Of Being and Becoming

"Oh, Sweetie! You can stay here with me for as long as you want, no matter what you decide to do!" she exclaimed, so taken with him she was. "We can get started in the morning. For now, we should just get some sleep."

"Okay," yawned Mark as he cuddled in with her. The pair fell asleep to the sound of the pouring rain on the window, safe and comfortable in each other's arms.

She awoke the following morning to find that the storm had abated, and sunlight was streaming in her bedroom window. He was fussing and fretting in his sleep. "No! Please don't let them take me away from you! Pease let me stay!" he mumbled.

She slid her arm around him and he awoke with a wild look in his eyes. She curled her arms and cuddled him into her gorgeous chest. "Shh, shh. It's all right. It was just a bad dream," she told him as she rocked him back and forth. At this point, he began to sob into her chest and her heart melted.

"I dreamed that they came and found me and were taking me away from you," he babbled as his tears rolled down his face. "It was terrible," he mentioned in his misery.

She cuddled his head closer into her chest in a soothing embrace. "That's something they'll do over my dead body," she said in a quiet, very serious tone. "Now that I've found you, I'm not letting go," she uttered with a note of finality in her voice.

He glanced up with a bewildered look in his eyes. "You want me?" he asked. "All my life I've been taught that I'm worthless, useless and stupid," he admitted. "You want that?"

It was her turn to sprout tears. "Yes," she said positively, "I do," she finished. "Your parents taught you that, then?" she enquired, although she already knew the answer. She'd developed a vile hatred of the creatures who called themselves his parents. She would have gladly microwaved the pair of them for what they had done to this beautiful creature who now shed tears in her arms. "How could they do that to him?" she thought as she gently kissed the back of his neck.

He came up suddenly, drying the tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands. "I'm sorry to get all upset like this," he apologized. "Sometimes, it's overpowering," he confessed.

She was overwhelmed by the size of the young man's heart. Despite all he had been through, he was trying to apologize to her for events he had no control over. "It's perfectly all right and perfectly natural, Sweetheart. You go ahead and let it out anytime you need to around me. I will never look down on or think less of you. You have been through a lot of grief in your short existence. You deserve someone who can understand you, but above all else, you deserve to have some fun in your life."

He looked up at her with wonder in his eyes as she stroked his hair and smiled her reassurance directly into his calming heart. As he brought his face up, she deduced exactly what he wanted. He wanted a kiss. She didn't need to be psychic to figure that one out. As their lips met, the same electricity that had flowed through him last night began anew in his system. They gripped each other in passionate lip lock as their hands explored the body of the other. He found her soft, sweet snatch right where he had left it and began to explore with his fingers.

She spread her legs and allowed his hand full access to her dripping pussy as she continued to lustily press her lips to his. Soon, he began to shift, kissing his way down her gorgeous chest and over her flat stomach. Suddenly, his tongue was lolling on her pretty, pink clitty and she gasped in pleasure. "He certainly is a fast learner!" she mentally remarked as she felt him putting into practice the lessons he had already learned and honed his new skills. "The most important point to observe about eating pussy is to listen to your partner," she breathlessly informed him. "Everything else stems from that," she finished. Before long, her moans and groans were reverberating around the room as she thoroughly enjoyed his attentions.

He found that he easily, almost instinctively, picked up on her verbal and nonverbal cues like her heartrate, pulse, body movements, and cries of ecstasy. This only served to drive his passion higher as he tasted her delights once again. He delighted in flickering his tongue across her cute, little clitty making her draw a sharp breath before he slid his tongue down her soaking wet slot to slide into her hot love tunnel.

"Darling," she intoned to get his attention. He looked up to see what she wanted. She gazed down on him through glazed eyes. "Cup your fingers like this," she instructed as she showed him her palm up with index and middle fingers up. He copied her hand motions as she continued. "Press your fingers into my pussy," she directed further, "and stroke softly. "Mmm, yeah... just like that," she purred as he dropped his tongue back down to her perfect clitty. Her breathing became ragged as he worked, using the tools she had shown him. "Oh, yeah, Honey! Just a little bit more and I'll... CUM!" she wailed as endorphins and contractions from another orgasm flooded her system.

His cock was hard as a rock when her cries reached a climax, and she began to cum again. She gazed on him with a look of pure enjoyment mixed with a touch of wonder. She pulled his willing form up her body, positioning him between her legs and kissing him deeply. She was amazed that, after so little instruction, he could make her cum that hard just using his mouth and fingers. "The boy's a perfect natural," she thought as a huge smile dawned on her lips.

He touched her pussy lips with his prong and a quiver ran down her back. He reached down, grabbed his prong and slid just the tip up and down in her steaming slot. The heat of her pussy flowed through his dick, exciting him even more. Shifting slightly, he placed the head of his cock just inside her opening, leaned down and passionately slid his tongue between her moist, soft lips once again. With his tongue firmly entrenched in her mouth, he slowly pressed into her humid, steaming twat. Both felt the girth of the young man stretching her wide open and willing pussy. Slowly, he thrust into her as the air rushed out of her lungs.

"For someone with no experience... GOD, are you good!" she gasped as he began to withdraw for another stroke. He smiled as he felt the head of his cock on the edge of her pussy and thrust back in. Soon, she was moaning and squealing as her first vaginal orgasm hit her. The heat and commotion set him off like a bomb deep inside her. She felt him swell suddenly then spill his steaming seed. The action swept her away with him as they clasped each other and came together.

She started his education that day, as promised. "How much do you know about pussy?" she asked.

"Almost nothing, outside what you've shown me," he replied.

"Well then, I think the place to start is anatomy," she said as she chose a book from the vast shelves and set it before him. "I want you to read this and memorize every part of a twat and what it does," she instructed. "A good understanding of the anatomy and how it works is a crucial foundation stone."

With time and reading came understanding. This understanding, coupled with always listening to her body, sped his prowess as a lover. The natural was being honed to a razors edge. She was delighted at his progress, charting it all in that computerlike brain of hers. He had learned not only the pussy parts, but most of the erogenous zones of a woman's body.. Lucy beamed pride for him. She had been taken with him before, but she was smitten now.

One afternoon, he emerged from his studies to see her placing a formal table setting before the chair. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"In this line of work, you may be required to fit into high company at a formal dinner. This is a formal dinner setting. Each piece has a purpose.

At this point, he interrupted her. "That's the sherry glass, that's the champagne flute, that's the water chalice. I'm very well versed in this," he grimaced.

"Why do you understand this?" she questioned with a certain amount of amazement in her voice after a few moments of consideration.

"The cult my parents are part of set them up to believe that they were American royalty. My mother forced me to learn not only the table setting, but the etiquette, eloquence, manners, mannerisms, dances... the whole nine yards."

The only things his parents had left out of his education was wine selection because, according to their sect, imbibing wine was a sin. She taught him how to select a wine and he learned his lessons well. Soon, he was a connoisseur of fine wine.

Dancing was the only other item left off his card. She delighted at the opportunity to teach her new lad something. Setting some music, she began by teaching him the basic waltz movements. After some practice, the pair moved as one as they cavorted about the room. Mark was a quick study and was equally delighted to learn from his lady.

About three months after he had begun his training, she deemed that he was ready for his first job. She came to him holding a folder in her hands and a smile on her face. "I have a contract to offer you," she smiled as she sat down on the couch with him.

"Oh?" he replied with some excitement and interest.

"It's a special one," she smiled as she opened the folder. Inside was a picture of a beautiful blond woman with a diamond tiara in her hair.

"Who is that?" he asked, somewhat taken by the picture.

"Meet Anastasia Nikita Svetlana Tatiana Orlova, Duchess of Oldavia. She's a member of a very old ruling family who runs a small monarchy in the Caucus Mountains," she explained

"What?" he exclaimed. "You want me to go and rub elbows with nobility?" he incredulated with rising panic.

"Shh, shh," she cautioned. "I know you'll do fine with this. That's why I picked you. You're ready for this," she bubbled.

Her confidence in him renewed his interest as he began to look over the dossier. "She's gorgeous," he remarked.

"Isn't she, though," smiled Lucy.

"Athletic and highly educated," he murmured as he read on. "What will we even talk about?" he asked plaintively.

"Just be your normal, charming self," she soothed, "and everything will work out fine."

He looked up into her reassuring eyes. "Well, if you're sure," he said tentatively, "okay."

"Great!" she bubbled. "Your date is next week. In the meantime, we need to go shopping. We need to buy you a tux, have it tailored and then get you some matching shoes."

"A tux? I can barely afford to buy a sandwich! How am I going to be able to afford to buy a tux?" he lamented.

"It's ok, Sweetheart. That's one of the things I buy for you to use while conducting business. I supply and maintain any costuming that you need. The tux and shoes are part of that."

"Okay," he mentioned in a slightly bewildered tone. "You are so good to me, Lucy. I can't thank you enough!" he beamed as he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

The pair cabbed over to The Tuxedo Shop. As they entered, a sparse haired, older man with a cloth tape around his neck bustled in. "Ah, Miss Lucy! So good to see you again!" he said in heavily French accented English as he kissed her on both cheeks, as the French are wont to do.

"So good to see you again, Henri," she smiled as she accepted his affections. "Always good to see you. How are Coraline and the children?"

"Fine, fine, they are fine. Auralee made the basketball team this year and so is duly impressed with herself and Jennifer brought home a straight A report card. We are all so proud," he mentioned with a huge smile.

"Oh, very good!" clapped Lucy. "That's excellent!" she crowed. "Henri, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Mark Densmore."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mister Densmore," said Henri turning to Mark extending his hand and wrinkling his brow. "Is that as in John Densmore of the Doors?" he enquired.

"Um, the two names are spelled the same way," he explained, "but, we are of no relation."

"Ahh," uttered an enlightened Henri. "And what can I do for you?"

"Mark needs a tuxedo," mentioned Lucy, "And he will need it mid next week. Can you do that?"

"But of course, Madame. You always allow enough time for the job to be done," Henri smiled.

"Okay, I'll sit over here while you take special care of my friend Mark then," she decided.

Henri measured Mark, then went to the rack to choose the suit that would soon be tailored. A red tie and matching cumber bund completed the outfit. "It will be ready on time for the outing," he promised as he packaged up the tux and the measurements.

The week flew by in no time, and they picked up his clothing from Henri. The next night, a limo pulled up quietly in front of the building as he and Lucy came down in the elevator. She fixed a small, red carnation to his lapel to complete his ensemble then kissed him just before the elevator doors opened. "Go get 'em, Tiger," she whispered.

He emerged in the lobby the epitome of the rich, young man. As he emerged from the front doors, the chauffer opened the door to admit him to the passenger compartment where the stunning, platinum blond he had seen in the photo was seated. She smiled sweetly as he seated himself. "Hello," she said in her slightly accented and stilted English, "My name is Anastasia Nikita Svetlana Tatiana Orlova, Duchess of Oldavia. But, between you and me, please for to call me Ana," she confided as she put her white gloved hand on his. "Now, is your turn," she smiled looking Mark dead in the eyes.

"Well, I'm Mark Densmore," he stated. "and, I don't have any noble credits to speak of. If you don't mind me saying so, you look absolutely stunning, Ana!"

She laughed and remarked, "I'm beginnink to be likink you veddy much, Mark Densmore!" She rolled the name around in her brain for a moment, "Densmore, Densmore... is like John Densmore of American band, Doors, yes?" she asked.

He was quite impressed by her musical knowledge. "Well, it's more like Charlie Densmore of Peoria," he quipped. She laughed with him, enjoying his sense of humour and relaxing with him as they rode along. "But it's the same spelling." This revelation seemed to enchant her as she put her arms around him and cuddled into his wide chest. "This bodes well for the rest of the evening," he thought as he curled his arm around her shoulders.

The limo stopped and Mikhail, the driver, opened the door for them to get out. Mark got out first and held his arm out for the Duchess, as tradition demanded. The walked through the arched entryway of the five-star restaurant where they were immediately seated at an out of the way table. The waiter took their drink order and promptly returned with the beverages. The meal was served, and the lights dimmed. A brilliant tenor stood up on the small stage and crooned out favorites as they ate.

After the meal, they walked hand in hand to the ballroom where the main event of the evening was just getting underway. The pair stepped through the door and onto the dance floor where they remained swaying in each other's arms for the next few hours.

"Mark Densmore?" she questioned suddenly. "Is gettink stuffy in here, no? Let us for to be takink a walk with the garden, yes?" she asked in the same querying tone.

"Of course," replied Mark with a jovial smile as he crooked his arm for her hand. She tucked both of her delicate hands around burley, farmer strong arm forearm and fell into step with him. They exited the building through the huge double doors that led into an immense courtyard filled with plants of all kinds. The trees, shrubs, and flowers were beautifully lit with tasteful lighting. Plaques adorned the edges of the plots, identifying each plant and its origin.

Suddenly, she grabbed his wrist and headed into one of the thicker displays. "For to be comink with me," she commanded in a lowered voice as he trailed along behind her. They entered the garden plot and were soon lost in the thick vegetation. She turned to him with the moonlight reflected in her demure and gorgeous eyes, put her arms around his neck and gently brushed his lips with her own. The effect was to send an electrical bolt racing down his spine. He really hadn't intended to be as attracted to her as he was, and just her kiss aroused him immensely.

She turned her gorgeous eyes on him when they came up for air. "I have confession for to be makink for you," she said quietly. I don't know how you are to be sayink in English, but in my country, I am for to be called 'nimformanka'."

He stood momentarily confused, trying to put all the pieces together. "Is that a title?" he asked.

She smiled. "No, is girl who for to be likink to be makink sex too much... way too much," she responded with her eyes cast down and a shy smile on her face.

"Nymphomaniac," he finally uttered triumphantly.

"Oh good! You find in English" she smiled and clapped. "Yes, that is. How you for to be sayink again?"

"Nym-pho-ma-ni-ac," he repeated slowly as she repeated after him with a delighted look on her face. Other than sex, languages were her passion and she loved learning new words and phrases in foreign tongues.

"I say because I have for to be watchink you all night and now want for to be makink blow job for you." She turned her dazzling smile on him and he was held spellbound before her.

He was shocked at how forward she was. "What? Here? We could get caught in the act!" he complained.

"Yes!" she replied with enthusiasm in her voice and fire in her eyes, "is excitink, no?" Her hands dropped to his waist and busied themselves undoing the belt and closure of his pants. She tantalized him further by slowly drawing them down his legs. Her fingers found the waistband of the thong he was wearing. Slipping inside, she began to strip them from his waist to reveal his marvelous male member. "Moy Bog!" she gasped as his prong sprang free of his cloth prison. "You are for to be beautiful man, Mark Densmore!" she smiled up at him while taking his prong in her soft, delicate hands and gently began to jerk his stiffening cock.

He groaned softly as she crouched down slipped her lips over the tip of his immense dong and began to bounce up and down in time with her hands. His hands gently fell to her shoulders and his head lolled backwards as he gently rocked his hips in time with her motions.

She stopped, stood up and gently kissed his neck. "I want for to be going somewhere more comfortable with you," she stated with lust lurking in her eyes. "Let us, how you say, 'get out of here'?"

He smiled at her as he began to pull his tux back together after feeling the delights of her wonderful mouth. "Yes, that's just how we say it," he confirmed with a huge smile as he offered her his arm and the pair made their way out of the trees. She reached into her purse, produced a cell phone, pressed one button, and held it to her ear for a few seconds before beginning to speak in Oldavian. The limo was waiting out front of the restaurant when they two emerged after a short stop at the coat check.

"Mikhail is really best of all driver," she grinned after they had entered and cuddled up with each other for the ride to her hotel. Mikhail didn't ask for a destination, he just pulled away from the curb and drove. The young couple in the back seat were no longer paying any attention to anything else except each other. They were lip locked on the limo couch, exploring each other and readying for the event to cum.

Mikhail looked in the rear-view mirror at the romance now blooming in the back of his car, smiled and put up the smoked glass that separated his cabin from theirs to give them some privacy. As she had instructed him on the phone, he took the long way to the hotel to allow more exploration time.

As they came up for air, she looked him in the eyes with a devilish smile as she slipped her panties out from under her dress. "You like for to make taste, yes?" she asked innocently.