Gigolo

Rebecca chimed in, "Let's watch the video of those first minutes. Marla, please point out the signs you feel that Cyr missed."

As Marla described the action, Cyr saw how she had in fact tugged on his cock, trying to lie back and guide him into her. How, when he spent evidently too long sucking one of her breasts, she had tried to move him off, to her other. How when he began his slow licking and kissing path down to her pussy, she had tried to pull him up. He had misinterpreted that as her being hesitant, perhaps shy about him giving her head during their first time.

His chagrin was real and he apologized. "Marla, I'm terribly sorry that I screwed up." When the women chuckled at his inadvertent double entendre, he felt even more abashed. Until Marla kissed him. Seriously kissed him.

She said, "Cyr, there's no need to apologize. Whenever two people make love for the first time, it's almost always not as good as the next. It's terribly exciting, of course, but, because both people are so aroused, so in the throes of sexual passion, many signals are missed. You picked up some, and made truly gentle, wonderful love to me. I really think..."

Cyr realized how truly invested his mentor was in this session when Rebecca interrupted her friend. "Marla, did you give Cyr any verbal cues? Tell him to just fuck you?"

It was Marla's turn to be abashed. "No, I didn't. I was... I don't know, feeling shy suddenly, almost girlish in the face of such raw, naked masculinity. I was worried it wasn't proper, ladylike, for me to say that I wanted to be just taken and roundly fucked. I'm sorry, Cyr. I should have told you."

It was his turn to kiss her. She held it longer than he expected, and his cock, which had been firming steadily, twitched between his thighs and achieved lift off.

Rebecca chuckled, grabbed his rising rod, and said, "Easy, boy. All in good time, but first we need to finish the after-action report. Marla, first of all, thank you for doing this, for being with Cyr and giving us your honest appraisal."

She then asked specifics about how effectively Cyr had fondled and sucked her breasts, whether his constantly roaming hands had made her tingle all over -- they had -- and then finally she asked Marla to comment on his cunnilingus technique.

"Well, since I came, often and hard, it was fine."

Cyr sensed there was more and asked, "But...? What could I have done better? I'd really like to know."

"Each time I got close, was almost there, you seemed to pull back. Specifically, you moved your tongue off the head of my clitoris." Marla paused, shuddering as a spark of rekindling arousal shivered through her. "It sort of left me hanging."

"I did notice that you seemed to take longer than I expected to climax. I guess I should have..."

Rebecca leapt in, "Oh my God! This is my fault! When Cyr gets me to the brink, my clit always becomes hypersensitive, and I've coached him to pull back, to begin licking and kissing the shaft rather than the tip." She shook her head in wry dismay and continued, "I've always told Cyr that he should treat each woman as the unique jewel she is because what works for one may not for another. Then I went ahead and told him that the best way to get a woman off with his tongue is to do what's best for me. Cyr, I'm sorry. I thought..."

Marla's sexy alto cut off her friend. "Don't be silly, Rebecca, we all make mistakes, and I'm sure Cyr has learned something new." After a brief pause, she continued, an impish twinkle in her eyes. "You know what, though. I think it's like riding a horse. If you get thrown, it's best to get right back on. Come here, Cyr. Show me what you've learned."

Marla took Cyr's hair in her hands, lay back on the bed, and guided his head down to her pussy. "Oh, yes, that feels wonderful. I love circles -- do them around my post. Umphh! That was fabulous, how you sucked the hood into your lips and brushed it up and down.

"Yes, continue, just like that. Might I trouble you for a finger in my vagina? Oh! Yes! Your fingers are very big, too." Between moans, she continued, "Ah, yes. Perfect. Just there! Lick it again."

Marla's play-by-play of being eaten alive was increasingly interrupted by gasps as her level of arousal soared ever higher. When she was rendered mute -- other than panting and sighing -- Cyr let the avid energy of her sounds guide his tongue. It circled her post, constantly boring in to the center, and when she began to tremble he directed his rapid flicks directly to the tip. When Marla's delicious little breaths morphed into gasping, full-throated cries, Cyr had to hold her ass cheeks tight, lest her flailing and thrashing pull her trigger from his tongue.

He stopped immediately when the slight push on his head indicated that it was suddenly too intense. Watching her protégée intuitively back off, Rebecca, her voice betraying a teacher's pride in her student, said, "Well done, Cyr. Now, as I've often told you, many women have another orgasm standing in line just behind the first. From the video I think Marla is one of them. See it you can get her to scream even louder this time."

He did.

When Cyr felt Rebecca's hands caressing his back and buttocks, it reminded him of how aroused she had become during their tango. He pulled his head away from Marla, lay back and beckoned to his long-time lover and mentor.

Having surreptitiously shed her clothes, Rebecca quickly planted her sex on his mouth and reached down to fondle his penis. A pussy-nectar connoisseur, Cyr was appreciating the slightly more piquant and fragrant taste of his dance instructor's juice, when Marla, dismayed at finding herself suddenly abandoned, sat up, pried Rebecca'a hands off Cyr's tool, threw her leg over his hips and guided his cock into her still tingling vagina.

The cowgirl and the queen kissed and caressed each other's breasts as Cyr's probes prodded their pussies.

He didn't need to worry about Rebecca's oversensitivity as she reached her climax. She lifted herself higher, and he just kept his licks steady, allowing her to put his tongue where she wanted it.

As Rebecca trembled and moaned, Cyr felt Marla's fingers find his balls. She proved very skillful, and his scrotum clamped them tightly to his body. One prelude to ejaculation.

Knowing his assignment was not to come again, Cyr fought to hold back, to ignore how the silk-glove tightness of Marla's vagina was caressing every cell of his penis. When, sensing his reticence, Marla increased the tempo of her riding and dug deeper with her fingers, Cyr put his hands on her hips and stilled them. It was becoming too much.

Noting the interplay, Rebecca told her friend, "Marla, Dr. Jansen's program specifies that Cyr is not supposed to ejaculate again today. We are supposed to edge him multiple times but he should not release his semen. It will swell his urethra and penile bulb, increasing their capacity, and boost his testosterone level. For maximum impact on the women he seduces, Cyr needs to be able to ejaculate more cum, more often, and shoot it harder than any previous lover his next assignment has ever had. So, Marla, please don't mess with our protocol."

Marla's unspoken response was to begin clenching and relaxing her vaginal muscles. Her verbal reply was even more direct. "But I want him to come! I want to feel that huge cock get even bigger, feel it swell and pulse as it shoots its spunk deep into me. Denying him may be your game, Rebecca, but I'm playing mine."

With that she grasped Cyr's hands and pulled them from her hips. While he easily could have overpowered her, she was his guest lover, and he was duty-bound to please her. Marla's hips renewed their irresistible motion, sliding her vagina along Cyr's erection, and, while her one hand resumed kneading his balls, her other went to his chest.

She tweaked his nipples as she enticed him. "Cyr, you are a wonderful lover. You have given me such pleasure. I truly want to reciprocate, to please you. Come for me, let me feel your magnificent penis empty all your semen deep inside me. Let me drain you, give you as much pleasure as you have given me."

Rebecca's face suddenly filled his. "Cyr! Listen to me!" Though her interjection was urgent as she admonished her pupil, it was also mischievous. She liked playing games and this promised to be a fun one. "You know how hard we've worked, how much I've done myself, to get you where you are, to make you an irresistible force capable of having any woman you choose. Do you want to abandon our training program now? Are you going to cast me and my mentorship aside? No matter what Marla does, DO NOT COME!"

Marla's dulcet, teasing voice countered, "Cyr, my sweet lover, of course you can come! Feel how my vagina is holding you, squeezing you, milking you. Ah... Imagine how fabulous it will feel to let loose... Ah!... to expel that cum burning and boiling inside you. Ah!... let it happen Cyr. Come for... Oh!... Come for me." Marla's voice kept cracking as she rode him relentlessly. Cyr was relieved that she was rounding the bend, heading into the home stretch.

But unfortunately so was he.

Rebecca encouraged, "Cyr, concentrate! You can do it, I know you can! Outlast the bitch; don't let her win." As both women giggled, delighting in the duel, Cyr sensed the the race to see who would make the other come first might be a photo finish. He bit his lip and focused.

**

"You're so sweet, Cyr. Anytime you want another, er, appraisal, just shoot me a text. Here's my number." Marla's voice was girlish, quite coquettish for a 40 year-old. Taking her card and memorizing the number at first glance made Cyr recall the curious end to his tryst with Nurse Sweet. Though fully intending to pursue Monica, he certainly would not have minded more time with the red hot redhead.

However, when he had asked for her number she demurred. When his face fell, Vanessa explained. "Cyr, this was wonderful, more exciting than, well, than anything I've ever done. But you see, I'm engaged, and can't get involved with anyone else now."

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry..."

She silenced him with a kiss, then whispered, "I can't get involved emotionally, but you do know I'll be giving you your treatments from now on, don't you? I'm SO looking forward to it."

The tease in Vanessa's voice then matched Marla's as she left Rebecca's office. "Why don't cha come up and see me sometime?" After a stagy wink, she continued, "Later, loves, bye-bye." While her Mae West was angelic, her final caress of Cyr's bare, throbbing, denied cock as she took her leave was diabolical.

When the door to the office closed and another hand clasped his erection, Cyr obediently responded to Rebecca's summons. "You did very well, babe, holding back despite everything that cagey cougar could muster. You did seem right on the verge that one time, though."

He had truly struggled to maintain control when, during her third orgasm, while Marla's compelling, tight vagina was rippling on him, she played her trump card. She impaled his ass with one wriggling finger and fucked him with it.

He'd called up his last line of defense, and now his abs were screaming at him after being clenched so hard they had knotted, cramping in pain. "Yeah, Rebecca, it was close, but I didn't want to disappoint you."

"Well, I'm proud of you. She was a tigress, intent on eating you up." Rebecca giggled when his penis jumped in her hand. "You seem very aroused, Cyr. How close are you now?"

Cyr checked his status. His urethral bulb was full-to-bursting, his cock was throbbing, his balls were aching, and he twitched every time Rebecca brushed her thumb over his oozing opening. He knew her question was rhetorical, and just stood stock still when she fell to her knees and took him into her mouth.

A wizard with her tongue and lips, in no time Rebecca had Cyr's system manufacturing fresh semen. When it joined the frustrated, seething cum that had been teased to boiling so often already, the huge mass began to creep inexorably up his tubing. Swelling it, ballooning it, stretching it wider than ever before.

Cyr concentrated intently on calming his urethral bulb as the semen surged, and as a last resort, he clenched his bulbospongiosus muscle to keep it from ejecting his semen into Rebecca's mouth. It was a monumental battle, and Cyr felt himself losing, little by little.

As adept as she was at provoking them, Rebecca was even more skilled at denying men's orgasms. She sensed the exact moment when Cyr's last battlement began to topple and tore her mouth from his cock, stopping his ejaculation just before he tipped over the edge.

As Cyr panted and trembled, Rebecca stood, smiled, and whispered, "There you go, darling. Just three more edges and I think we'll be done for the day. Come, lie down for me."

As soon as Cyr's back hit the mattress Rebecca was on him, claiming his cock with her pussy. She was obviously aroused again, and, riding reverse cowgirl, she leaned forward, angling his penis down towards his toes. Rubbing his shaft against her G-spot.

She came quickly, then again, and was building towards a third when Cyr lightly pinched her hip. It was their safe sign when she edged him, and she immediately pulled up and off. Cyr moaned in frustration as his cock sprung free, bobbling in the cool air.

After lightly kissing his lips, Rebecca licked her way down his body, and snickered each time her tongue, running up the length of his penis, made it lurch off his abdomen when she reached the magic spot where the shaft meets the head.

Cyr's mind went numb with the continual ebb and flow of the conflagration raging in his loins, simultaneously wishing for three incompatible ends: for Rebecca to let him come, for her to stop torturing him, and for her to keep it up. Forever.

***

Monica's Apartment

When Cyr rose to one knee so he could drive down into her even harder, Monica's whimpered protest was smothered because her head was buried in the mattress.

She was doubly miffed. First, because he'd slyly maneuvered her into a sexual position -- this was aggressive doggie -- that was not to her liking. Granted, as he'd said, she'd had it her way their first time, but...

Second, she was especially exasperated because, despite her resistance, it was working. Monica was going to come. Cyr was going to make her come. By doing her doggie. The contrast between the massive penis pummeling her pussy and his fingertip caressing her clit so very tenderly was like hot and cold temperature play. Just too effective. The carrot -- his finger -- enticed her to climax; the stick -- his cock -- compelled it.

Given little choice, Monica resigned herself to enjoy the ride. Enjoy being ridden.

That they were vying in the sexual arena was hardly a surprise. They been competitive all evening, whimsically but avidly arguing about the best -- in wine, food, movies, music, books, you name it -- and both had had a wonderful time. It was rare for Cyr to find a woman who challenged him, could compete with him, even best him, and his purposeful tardiness, both in calling to ask her out, then in arriving late to pick her up, had annoyed Monica and added extra zest to their repartee.

As he continued working her over, bringing her ever closer, Cyr's mind flashed back to how he had set all this in motion.

Monica had given him her number when he'd asked at the end of their long, slow, erotic dance at the Mediterranean Club. The result of another push-pull. Cyr had first tweaked her by snubbing her, then engendered a tinge of jealousy when he abandoned the trio and made sure she'd seen his intimate dance with Amy. Then he swept her away on the dance floor.

He'd memorized her number but waited 5 days to call. Following Allan's Seduction Rule VI. A: "Keep her off balance; do the unexpected." Monica, who like Cyr, had felt the very real connection between them, had been cool, obviously annoyed, when he finally did phone.

"Hi, Monica, this is Cyr. We met at the Med last Wednesday. Sorry it's been a while, but there was some business I had to take care of." Fucking Amy to rescue her, basically. Of course, that had been finished 3 days ago...

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to keep you from your IMPORTANT business." Cyr imagined he could actually hear the splashes as the sarcasm dripped from her voice and splattered onto the floor.

He paused, letting the ice thaw a bit. "When I finally had time to breathe, I thought of you first thing, Monica. I'd really like to see you. Would you be free for dinner tomorrow night? I remember that you like Italian food, and I have a reservation at La Dolce for 7." Cyr had reviewed the notes he'd taken after their first encounter and knew Italian was indeed Monica's favorite.

When she didn't answer immediately, he made his voice deeper, sweeter, letting his sincerity -- he really was fascinated by her -- color its timbre, "Please, Monica. I really am sorry I got so busy and I truly want to see you."

The triumvirate of facts -- that he'd remembered her dining preference, La Dolce was the swankiest Italian restaurant in the region, and that he was the most intriguing and attractive man Monica had encountered in like, forever -- had tipped the scales. When he'd insisted that he wanted an old-fashioned date, meaning he was going to pay, it sealed the deal, enough so that she allowed him to pick her up.

She liked his classic BMW A3 and enjoyed the ride with the top down. Which assuaged her irritation at him arriving 15 minutes late. On purpose. Eliciting emotions, even negative ones, forges a connection, and when the negative is reversed by later actions, the connection intensifies. Rule V. I.

Earlier, when Cyr's phone alarm went off, he'd closed the dossier of his next case and hit the shower.

He dressed in the khaki pants with the crisp blue form-fitting silk shirt that highlighted his physique and accented his eyes, topped with the sleek black leather jacket. It was what Rebecca called his "Fuck me now!" outfit. Though he didn't particularly like it, he put on the Rolex. His sex coach always averred that women, often despite themselves, cannot help but be attracted to affluence.

As he dressed, Cyr was surprised to find himself on edge. He couldn't remember the last time he felt nervous, filled with pre-performance jitters before a date. He attributed it to his real attraction and fascination with Monica, and, being quite anxious, he had to force himself to drive slowly in order to arrive sufficiently late.

At La Dolce he claimed their table while Monica went to the Ladies to fix her windblown hair. The roses were beautiful, though he thought the vase could have been more elegant. He was gratified that Monica saw only the flowers. "My, these are gorgeous!"

Cyr smiled, wondering how soon she would notice that none of the other tables had such lavish floral arrays, and how she'd react after dinner when he presented them to her.

Rule I. B: "Be knowledgable, about food, wine, and culture." In Italian Cyr ordered a bottle of Arneis that would compliment the bruschetta with ricotta and roasted tomato, La Dolce's signature appetizer.

He then focused intently on Monica, asking questions about what she did, what she liked. Genuinely interested, he noted every detail, shared every interest, sympathized with each concern. And filled her ears with compliments, surrounding her in an aura of attentive approval. With an undercurrent of sex. All according to the seduction rules.

But, it occurred to him early on, perhaps this seduction was mutual. Cyr loved that Monica had not worn a bra. He'd noted it the second he picked her up and had let her catch his eyes trying to penetrate her silk blouse on several occasions.

She'd blushed the first time. It was an audacious wardrobe choice and she was abashed at her derring-do being so quickly discovered. And intently scrutinized. Though later she just coyly smiled, her nipples, enjoying the attention, stood tall and proud each time she caught him peeking.