hoping that she was almost ready to climax as I knew damn well that I was going to and being slapped silly or not it was going to happen quite soon.

I finally said fuck it and really put some muscle into it. I was going in hard and fast, ready to explode, not really caring what she thought of the situation. Then I was climaxing, jerking away as I loosed my all, thoroughly hosing her down. She gave a little shriek and her passage seemed to just clamp around me, holding me tight as she climaxed as well.

We parted and I hoicked my shorts back up. She, on the other hand, merely reached for a cloth on the counter and wiped herself down, smiling smugly.

"Not bad for a virgin," she told me.

Was that a compliment or not? Damned if I knew. And I wasn't a virgin. Not now, anyway. Before I could say anything another voice spoke up.

"Hey, Kev, I thought I told you to just take notes and not touch anything?" said Big Bob, and turning my head I saw him standing in the doorway. He didn't give me a chance to reply, just going on with what he wanted to say.

"I also thought that I've told you several time not to do anything until I've shown you the right way to do it. Now watch closely."

With that he dropped his own trousers and demonstrated that he was bigger than me in every way. He was also giving the woman a very hard look.

"Bend over and rest your hands on that chair," he said, pointing to a kitchen chair.

"What? If you think I'm going to. . ." she started, but Big Bob interrupted her.

"Oh shut up and do as you're told, woman," he snapped, and to my surprise she blushed and did so.

"Never let the woman think she's the boss," he advised me. "If you do she'll control every aspect of your life."

While talking he was moving up behind her. He adjusted his position slightly and then he was driving into her, housing himself with one sudden thrust, which she accepted with a yowl like a cat on heat.

Hands clasping her hips he started pumping into her, giving it to her hard and fast, her breasts dangling below her, swinging back and forth in time to his rhythm.

It seemed to me that Big Bob was going out of his way to torment her. He started off pounding away at a high rate, and she was still worked up enough from my valiant effort to be susceptible to his actions. From the look on her face I was expecting her to climax at any moment and then Big Bob called a halt.

"You have to take a break every so often," he told me, "or they get over excited and can't last the distance. Give them a chance to calm down and you can ride them for a lot longer."

(Did I mention at any time that Big Bob was a total chauvinist? If I didn't you might have been able to work it out for yourself by now.)

Apparently she objected to either his words, his fucking her, or his taking a break, because she started to protest. Big Bob just casually slapped her bottom.

"Quiet, you," he said, and to underline his command he started bouncing her on his cock once more. This time his arms went around her and he held her breasts as he pounded away.

When Big Bob took his third break she gave a shriek of frustrated fury.

"What's the problem?" he asked. "You were telling Kev to take it easy and that's what I'm doing. Some people are hard to please."

He got to work again and it was plain that this time there would be no stopping him. She was working overtime, her bottom bouncing up and down as she stayed with him, meeting his every thrust, giving voice all the time now. Then Big Bob was letting fly and she screamed as she climaxed.

Afterwards Big Bob casually pulled on his trousers while she looked totally wasted. Big Bob pointed me towards the conservatory to continue what I was supposed to be doing. She left the kitchen, muttering something about a shower as she went.

I checked out the conservatory and it was in pretty good condition. I suspected that it was maintained much more regularly than the main gardens. Then it was outside for more work on the actual gardens and some lawn mowing.

Driving home with the day's work behind us Big Bob dropped his bombshell.

"What do you want to bet that she'll expect us to fuck her again tomorrow?"

I blinked. The thought had never occurred to me.

"You're kidding," I suggested.

"Nah. You'll see I'm right. She'll want to see how you handle it for your second time. The fact that it means I'll also fuck her afterwards is just the price that she's willing to pay."

I was silent. Big Bob wasn't. He started giving me instructions on exactly how to fuck her the next day. In his own way he was an excellent mentor.