The Education of Lana Owens

"What are the special circumstances?" I asked.

Betty looked at me, searching my eyes. "Can I really trust you?"

"Yes," I said, without missing a beat.

"Stop all your whispering, you two," my Mom said, coming over to us on the loveseat. "I'm glad you're getting on so well, but it's not polite, you know. Besides, Dad has run out of small talk." Dad had been talking with George, leaving Mom and Martha to entertain Mr. Slime, I mean, Mr. Stein.

Mom had stopped the momentum of my conversation with Betty. I was not going to learn what the 'special circumstances' were, but if they grossed out someone like Big Boobs Betty, then they must be bad. I have an active imagination, and they couldn't be as bad as my imagination, I thought to myself. The imagination is always worse than reality, right? Right?

I made sure Mr. Stein was seated at dinner next to Big Boobs Betty. George was on her other side, and I was on the other side of George, with Mom, Martha, and Dad rounding out the table. I had been counting on George falling for me, and not for him to come with Big Boobs Betty! I was simply crushed. I was sure that I was the girl Betty was speaking about, but who really knows? My last chance of a date for Helen's blowout party had just vanished, and I had to maintain a smile. I should have received combat pay.

After dinner we adjourned to the sitting room.

"Is Mr. Stein here for you?" Betty asked me, whispering in spite of Mom's admonition. "He's kind of dishy."

"You think?" I was shocked. Mr. Stein? Really? I was still grossed out from when he felt me up when I was eighteen, a long, seven years earlier.

"Well, yeah. It's obvious. He's got a thing for you, too. Surely you've noticed?" she said.

"No, he's just always been around. Isn't he kind of geriatric?" I said.

"Oh, come on, Lana. You call 34 geriatric? My date George is 31, and I'm only 22. How old are you?" Betty asked.

"I'm 25. I didn't realize Mr. Stein was that young. I met him many years ago, and I guess I just always thought of him as old," I said, now embarrassed. I realized he had started coming over to our home when I was nine, and he was eighteen, and probably he was a student at the local college. At least he had waited to molest me until I myself was eighteen!

**

Mr. Stein had watched me grow up, get the curves girls get at around age twelve, then no doubt watched my breasts grow, and grow, and grow, as my Mom kept having to buy me larger and larger bras. He was there the time my period surprised me and I got blood on the couch. He had seen it all. Finally, when I started dating at age fifteen, sometimes he was there when a boy came to pick me up, and he was still there when the boy dropped me off back. One time I had come home without a bra, nor even panties. My father had gone to bed, thank goodness, but my Mom was still up, talking to, yes, Mr. Stein. He saw me walk in, flustered and disheveled, my boobs probably bouncing all over the place, and I ran upstairs, possibly exposing my bare tush to both my Mom and Mr. Stein. Yes, my skirt was that short. It was high school, you remember how it is in high school, don't you?

It was the very next visit, just after my eighteenth birthday, when Mr. Stein had molested me.

**

"I get it. Well, he's a stud. I'll bet he's great in bed, too," Betty said.

I looked over at Mr. Stein, whose first name is David, with new eyes. Actually, he was in fact kind of handsome. I had never noticed. If only he hadn't molested me when I was a young, impressionable eighteen! True, a few boys had beaten him to the punch, but it was totally different when done by a mature man, and in the presence of my Mom and also -- especially -- of my Dad! The balls of the man! Maybe that's why it was so hot? God, it had been hot. So hot. We're talking volcano hot.

After dinner, we all adjourned to the living room. George and Betty sat together on the love seat. I sat on the couch, and no surprise, Mr. Stein sat next to me. Martha Silvers was on the other side of me, and Mom and Dad took the armchairs they always use. Dad served us all more booze, and we broke into several discussions. George and Betty were lost in each other's eyes, which made me sick to my stomach, and Martha and Mom got into an animated discussion, while Dad listened in, and Mr. Stein was silent.

It happened. For the second time in my life, and seven years since the first time, Mr. Stein's hand went to my thigh, taking advantage of the short skirt I had been wearing with the original intent of seducing George. It occurred to me, rather late in the game I should say, that I was really thoroughly dressed to seduce, and since George was with Big Boobs Betty, Mr. Stein must have thought I had dressed to seduce him! Oh, shit.

So, there was Mr. Stein's hand, on my holdup stocking covering most of my thigh. Of course, the nature of holdups being what it is, there's some naked flesh between the top of the holdups and my panties. To get to that tract of intimate inner thigh flesh, Mr. Stein's hand would have to slip under my skirt.

My skirt was short. Usually, when a skirt is short, it falls to around mid-thigh, significantly above the knee, and can get even shorter when a girl sits down. My skirt was seriously shorter than mid-thigh. Indeed, standing, it barely covered the tops of my holdup stockings. I had to be careful or I'd flash my panties with any false movement. I had worn the skirt in the hope of seducing George, of course. I mean, boobs are nice, but men really like what's between a girl's legs, right?

Once Mr. Stein's hand slipped under my skirt, he only had less than an inch to go before finding the sensitive bare flesh of my upper thighs. I wasn't worried, though: I knew he would never do that in this crowded setting, right in front of my parents, who had always been so nice to him, not to mention Martha Silvers, George, and Betty all being right there, too. Right?

To forestall the wandering hand, I struck up a conversation with Mr. Stein. It turned out he was a nice guy, interesting, and even gregarious. I decided I liked him. I did notice his hand climbing up my thigh as we talked, and I noticed that Betty was the only person who could actually see him molesting me. For the second time in my life, I felt powerless to stop the hand.

The angles were such that nobody else had a view. Bizarrely, this actually changed things for me. I got turned on at how kinky it was that Mr. Stein was molesting me in the presence of my parents, especially my Dad, but also Martha Silvers, Big Boobs Betty, and (also especially) my original object of desire, George.

I was furious at George for coming with another woman, especially a woman as pretty and sexy as Big Boobs Betty. At the same time, I was immensely sad. Which of the two emotions made me behave the way I did, I can't say. All I knew was that I wanted to, and so there. So, fucking there!

I think Mr. Stein, whom I had started calling David (at his request) for the first time in my life, was surprised that I ignored his wandering hand. I was acting as though nothing was happening. I was actually perversely glad his hand was on my thigh again. I was looking forward to another good fingering. Once every seven years? It seemed Biblical, somehow. I was smiling and gabbing with him as his hand made relentless progress, until it reached my panties. His hand paused, but again, I did nothing.

David pushed his luck, as I thought he would, and he began fondling my slit, right through my panties. For some reason, just as I had been when I was the age of eighteen, I felt psychologically unable to stop David's hand. To be honest, I'm not sure I even wanted to stop his hand. It wasn't his hand, per se, it was the outrageousness of him attempting to molest me in my own parents' home, with them both present and in the same room, and in front of Martha Silvers, George, and Big Boobs Betty, to boot! I didn't realize it at the time, but I loved the taboo of the situation.

Again, I did nothing, ignoring what was going on beneath my skirt. Betty caught my eye for a second, and she gave me a huge smile. I winked back at her. George looked uncomfortable. I suspected he knew something was going on, but he didn't like that he didn't know exactly what was going on.

I was pleased that David's hands had just as much talent as I remembered they did. I had worn skimpy, red, lace panties to seduce George, but that was a lost cause, and now I was seducing David. His fingers went under my panties, and he fondled my labia directly. I gave David a big smile, and I wished we could have kissed, but of course we couldn't, not there, not in front of everyone.

How weird is that? Yeah, David can finger me under my skirt, that's just fine, but we can't kiss?

I looked at Big Boobs Betty. She had a strange expression on her face. She had whispered to George and now he was watching my molestation, too. I realized if I had harbored any fantasies about reclaiming George, him seeing me getting molested must have destroyed them with a vengeance. George was now permanently gone to me, I thought to myself, as I gasped when David, somewhat expertly it seemed to me, found my g spot.

Next, I looked at David. His head was turned, and he was speaking with Martha, while he slowly drove me out of my freaking mind. I was getting highly aroused. My breathing was changing, which is a sure sign of upcoming embarrassment, unless I could get a grip on myself!

Meanwhile, I was fascinated by Betty and George, who seemed to be, both of them, fascinated in a way kind of like when you see a horrific traffic accident and you can't look away. I could not figure out what was going on with those two. Betty looked ecstatic, and George looked truly strange.

Epiphany: I figured it out! My gaze happened to glance at George's pants. Really -- it was unintentional! He had a huge boner. Maybe that explained Betty's delight, since she had complained about George not being able to get hard unless...and then Betty had become all mysterious. However, it most certainly did not explain George's expression.

Oh, yes, I remember now. One of the men who dated me, a long time ago, who was it? Oh yes, he was a certain Eric Shaw, and he once had a similar expression, when he got aroused after seeing some woman accidentally reveal body parts any normal woman would want to retain under cover. I had asked him about it, and he said he was a voyeur. His dream was to watch another man pleasuring a woman. Hmmm.

**

Lunch with Betty the next day was surprisingly pleasant, until the end, that is. Betty brought it up. "David, or Mr. Stein to you, really seems to know what turns you on," she said.

"Are you nuts? Fingering me in front of five people, two of whom were my parents? Nobody wants that," I replied, in high dudgeon, although like a good Protestant I didn't raise my voice. (I know, I'm Jewish; I was just behaving like a good Protestant.)

"Excuse me, Lana, but it was obvious to me that you were turned on the moment David put his hand on your thigh, and that you wanted his hand to crawl up to your pussy and finger you, while I watched, and later, George watched, too. It turned you on all the more that both your parents were there and that other woman, too," 3B said.

"Martha. Martha Silvers is her name," I said.

"Uh...that's not the point, Lana. The point is, I have to say, that you welcomed the context in which David enjoyed your pussy," Betty said. "You also seemed to like, pure and simple, the way he enjoyed your pussy. I could have sworn you even climaxed."

"I did climax," I mumbled, trying to be incoherent.

I have to say, I was shocked speechless by Betty just saying it, putting it all out there in common English. "Personally, I think David did it precisely because he seemed to know it turned you on. He is either psychic, and I'm not ruling that out, or he's seen you do something that made him think you would welcome his hand like that," Betty finished.

I almost did a faceplant in the diner where we were lunching. Instead, my face fell into my hands.

"Want to tell me about it?" Betty said gently. The big boobed bimbo, in fact, was perceptive, and more important, she was a sweetheart of a woman.

"He fingered me in the same room, and yes, with my parents both home, seven years ago. I'd never been so aroused, before or since, until last night, and last night my arousal was through the roof," I said. That time, Martha Silvers had not been there, but rather a college girl, a senior I think, named Miriam Cohen. I had thought she was really pretty, as well as more age appropriate for Mr. Stein, and clearly interested in him, and yet, he chose me to molest. At the time I was shocked, outraged, and thrilled.

"Seven years ago? How old were you?" Betty asked.

"Eighteen plus a week," I said.

"I guess we've found your kink, and at the same time, we've found George's, and boy did I benefit from it last night! I have an idea. Hear me out, okay?" Betty said.

**

I met David at Pepe's. It was a crappy local Mexican place with margaritas from a mix, but it had good tacos. It was going to be a beer night. You can't go wrong with a Negra Modelo, right? To get me in the mood, I suppose, David ordered me a tequila shot for the beer to chase.

Betty and George showed up only minutes later, and we took a booth for four. We ordered, made small talk, drank our tequila shots (it turned out David had ordered each of us two shots). We toasted friendship as we each downed them, one after the other. I had of course worn a skirt. I also wore a peasant blouse and a cute little frilly lace bra, not really serious enough for my boobs, but it kept them from sagging too much.

We all seemed to know what was going to happen. In anticipation, I had grabbed the end of the bench against a window to the parking area, sheltering me a bit from prying eyes of other customers and the wait staff. David ordered me to remove my panties, and I went into some sort of daze and obeyed, taking off my panties. Following orders, I flamboyantly lifted them over the table and handed them to George. Both he and Betty smiled at me, and they were really fetching smiles, too. Betty looks so pretty when she smiles. George is handsome as all hell, but Betty? She is a vision of loveliness. Their approval went a long way with me.

A few people saw the handoff of my panties. I blushed and studied the tacky placemats.

Next, I had to remove my bra, and I contorted myself and was able to slip it out of the peasant blouse. As ordered, I gave my bra to George, too. I busied myself with my tacos and my beer, awaiting the inevitable. It came, as I felt my skirt being pushed up to my waist. David's finger found my bush, then my slit, pushed apart my legs, and then I let out a little gasp as he slipped his finger inside me. Just like at my parents' house, on the first Hanukkah light, his finger quickly found my g-spot, and both George and Betty could see my tantalizingly slow destruction, simply by watching my face.

That wasn't enough for George, however. David and I stood, and we rearranged, as David, then me, and finally George squeezed into the booth on one side, all of us facing a smiling Big Boobs Betty. Her smile was dazzling. Her shimmering blonde hair was dazzling. Her big boobs were dazzling. I was a little jealous of how pretty she was, and sexy at the same time. Life just isn't fair.

Betty sat alone, with her phone on video mode, held under the table, filming my wide-open pussy, as now David resumed fingering me, with his amazingly talented finger, while George watched, up close and personal. It was humiliating. I loved it. A minute later, my orgasm washed over me as if it were a tidal wave.

**

I knew it was a mistake for the four of us to go to David's home, but we did. David gave us another round of Tequila shots, and he had a higher quality Tequila than the restaurant had served. George kissed Betty (my stomach churned as I watched) and removed her blouse, then her bra. Her glorious boobs spilled out for all to see. At least she had small areolas and small nipples. Be grateful for small favors, my Mom always used to say.

Betty's bare breasts inspired David to remove my blouse, too. George already had my bra, remember? David upped the ante and removed my skirt. I felt powerless to stop him, and I didn't. I was now naked, except for my holdup stockings. David let me keep those on. It didn't seem like much of a concession.

George decided to catch up, and less than a minute later the men had two naked women, and David brought us all another round of Tequila shots.

"How about a beer, instead?" I asked. "Instead, not in addition," I added when David came out with beers but did not reclaim the Tequila shot.

"Have both; they go well together," David said.

We two women were each stark naked. The men seemed to have some trouble deciding which one of us to look at. Finally, I assumed a little control, and I kissed David. I couldn't believe it was our first kiss. He had fingered me to climaxes twice, and he had rendered me naked, and only now were we kissing? Luckily, I liked the way he kissed. George kissed better, but still, David was good. David also had the advantage of playing with my nipples as we kissed, which had always turned me on. Come to think of it, it was the first time a man had kissed me whilst I was naked, and not having been in the back seat of a car! That's kind of pathetic, when the girl is 25 years old, already!

It gets stranger. Betty and George were sitting together on the couch, with Betty naked too, and all they were doing was staring at David and me. George had a naked, and presumably willing and sexy girl right next to him, and he was ignoring her to stare at me? And she was okay with it? I mean, they weren't even touching each other!

It was as if George and Betty were at the theater, watching a play. I was freaked a bit, but I ignored it, and focused on David. I began to fondle his hard cock through his pants, wondering why I was naked, and he was not.

I began the process of fishing out David's cock, and he stopped me. He actually stopped me! He smiled gently at me, and he pushed me down onto my back. He spread my legs, and cupped my mons. He began, gently, to finger me. I knew where this was going. I relaxed, and enjoyed the fabulous caresses of David's amazingly talented fingers. My boobs flattened out, with only my hard nipples pointing up to the ceiling. As I got more aroused, my chest heaved, and beads of sweat formed on my boobs. My kitten was hopelessly wet, and I could hear the sloshes his finger was causing in the small river eddy that was my pussy.

As the fingering progressed, my eyes glanced over to our audience. Big Boobs Betty was smiling and enjoying the theater, but George was clearly turned on beyond all reason. His erection appeared to be huge, and creating a tent in his jeans. It's not easy, I'd imagine, for an erection to create such an amazing tent in the heavy denim cloth of blue jeans. Obviously, watching a naked me get fingered to oblivion was a huge turn-on for George. Who knew?

I came. I knew I would, but strangely, having an audience did not impede my climax but rather sped it along and helped to make it not just nice, not just lovely, but downright wonderful. It involved some screaming, which had never happened to me before.

I pushed David's hands away, and tried to recover my breath, and while I lay there, enjoying the aftermath of such a wonderful orgasm, apparently David had been stripping away his clothes. So too had George. Betty was placed on the double bed next to me, on her back as well, and George mounted Betty at the same time David mounted me.

I had lost my hymen years ago to Dan the Dildo, but I was still a virgin when David entered me. Let me tell you, there's a huge difference between a dildo and the cock of a living, breathing man. Moreoever, I had come to like Mr. Stein, aka David, and that made it so much better than just raw sex would have been. Emotion plays a big role, at least for me. This wasn't a cock entering me for the first time in my life, it was David's cock; it was David himself. I audibly gasped when David's cock entered me for the first time.