Sex Trainer for Hire Pt. 08

However, I didn't share that information with them -- or the guys at the lunch table. That was not on the table for dissemination according to the good doctor and her mistress!

I made it through the afternoon classes, although I didn't remember much of what they were about. I had spent the time pondering what it would be like to lay naked with some of the 'best' girls in those classes. My thoughts even wandered to Brenda, the cute girl at the bus stop. My afternoon daydream, in fact, was of her reaching down between the two of us on her bed and guiding me inside of her. In my dazed scenario, she let out a wonderful passionate moan as Thor side all the way inside her. In fact, she was the last thought on my mind when the last period bell rang. Damn that surprised me that the day had already finished, so quickly it seemed.

My locker was standing room only for about fifteen minutes as the lunch crowd regrouped for a chance to see the photo that I shared with Walrus at lunchtime. Hell, I indulged them a little and showed them a couple of the other photos of Teresa Anne playing with herself that she sexted me that first night. It was a damn noisy roar -- until old lady Smith opened her classroom door and shooed us out to the bus stop for creating such a ruckus. She had no idea what she squelched, but it was probably a good thing -- I may have been tempted to share more than I should have!

+++++++

Bus Ride Home Conversation

©️Copyright by dmallord, 2021, USA. All rights reserved.

Published Exclusively on Literotica.com

Fate and the sex gods were with me as I found an empty seat next to Brenda. "Mind if I sit with you?" I asked.

She looked up in surprise to see who was asking before answering. "Sure, Jimmy. Okay," she smiled.

Something in Teresa Anne' coaching kicked in, I guess. I would normally have passed her by and gone to the back to sit and chat with a couple of the guys on the bus. Today, was different. This morning's bus stop conversation with Brenda seemed to be successful. My confidence level was up -- bolstered by a week of ego building sex with two women and my mother probably helped pump a little air into my balloon as well -- not to mention my cock.

Brenda was still looking at my face when I sat down. Her soft smile seemed to reflect a cherub-like countenance. I couldn't help but feel a similar smile spreading across my own face to match hers. She seemed to have that effect on most people I had noticed at school when they met -- whether it was a small group or large, she always seemed to be welcomed into the group and fit in, so at ease with them. Quite unlike my tendency to shy away and avoid that much social contact with my peers -- except for the lunch crowd.

"So, did you ace those two tests: chemistry and classic literature?" I asked watching those sparkling emerald eyes.

Teresa Anne was keen on making eye contact -- 'that's very important James,' she had said. So, I applied that nugget of knowledge and did my best to focus on her eyes as though my life depended upon it.

"I did okay," Brenda replied.

"Okay as in just two A's and not two A+'s as usual, huh?" I queried her teasingly.

Her response was a friendly smirk, "Well just one A+. The chemistry test was only an A, Mr. Smarty Pants." She joked at my teasing.

Her eyebrows rose a bit as she added, "Seems someone in the first period class who doesn't even take an interest in chemistry also got an 'A' along with Nerdy Andy, who always gets an A+."

I was surprised she knew there were two 'A' grades in the first period. How did she know that?

"Me. But, how did you know that?" I asked, curiously.

"Andy ranted about it at lunch, today. He was practically beside himself that you got an 'A.' Must have carried on about it for ten minutes before the table got after him for complaining about you."

"So, Jimmy, what caused your sudden interest in chemistry?"

I could see this was going to be a conundrum. How do you tell a girl the truth -- that your interest isn't in chemistry, but the learning process that produced it was certainly at the forefront of you motivation for learning? It was that inventive ABC game that Dr. Fukhert created and we played until I mastered the periodic elements names and symbols. The sex mixed in those rewards was incredible!

"Well, my mother sort of pushed me into it," I fudged my answer, "by hiring a tutor. It turns out that she moved into the house across the street by coincidence. Guess it was fate that the snow storm gave me time to study with her."

I left out all the non-pertinent details of the six days of sexual bliss that the learning entailed with Teresa Anne, Dr. Fukhert and my mother. I felt a bit guilty that I didn't come clean about those details, but it wasn't like she needed to know any of them. Unless.... Maybe she had a link to the dissertation studies that Teresa Anne was beginning to set up! Now, that was a thought!

The sexpert had said she and Dr. Fukhert would train me to edit those tapes. Wouldn't that be wild if Brenda was one of those tapes I had to edit! Damn. That had a quickening effect on my dick as that wicked thought crossed my mind. I had to drag my book bag across my lap to keep Thor from rearing his damn hard head and Brenda from seeing his reaction to my thoughts on editing video of her naked and...

"Jimmy! Are you lost? Time to get off Mr. Chemistry Whiz!" Brenda chuckled as she stood up and headed for the bus door.

Keeping my bookbag in front of me, I followed, clearing some errant sexual thoughts as the cold air outside immediately hit me. Thor, too, sensed the frosty air and recoiled at the attack on his manhood and scurried back down to his normal size again.

"See you tomorrow, Brenda!" I called out.

Turning, seemingly in surprise, she responded, "It was nice -- talking with you today, Jimmy!"

+++++

Alone on the sidewalk, the few steps toward home allowed a moment's reflection. It was as though Brenda was walking hand in hand by my side. I felt the warmth of her fingers entwined with mine. I felt her arm brushing against my coat as we strolled homeward. And just as quickly, I arrived at the gate somewhat startled into awareness that she was not actually standing next to me.

That moment also became a Robert Frost's proverbial 'The Road Not Taken' moment that I came to as I paused at the front gate. Go in, and greet Mom with the news of my 'A' on the chemistry test. Or take the less traveled path across the street and let Teresa Anne know about the successful mission of distributing her business cards. Home, I would be assured of an hour's reward from Mom. Thor would appreciate that -- after all he was just iced down from his lusty urge for Brenda's sweet lips opening and receiving his head inside her warm caressing mouth.

Crossing the street to greet Teresa Anne could be as deliciously received; perhaps by the sexpert and her pet, the good doctor. I was about to flip a coin -- when Brenda called from behind me.

"Here! I believe this calling card belongs to you!" Her voice was razor sharp.

Her tone startled me. I spun around, coming face to face with the dictionary definition of anger and Brenda's face doing a fine imitation of it. I looked at the wrinkled card she held out. I took it from her hand and gave it a cursory glance. Instantly, I recognized it was the last of Teresa Anne's business cards that must have fallen out of my pocket at the bus stop.

Theresa Ann's Consulting Services

'Sexual Training Expert'

By Appointment Only

The reverse side, I recalled vividly questioning the unknown terms a week ago. Today, I had no such problems comprehending those.

Board Certified Sexologist

Tantric Sex Certified

Phallic and Conjugal Fealty Training

Allosexual Determinate Assessment -- Other 'Sexpert' Services

"Thank you," I replied. I knew she was pissed. Knew too, that she was thinking what an asshole I must be for carrying around a sexpert's card. I did my best imitation of innocence.

Nonchalantly I remarked, "Thanks! It's our new neighbor's business practice. She and Dr. Fukhert just moved in before the snow storm," I added as matter of fact. It came out, surprisingly calm under the circumstances.

"You're telling me these two are real doctors -- not some -- sex scheme for guys to... well you know what!"

"Sort of, yes. Dr. Fukhert is a medical doctor with a PhD and treats people, men, and women. Teresa Anne is clinically licensed as well but isn't a medical doctor yet. She's still working on her studies at the university. That's why she works with Dr. Fukhert. She asked me to help with her dissertation studies."

As I spoke, her stern angry mood softened. I guess it was my tone and frankness about their business that allayed some of her harshness at her discovering the dropped card.

"You probably don't even know what a dissertation is, Jimmy!" she scolded still expressing some disbelief in my story.

I could see she was trying to act 'grown up' about the two women dealing with clinical sex issues. Acting as though she was completely at ease with understanding sexual relationships at all.

"Correct." I answered her question about the definition of a dissertation.

"Until a week ago, you were right. But I do now! How do you think I got that 'A' in chemistry? I've done some studying with them and I kind of like the idea of helping out a college student do research."

I just didn't elaborate for Brenda's benefit on what that research was.

I added the bit about getting an 'A" in chemistry to bolster my statement about actual study as the major element in my story -- not fucking both -- or my putting Thor into every orifice of my mother last week.

"You're helping with research on... sex?" she asked as her eyebrows rose.

I could tell she attempting to connect the dots between the business card and my statement about helping with that research. Brenda was an astute student. Far brighter than I am! I guess my thoughts that she wouldn't notice the sex angle in reply was -- very misguided on my part!

I had lied to her. Then added the greatest of lies that I have ever had to create on the fly to date!

"Well, not helping out just yet. They are still getting the data parameters, research design, and review of the literature components first before they need my help." I barely recalled the two of them discussing some of these as I had my head -- or my dick - busy between a pair of legs. That I could recall even this scant amount of the project's details, surprised the shit out of me!

Brenda processed what I said rather quickly. The snarky attitude she had carried at finding the business card at the bus stop and carrying it to my front door seemed to dissipate quite a bit. I watched as her lips pursed, that frequent sign of some deep thought given to someone's statement. Her eyes were studying my face; trying to determine some truth or perhaps some mental validation that she could accept. It was just a brief struggle, before she gave up trying to grapple with such a complex task.

"Maybe," she remarked softly, "one day you could explain some of that stuff on the back of their business card, then? I... well I know what phallus means, but not the other terms."

She was looking down at that point in her conversation -- avoiding eye contact. I knew that look so well. I even owned the patent on it. It was my hallmark response to speaking with girls about anything. And sex surely was among them. Certainly, sex was on her mind; she just couldn't express herself about it -- just like me, at first with Teresa Anne and Dr. Fukhert.

Like Robert Frost, I was at fork in the woods. This was the longest conversation I'd ever had with a girl in my life -- all of it filled with lies. The gravity of it left me struggling to determine which pathway I should take thought the forest of lies.

Should I just say, thanks again for the card and let her walk home or -- perhaps invite her inside and met my mom?

In the conversational lull, I asked, "Would you like to come in?"

"I -- well I guess I could come in for a few minutes. We could go over the chem chapter for tomorrow, now that you seem to be Andy's main competition in first period. That would keep him a bit flustered and take some of his uppity attitude down a notch, right?" she grinned.

'Yeah, right!' I thought, as I pushed the front door open and called out, "Mom, we have company!"

I didn't get an answer as I dropped my backpack on the kitchen table. instead, there was a note on the table, 'Gone across the street to see Teresa Anne, James. Brownies on the table are for you. Coffee is ready, too! Be back at 6:00. Love Mom.'

"Just my luck. Mom really talks about you all the time. She's going to regret not being here to meet you!"

I handed the note to Brenda and she quickly scanned the info.

"She calls you James?" she chuckled, "What do you mean about talks about me all the time?" As she stood by the table, backpack in hand.

"It's a transitional thing. I've grown up a bit. That 'Jimmy' title has been pushed in the closet and I go by 'James' now. It's an ongoing transition in life, I suppose." I answered.

Brenda nodded as she studied my response, "James, seems to fit your new persona. Certainly, I can see a change today from a week ago when you barely spoke to a girl, James Herbert."

"And about your mom talking about me all the time?"

"Mom thinks you are kind of cute. Well, more than cute. I know that the two of you haven't met, but she sees you at the bus stop in the mornings. You know moms, they tend to want to push people together, you get that too, I suppose?" I answered with a smile as I got out an extra plate.

"Coffee or hot chocolate?" I asked as Brenda sat down at the table, eyeing the brownies.

"Chocolate would be nice. I haven't acquired a taste for coffee. Mom says coffee is for adults," she added with a bit of innocence in her voice.

"And, yeah, I get that motherly nudging to push me toward 'that someone special' from my mom, too!"

While nuking some hot chocolate in the microwave, I listened as Brenda chattered about her mom's nudges. Then we settled in at the table across from one another. Eating brownies, and drinking my muddy waters coffee, I watched Brenda's sweet lips sipping down her hot chocolate between delicate nibbles of a brownie.

I was lost in her emerald eyes and beguiling smile, the silence didn't both either of us it seemed. She had shed her coat. The sweater she wore gracefully caressed the outlines of her breasts. They stood out so prominently - more than a mouth full of luscious fruit, I guested. I wondered if she would mind my sampling them, just to compare them to the three pairs of tits with which I was already acquainted.

"We're alone, Brenda, my mom won't be back for another hour-and-a-half," I said pointing to the business card laying on the table next to her. She looked down to where my hand indicated. I was thinking about her request about my explaining the terms on the card she didn't know.

"Yeah. Well. Maybe," she stammered.

She was avoiding eye contact as shrug of her shoulders seemed to considering retracting her previous request for those definitions.

"Let's start with Allosexual," I pushed, "There's no one else here but you and I, so as adults I think you can handle a frank discussion -- just a discussion between two adults, right? It's just doctor level stuff; you are okay with frank discussions on that level, right?"

Her face flushed a light shade of pink. I knew where I wanted to take this, but I wasn't sure how to get there. So, I couched the discussion as two adults covering an adult level topic. At least that was where I was hoping to go. I had researched the terms the first night I got home after Mistress Teresa Anne took my virginity -- or I screwed her to the wall you could say. It was hard to get my head rapped around the terminology!

"Brenda, allosexual refers to how people feel sexually attracted to others. The scientific researchers created the term to override the distinctions between being heterosexual and gay for example. Those terms; gay, homosexual, queer -- etcetera are pejorative terms for the most part. Allosexual is inclusive of all those grey shades of sexual proclivities. Allosexual people feel both romantic and sexual attraction to someone, generally meaning that they want to be in a relationship and perform sexual acts with them."

"Dr. Fukhert and Teresa Anne have tests that help people sort out their feeling and help identify where in the spectrum of romance and sexual proclivities people fall. That's their allosexual determination level."

"See? That's not so embarrassing to discuss, is it?" I asked Brenda.

Her face seemed frozen.

"Brenda?"

"Oh!" she visibly swallowed, "No! That -- that was very informative, James!"

I smiled. Her stammer seemed to mirror the way I responded in speaking with girls.

"Did you know that sex seems to lessen the amount of hormones your body releases in response to stress? And research actually suggests an active sex life can make you happier and healthier?"

"No, James, I didn't know that and I guess - people do want to be happier and healthy -especially in these times with the virus stuff." Her voice seemed to struggle to get the words out.

"Well, how about science research that says, people who have sex once a month or less get heart disease more often than those who have it twice a week or so?"

"Then," she wiggled a bit in her chair and murmured with a bit of wonder, "I guess Mom and Dad should be pretty heart-healthy!"

I smiled at that too! Seems Brenda kept up with her parent's bedtime exercises. It sounded like her reply indicated her parents were beyond twice a week. My own parents seemed like twice a day; every day as regular as clocks!

"Research," I continued, "also shows regular sex is linked to improved memory, especially if you're between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five!"

[I changed the ages for this factoid as it applies to older people, but I had a plan to use it to sway Brenda, later.]

"Really! Are you sure, James?" her eyes lit up at that last gold nugget I produced.

"Absolutely, in fact the more sex you have the better your memory gets. It expands your ability to recall and analyze information. I can show you, later, where I found that research item!"

"That must be how nerdy Andy got so smart!" she joked, as a soft smile crossed her lips.

Her left hand had made a small sexual masturbation motion to illustrate how Andy most have gotten so smart -- he certainly didn't have a girlfriend -- perhaps he had some help from his mom. I should have given him Teresa Anne's business card, too!

Now Brenda's hand gesture looked promising from where I sat! She wasn't as prudish as I had thought!

"Without sex, you'll miss the hormones that promote restful sleep, like prolactin and oxytocin. You know women, like you, get an estrogen boost that helps even more when they have regular sex?"

"I need extra estrogen?" She responded somewhat dazed with the deluge of crap I was spooning her, just to stir her emotions; her thoughts about the needs for sex as a benefit for her well-being.

"Yes! Brenda, weekly sex also boosts your immune system compared to those who have it less often. Part of the reason is that it raises levels of a germ-fighting substance called immunoglobulin A." I did recall reading about that sextoid tidbit of information!

I watched Brenda's response to my knowledge dump. Her breathing was deepening. I could tell by the more frequent rising of her breasts underneath that sweater. I'm guessing it was also stirring some sensations between her legs. I watched her shoulders rock a bit as that left hand strayed beneath the table. I smiled at that. Probably resting between her crotch and her jean's zipper. I pictured it that way, pressing downward trying to stimulate that moist spot in her panties.