Liking Paula

Liking Paula

Disclaimer: All sexually-active characters in this work of fiction are aged 18 or over.

Paula was a friend of my mother's. We'd moved in to the street a few doors down from her and her husband Phil, a technician at the local Army base. Looking back, she was quite something - late 20s/early 30s, with long, straight honey-blonde hair, a trim figure with not over-large breasts and long, slender legs. I was what you call a slow developer; girls were just other people, and she was just another adult, although one whom I found it pleasurable to be around even as an awkward early teenager. She always made me feel welcome, and never spoke down to me - even encouraging me to use her first name, never Mrs. Baker, which would have been considered more socially acceptable.

By the time a few years had passed, we knew each other quite well as she often popped in to see my mother - my dad worked as a cruise ship steward, and was away for more than half the year. Mum valued the company, and her and Paula often spent the evening cackling away over the exotic cocktails that Paula introduced Mum to. I was in my last year of school by now, an only child just past 18, and was beginning to see Paula in a different light. I'd caught snippets of their late-evening conversations, and it appeared that Phil and Paula had something of an adventurous life, both outside and inside the bedroom (although most of this went completely over my head). They were utterly devoted to each other, but there were hints now and again that they were not by any means completely monogamous, and that this was fine by both of them. They'd both seen a lot more of the world than we had, as Phil had been posted to numerous foreign Army bases during his time in the service, and they had apparently married quite young.

I wasn't anything special to look at; maybe five feet ten inches, a little bit tubby but not excessively so, and I couldn't see past the end of my own arm without my glasses, so they were ever-present. I wasn't big on sports, being clumsy and awkward. I preferred libraries to gyms and sports fields, and didn't really do socialising. I spoke to people as I needed to, and not for pleasure. Paula, however, was different; again, she spoke to me as an equal, and she would listen to me prattle on about my interests with an air of fascination. I was something of a teenage geek, interested in computers, science and technology, and fantasy novels. Paula didn't read much, due to mild dyslexia. As Phil had an early home computer, something I could never have afforded, I was regularly invited round to play games on it and use it to see if we could help Paula with her reading skills, something I took as a solemn duty and indeed, I believe to this day we did exactly that.

It was during one of these sessions that things took an interesting turn. My mother had asked me if I could go round to Paula's after dinner one night, as she needed my help with some recipes she wanted to learn. I had no problem with this, and knocked on Paula's door shortly afterward. She opened the door wearing her customary cooking clothes, jeans and a baggy knitted jumper with a somewhat stained apron over the top.

"Hi, Daniel, come in," she said. "Come through to the kitchen, you can help me with tomorrow's dinner for Phil." I followed without hesitation. I noticed how her jeans highlighted the soft curves of her bottom, but immediately put that out of mind as it wasn't appropriate, was it?

She was making something with pasta that I hadn't seen or heard of before, maybe Italian or Greek - I don't remember the specifics now. I asked her what help she needed, and she said just with the general instructions - it was quite complicated and she couldn't make sense of it all. I was happy with this, and we set to work together.

Paula was drinking a glass of the same red wine which went into the dish. She offered me a glass, and I accepted, feeling quite privileged. It was a rich, full-bodied wine; I knew less about wine then than I do now, which is to say very little, but I knew I liked it, and it didn't take long before I'd emptied the glass, which she promptly re-filled.

"How's school?" she asked. "You're not far off your exams, are you? What subjects are you taking?"

"Fine," I replied. "I'm doing Physics and Chemistry, as well as English and Maths. I like the sciences, I get good results but I'm not as good at the other two, they're boring so I don't feel like trying as hard as I know I should."

"Not Biology, then? That was my favourite."

"No, I did that a few years ago but dropped it to do Physics."

"That's a shame." She paused. "So what about Human Biology? You know about girls and boys, I take it?"

"Oh, we did that when I was 12," I replied. "That was compulsory, except for the kids from religious families. There were videos, very bad animations and some fairly dull mechanical explanations."

"So what did they tell you?"

"Well, you know, when a man and a woman love each other..." I felt a bit awkward and didn't understand why she was asking.

She took a big mouthful of wine. So did I; it was starting to have its effect on me. I found myself a bit more confident than usual, and I felt all warm on the inside.

"You know that's not actually necessary, don't you? Love? It's nice, and when you have it there's nothing better, but you only really need to like the other person. Not even that, if I'm honest, but you have to start somewhere."

"I didn't know that, but it sort of makes sense. Animals don't love like we do, do they?" I offered. She nodded, and drank some more wine. She gestured for me to do the same, and I did, although sparingly.

"Is there a girl at school you like? Maybe one who likes you?" she asked.

"Not really. Maybe. Yes - there's one, Gwen, but - she's different from the rest. They don't seem to look at me like a normal person. I don't join in with their nonsense, maybe that's why."

Paula put her wine down and looked at me for a moment. "So have you seen a girl naked?" Of course I had - on paper. Everyone knew the school pornography supplier who'd been in the year above mine until he was kicked out. Thanks to him, most of the boys were at least passing familiar with basic female anatomy.

"Yes, but not really. Just in nudie mags." Paula laughed. "Is that what they're calling them now?" She shook her head, her amber tresses re-arranging themselves over her slender shoulders in new and interesting ways. "Maybe, maybe tonight you'll get a treat. Stay here until I shout, then come and find me." With that, and a wicked giggle, she took off her apron and went upstairs.

I suddenly felt very alone. Alone, and nervous. A feeling, at once strange and familiar, grew at the lowest point of my torso. What was going to happen? Did she have some better magazines or books to show me? Surely that was all she meant, wasn't it? I heard movement above me, then I heard her call my name. "Yes!" I half-shouted, and tentatively went up the stairs, when I heard her call me again, more quietly this time. I followed the sound of her voice into what turned out to be her and Phil's bedroom. Plainly decorated, nothing extravagant, opening the door fully revealed a bigger-than-double bed in the middle and a simple white wardrobe either side. Looking back at me from beneath a blue patterned duvet was Paula, belly down but propped up on her arms in the centre of the bed, her clothing neatly folded on a chair across the room.

"First, the rules," she announced. "You don't get to touch without invitation, although you can ask. Do you understand? If you can't follow my rules in my house, we can't be friends any more, and that has to be it."

I nodded, swallowing nervously. I felt my penis start to stiffen. Nature hadn't been kind to me there, but at least it wouldn't show much.

"Say it," she ordered. "This is important, and I have to know you mean it."

"I understand," I croaked.

"Good. Now pull the duvet down, just to my waist." I slowly did as she said.

She was beautifully proportioned. The line of her spine, undulating from neck to waist, was a sight to behold, and the unblemished skin, evenly tanned without any white lines, was invitingly smooth to the eye. She closed her eyes, and we both were silent. I was uncertain, but had to ask:

"Can I touch you? Do you mind if I touch your back, please, Paula?"

"Of course, Daniel. You ask so politely, your mother did a good job with you." She laughed, before adding, quietly: "Now it's my turn."

My hand trembled as I reached out to put it on one shoulder, and gently ran it across to the other one. From there I slowly pulled it down to the small of her back, feeling everything under the skin, the ribs, the muscles, the tendons.

"Mmmmmmm," she purred. "You have good hands, maybe we should teach you proper massage techniques one day? I'd never let you out again though, so maybe not," she added with a small, rippling laugh. "Pull the duvet down further - you can pull it right off if you want, it's warm enough in here."

I gently removed the duvet completely from her body. Paula worked hard to achieve her shape, and was proud of it; now I saw why. I had a naked woman in front of me, from head to toe, and she was glorious. Her tan covered all of her, nothing appeared to have been missed by the rays of the sun. She said I should continue to feel my way around, and I was happy to oblige. Her bottom was smooth, soft yet firm to the touch and magnificent. I stood and ran my hands over and around her cheeks for - I don't know how long, but may have been several minutes. I didn't go close to her anus, although clean, pink and puckered, as that felt... icky to me. I followed the line down the sides of her long legs, and back up again to the soft, round pillows of her beautiful bottom. My arousal remained strong and began to throb.

She seemed to sense my rising tension, and asked me to replace the duvet, to cover her up to her waist. I pulled it back over her, and stepped back from the bed at her gentle instruction. She carefully rolled herself over, sat back against her pillows and slowly ran her delicate fingers around her well-rounded, pert breasts. She was a soft, even tan all over, with no white tan lines. Almost perfect circles of a darker hued and textured skin surrounded her nipples, which stood proud.

She smiled. "You like them?" she asked me, knowing I was never going to say no. "You can touch them, but don't pinch or squeeze. Be gentle." I reached out my arm, and brushed the curve of the underside of her right breast with my fingertips. The smoothness and warmth of her skin sent a shiver down my spine, which ended up in my genitals. My jeans were feeling somewhat restrictive, and I instinctively reached to stroke myself through the material. "Try to leave that alone," said Paula. "Cup your hand and lift my breast with it, just a little." I followed her instruction, and felt the weight in my hand. She put her head back and closed her eyes, the look on her face one I hadn't seen before. She let out a long but gentle breath, then opened her eyes and turned to look at me.

"You're doing well. We're not done yet, though. You can pull the duvet away." I withdrew my hand from her breast while my other hand squeezed between my legs. I was a stranger to neither arousal nor orgasm, but had only ever experienced them alone so far, and it felt both wonderful and strange. Now I was becoming more excited. I grunted my affirmation and took hold of the duvet and pulled, and Paula was again revealed from top to toe. I saw evidence of honey-blonde hair, but her sitting position on the bed with her legs together showed me little else.

"This is the bit that men think is the most important. What do you think, Daniel? Is it?"

"I - I don't know, Paula," I stammered. "I like all of you."

"Good answer, but you haven't seen all of me yet".

She leaned back, and slowly spread her long, slim legs on the bed into a wide v. Now I could see properly. I knew about pubic hair, of course, and she'd obviously shaved most of hers, leaving only a small, inverted triangle pointing towards the clean, unblemished line, like a cut in flesh-toned clay, hinting darkly at the pinkness within.

Paula spoke again. "This time, there's no touching. You look, that's all. You'll see everything I've got, what every woman has in her own way. Yes?"

"Yes," I murmured, with some disappointment. Hell, what I'd experienced already had to be enough, didn't it? At my age? She could probably get into trouble for this.

"Good boy," she said. "Alright, just a little more then." She put her hands between her legs and leant back further, parting her labia as she did so. The glistening wonder within was then fully exposed, her clitoris, labia minora and vaginal opening all on show. Paula took some time to explain to me what each was and, in terms of sex at least, what they did. She knew her topic well, it was abundantly clear.

"Have you enjoyed this?" she asked me.

"Absolutely, Paula," I replied. "I couldn't have imagined before what this would be like, and I know so much now. Thank you, thank you so very much."

"You're welcome, Daniel, you've been a pleasure. Now I think we're done, would you go back to the kitchen and we'll continue the cookery? I hope you don't mind."

"N-No problem," I stammered, and turned to leave, with a clear look of disappointment on my face. Paula laughed, a clear sound of innocent teasing and joy. "Stop - come back," she replied, and I hesitated. "There's one thing left to finish, isn't there, you poor boy? Come here and sit on the bed with me."

I did as she said, awkwardly.

"I put you through all of that, and your balls must be bursting if they haven't already. Let me fix that for you," she said as she unfastened my jeans. "It's only going to be by hand, but it'll be a treat for you." I stood up to allow her to pull my jeans and pants free of my aching genitals, which she briefly inspected. "Not the biggest then - but big enough. Sit back down and let me get a towel."

I sat back on the bed while she got a hand towel from the bathroom, still naked. She put it underneath me as I lifted myself up again, then sat beside me with one arm around my shoulders. She slid her free hand underneath my balls, gently fondling them for a minute, watching the drop of pre-cum form on the tip of my penis. She then wrapped her hand around my shaft, slowly moving her fingers and gauging how best to proceed from my reactions. I breathed in sharply as the sensations in my penis, now surging deep inside my groin, grew and grew again. She started stroking my shaft, occasionally flicking her thumb across the super-sensitive area beneath the head. It was barely more than a minute before I started moaning, and she was able to pull the towel over me just in time as my engorged head burst with teenage lust, spraying my cum as I called her name over and over, almost crying with the pleasure and release. Paula held me as I came, then continued holding me in her arms as I just sat against her with my head on her shoulder, taking in what had just happened and the intense feelings I was experiencing. I also noticed a smell; a strong, musky odour, not unpleasant, that had begun to permeate the room while she was pleasuring me. I didn't know what it was, where it came from, but I knew somehow it was her; it was Paula, and it was for me.

Once things had settled, and I felt ready, I fastened myself up and went back to the kitchen at Paula's suggestion. She re-dressed herself and followed me downstairs. We completed the dish, not mentioning a word of what had happened between us. We talked about food, we talked about my schoolwork, we talked about my mum's hobbies. Then, when it was time for me to go home, she kissed me, once, just a peck on the lips, and said "I like you. Remember that." As I walked out of the door, she said "You know, you don't have to tell your mother anything about this," to which I replied "I know". What I couldn't hear, of course, is that as Paula closed her door, she whispered "oh, she knows".

My next few visits to Paula's were far more prosaic. We never mentioned the evening, or any matters of a sexual nature. I helped her with the cooking and her reading, she would listen to me talk about school, about my family, about any random nonsense. It was as if it had never happened - except it had, and couldn't be made to have un-happened. Neither of us was ashamed, but we had to be able to carry on with life normally, and that was how we did it.

A couple of months later, we'd had an unexpected visit from relatives who lived quite some way away. While they were with us, the weather turned and my Mum decided they couldn't go back in bad weather. Although we had a spare bed for the adults, there wasn't anywhere for my teenage cousin Sarah, and as we couldn't sleep in the same bed, I'd have to sleep somewhere else. Luckily Paula had been round to see Mum, and she said I could stay at hers - she had a spare bed, and Phil was away with his unit anyway. I'd be fine, wouldn't I? I made a show at "reluctantly" agreeing, and packed a few things to take over.

I walked round to Paula's, and knocked on the door. "Just come in, Dan," she shouted. I pushed the door and let myself in. "Lock it behind you," she called, so I did and went on into the living room. Paula was wearing a big fluffy dressing gown and slippers, as I understood she often did at home. She was again drinking a glass of red wine, and handed me one as I sat down to watch some TV with her.

"How's things?" she asked. I replied tersely, "Just fine." I wasn't happy about being turfed out of my own bed for someone I'd seen twice in my life, although I appreciated the logic of it.

"Poor baby," she said, sarcastically. "Maybe I should leave you alone if you're going to be like that."

"No, sorry Paula. I didn't mean it like that. It's just... you know. It's always me who has to give something up. Or it feels that way, maybe I'm being unfair."

"Maybe you are, although at your age I'm sure I would have felt similarly. Never mind, you've got a bed here tonight and we can keep each other company for now."

"Yes, that's true. Thanks for putting me up, Paula. I appreciate it and so does Mum."

"No problem. Is there anything you want to watch on TV?"

"Not really. I don't watch much anyway."

"Do you mind if we watch something of my choice then?" said Paula.

"Hey, it's your house, go ahead."

Paula stood up and went to her bookshelf, which also included a dozen or so VHS videotapes. She took one from the shelf and went to put it in her player.

"You might find this one a bit... hot," she said and pressed play.

Once the picture resolved and the lines disappeared, a young German couple were shown having quite animated and obviously real sex in a haybarn, with English subtitles (these were barely necessary, to be fair). I sat silently with my eyes wide open watching various forms of penetration, oral sex and multiple partners, while Paula watched... me. I occasionally looked at her, and she just smiled, warmly.

After maybe an hour, the tape ended. Pauline took the tape out of the machine without saying anything, then brought me a glass of water. I took it and downed it quickly.

"What did you think?" she asked, after a few seconds had passed.

"I... don't know. Do people really do that? Doesn't some of it hurt?"

She thought. "Not really, not like that. And it didn't last time." This last comment went over my head completely.

I looked at her. Her dressing gown had shifted; she had slouchies on underneath, a long T-shirt and striped PJ pants. The T-shirt was low-cut, though, and her cleavage was visible.

"I think... it was good. I had a hard-on. Still have."