Matty Scores a Hat-trick

This story is an edit and re-name of 'Bowling Matty Over', published 16 ^th February in Mature category. It alludes to characters in my story 'Autumn Flowers', also in Mature category.

'I'm sorry Matty, I forgot that you had said that you wanted to ask me something. Do you still need to ask me, or has the question been answered?'

Matthew, or Matty, was driving me home from work one day, as he'd often done. I'm Jenny, and I sometimes work at the garden where Matty is employed.

We'd been talking about courses at the local further education college or university that specialised in all subjects relating to environmental science. I was interested in getting more qualified, and he was telling me about his own studies.

'No, only you can answer it,'... pause, 'It's difficult to talk about,' ... another pause and he was gripping the steering wheel unnecessarily hard and chewing his bottom lip. 'The thing is I'm 19, and I'm still a virgin.'

He looked relieved to have got that off his chest.

'Well that's not so unusual is it? You're not exactly on the shelf yet!' I tried to sound reassuring.

'No, of course not, but I just don't seem to get on with girls in a way that will let the relationship develop. I don't even get to first base.'

'So what are you asking me?' I was intrigued, but a bit concerned as to what was coming, although I thought I could guess.

'Do you know anything about cricket?' I nodded, surprised by this; it seemed a massive non-sequitur. 'Well, if you're trying to teach a player how to bat, an experienced player might start by bowling underarms at them.' I burst out laughing.

'So you'd like me to bowl a few sexual underarms at you?'

By this time we'd reached the end of my road and pulled up. I put an arm round a very pink Matty, who wouldn't look at me. 'Matthew I've got to admire your nerve. I can't understand why you haven't conquered female flesh somewhere along the line, but if you think I can help yes, I could probably bowl you a few underarms. I think there's enough room in our back garden, but you've got to play a straight bat, and you've got to retire when I say you're out.' I was having difficulty keeping a straight face, his face was so pink and earnest. But I mustn't mock.

'I didn't mean....' He stopped as he realised I was teasing. 'Will you really?'

'I'll have a go. Come round to my house around half past seven; and please walk. I don't want the neighbours starting a chain of gossip about the merry widow.'

So that was how I came to be bowling underarms to dear Matty, teaching him about birds and bees in the best possible way - by practical demonstration.

*

I let Matty quietly in the front door, and hung his coat up, then took him straight up to the back bedroom. On another occasion I might have poured us a drink in the front room where I'd left the lights on, but I didn't want to give him the opportunity for cold feet, bearing in mind his past.

'You really are a very attractive young man,' I said to him as we stood facing each other beyond the end of the bed. 'You mustn't think yourself as anything but an equal to any of your potential girlfriends. But equally, if you start picking holes and thinking she's in some way inferior, then call it off. Above all never feel desperate - if you start feeling that way you'd better come and see Aunty Jenny! Now, put your arms round me; don't try to get too close or squeeze. Quite slowly, move your head to kiss me on both cheeks and the forehead. Tell me what you think of my eyes.' He looked carefully.

'They are nice and clean,' he said very seriously. I stopped myself giggling - with great difficulty.

'Yes dear, but I was really hoping to hear something a bit more romantic and complimentary. What colour are they?' He looked again very closely.

'I think they are a sort of grey-brown,' my suitor informed me.

'I was thinking of something along the lines of "You have beautiful big brown eyes" said in a sort of dreamy way, not as if you were reading it off a cheap birthday card.' He tried it, and it certainly was an improvement.

'Now I want you to start moving your hands gently up and down my back. This is stroking not rubbing: you're not drying a small child who's just come out of the bath; think of it as stroking a cat or other animal that has soft, silky fur. Go down no further than the very top of my buttocks, which are here.' I took his hand and placed it on the coccyx. 'You can go up as far as you like, but don't mess her hair up - yet.'

At this point I began to realise I'd taken on a mammoth task, but he followed instructions, and I was quite enjoying having my back rubbed. In fact I wouldn't have minded if it went on longer, but I thought he might get a bit impatient; nineteen-year-olds with but a single thought in mind, were not the most patient creatures. I moved on.

'Now I want you to pull us together. If you are winning your partner will come easily.' I gave Matty a gentle return hug.

'Now hover your lips close in front of hers. With a bit of luck your lips will come together. Lower your hands now and spread them over the buttocks, then try to move the fabric of the skirt gently up and down, so that you are stroking again, using the skirt as you might a soft glove. If the bum is clad in tight trousers or jeans use your fingernails to scratch it. By this time hopefully you'll be able to gently slide your tongue a tiny way through her lips, and then let her take charge. Curiously, some people never get used to French kissing even if they're happy to fuck, so don't force an entry.

I stopped talking as we joined mouths and I let him come a little way in with his tongue before I took over and got a bit more vigorous. We had a rewarding kiss; he'd taken the trouble to use a mild mouthwash, and his vigorous response took me back nearly forty years, when I was learning the game as an excited teenager. I broke away and told him he was a lovely kisser: it was good, and I'd enjoyed it.

'Now we start the undressing, and I suggest that you start by taking your top off and bearing your chest - chest beating unnecessary though.' As I suspected his torso was quite delicious: broad shoulders, deep chest, pronounced musculature, good tan and a covering of very fine fair hair. It was a long time since I was as near to such a sight, and I was close to drooling. I couldn't resist putting a hand on his chest and stroking pecs and their covering. I also tried a gentle tweak of the nipples and a squeeze of a bum cheek.

'Next my top please.' I'd put on a button-up blouse, and as the house was warm, nothing but a bra beneath. He got a bit of a shock, I think, when he saw the extent of breast displayed by the uplift bra. 'I'll turn round this time, but you'll have to learn to unfasten it from the front.' It seemed to come off very easily. Chuck it on the chair and take your trousers off. Leave your underpants or boxers on, but remember to take off your socks.' Easy instructions soon followed. Now I was getting involved as more than just a mentor. I turned my back on Matty again and invited him to slide his hands down inside my knickers, which he did, but then wanted further instructions. 'Hook your thumbs over the tops, pull your hands round to the side, and slide the knickers down to the floor.' I bent over rather flagrantly to pick them up, still back to him. I moved backwards, got his hands on my breasts and gave him a lesson in nip-the-nipple and breast kneading. When I'd got him going there - and I now realised what sensitive hands he had, oh yesss! - I could forage down the front of his boxers. As I had hoped and anticipated what I found was at least six inches long and a good width, very straight, and I doubt if it could have been harder. I had great pleasure in taking its full details.

'How are you feeling Matty?' I asked, although it was a rhetorical question really, as it seems he was largely speechless but for a few murmuring groans.

My hands slid round under the boxer fabric to feel his lovely buns. As I squeezed and lifted them he put a hand down his front and adjusted himself. I am not a torment: my brothers would never have let me get away with it, so I eased the shorts off his hips and slid them to the ground, taking care to manipulate his adorable cock to avoid any hang-up.

If it was always like this I thought I'd really relish being a teacher - so rewarding! That naughty thought was enough to get the gear oil (as a former mechanic boyfriend called it) flowing, and I smiled to myself that I would now be able to fulfil my responsibilities as an instructress, although my level of anticipation was not very becoming for a mature teacher.

'I think you could turn round now Matty. You might like to fondle my breasts and perhaps make some sort of appreciative comment.' This might be interesting.

He turned and stood looking for a very long time; in the end I took his hands and put them where I thought they should be, and he finally grasped the boobs in a way that suggested respectful exploration - or maybe adoration. My nipples were attentive, with a slightly indecent prominence.

'I haven't seen any like this before, so I can't compare, but I think they look delicious, and I'd like to put one in my mouth...please.'

'You're welcome, carry on.'

He chose my left boob, and ever so gently popped it into his mouth.

'Think of it as a particularly sweet and juicy orange. You've got to suck the juice and use your tongue to stop it running down your chin. It doesn't matter if you make slurpy noises - in fact it can be quite sexy.'

I have to say that he followed instructions beautifully and boy, was I enjoying telling my stud to do exactly what I wanted! Perhaps I'd missed a vocation as a dominatrice! Anyway, he had his fill of the left boob and moved to the other side. He'd really got the hang of this now, and Peter had proved to me that I could orgasm just from this sort of attention. I didn't want to do that now, so I took hold of his spare hand and led him to the bed, told him to lie down, and went round the other side. On the way I stopped to fiddle with the curtains, shamelessly displaying my posterior assets, and then I climbed onto the bed, making sure that nothing was hidden when I opened my legs to crawl up beside him.

'Lay on your back, use your left hand to take hold of your splendid cock and raise it so it's pointing straight at the ceiling. Now give me your right hand (the side I was lying).' I'd thought a lot about this bit, because I knew that young men often had a problem with the appearance of the vulva, when perhaps the only sight they'd had of it was a front view with legs more or less closed, giving it the appearance of a miniature bum. I figured it might be better to start with finger exploration.

I brought his hand down between my legs - the gap between them was just enough to allow his hand in to feel the labia majora.

'Using your three larger fingers feel the slit between what are called the labia majora or larger lips. If I open my legs a bit further, and lift my knees, you can push the middle of those three fingers downwards. It feels all soft, squishy and wet. That's because having a handsome naked young man beside me is making me aroused. If you push down further you may find the opening to the vagina, the promised land of young men like you.

Now get yourself down on your knees between my legs facing me, and look carefully at what you've just been feeling. Using both hands I want you to pull back the flesh as if you were opening a pair of curtains, and lick up each side of the opening that you've made; you can keep doing this, pushing your tongue deeper and deeper into the cleft. When you get to the top, where the curtains are still joined, please be very vigorous with your licking. You should feel a small lump somewhere near the middle. You've probably heard of the clitoris, and that's what you're licking. Some women can only experience an orgasm when the clitoris is stimulated. Now that you've done a bit of exploring down there you should be able to find the vaginal opening with your fingers. Carefully slide two fingers inside and feel around a bit. We'll come back another time to the inner geography.'

If this boy hired out his tongue and fingers he'd make a fortune, and my self-control was at its limit. I thought that, for both of us, it was now time for the main course. I knew that I should manage my expectations - first times were not renowned for marathon performances. His cock had maintained its rigidity and was oozing his entry permit.

'You can try coming inside me now Matty; I'll help you find the way in.' I took hold of his cock and guided it home. It slid in beautifully. Contrary to expectation he didn't explode on entry, just lifted himself onto his elbows and leant to kiss me. I took his tongue into my mouth and sucked it in as far I could, letting out a muffled cry as he began to work his way into my cunt: in, out, left, right, up, down - a search-and-rescue dog couldn't have worked harder or with more purpose. I let myself climax: one of those quiet, melty times when you lose consciousness of skin, flesh and bones and are absorbed into one lake of sensation. He came soon after. His cry was one of surprise.

He burst into tears and buried his face in my shoulder. My maternal instinct caused a flood of tenderness, and I squeezed him hard. 'Well done,' I murmured into his ear, 'as long as you don't forget that you're doing this as much for your partner as for yourself, you'll make a wonderful lover. I hope you felt it lived up to expectation?'

'Thank you Jenny. I can't put my feelings into words: it was not like anything I've felt or experienced before, so no comparisons.' He paused a moment, then 'You are beautiful, and I love you.'

'Hey, steady on old chap! I happen to be 35 years older than you - almost old enough to be your granny. Save these feelings for someone you could share a life with; someone nearer your own age. I know that's being a spoilsport, but it was never going to be more than a few underarm deliveries, if you recall.'

I probably sounded very schoolmistressy, but I couldn't let this get out of hand.

'Yes, I'm sorry,' (pause) 'Can I have another go?'

I laughed, thinking it was safer to treat it lightly. 'No you can't. You've just hit a six and you'll have to be satisfied with that. You can't treat me like a fairground ride. You can open your innings again soon.' No-one can mix a metaphor like me!

We got up, cleaned ourselves as best we could without a shower, and dressed. I took him by the hand and led him downstairs and towards the front door.

'Give me a cuddle before you go. I'll see you here again in a week's time, if you like,' I told him as I stroked his hair out of his eyes and gave him a maternal kiss on the cheek.

'Oh yes please! Do I have to wait that long?'

'I'm afraid so; remember you aren't the only batsman needing batting practice,' I hoped he'd get the oblique reference to Peter.

With that he left, a bit rue faced. I felt relieved that I hadn't succumbed: I could have happily lain there with him all night, but it would not have been good for either of us. I had to remember that I was trying to set him up for a more fulfilling life with his own generation, not traduce him into a thoroughly inappropriate long-term liaison with me.

Peter and I had discussed the question of exclusivity of our relationship, and we'd agreed that there would be no secrecy, but that otherwise we did not want or need to exclude the possibilities of other relationships. I think that it was him being generous to me, because I don't think he had any intention to start anything else: I was quite enough.

I thought I ought to tell him. But then I thought it might be best to tell him when it was all over. In the end it seemed best to maintain openness. I explained how Matty had asked me to help him by bowling a few 'underarms' to improve his batting, which to date had been a series of ducks (zero scores). He laughed and said he thought that was pretty cheeky of him. 'If he had the nerve to ask you that, I can't understand why he had difficulty scoring with someone his own age.' My thinking entirely.

'However, unless he's a bloody good actor, I think he's genuine. He really didn't know where he was going,' I said.

'Needed some very slow bowling you mean?' Peter had a broad grin on his face and we both started giggling.

'Anyway, I've agreed to give him two more lessons,' I confessed.

'I think he's a very lucky boy. So what do you get out of it, as the one who wanted to break out? I hope you enjoyed it.' Peter put his arms round me as he asked the question, and looked me straight in the eye.

'I'm not ashamed to admit that I did. It was so unlike anything I've ever experienced before, and I enjoyed his fantastic, youthful body, and his curiosity and wonderment.

'Well I think it's all good. But you must promise that it won't go beyond the third time.' Peter still had his arms round me, and I looked him in the eye as I told him I promised no more than three.

'I am alive to the potential dangers,' I assured him, 'and I won't let you lose out on the deal - if you see what I mean!'

'Fair shares for all, you mean?'

'Of course!'

*

For Matty's second lesson I thought I should make him work a bit harder. In other words I'd decided to be thoroughly selfish. It would be a good lesson for him though.

'Come in Matty, good to see you. I hope you're fit and well.'

'Never better Mrs. M. I've really looked forward to this evening.'

'I hope you've had some pleasant times with yourself since we last met?'

He went a bit pink, and that answered my question.

'Come on, no need to be embarrassed. We all do it. I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't had a few nice wanks on the strength of last week's game.'

'You mean you do it as well?'

'Of course I do. Now come on, you've got work to do this evening.' I led him upstairs. 'We're going to undress. You start.'

He took off his shirt and tee-shirt, and then started to unbutton my blouse.

'I'd appreciate a bit of a cuddle and a kiss before you start stripping me.'

'I'm sorry.'

Once we'd got that sorted out and my enthusiastic lover had control of his impatience I explained to him that he was tasked with ensuring that I had at least two orgasms before he had one of his own. His facial expression was a priceless mixture of concern and excitement as we went on removing each other's clothes.

We were now naked, and his enthusiasm was expressing itself in the way that the bodies of youthful men rise to the occasion. I confess that I was much taken with the instrument of his expression, and I gently pushed him onto the bed so that I could climb over him and take it into my mouth. I had my pussy over his mouth and my buttocks shamelessly on show, displaying my meticulously prepared third aperture. I wondered if Matty would take an interest - no matter, must leave it to him.

I restricted what I was doing with my mouth on his cock: I didn't want to induce an explosion. Remember I had charged him with giving me two orgasms before he shot his load, and it wouldn't be fair to do more than gentle cat-licking to let him know I cared.

I very soon got the message that he was enjoying a meal of my vulva: I could hear the sounds of vigorous lapping, and I could feel the delicious results.

'I'm really enjoying this Matty. Oh yes, that's perfect, please...more...yes!' He'd moved from the labia to my clit and discovered how he could flutter his tongue over it with satisfying results. A few more moans and 'yes please: more, and harder' from his tutor confirmed a four-star performance.

A few moments later I enjoyed my first moment of satisfaction - a brief but lovely release; then, to my surprise, I felt a finger slide into my cunt, followed by another, and the two of them, acting in perfect harmony, did some really useful exploration. I tried to respond by making noises that might help Matty recognise when he was doing good work, and when he had strayed off course. I think this worked quite well - for me anyway.