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I wondered about her boyfriend, but she laughed. "He's nothing serious. He won't do this. I asked him, and said I was behaving like a 'cheap slut'. He won't even jerk off for me. Says I have to finish him off. He thinks masturbating is wrong. I'm going to dump him."
And she did.
We finished our discussion with frank questions about our own sex lives, our personal kinks and preferences, and a promise to meet again - provided my wife was OK with it. I knew she would be, and I knew she would join us in the future.
Then we dressed, and flicked a switch. She was the trainee teacher and I was her tutor, and so we remained for the next hour, until I went home.
We met regularly after that. I took photos of her, running from glamorous and sexy to hard-core porn, and she took photos of me. My wife frequently joined us - not always - once she knew that there was no full sex, and very little touching, she was happy for Sam and I to meet alone. Sam learned to squirt and expanded her sexual knowledge significantly under the tutelage of my wife and myself. When she eventually met a boyfriend who was more sexually aligned with her, I imagine their relationship was incredible.
Eventually, once she qualified as a teacher, she moved out of her parents' home and out of the area. We still met up, but more rarely, and we would masturbate together, following her strict rules. For me, the lack of pressure was wonderful - I did as I was told, rather than having to lead.
We saw each other through her two pregnancies, only tailing off as motherhood and her professional duties robbed her of time to see me - especially as she also had a husband to accommodate. He was a remarkable man, who happily left us (either Sam and I, or Sam, my wife and I) alone to our pleasures - on condition we share any photographs with him.
We still meet for mutual masturbation, even though I'm now in my late sixties. It's fun and harmless - free of jealousy but surrounded with mutual respect and affection. She's my 'wank-buddy', my wife says - and long may it last.
