Love Lessons

Oh shit, thought Simon, what do I do now? Theoretically he knew what was expected, but practically? No idea. He was on the verge of sliding his tongue forward and hoping for the best when he felt Claire's tongue brush over his lips. Gratefully, he let her take the lead.

My god, surely he's at least kissed a girl before? Nobody could be that inexperienced at eighteen, Claire thought. But Simon seemed frozen, so she had to take the initiative. Delicately she showed him what she expected. She squirmed, excited to be taking charge for once. She was starting to realise she was going to be the girl he compared all his future girlfriends against. No pressure!

Simon was in heaven. He'd imagined this moment a thousand times, but the reality surpassed all expectations. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his hands shaking as he caressed her perfect boobs, her lips on his, his tongue dancing over hers inside his mouth. He moved his hands round her body, feeling her back, grabbing her ass. As he felt along the torn leg edge of the short shorts, she started to slide towards him down his legs, until her centre pressed against his rock-hard cock.

He broke off the kiss, needing to breathe, and started to kiss across her jaw, down to her neck. He nibbled playfully along her collarbone, smelling her skin.

Claire felt the pulse of his cock beating against her clit. She could feel she'd soaked through the sexy knickers. His lips were on her neck; God how she wanted him to bite her, to claim her; yet she couldn't let him mark her, lest anyone at school notice. Then he was kissing down from her neck, down to her chest, tasting between her cleavage, starting to bury his face in her tits. He scrabbled at the clasp of the bra behind her back, fumbling uselessly at it. "Let me," she breathed, and her boobs slipped from the lace into his waiting hands.

Simon was sure he was forgetting something important, but he didn't care. Breathing, probably. But it didn't seem to matter. He licked across her perfect nipples, kissing across and between her boobs, burying his face between them, feeling her warm soft flesh press against his cheeks. It was the most incredible feeling he'd ever experienced.

Claire could feel his heart rate hitting hundreds of beats a minute, his breathing erratic. She grinded herself against his cock, hornier than she'd felt for a long, long time. She popped his shirt open, hands exploring his chest, teasing his nipples as he licked and suckled on hers.

Then, all too soon, she felt him go stiff; his mouth hung agape, and she watched as his eyes bugged out and his body twitched.

Simon only knew the orgasm was coming once it was too late to do anything about it. Smothering his face in her chest, a place he never wanted to leave, it all became too much. He collapsed back into the chair as his cock twitched and his balls pumped load after load into his boxers.

Claire leant forwards, kissed his forehead as the orgasm subsided and he caught his breath.

"Wow," he managed eventually, perhaps the biggest understatement of his life. "That got a bit out of hand."

"You're not kidding," she said. "Nice though."

"I don't know what to say. Thank you?"

Claire laughed. "You're welcome, I guess." She stood, climbing off his lap.

Simon felt squidgy in his shorts and must have pulled a face. "Do you want to clean up?" Claire asked him. He nodded and headed into her ensuite.

He spent a few minutes mopping himself with a flannel, trying to clear as much of the slime from his dick and out of his pubes as he could. The boxers were a goner; going commando was alien to his nature but he didn't want them against his skin anymore. The denim felt rough against his dick, but he thought he'd be okay.

But when he emerged, he realised he'd made a huge mistake. Claire lay on her stomach across the bed, propping herself up on her elbows so her boobs just rested against the mattress. Her shorts were gone; Simon gawped at the black lace thong that curved across the small of her back only to disappear between the perfect globes of her ass. She kicked her feet in the air, watching him. Fuck, he muttered under his breath.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he said, eyes on stalks, taking in her perfect figure. He watched as she rolled over, sat up, got to her feet, and started to prowl towards him. The lace made a perfect V, highlighting her pierced navel, and acted as an arrow pointing to her most private parts. His mouth was dry, his heart pounding in his throat.

"Bet you've never seen a naked girl before."

"Mmmm. The only woman I've seen nude in real life is my mother."

"Ewww, gross!"

"Oh god no, not like that. It's not like I was spying on her or anything. But she was never prudish. When I was younger, she'd let us in the room when she was having a bath, so she could watch us play. That sort of thing."

"Whatever. I think we both need to wipe that image from our brains." She stroked her breasts, ran her hands down her hourglass waist and hips. "I need you," she said, beckoning him towards her almost naked body. Simon found he couldn't move; he no longer knew how to work his legs.

"I... I can't..."

She dialled down the eroticism a notch, reached for his arm, stroked him.

"You don't want to have sex with me?"

She turned and walked towards the bed. He watched her peachy ass bounce a little as she sashayed across the carpet, as she knelt on the bed and presented that perfect posterior to his lustful gaze. The fabric of the thong over her pussy was so wet it was practically sheer.

You did that to her, his libido proudly declared. Look at her. The bitch is on heat, she's gagging for it. Look how the thong matches the bra; and you know what it means when that happens - she planned this all along! Tear that thing off her and take her rough and hard. It's what she wants, she as much as said so. Look how she's prowling onto the bed, watching you over her shoulder, waiting for you to take her!

But of course, he couldn't. Partly he was too scared to. But mostly this wasn't how he wanted his first time to go. It should be a magical memory - making love, not animalistic fucking.

"Yes. No. I mean... I want to." I've spent years fantasising about this moment. But now it's here, he was freezing with fear, just like he had when she was going to give him that blowjob. It was like Sandy Shores arcade girl, all over again. "But I... I can't. Not like this. It's too much, too soon. I'm not ready. Please don't hate me."

"Oh Simon, you're so sweet. I don't hate you, don't be silly. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

The silence stretched out too long, became awkward. Simon sensed there was something yet left unsaid.

"But...?" he hinted.

She wiggled her ass.

"No, not butt! You've got something to say, please say it."

She sat on the edge of the bed, patted the mattress next to her. "It's not important really." Simon looked at her, knowing that wasn't true, waiting for her to say what was on her mind. "Okay, here it is. I'm so fucking horny. I've not been with anyone, you know, for weeks - not since we started having these sessions. That's a long, long time for me. And we were having an amazing sexy time, really getting into it. And now you've come... but I haven't."

His eyes flicked across her body. She was right. It wasn't fair. "What can I do?"

She smiled, eyes twinkling, and she leaned back against the headboard. "Come and sit beside me," she beckoned. "Now, can you promise me something?"

"Name it, anything."

"I need you to do exactly what I say. Exactly, understood? Trust me, it'll be worth it."

"Okay."

"I'm serious. You might want to do more, go faster, harder, or change things up when we get started. Whatever you do, don't do that. Just follow my lead."

Simon nodded.

"Right. Give me your hand." She propped her feet up on the mattress, legs spread. He looked down at the delicate lace framing the soft pliant void between her thighs. Watched as she took his hand, placed it on her thigh, drew it across her skin and onto the satin. He could feel her centre, hot against his fingers, damp even through the material. She shuddered at his touch; his cock scraped painfully across the inside of his denim shorts as he returned to full hardness.

Something primal inside called to him, demanding he tear that fabric aside and plunge his fingers into her depths. But he remembered her instructions.

"Here," she said, drawing his hand up towards her abdomen, letting his fingers trail across her lips. He could feel her entrance, felt a button pressing against the material. She lay her fingers exactly across his, showed him how to press, how to circle his fingers, when to curl and when to stroke, how to glide over the slippery satin.

He watched his hand under hers for a while, then ran his eyes across her body - up her taut abdomen, across her chest which rose and fell with her heavy breathing, her boobs rocking on her ribcage, nipples hard with excitement. Looked at her face, her eyes closed, her mouth open, as she concentrated on the sensations, the pleasure.

I'm doing that to her, he realised. Sure, she's showing me how, but it's my fingers stroking her clit and her lips. She curled her fingertips, pushing his fingers into the satin, pressing inside her slightly. Circling then tickling her clit.

There was no rush, no time, just pleasure. Just the two of them, in the moment.

"Kiss me," she breathed. Simon leant over, brushed his lips over hers. "No, properly," she demanded, opening her lips to his. Terrified but eager, he slid his tongue forward between her moist lips and began to stroke inside her mouth, as she had to him earlier. And all the time, she was directing his hand over her centre. Mimicking the movement of his tongue with his fingers.

Claire was struggling to think; Simon's fingers were dancing across her pussy, and she sucked on his tongue, daydreaming about him choking her with that fat dick she'd felt through their shorts. And there it was, the orgasm unstoppably approaching. She broke off the kiss, to catch her breath and prepare herself.

"Oh god, oh god, here it comes..." she warned. "Don't stop, don't change, do it just like that, exactly like that," she ordered, as Simon worked his hand over the sodden underwear. Abruptly, her back jerked and her eyes flashed open. "Fuck, fuck, I'm coming! Stop, stop, too much," she said, clasping his hand over her pussy.

Simon felt that strong throb against his palm as her muscles contracted, her face red and her lungs heaving.

"Can you feel that?" she asked him. He nodded. "You did that to me."

"Amazing," he said, starting to withdraw.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Um, you're done, right?"

"Oh Simon, I've only just started." She moved his hands to her hips. "You wanna see what I was doing before you arrived today?"

Simon didn't know how to answer that. She hooked his thumbs through the waistband of her saturated thong. "We won't be needing these," she said. "Get rid of them."

She lifted her ass from the bed as Simon drew his hands over the roundness of her legs, down past her knees and untucked the lace from her ankles. His eyes flashed back up her legs, drawn to the space between. Her pussy was still twitching, her lips totally hairless.

"I shaved it all for you, Simon. Come here and feel how soft I am."

Simon had lost conscious control of his own limbs. Claire spoke, and his body obeyed. He lay back beside her, guided his fingers back to her entrance. He stroked across her bare skin, cock twitching, tongue lolling from his mouth. He'd never felt anything so soft. He saw a trail of moisture dribble from her pussy round into the crack of her ass.

"Look at me," she said. "That's my clit, that's what you were teasing at to make me cum."

"I know anatomy."

"Uh-huh. But nothing beats practical experience," she replied. "Now then. Take your middle two fingers," she said, holding her own hand up for him to see. "Pretend you're bowling; like this," and she curled them slightly. "Slide inside, feel how wet you've made me."

His fingertips reached her entrance; her skin felt so hot. She pushed on the back of his hand, encouraging him. Simon forgot even to breathe as she guided his fingers inside her.

"Slowly, gently," she encouraged him. "Curl your fingers a little more, press against the front of me. Oh yeah, fuck yeah just like that..."

Simon let her guide the pace and angle, her hand holding his wrist. She moaned and begged; he followed her every instruction.

Claire felt his fingers working inside her. So grateful that he didn't presume to know what he was doing. Past boyfriends never treated her this way. They might finger her briefly, mistakenly thinking they were getting her ready, but they were all too intent on their own pleasure, desperate to shove their dicks inside her. The only hand she'd ever come on was her own. But here was Simon - sweet virgin Simon - bringing her inexorably towards a second devastating orgasm. She could feel the pressure building deep inside, that secret pressure she'd never shared with anyone. "Oh please, oh please yes," she moaned.

"Tell me," Simon begged.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me," she said. "It feels so fucking good. Just keep going, like that." Over and over, each stroke bringing her closer. "Suck my tits," she ordered, pulling his head down to her heaving chest. Simon devoured her boobs, licking her nipples, sucking the areolae as his hand worked her over. "Oh Jesus God," she exclaimed as he dragged his teeth over her sensitive nipple. "God yes, bite me, just a bit." Simon took her at her word, trapped her nipple between his front teeth, and was rewarded by her back arching and her shoving her pussy down hard onto his hand.

It wouldn't be long now, she realised. She could feel it rushing towards her, nothing could stop it now. "Watch," she breathed, pushing his face away from her tits, drawing his eyes back to her dripping pussy. "Oh shit here it comes... are you ready for this? Are you Ready? For? This?? Nnnngggaaaaahhhhhhh! Ah! Ah! Ah!!!"

With each Ah, her abdomen twitched, and a jet of fluid shot from her loins and splashed over his hand. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!! I'm coming, coming so fucking hard!!! Make me squirt, you fucker! Aarghhhhh!!!!!"

Simon watched, transfixed, as spurt after spurt of fluid sprayed out of her. He'd seen squirting videos on porn sites, of course, but just assumed it was faked. Turns out it was real after all, if she was horny enough. He wondered if keeping going would hurt her; he knew from experience he couldn't keep touching himself once he'd come. He wasn't sure what to do, so he did the polite thing and asked, "Should I stop?"

"Don't you fucking dare! Harder! Forget what I said before; pound the shit out of me!"

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"You won't. Please, go for it! Use an extra finger to stretch me open! Slam me like you hate me!!!"

Simon got to work, shaping three fingers into a triangle, thrusting his hand in and out of her as fast as he could, feeling her pussy still pulsing from her last orgasm. Oh, I could never hate you, Claire. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Even with your clothes on. But now... he knew he'd never forget this sight, this feeling. He felt proud of the way he was making her feel, wanted it to never end, but wanted to end her at the same time.

"Fucking do it! Think of every time I teased you, bullied you, and take it out on my cunt! Oh please oh please!"

Her urgency, her foul language, called to something primal inside Simon. He sat up, repositioned himself, and jackhammered his fingers into her, slapping her clit with his palm, grabbing her tits with his spare hand. He watched her face, bright red; her breathing ragged, chest heaving, boobs rolling and bouncing.

"Fucking hell, you're gonna make me cum again you bastard!" she screamed. She grabbed her legs, pulled her knees up so they were touching her tits, giving Simon the fullest possible access to finish her off.

"Yeah, come for me, Claire. I want to feel you crush my hand!"

"Shit here it comes, here it fucking comes..."

It started in her legs, her thighs quivering as again she splashed over his hand, soaking the bed. She curled upwards with the force of the contraction, feet back to the mattress, sitting bolt upright, forcing Simon's fist against her convulsing pussy.

"Aargh! Cumming... so... hard..." she shook. Simon felt like his fingers might be broken, but he didn't care. He'd never felt anything like it, and he wanted to remember every second, every sensation.

Slowly, Claire's tremors subsided, and her breath started to return to normal. "Oh, my god. Do you know how many guys have been able to do that to me?"

Simon didn't dare guess. Ten? Fifty?

"Nobody. None. Nada. I just... no words. Come here and kiss me, you're amazing."

Simon's heart leapt. "Nobody? So... does that kind-of make me your first, too?"

Claire smiled. "I guess so," she agreed. He really was something, she realised. He was kind, and he listened. Her pleasure was important to him, more so than his own, perhaps. That was such a turn-on. How can a virgin understand the secret of sex without having had any - that the pleasure is in the giving? She could see herself letting him do things to her that she hadn't let anyone else, simply because she trusted him to stop if she asked. Nothing was more attractive, was sexier, than that kind of trust and honesty.

As they kissed, Simon retrieved his hand - fingers wrinkled like a prune, covered in her scent, sticky sweet. He vowed never to wash that hand again. That night he'd lay in bed, smelling her on his fingers, clamping the hand over his nose as be brought himself to a powerful orgasm. Sucking one of the fingers, tasting her. Wondering if he'd ever get the chance to enjoy that taste directly, fresh from the source.

But right then, Claire wasn't finished. She'd seen the massive boner in Simon's shorts. "Seems I need to re-balance the scales a bit," she told him, reaching for his shorts.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you only came once, and I lost count of mine. And you've seen me naked, but you're still in your shorts. Let me see that fabulous cock of yours. I have some unfinished business with it."

"I..."

"I'm serious, Simon. Nobody turns down one of my blowjobs. I let you get away with it once, but never again. Help me get these off you so I can see what I'm dealing with."

Trembling, he raised his bum off the mattress so she could pull the denim off his waist. His dick was stuck to the material with pre-cum; a bead of it strung out and wrapped over her hand. Simon watched in amazement as she leant over and licked it off. "Yummy," she muttered. "Got any more?"

Nice cock, she thought. Thick, and a good length. Not the biggest she'd had, by any means, but more than she'd expected. Mind you, all she'd had to go on were the bullying comments from their classmates. She should have known better. What they'd said hadn't matched the looks she'd snuck at his package over the weeks, or what she'd felt earlier. So she was happy to confirm he had a great dick. And it not being massive meant that what she was about to do would be all the more enjoyable for her, too.

She knelt between his legs, looking up at him with big puppy eyes. "Just a hint for your future," she told him. "When a sexy, horny girl is kneeling naked in front of you, begging to suck you off, you don't say no."

"Noted," he said; and that was the last intelligible thing he could say for a while, as she locked her lips around the tip of his throbbing cock and started to work her magic. Simon laid back, not wanting to trust his back muscles to keep him upright, and surrendered to the feeling of her tongue exploring his hardness. He was so revved up already that he knew this wouldn't take long. In the porn he'd watched, he'd seen this go on for ages, as a precursor to having full sex. Now it was happening to him, he couldn't see how that was at all possible. This wasn't going to last more than a minute, the pleasure was so extreme, and surely nothing could feel more amazing than this.