Total Woman Odyssey Ch. 02

Diego smirked inside; he sensed her annoyance at his aloofness. It was a key part of his stratagem. He mused on the reliable curriculum-based ploys for exploiting her overwrought obsessions tonight. His role as the alpha male coach tutor dictated that he force her to staunch her feminine desires and act solely to enrich his masculine pleasure.

They checked into an El Paso hotel. It was still the afternoon so he arranged her for some poolside lounging. She wore the skimpy bikini he chose; the thin white fabric was even less cover than the travel duds.

She endured overly attentive waiters, escaping briefly for a dip in the pool. When she emerged dripping wet, the nearly see-thru suit displayed her aroused state, with prominent camel toe and pokies. She couldn't help it; her desires had grown and grown all day after the previous night's round of delightful orgasms.

She pestered Diego to return to the room for sex, fingered his cock over his swim trunks, and rubbed his chest and inner thighs. Other male guests noticed her moves; she noticed their jealous looks, but Diego could not be persuaded to promptly ease her hyper-sexed body. He told her to behave; she must wait for his preference of time and place. She lay back again, a notable blush of lust coloring her face and highly visible bodice. When he decided to leave, she skittered on tiptoes, prancing beside him as he led her back to their suite, boobs hopping in the overstuffed bikini top. Soon, she hoped.

Diego showered with her, soaping and rinsing her body, caressing her feminine zones, working her to a fever pitch, but still provided her no sexual relief.

He dressed her in a little black dress for a candlelit terrace dinner. The bodycon cocktail dress showed her excited hard nipples throughout the romantic evening. The return to room jaunt was a cornucopia of Brenda's boob hugs on Diego's arm as she whimpered in a little girl voice, pleading that they hurry the cavorting stroll to the room.

Inside, Brenda begged for sex, Diego acceded only teasingly to her desires.

He stripped her down, except for heels. He stripped as well, exposing his half tumescent manhood.

"You want it? Then earn it. Make me hard, girl. Use your lips and tongue."

Hyper-sexed, she knelt and dove on his cock. He held her back from her frenzy with handful grips of her hair. He made her go slow, controlling the intensity of the fellatio. He talked her through the exercise, step by step instructions that followed his favored routine.

A tip kiss, a knob suction, a slow draw in, a bit of tongue that swiped the shaft. Then back to the knob, more tongue tip tickles, a sudden forced deep throat, a long hold, and a slow withdrawal. None too soon, even he was set; hard and ready to grant her pleas. He drew her to stand and laid her in the bed. He climbed in and hovered over her.

His body descended in stages. On his elbows, watching her anxious face, he maneuvered his cock tip, touched and teased her dew smeared labia. She wiggled her hips upward, demanding to engulf his cock. He pulled away, playing with her frustration. She impermissibly moved her hand between them and handled his shaft, maneuvering the tip of his knob back to her sodden pussy lips.

Acknowledging her day-long devoted diligence, he finally relented and slowly penetrated in teasing short thrusts, maintaining control as he slowly rooted down to depth inside her. He held there, watching her face grimace with need. Her hips wiggled as she swooned and moaned her lust. Amused, he finally gave in and moved.

His slowly stroking cock manipulated her emotions, building her sexual fire by degrees until she felt the tingled hair follicles on her scalp stand up. Her back arched with a cry. The orgasm slammed into her groin, creating cock-massaging vaginal ripples as her whole body vibrated through the sexual convulsions.

Diego was a skilled Coach Tutor and maintained masterful control of his libido and macho throughout her orgasmic tremors. Her taut muscles gradually unwound and she lay back on the mattress, still clutching Diego's body in arms and thighs. Her pussy tingled from the smashing ecstasy, impulsively tormenting her to insist on more. Her voice broke with a girlish whining, pleading with Diego to go again.

"Please... more... again... please..."

Maintaining control, he made another series of strokes, building up her heated emotions, shuttling his cock along her moist and excited channel. He drove her through another earthquake of ecstasy and waited her out as she descended into more whimpering continuance of her undiminished lust.

Diego had gone on long enough; unsated, he started up once again. But as she orgasmed this third time, he felt her pulsations massage his throbbing cock and he joined her in animalistic howls, spewing a huge pent-up load in her vibrant cunt. Their bodies vibrated together to the heights and then descended down to a normal composure. The sweaty man lay his weary body fully on his emotion drained fuck mate.

Diego had fulfilled his professional Escorting Coach Tutor responsibilities by rousing Brenda to a full measure of her current level of sexual intensity. He would record the episodes for later study by her residential campus staff coach tutors. They would use it to fine-tune her introductory training sessions into her predestined penultimate raptures.

The remainder of the night with her would be for his own macho recompense. He rested next to her sensual body and refracted. Twice, he woke her and rolled atop her. Her moist warm pussy assuaged his spermatic tension as he took pleasure in two leisurely fucks and their cleansing ejaculations which she seemed to revel in as well.

An early dawn 'good morning' fuck gave them 'one for the road'. Brenda, dressed again in her traveling outfit, simmered anew during the daytime driving but was less clingy after her final overnight polishing fucks. Diego acted cagy, standoffish, but in reality, he was less spirited for more fucking after thoroughly draining his balls in her pussy the night before.

They checked into the boutique San Antonio River Walk hotel to await the incoming class gathering and the final leg of the journey.

** Imminent Graduation

Brenda got to be close friends with her other co-ed classmates.

They all liked the curriculum of intelligence, beauty, and poise, and enjoyed the friendly competition and cooperation for higher Evaluation Assessment scores.

They assumed their senior roles as Undergraduate Advisors and tended to the next class of coeds, just as they had been tended to by the previous seniors.

Now it was the culmination of their TWA undergraduate studies and the looming Father-Daughter Weekend.

Campus lore told that the alpha male fathers should be primed and then cooled from their ardor by the classmates before the main incestuous event with their female progeny. That would lead to less feverish actions and enable them to tranquilly engage in prolonged, multi-orgasmic reunions with their offspring and enjoy the rewards of their substantial scholarship support.

** Brenda Bradford 03

Brenda thrived on the Total Woman Academy tri-fold curriculum of intelligence, beauty, and poise. She fell easily into the routine of studies and training that would fashion a future lifestyle of happiness and fulfillment.

Her online academic studies showed her how manipulating the rural terrain of Wyoming could be her fountain of abundant wealth from its mineral and agricultural largesse. Her natural beauty shone all the more brightly with each passing fitness and cosmetology enrichment.

And, most of all, the staff coach tutors ran her through poise exercises, teaching her the ways to please a male companion. Their lessons increased her skill and intensity at sexual performances until they deemed her ready for semi-independent encounters.

She was rostered for selection by Guest Coach Tutors and participation in Freewill Weekends.

She faced this new frontier as she had her rugged surroundings in youth with bold courage and confidence in her ability to handle all challenges.

Some Guest Coach Tutors were gentle, some rough, but all were left fully sated when they departed her presence. Then a special Guest Coach Tutor opened her eyes to the means by which she arrived at this wonderful position as a privileged coed at TWA.

Brenda was selected by a Guest Coach Tutor for a full weekend experience. It could be a trying time for the same young woman to please an elite alpha male repeatedly over several days. The men inherently needed increasing zest and pizazz to maintain their libidos. The coed was expected to finalize the encounter with a fantastically exciting crescendo of satisfaction in order to receive a rave review.

She prepared perfectly for the session: cosmetics, hair, perfume, jewelry, and an alluring skimpy costume for a good first impression. She awaited his arrival in the special guest coach tutor suite, equipped with luxurious fixtures and fittings, fully stocked with sexual aids. The door opened and her surprise visitor entered.

"Hello, my dear. My, you seemed to have done very well here."

Benda fought off her initial shock and recovered her manners.

"Welcome to TWA, Uncle Tom."

'Uncle' Tom Crawford, her father's friend and business partner, smiled broadly as he surveyed the young lass he had lusted for these many years. He had watched her grow from a sprout to a sexy teen and now beheld the sensual female ready to make this weekend journey the culmination of his erotic fantasies. He pointed to the carpet at his feet as he unzipped and extracted his manhood.

"Come, sweetie, kneel here."

Brenda knew what was expected and complied. She looked up at the older man's face as he stared down at her, admiring the cleavage display from above. Her red lips kissed the tip and her tongue flickered the coronal vee as she slowly sucked him in. Halfway in, she paused momentarily as she painted the underside of the shaft with her rolled back tongue tip.

Uncle Tom moaned at the amplifying flourish. Just the thought of her had gotten him in a high state of arousal before he had even entered her room. He found her tutored talents impeccable. His groin buzzed and he almost lost control, but not quite.

He held her head still and drew her off. She played out the move with a 'pop' of her lips on exit.

"I going to fuck your cunt first. Up on the bed, ya' frisky filly!"

She moved with sensual grace, maintaining a longing look on his face as she doffed her flimsy wrap and slinked onto the mattress. Uncle Tom was almost frantic as he whipped off his own clothes. She was bemused by his eagerness and, neck crunched forward, radiated an honest smile down past her spread thighs as she laid back in missionary welcome.

He accepted her summons, crawling between her legs, leaning in for a smooth kiss. She handled him towards her moist labia. With a growl, he pushed in and set a rhythm, fucking her fast and hard to his initial satisfaction.

But once was not enough. They spent the remaining weekend sucking and fucking to exhaustion, in the bed, in a chair, in the bath and shower, and even a roll on the lawn outside the bungalow.

Those were the nights. Days were spent at the pool deck while Tom was attended by Brenda and entertained by the sight of many topless coeds enjoying their own encounters with other visiting Guest Coach Tutors.

During one of their refraction periods naked in bed, Uncle Tom revealed his benefactor role in the parental subterfuge and his scholarship funding that led to Brenda's enrollment in the Total Woman Academy. Grateful for the part Uncle Tom had played in her fortuitous path, she rewarded the middle-aged man with a stupendous deep throat blowjob.

From that moment on, he was transformed in her mind from Uncle Tom to Mr. Tom, or simply, Sir.

Had she known of these things before, her short inter-semester trips home to Casper would have had different agendas.

She remembered her warm but unrevealing conversations with Father. He seemed pleased to see her with more preppy fashions and manners. He was grateful for Tom's intervention and never voiced his wayward suspicions. Better to leave well enough alone in the face of unexplained success.

Some of Brenda's evenings in Casper were spent at the old haunts fending off her former cowboy sex mates' advances. The coach tutor imbued poise training had elevated her acceptable standards and left the local roughnecks as much less desirable fuck mates. If she had known of Uncle Tom's support and his Pledge Contributor status, she would have expressed her Thanks to him much sooner in a carnal fashion.

The ranch hadn't changed during her absence. Bucky still worked for her father and she was impressed with how he had taken good care of her favorite horses. Of course, it was part of his job responsibilities but he seemed to treat them especially well as a response to his memories of the boss man's kind daughter.

She continued that kindness by rewarding him with a veritable 'roll in the hay'. Inside an unoccupied stable, she struggled with his oversized belt buckle. When it finally fell away, she was motivated at the size of his cock. Even oversexed and overexcited, he surprised her as a good lover. She took his edge off the first time and took her own ecstasy the second. Her thoughts flashed back to Krystal's apparent joy at Bucky's cock work and now understood why.

The academic years passed and Brenda's graduation would happen in a few months. Uncle Tom needed to acclimate his friend Bob Bradford to his impending revelation of Brenda's transition to feminine marvel. Rather than a fishing trip, Tom led his friend through a visit to a Midwestern campus Freewill Weekend.

At first, a bit reluctant, Bob capitulated and succumbed to the cornucopia of nubile flesh, enjoying blowjobs and doggies and, especially a kinky fuck of a blindfolded co-ed. When Tom offered him another such weekend, Bob was all in, unaware of his friend's lustful conspiracy. They traveled, this time, to the Texas coast. As the weekend transpired, Tom arranged for Bob to enjoy another anonymous seated blindfold fuck, but with a reverse scenario.

On the way to the proposed meeting, Bob couldn't keep his eyes off the undulating ass of the gorgeous nubile blonde leading him there. Her thong was barely visible in the crack with hardly a thin ribbon of neon green strap stretching low on her waist. Her boobs gave him sidewinder peek-a-boos as he followed her to a simple bedroom scenario suite. He had seen her bouncy round orbs full front when she had merrily greeted him earlier. Arriving at their scheduled venue, she turned after opening the door, the lovely masses swaying gently, and his eyes drank in the view.

She smiled at his mesmerized look of admiration. It was the usual expression of the men she hosted. They couldn't keep their eyes, and more notably, their hands and lips off her tits. She let him stare for an elongated moment and then motioned him to enter their secluded nest.

The room was a Victorian motif and contained a full set of scrolled wooden furniture with plush fabric padding. The carpet beside the four-poster bed bore one wooden captain's chair, somewhat out of place, more often found at a dining room table. She let him take in the scene before disturbing his wonder.

"May I, sir?"

Standing completely in her thrall, enticed by her boobs, ass, and the romantic scenario, Bob would have responded 'of course', even if not knowing what she was requesting. He just stared back at his buxom blonde hostess and nodded.

She approached, gently captured and lowered the bewildered man's hands when they stretched forth to handle her breasts and loosed the drawstring of his shorts. They dropped to his knees and she knelt to assist him through the double tread removal.

"Come with me, sir."

He would have followed her anywhere but she only led him to the rug and its wooden chair. She sat him there and handled his hands again when they reached for her tits. She placed them on the chair arms and stepped behind him, breaking off his view of her near-naked body.

From behind, she leaned in, pressing the mammaries that he hadn't grasped, into his shoulder. She held a black velvet cloth in front of him.

"May I, sir?"

His voice didn't fail him this time. He politely replied.

"Yes, my dear, you may."

She carefully folded the blindfold over his eyes and fastened it behind his head. He was disappointed for his concurrence when it resulted in her warm boobs leaving contact with his skin. But she reinitiated the pressing as her hands swept his shoulders, down his arms across his stomach, and flittered along his inner thighs.

"Comfy?" she inquired. He whispered a choked "Yes".

She leaned her soft boobs into his back.

"Ready?' she whispered.

"Yes' he quipped.

Her hands grazed up his thighs and circled his slack penis and drooping balls, one handful each. Her whispered words found his ear.

"I don't think so. This won't do. Let me help."

Her soft hands caressed the shaft, her sweeping fingertips grazed the knob tip, gaining some girth.

"Mmm, that's better, sir. Maybe a little more? Something different?"

He nodded at her thoughtful suggestion, unable to force out any more verbal responses in his choked up zeal. He felt the air eddy on his arms and legs as she floated away from his back, suspending the boob and tactile touches.

He sensed her kneeling between his legs. Her hands regained their sensitive holds. Warm softness pursed his knob before cuddling lips slowly descended his shaft. His tip bumped spongy membranes deep in her mouth. A moan forced its way from his throat at the deep oral embrace. Her tongue worked its magic and she left off the fellatio when she decided he was fully erect.

Lifting slowly, she shuffled forward and straddled his thighs. Her knees bent over the chair arms, holding his forearms in place. She shuffled further forward and pushed her labia to his erect cock. It was trapped against his tummy.

Her hips cycled and smoothed vaginal dew along his penile underside, lubing him for what was to come next. She shifted again, adding weight to the legs that locked his arms to the chair. He felt the soft plushness of her nether lips find the tip and wiggle downward, encasing his solid manhood. She paused at the bottom, leaned in, and touched his panting lips with a nipple. He instinctively suckled. They tasted of strawberries.

With all the visual and tactile stimulus, he only now noticed the scent of her perfumed hair. It was vaguely familiar and then he singled it out. It was the scent of his departed wife, the true love of his life. Her favorite perfume had quickly become his, as she completely fulfilled his carnal wants. His mind bent unconsciously into fond spousal memories. It paged through the hazy scenes of the many times they had shared their love in bed. And then, in his dream, his wife gave a caring admonition.

'I'll always be with you in spirit even if I can't be there in body. Go back into your present time and fully enjoy the pleasures of the real world. I want you to be happy, emotionally and physically. We'll be together again when the time comes.'

The visions dissolved as he emerged back to the present and her edicts allowed him permission to follow his ingrained lust. He relished the real feel of the smooth vaginal sex occurring in his lap. Memories and reality merged and melted away any ejaculatory obstacles. He was primed and ready, mentally and physically, to complete this semi-anonymous fuck.

He bounced his hips, sucked hard on her tit, and heard her murmured encouragements. She hugged his face tight into her compressed boob, hearing his muffled cry as he roared his ecstasy and pumped his sperm deep into her womb. The shots continued as she hugged him close, then eased off to let him catch his breath. She leaned on his shoulder, panting her own descent from ecstasy.