I've Always Been a Nurturer...

Well. It wasn't all bad. I did get to feel his balls quiver in my hand as they drove their load out. That was something. But all in all, it was far from the most fulfilling sexual experience of either of our lives.

* * *

So I needed advice. Fortunately, my older sister is a slut.

"Wait. What?" She blinked at me over lunch, my treat. "You need sex advice?"

"Well, 'need' is a strong term," I shrugged; I didn't want her to get a swollen head. She's definitely got me beat on the number of men she'd had, but I was no slouch in that department either. "Just... I'm having some issues. Well, not me." I sipped my iced tea, the realization slowly dawning that talking to Kate might not have been the best idea.

She cocked her head oddly. "Ben? Or are you getting some on the side?"

"Is it really on the side if we're not married?" I grumbled. "But yes. It's Ben."

Her face took on a weird look then, guarded. Almost furtive. "Ben," she sighed. "You know, Mom keeps waiting for you to announce an engagement."

I knew that. "She'll be waiting awhile longer. I'm not marrying him."

Kate nodded, chewing on her edamame. "Is it this? This sex thing? Is this why you don't want to marry him?"

"No." I sighed. "Well. Partly. It's all different sides of the same dice, you know? I just don't think we're compatible." I looked away. "I should know better than to try to date a cat person."

"What's wrong with cats?"

"Just... I think maybe I get along better with dog people." I dug through my salad. "I think they fuck better. I think there's like an alpha-dog thing."

She sat thoughtfully for a moment, and when she spoke she was quiet. "In my vast experience, cat guys fuck just fine, Ella."

"Whatever." I shrugged. "It's just weird in bed. It honestly feels like a high school romance. One of those super-awkward ones." Because it was, of course.

"Are we talking about the same Ben?" She blinked. "The one you've been dating for like a year and a half?" She considered her words again. "He doesn't seem very awkward. It's hard to think of him having fuck-problems, frankly."

"Like you'd know," I sniped, and I got that weird look again. "Anatomically, it's all good. I mean, his dick is... well. It's amazing."

She chewed. "I think it's interesting that you think that."

"What?"

"Well." She seemed to realize she'd said something strange. "Like, why would you even bring that up? It's a weird thing to say. Look, what's the real problem, Ella? The basic problem?"

"The basic problem?" I swallowed. "He cums too early."

"What?" That one really seemed to surprise her. "That's not my... I mean, really? Like, how early?"

"As soon as I touch him, pretty much." I shrugged. A disagreeable-looking woman was eyeing us from the next table, and I gave her a smile. "Lately, I can't even get him in me."

"I see." She arched her eyebrow. "Has this been going on awhile?"

I pondered, thinking about the conversation I'd overheard in the bathroom. Meghan Gordon's birthday. "Last summer. Maybe a little before."

"No shit?" Kate blinked at me and paused a long time. "That's... well. That's a surprise to me."

"Why?"

"No reason," she shrugged glibly. "Maybe he should empty the pipes before you try anything?"

"He's tried that." Twice, I left unsaid. "He has zero problem getting it up. And, again, he's... well. His penis is great. But then? He just shoots first and asks questions later, if that makes sense."

"Well. So, he's probably all worried about it then. Like, that's probably all he thinks about when you're about to get it on."

"Oh, no doubt."

"Right. Think of it this way, Ella: he's obsessed with his own dick."

"I'm obsessed with his dick!" I wailed.

"Not like he is." She was having wine, in precise sips. "He sounds like he's at the point where he's constantly thinking of himself. And not in a bad way, like selfishly: he's just got a complex about his dick. You need to encourage him to have a complex about you."

"Huh."

"Try this. Tell him every time he thinks about cumming, he should just put his mouth on you somewhere." She considered. "Preferably, your vagina."

I chuckled, thinking of the way that mouth had mauled my nipple on his couch. "I'm not sure he's there yet." I caught another odd glance from her. "I mean, Ben's not into eating out," I guessed.

"That's not something I'd noticed," she mused.

"Wait. What?"

"Nothing. Look, focus. Get him to think less about him and more about you. Like, encourage him to take charge." She took on a faraway look. "Hell. If in doubt, just tell him to slap you around. I've found that men who take all the power in the bedroom are usually too busy fucking me up to cum prematurely." She shrugged. "Besides, it's hot."

"What's hot? Getting smacked around?"

"No. Getting owned." She sipped again. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. But, baby steps. Next time, when he's getting close, just have him do something to you." She winked. "Eventually, he'll gain confidence. He'll get over the hump, then he'll fuck you for hours." She turned casually to the disagreeable-looking woman, who now looked shocked. "Look, can you do my sister and I a favor and stop eavesdropping? Or should I start talking about how my backup boyfriend likes to choke me with the beads he's just pulled out of my asshole while he has his friend wear a Joker mask and fuck me missionary?" She winked. "Wanna hear about that?"

Apparently, the disagreeable-looking woman did not want to hear about that.

* * *

Another day, more bathroom duty, another perambulation by Jared Meyer and Mikey Lee. This time, he smiled first. "What's up?" I nodded.

"The usual. Same stuff that's always up." His face shaded the slightest red, and I'm sure mine did worse. Mikey tapped on his phone, oblivious. I let my eyes go a little wider at his flirt.

"My!" I cooed, "so talkative today!" I made sure Mikey still wasn't looking, then glanced down at his jeans. I knew he saw me do it.

"Mike, I'll catch up in a sec," he nodded to his buddy. "I need to check with Ms Norland about my project."

"Huh." Mikey barely even looked at me. "Science?"

"Nah, History. Herrick. I'll catch you." They did a complicated kind of handshake thing as Lee walked off to class, leaving Jared standing there with me. I looked both ways to make sure there was nobody in the halls, then I arched my back to push my boobs out. "Something's up now," he smiled, blushing darker.

"Well. I would hope so." I felt giddy. This was so much fun, and so naughty! I was in a red dress, and I wondered whether I could get away with flashing him my panties, which would have been quite an escalation. Especially in the middle of the school day. I licked my lips. "There's a bathroom right here, if you don't want something to be up anymore," I whispered, and I knew I could take him into the bathroom, lock it, and have him take me over the sink if I wanted. The fantasy flashed straight to my clit: I could totally do it. It could all be done in about forty seconds.

Fuck.

Instead, I just pulled my cardigan over my chest. "Jared. I've been doing some thinking. I know you enjoy... what we do," I began, his face looking suddenly apprehensive; poor guy thought I was kicking him to the curb.

Screw that. I wasn't Whitney fucking Taylor. I was in it to win it. "Yeah?" he said cautiously.

"Well, that joy that you get?" I was speaking very low. There were cameras in every corridor in this building, and the jury had always been out about whether they picked up sound or not. "I think it would be awesome if we could make it last longer, you know? I want to try something new next time, if you want."

His face lit up. "Next time?" He hesitated, searching for confidence and finding it. "Like you said, there's a bathroom right here..."

'Oh my god!" I had to cross my legs suddenly. Fucking clit, throbbing inconveniently... "I was joking. Why would we do that, when you've got a perfectly good house I can drive to?" And a perfectly good boyfriend who believes me when I say I'm coming in on Saturday to help with the Mock Trial team? "If you're free this weekend, I'd love to come by and help with your thesis about Thomas Becket..."

"You can come by." He was smiling now, that warm one he used. I was looking to make it a little more devious, though. Baby steps... "Text me, Ms Norland."

"I sure will, Mr Meyer." I winked as he moved off, then treated him to more cleavage as a parting gift. "Oh. And, um, you know how you usually... prepare for our tutoring sessions? Don't do that."

He did a double-take. "Wait. Don't do that?"

"I want you full." I whispered it, looking around to make sure nobody was around. "It's an experiment."

"Oh." He smiled, the warm one. "I look forward to it, Ms Norland."

Such a beautiful young man!

* * *

"Know what we should do, Jared?" I'd just walked into his house to find him padding around in his socks and a pair of sweatpants. The weather had turned chilly this week.

"What's that, Ms Norland?" He'd lost a lot of his shyness around me, but that only made sense: I've learned that once a man glazes your face, he starts looking at you differently. He gets a little more confident, especially when you keep coming back for more.

"Today, I think we should find a bed." I took a chance, stepping close and tiptoeing up to kiss him on the cheek. It was the first time my lips had touched his face. "And then I think I should try something new with you." I glanced down. "Are you hard, honey?"

"Starting to get there." He wasn't blushing when we talked about his penis anymore, either: all good things.

"Good. I think we should both get naked today, too." I trailed a finger down from his shoulder and gave his bicep a squeeze. "If you don't have any objection." His answer was a pointed glance at his own groin, where his sweatpants were already tenting. "Whoah there, cowboy," I giggled. "I guess you're fine with that too. Why don't you take me to a bed, then I'll tell you what I've got planned."

"Fuck." He almost bounded off into the back hallway, with me smiling in his wake. Already this was going better than that awkward encounter last time, on his couch. That time, I'd been content to let things happen. Which had taught me that Jared and I did better when I had a plan. "My room's kind of a mess, Ms Norland."

"Does it have a bed?"

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"Then I don't really give a shit that it's kind of a mess." He glanced back, smiling, and I realized it might have been the first time he'd heard me swear. "Oh. Sorry. Should I not have used such foul language around a student, Jared?" I was already getting throaty, my pussy twinging. "Does it offend you when I say things like 'shit?'"

"Oh! No. Not really."

"Good," I smiled, "because sometimes, I have a really dirty mouth. You might find that out one day." I took a chance, unable to resist, reaching forward and smacking his butt. "I bet you will find out, actually. But first, we need to make you last a bit longer."

"I want to," he agreed as we passed the bathroom and reached his door. "I really do. This... well, this has always been a problem for me. If that makes sense."

"It does." His room was nowhere near as bad as he'd made out. There was the usual teenage detritus, some trophies and shit, a bookshelf. Clothes in disarray all over the floor. But at least my feet didn't stick to the carpet, and it didn't smell. And, best of all, he had a decent-sized bed. "Sweet room, bro," I laughed, eyeing the mattress. It looked like a full.

It would do.

"Now then." I stepped out of my Uggs, stopped at his desk, and took my earrings off, then my watch. "Here's my idea. You ready to hear it?"

"I'm all ears, Ms Norland." He was adjusting himself already, though he wasn't jacking it or anything. Still, if the past was any indication, that might not matter: twice, he'd cum hands-free. Three times, actually, though that third time I was willing to give him a pass for: he'd been looking at me, on my knees with my lips puckered, about to suck his meat. He perched himself on the desk.

"We're sure your dad's not coming home?" I pressed. "No spreadsheets or anything?"

"Nah. He's on a huge project. A bank downtown, I think."

"Ah." I drove past the sight every morning on my commute. "Good. Then we have time. So, here's my idea to make you last longer." I sat on his bed. "I think you're preoccupied with what's happening in your own body. Is that right?"

"I, like, worry. Every time," he nodded. "Like, I keep promising myself I won't lose control, and I really concentrate.

"I know, honey." I'd worn a flannel over a bra, with matching panties, and my fingers began working casually at the buttons. "I think you're concentrating too much, sometimes. So I want you to try something different today." I popped one button. Two. Three. The baby-blue lace of my bra peeked out.

"Yeah?" His Adam's apple was already bobbing, his sweats fully tented.

"I want you to focus on something else." Four. "Do you know what I want you to focus on, honey?"

"You?"

"Yes, Jared." The burr was back, in both of us. I shrugged my flannel onto his comforter and sat there, back straight, tits on display in that lush bra. "Look at me. Imagine me. Think about how I look, how I taste. What you want to do to me." I reached to my waistband. "Let's take our pants off, honey. How does that sound?"

"Oh my god." He watched, eyes greedy, as I stood and then peeled off my leggings. My thighs are not the thinnest in the world; if he was used to the Alyssa Macleans of the world, mine did not compare. But they were here, now, and hers weren't.

"Look at my legs." I spoke with some urgency, desperate to keep his mind off his penis. He obeyed. "At my panties. At how they ride over my hips." He nodded, eyes wide, standing there in his underwear and a t-shirt. "At how they cover my pussy." I'd trimmed with care for this; I knew he'd be able to see the downy triangle of my pubic hair through the lace. I stood as tall as I could with my hands on my hips, feeling myself grow damp. "Look at how my underwear frames my body. Think about how I chose it just for you."

"Fuck." It was a low, hissing whisper. He took his shirt off.

"Think about me, Jared. Not you. Me." I sat back down. "Think about what was going through my mind as I got dressed this morning. How I knew I was going to be here with you. With my Jared." I looked at his crotch. "Do you feel like you're going to cum, honey?"

"Yes." The answer was hard, flat, immediate.

I remembered Kate's advice. "Then come and put your mouth on me. Somewhere. Wherever you want." I arched back on his mattress, propping myself on my arms, feeling my hair cascade behind me as I stretched my neck. "You pick. Just come taste me." He lunged across the room, curving over me like a predator. I made myself avoid looking down at where his cock stretched his briefs. "Hurry, lover. Put your mouth on me."

He was clearly tentative, but there was no wrong answer here; the moment I felt his lips on my collarbone, over my bra strap, I locked a hand around the back of his head and started talking. "That's it. Taste my skin. Feel my hand. Think of me, honey. Think of my reactions, my pleasure." I felt my breath catch; holy fuck, this was turning me on! I felt strong, powerful, joyful: a week ago, this kid would have already stained his underwear. "Look down while you kiss me; look at my nipples. Look what you're doing to my body."

He did, groaning low. "You're so hot," he murmured.

"You're making me feel so special. Because you're thinking of me." I took his chin in my hand and aimed his eyes at mine. "You're wanting me to feel good. And I do, baby. I feel so good." I was moving toward him already, my lips shining. I'd never kissed this young man, and I needed to. His mouth was warm and eager, leaning into me as if kissing me was all he'd ever wanted to do, and just that easily our lips were sliding against each other, tongues tangling, both of us breathing hopeless moans at each other.

I fell back, boneless, surrendering as he crawled over me on the bed. His body was a lean, feral collection of clean lines and hard muscle, the bed sagging as he climbed on top. His cock, straining hard at his underwear, pressed against my thigh like a warm gun barrel, loaded and pointing, threatening me.

I surged up against him, overjoyed: he hadn't lost control yet. I pulled my mouth back in a wash of spit, his and mine both, and croaked encouragement. "Think of me. Feel my body." I whipped my arms around him and drove my hands insistently into his briefs, feeling at last the hard muscles of his bare ass. "Oh my god, you're beautiful," I whispered at him. "Put your mouth on me if you feel like you're going to cum, Jared," I reminded him, my breath in his ear, and then his lips were on my neck, his tongue gliding behind my collarbone as I pushed his underwear off his body. He was naked on top of me now, and he groaned low and deep as he realized it. "I want to see your cock, baby," I gasped. "I want to see it over me. I want to see it pulsing over my body." I had no idea what I was saying: this was my heart and my clit and my tongue, urging him on.

He pulled up, his face an odd mix of desperation and eagerness and joy and hope, and then he was straightening his arms into a push-up, both of us looking down our squirming bodies. His penis quivered between us, nestled above the blue-lace valley of my thighs, big and gorgeous and ready to spear me. His balls drooped low, grazing my mound. He gave a breathy, indistinct syllable, and I gripped his upper arm, my legs spreading in response to a deep, sensual signal from my libido.

"Think of me," I commanded. "Don't think of anything but me. I'm here for you; you be here for me," and somehow, teeth gritting, he nodded incoherently and dropped his head low to kiss my chest, his lips running down my cleavage, then up the mountain of my right breast with so much more gentleness, so much more feeling than that last time, on the couch. I arched up to him, his hand sweeping my bra cup away like it was nothing, and then I shrieked as his fingers gripped my pale flesh, his lips and tongue lashing at my nipple. "Oh fuck yes!" I cried, my arms tight around his head, and then?

There it was. His cockhead, pressing insistently atop my pussy, a red-hot battering ram driving my panties between my swollen, wet lips, and then suddenly his breath was washing over my tit, his hot thick semen soaking the front of my panties, dousing the expensive lace in the sticky wash of his cum. He groaned five times, deep sexy masculine groans, his cock bursting each time.

My mind caught fire at once, dragged into a deep pool of lust by the feel of his dick at my slit, and I lost it. "Holy fuck!" I whined, twisting, worming my way out from under him: I had one thought, only one, and I acted on it at once. I'd never felt any urge so powerful. I curled my legs up close, pushing my sodden underwear down and whisking them straight off over my socks. Jared slumped onto his elbow beside me, his dick still trembling, the head covered with his spunk.

I lay back, bottomless, my eyes wide and wild as I pulled my wrecked panties up to my mouth and wrapped my lips around the front. The stiff lace flowers embroidered there crumpled under my jaw, but I was already sucking hard, pulling his cum and my juices out of the delicate fabric and onto my desperate tongue. He watched, amazed, as I licked, making little contented sounds at the taste of his cum, still warm from his body. "Oh my god," he marveled, his voice a whisper. "That's so hot, Ms Norland."

"Mmm," I replied, stretching catlike on the bed beside him. My eyes found his. "Glad you like it." My voice was a cracked, husky mess. "We taste so good."