mature xxx

I enjoyed writing about Miranda, how we met and how our relationship developed, and Miranda enjoyed helping me. I’m sure we didn’t remember all the dialogue but what we didn’t we made up. It seems in tune with how we remember feeling then. Now she’s persuaded me that I should write down my experiences, how I got where I am today and why I am like I am. She reckons I should do this before I write about our first couple of years together. Well, she’s the boss! I have warned her though, that there might be a few surprises.

The story begins over 45 years ago and I will start by mentioning the one thing that has shaped my sexual proclivities, my life really. Why has the female derriere held so much fascination for me? I began worshipping at the altar of the female bottom very soon after I realised that girls and women were more important than cricket!

Now I should explain – unusually I suppose, I wasn’t much into girls in my early teens. As boys we didn’t have much to do with them at school, I always went to boy’s schools, and they weren’t really interested in the things we were: mainly sport and getting up to mischief. When I left school at 16 I was pretty much totally committed to sport. I’d been introduced to cricket, a game which you either like or hate it seems; it became my life! In Camberwell, where I lived, we were just half a mile from the Kennington Oval, a very famous ground, where Surrey played their County cricket. I spent much time watching them but even more playing, I had since I turned 11. All summer I was playing or training and, in the winter, practised and kept fit by running, badminton, and table tennis.

I didn’t get a job, I suppose I was a bit of a slob really relying on mum to feed and clothe me. I look back and realise I was pretty selfish. Any money I did earn, with the exception of a bit for mum’s presents, from odd jobs, errands, and the like, was spent on my cricket gear or any other sporting kit I needed.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked girls. Occasionally I’d go to a dance or a party and I got on reasonably well but it didn’t ever go any further. Before going on perhaps I should describe myself in those days. I wasn’t too bad looking and I’d gained my height early. I was just over 6 feet and slim, lithe some people called me. I’d spurted up rather quickly around 17 and didn’t grow much taller, just filled out. Mum always said I was handsome and I should get out and meet some nice girls but sport was always more important.

All this changed around my 18th birthday. Just before then I fell in love – unrequited but love all the same. I suppose that that is what happens when you suddenly realise how wonderful girls are. She was the daughter of our team captain, only 16 but the most beautiful girl. She hardly noticed me of course, I was from a completely different social strata from her, her father being the owner of the large manufacturing company whose cricket team for which I played. I only did that because I was one of the best around and they needed a good all-rounder.

John, my best friend and the son of my mum’s best friend (more of whom later), was three years older than me and he decided that, on my 18th birthday things should change. He was obviously much more experienced than me (just how much I found out later) and the weekend after my birthday he took me to Soho, that part of London that passed for a red light district, to show me around. He took me to a ’strip’ show then to a book shop where you could get ‘dodgy’ books.

I should explain about ’sex’ in those days. When I was in my teens society was much more restricted than today although it was the start of the, so called, ’swinging sixties’. Well, actually, they swung past me as they did many of my friends who grew up in the South East suburbs of London in those days. Access to things sexual was still fairly strictly controlled then. No ‘top shelf’ magazines, no page three, no adult channels on not much terrestrial television. There were a couple of magazines, Parade comes to mind and the early days of Playboy but both of these were hard to come by really, certainly for a young man who was just realising his sexuality. To get hold of really ‘naughty’ pictures in those days you needed to be ‘in the know’ as it were. Even in places like Soho you still had to pay the earth for anything remotely sexy.

The book shop had quite a good selection as I remember. Lots of ‘naturist’ ones. Titles like ‘Nature’ or ‘Health and Efficiency’ which had pictures of nudists (strangely enough mostly women!) usually with any sign of sex airbrushed out. Remember, those were the days just after the time when you could go and see nudes but they weren’t allowed to move or show any pubic hair! However, it was a short book, a selection of black and white photographs, that really affected me. There were only about half a dozen pictures in this little book, all of the women were in underwear of various types. I think that John realised how much I liked this book because he dipped into his pocket and brought it for me as a birthday present.

It was really one, just one, picture that did it for me. It was of a mature woman, not particularly attractive as I remember, who was dressed in a bra, panties, suspenders, and black stockings. She was wearing four inch heels. Her feet were about 15 inches apart and she was facing away and bending slightly forward with her bottom thrust out, the fabric of her knickers stretched across the broad reach of her fabulous arse. To add to the provocative nature of the picture she was looking back over her shoulder with a sexy smile.

This picture really turned on my sexual drive! Having ignored things sexual for most of my teens, now JT was almost uncontrollable! I must have shed gallons of spunk over her and, for better or for worse, the female bottom has always been my main interest. Of course in those days my knowledge of sex was limited to what I had found out at school, not from sex education I hasten to add, we didn’t have it then. I had no idea that you might have had sex in the back, in the arse if you like, with a woman. I did have a vague idea that that was what ‘queers’ did. That was our term for homosexuals in those days. Not very correct but those were the times. You found out about sex, and what it was all about, from your mates, and by trial and error. My dad had left before I was born so my mum brought me up and she hadn’t found the courage (for reasons I found out later) to tell me all about it so I had to find out for myself.

I don’t know whether I was born with a fixation on the female bottom but I’m sure that this little book and the one picture had such an effect on me that it pointed me in that direction. My imagination would run riot as I masturbated over that picture, focussing on that delightful result of mother nature’s natural selection. Was that why has anal sex been my fascination for almost as long as I can remember? The sight of a woman in suspenders and stockings, particularly with her back towards me, is enough to send me over the top, well it used to be but I’m much more controlled now! It’s a long story, and an exciting one: well at least it was for me.

Once I realised how wonderful girls were I started to date, not very successfully I might add, because I as so inexperienced. I did manage to get a couple of girls to touch my cock through my pants but as that almost always resulted in orgasm we didn’t get much further. The same happened when I managed to sample the extreme pleasures of the female breast so essentially I was inexperienced sexually. As for getting any further – no I hadn’t. I knew what you had to do, stick it in her twat, that’s an English slang for pussy – the word I’ll use from now on. I didn’t realise but, three months after my eighteenth birthday, all that was about to change.

It begins:

The series of events that really fixed the female bottom in my mind and started my sexual education began one Saturday afternoon about three months after my birthday. I was upstairs in my bedroom. I was lucky, incidentally, that I had a bedroom of my own. Not many kids around had their own bedroom in those days. I was an only child and we had a tiny, 2 bed-roomed terraced house so I was fortunate. It was the lunch break during a Test Match (Cricket), I can’t remember who we were playing, but I was taking my own lunch break, pulling my plonker while I fantasized over my lady in suspenders. I should say that I think I was at my peak then. I actually managed to have 7 orgasms in one day, I remember it well – Wimbledon on TV! All those nubile young women running about in short skirts!

I digress! I was wanking away when the doorbell rang. Mum was out so, quickly putting my equipment away and with some difficulty I might add, I shot downstairs to open the door. Now, what I didn’t realise in my haste was that I had left my book open on my bed and, to make things worse – well not really as it turned out but you know what I mean, I’d left the bedroom door open. This meant that anyone passing my room could, if they just looked in, see the open book on the bed. Obviously I was rather flustered, I had been close to cumming so, to anyone who knew, it would probably have been obvious what I dad been up to.

I opened the front door and saw it was Mrs Green. She was my mum’s best friend and my best mate’s mum as well. She and mum had known each other for years and spent even more time together since Mrs Green’s husband had died some seven years ago. They had a lot in common, both being lone mothers.

“Hello Mike,” she said with a smile, “you were a long time!”

“Oh, oh, yea. I was in the loo.” Well, I couldn’t tell her I was pulling my plonker could I?

“Mmm?” she said with a knowing smile. “Is your mum in?”

“Err, no. She’s just popped down to the shops. She’ll be back in a minute.” I thought I might get on her good side so, “Can I make you a cup of tea while you wait?”

“Yes, thanks Mike. I’ll just pop to the loo.” Well the loo was upstairs and, to get there, she had to go past my room. Now at that time I didn’t realise how I’d left the book nor that my bedroom door was open so I just happily went into the kitchen to make the tea. About five minutes later Mrs Green came back down into the kitchen and stood next to me.

“Well young Michael,” she said and I knew I was in trouble because she’d used my full name, “well young man.” It’s funny isn’t it, the only time my mum and her friends used my full name was when I was in trouble? Does that happen to all of us?

“Yes Mrs Green?” said I innocently, unaware of the mangle through which I was about to be put, but apprehensive none the less.

“Is this yours?” she asked holding up my book.

Gulp, oh shit I thought, am I in trouble now! “Err, errrrmmm,”

“Come on Michael, is it yours or not?”

“Well, errm. No.” Bloody stupid I know but hell, I was in trouble!

“Well,” she said with a smile, “it was on your bed.” Had I realised of course, I would have noticed that she wasn’t angry, far from it, she thought it amusing but in my innocence I didn’t see that. All I was concerned with was trying to figure out how to get out of this and, just as important, how I was going to keep my bloody book!

“Well, yes Mrs Green, it is, umm, mine.”

“Mmm,” she said smiling even more, “I thought it might be.”

Time now to beg for mercy. “Please Mrs Green, don’t tell mum, please. I’ll get in terrible trouble. You won’t tell her will you?”

“Oh, I don’t know Michael,” she said pondering the problem. Of course she had every intention of telling my mum but I didn’t know that then did I?

“Please Mrs Green. I’ll do anything!” Well I would. Mind you, I didn’t quite realise what she had in mind!

“I think you are a very naughty young man,” she said with another smile, “but, if you would like to do a few things around the house for me, I think I might keep this as just our little secret.” Relief flooded my body. Mum wouldn’t find out. That was the first hurdle overcome. Now to try and get the book back. Foolish boy!

“Can I have it back please, Mrs Green?”

“What Michael?” she asked with a soft smile knowing, I’m sure, full well what I meant.

“Errrm, my book.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said with a big smile, “I’m not sure you’ll be needing it too much now.” This puzzled me. I know, I was stupid and I was naïve, but well, I didn’t associate Mrs Green with the woman in the book.

“Oh,” I said pleading, “please.” I couldn’t stand to lose that book. What would I use to wank over? Little did I know!

“No,” she said firmly, “no Michael. I think I’ll keep this.” Then she fixed me with a steady look, “Perhaps you’ll calm down. Now, where’s this tea?”

I realised that I had no chance of getting the book back just then. Perhaps, I thought, if I’m good around the house and do lots of jobs she might weaken and let me have it back. She took her tea and sat in the front room waiting for mum. All the while she had a secret smile on her face and kept looking at me in a funny way. Finally, when mum came in, I left them alone and went to my room.

I sat up there thinking about Mrs Green. She was several years older than mum, about 45. As I wrote, her husband had died about 7 years before, in an accident at work. He’d left her not too badly off, though she did work part-time in Woolworth’s. Her son, John, was almost three years older than me and now he was off at university. Like me, he had won a scholarship to a grammar school and then to Oxford. Something I hoped to do but never did. He was intelligent , was John, much cleverer than me. We were both only children who had lost our fathers and our mothers were good friends so we naturally also became good pals.

Now Mrs Green lived on her own. Her house was similar to ours, like many in that area built just before the war. She was quite tall, about 5′ 9″ and well built without being fat. Blonde, bottle I think, she had a nice friendly face and a lovely smile. I liked her, she was always nice to me, and I often stayed at her house with John before he left.

I know it’s difficult to imagine but I hadn’t really thought of her sexually. You know, she was mum’s friend and I wouldn’t, nay couldn’t, think of her like that. You didn’t in those days.

Now, looking back I can remember her with fondness. I suppose you would call her buxom. Large, but not too large, breasts and a flat, but not too flat, tummy. Now, of course, I know that her arse was heaven! Big, broad, and shapely with not to much fat, it was a delight – as I was to find out! I remember it with great fondness.

Anyway, back to my bedroom where I lay on the bed wondering how I could possibly get my book back. Mrs Green obviously hadn’t said anything to mother, I hadn’t be called down. Little did I know! In the end I just went back to listening to the test match and tried to forget about my book for a few minutes.

After a while mum called up. “Mike, Angela is going now. She said you were going to do a few things for her around the house?”

“Yes mum,” I said as I came down stairs, “Mrs Green asked me if I would help,” I said looking at her.

“Mmm,” said mum with a smile, “what’s got into you. It’s all I can do to get you to tidy up your room.”

“Errrmm, err,”

“I persuaded him Joyce,” said Mrs Green, with a wink at me, “he said he would help.”

Mum laughed, “OK, when do you want him?” Of course, had I been more aware of the ways of the world, I would have heard the double entendre shaped in that question.

“Oh, give me half an hour Joyce, then he can come round.”

I was being manipulated of course, but I didn’t realise. I just stood there looking back and forth between my mum and Mrs Green.

“All right Mike?” said mum.

“Oh yea, yea fine. I’ll come round in about half an hour.”

“Mmm,” said Mrs Green, “that’s nice. Bye Joyce, I’ll see you tomorrow.” They quite often spent Sunday afternoons together chatting over tea and cakes or sometimes a bottle of wine. Then she left with a smile for me.

“Well,” said mum with a smile, “you certainly got in Mrs Green’s good books Mike. What came over you?”

Now I had to find an answer quickly. “Oh mum, I just thought that, as John’s gone to college, she might need someone to do things, you know.”

Now mum looked rather sad, “Yes,” she said, “it’s a shame he’s gone away. Still,” she added with a smile, “he’ll be back in the holidays.” Funny, I thought, mum’s looking forward to John coming home – bloody naïve fool!! “It’s nice though Mike. It’s a nice thought. Now you look after Angela and do what she asks.” That was strange as well? Of course I’d help Mrs Green around the house. I bloody do anything to get my book back! But, of course, mum would know that and I didn’t know that mum knew! Unbeknown to me mum knew far more than I did!

“OK mum, no problem. I’m going to listen to the match for a while then I’ll go round.” So off I went upstairs and laid on the bed listening to the cricket – no masturbation. What was I going to do without my book? Soon the tea break arrived and I set off for Mrs Green’s with a cheery, “Bye,” to mum.

“Tea’s about 6,” she said, “don’t be late.”

“No, I won’t mum, bye.”

I strolled round the corner and knocked on Mrs Green’s door. “Come in Mike,” she shouted from the front room, “I’m in here. Put the latch up when you come in.” That locked the front door.

When I entered the front room I noticed that she had changed her clothing. I don’t think I’d ever seen her dressed in anything like this before. It didn’t really register with me that it was any different, only that I hadn’t seen this dress before. Although it was only early spring she was dressed in a light summer dress that flared at the waist and really showed off her hips. It finished around mid calf and I noticed that she wore high heeled shoes: something else I’d rarely seen her do, at least not as high as these.

The dress wasn’t cut very low but it did, somehow, accentuate her boobs which, I must admit, I did notice. It’s strange isn’t it, the way that the old JT, your cock, your prick, really notices things like this before you do. I was worried about what she was going to ask me to do. I wasn’t that good at DIY so I was a bit apprehensive. JT however, was concentrating on much more important matters, i.e. Mrs Green’s boobs!

She sat down on the settee as I came in and picked up my little book. I felt a bit like a naughty schoolboy, hell, I suppose I was really, as I stood there in front of her.

“Now young man,” she said. I noticed she called me ‘young man’ rather than ‘my boy’, a phrase she’d used before. Had I known, of course, I would have realised that, in her eyes, I was becoming a man. “Now young man, let’s get to the bottom of this!” Gulp, oh shit. Now I thought I was in big trouble. “This is yours is it?” She opened the book.

“Yes, Mrs Green, it is,” I decided that honesty was the best policy, well, at least as far as it went!

“Why was it up there on the bed?”

“Errrmm, err, well, errrm.”

“Come on now,” she said with a soft smile that, had I recognised it, would have banished all my fears, “you can tell me. I promised you didn’t I,” she added. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I’d go some of the way.
“Errrmm, I was looking at it.”

“Looking at it?”

“Yes, Mrs Green.”

She looked up at me and smiled, “You can call me Angela when you’re round here,” she said. “Now, you were ‘looking at it’?”

“Yes Mrs . . . Angela.” It sounds silly I know but it was difficult to see her as ‘Angela’. She was somehow different if I called her that – does that make sense?

Now another smile and she fixed me with her eyes. Eyes that I noticed were very pretty, a bit like Marilyn Monroe’s (and I had spent an age worshipping her!). “I’m sure you were doing more than just looking?”

I blushed bright red. I was sure she knew, or at least guessed. How the hell was I going to get out of this one. “Errrmm, no,” I said as honestly as I could manage.

“Why are you blushing Michael?” Oh shit, my full name again – she did know.

“Oh Mrs Green . . .,”

“Angela,” she interrupted.

“Err, Angela. Oh, I can’t say,” I said and looked away.

She stood then, touched my cheek tenderly, and turned my head back towards her. “Yes you can Mike, you can.” She sat again, “You don’t have to be frightened, your mother will only know what I tell her.”

“Oh Mrs . . . Angela, I’m embarrassed.”

Again that lovely smile that I realise now meant so much. “You don’t have to be embarrassed Mike. Come on, tell me what you were doing.”

Well by now JT, far more aware of what was going on that I was, had started to show some interest and I was feeling some discomfort in that area. As my crotch was level with Mrs Green’s eyes, I’m sure she had noticed as well. I had, therefore, to come clean to try and get to sit down at least.

“I was touching myself,” I said red faced, hoping that that would do. Foolish boy!

“Oh, ‘touching yourself’,” she said pensively, “‘touching yourself’?” Then she fixed me with those eyes that were becoming lovelier by the minute and she smiled a big smile, “You naughty young man, you were masturbating weren’t you?” Well, I know now that, of course, she knew I was, but now, well I was bloody found out.

I blushed bright red, probably all over, as she waited for my reply. My mind was working overtime, what could I say, she’d guessed. Come clean and try to recover some lost ground! “Oh Mrs Green.”

“Angela,” she interrupted with a smile.

“Err, Angela, err. Oh heck, yes, yes I was. Oh Mrs Green please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” some chance!! “Please don’t tell mum, please.

She smiled back at me seeming not upset at all, “I told you, you young hellion, she’ll only hear what I want her to hear.” What did that mean I thought. “Now,” she said becoming more business like, “I want you to show me just what you were doing. You can sit down here,” and she indicated the seat next to her on the settee.

Sweet Jesus Christ, I thought, what am I going to do. I can’t do this can I, get my todger out in front of Mrs Green, could I? Standing there as I was, clothed but naked in front of her, I didn’t know what to do. She got up again and gently eased me back into the settee then sat next to me. Turning to face me she said with a great big smile, “Come on, don’t be shy,” the she laughed, “I have seen one before!”

I gave a shy laugh as I looked in her eyes. I would have seen desire there I think, if I’d known what to look for, an aching desire that needed release. She reached over and stroked my cheek again, “Don’t be shy Mike, just show me what you were doing. I won’t mind and I definitely won’t tell Joyce anything you don’t want me to.”

I looked in her eyes and I trusted her. I think I must have been beginning to realise that something else was going on here but that was only subconsciously, although JT was far ahead of the game. I was struggling to control a fairly positive erection throughout all this. An erection that I was sure Mrs Green could see. Anyway, as I saw it I didn’t have much choice. The implication seemed to be that she would tell mum if I didn’t do as she told me. We were on our own, John was at university, so no one would walk in because I’d locked the front door.

“You really want me to, Mrs . . . Angela,” she mouthed it with me.

“Yes Michael,” she said with a depth of feeling that I was too immature to recognise. “Oh yes, I’d like to see what you were doing while you were ‘reading’ your book,” she added with a smile as she waved it under my nose.

I took a very deep breath and crossed my very own Rubicon! I undid my belt, lifted up my bum, and slid my trousers down. I was concentrating on my own problem, how to hide my, by now, massive erection, so I only just noticed Angela’s face. I didn’t recognise it then but now I know it was lust, pure and simple. That’s not surprising however, knowing what I know now.

“That’s nice,” she said throatily. I thought she meant that I done what she asked, now I’m not so sure because I remember that the tip of my cock was sticking over my underpants. I’m quite lucky I suppose, although it has been a problem in some cases, that I’m fairly well endowed. Not enormous but fairly a healthy 8½ inches at full stretch and about three round. I am circumcised so that can make your JT look rather more appealing, at least I’m told that by some women I’ve been with. This afternoon I was at full stretch. Surprising really I suppose, considering the position I found myself in. I was embarrassed, terribly embarrassed at exposing myself to my mum’s best friend but she had wanted me to. JT, of course, was probably more aware of what was going on than I was – well my libido was anyway!

“Now your underpants Michael,” she said throatily.

I looked at her pleadingly, “Mrs Green . . .?!”

“Angela,” she said with a smile, “here you call me Angela.”

“B b b but,” I stammered.

She put her finger gently to my lips, “Shussh,” she said, “Angela! Now come on. I want you to show me. It’ll be all right, don’t worry.”

Strangely enough her voice relaxed me a bit now, perhaps I had begun to realise that more was going on here than met the eye, so I lifted my bum again and eased my underpants to allow my cock it’s freedom.

“Oh my,” she said in surprise, “but that is quite impressive!” I looked sharply at her, not sure what she meant. She noticed and smiled, “Don’t mind me. Now here’s your book, it’s at your favourite page I think.” Well yes it was. You could tell it was my favourite by the stains on it! “Just show me what you were doing.”

Well, there was no going back now so I gripped dear old JT and began a slow wank. I couldn’t look at Mrs Green, I just fixed my eyes on my lady in suspenders and tried to get it over with. I really didn’t know what was going to happen to me, I felt helpless but there was something exciting about it all as well. My usual course was to imagine coming up behind her, removing her knickers, and sticking it inside her. Look, I didn’t even know what a woman looked like down there! I’d had a feel but you don’t get much idea from that do you? Nowhere could you get pictures like today that show you all of a woman’s sex. Then I just knew you stuck your cock inside her and I assumed you could do it from the back as well as the front, well John told me you could and he was older than me.

So, there I was, slowly masturbating under the watchful, and lustful (although I didn’t know that then), gaze of Mrs Green, Angela. After a few strokes pre-cum started to leak out of the tip and ease my wanking. Just then Mrs Green put her hand on my right forearm and stopped me.

“Mmm,” she said, “that’s very good Mike.” Her other hand turned my head to face hers, “What are you thinking of when you do that?”

Oh shit! How could I tell her. She must have seen my confusion and taken pity on me. “Are you thinking of doing ‘IT’ with her?”

“Oh Mrs . . . Angela. Oh I’m sorry! Yes, oh yes I am.” I was close now.

She smiled, “Go on then.” So now I did, wanking hard thinking of ramming my cock into this suspender clad woman. The inevitable happened and, fairly quickly, I came sending several pulses of spunk up in the air before the remains of that orgasm dribbled down my cock. By some strange act of fate some of the spunk, which had travelled quite a way, had landed on Mrs Greens shoulder.

“Oh god, oh shit. Oh bloody hell,” I said forgetting myself. “Oh hell, I’m sorry Mrs Green.”

She didn’t seem bothered, “Angela,” she smiled, “I told you Mike, Angela when you a round here.”

“Oh, err, Angela, I’m sorry, so sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

Her hand came up and stroked my cheek, “No,” she said softly, “no you couldn’t.” Then she did the strangest thing, well at least I thought I so then, she used her finger to scrape up my spunk from her shoulder and then she sucked it off between her lovely red lips. My mouth must have opened in astonishment because she laughed and said, “Mmm, that tastes nice.”

Gulp, “Umm, errrrmmm, err,” I managed to stammer, right hand still gripping my only slightly softer cock. In those days I didn’t soften right away, indeed, I could go again almost immediately: often did! (Oh for the joys of youth!) Now she surprised me even more. She moved off the settee to kneel in front of me. Fixing me with her eyes she said, “Keep still Mike, don’t move. Everything will be all right.” Then she leant forward and licked the tip of my spunk covered cock!

I was frozen. I didn’t know what to do it was so, so unexpected. Here was my mum’s best friend kneeling in front of me licking my cock, christ, I hadn’t imagined anything like this even in my wildest dreams, and some of them were pretty wild.

Her tongue licked around the head, she seemed to enjoy the taste of spunk mixed with precum. All the time she fixed me with her eyes. After a few licks she looked up and said, “Let him go Mike and give me your hand.”

I was like an automaton now, just doing as I was told. I almost couldn’t believe this was happening. Was it some kind of daydream or even a nightmare. She took my hand and used her tongue to eat the spunk off of it.

“Mmm,” she said, “nice.” Now her hand was holding my cock, gently, tenderly. Her hand was cool but it made my cock shoot up to full hardness again.

“Oh hell, oh god, Mrs . . . Oh fuck!!” She had taken the head of my cock in her mouth. It was wet, it was warm, it felt like some kind of heaven. She began to gently wank me then and to softly suck. Well I wasn’t used to this and I had no control whatsoever at that age so the inevitable happened. I came, and I came hard and long. Harder and longer because Angela was sucking the spunk out of my cock like a Hoover. I’d thought that I’d had some good wanks in the past but nothing, nothing had felt like this. It was unbelievable, the pleasure indescribable as pulse after pulse was sucked out and, although I didn’t see it, swallowed by Angela. Hell could she suck cock! All the while she gently masturbated me, lengthening the time of my orgasm and increasing the number of pulses.

As I finished I was mortified. What had I done – not that I had much control over it! We boys had talked about cock sucking of course, and I’d dreamed of a girl sucking my cock obviously, but never a woman and certainly not Mrs Green!

“Oh god Mrs Green,” it did take me a while to get to ‘Angela’, “oh hell, I’m sorry,” I said almost in fear of what would happen and I tried to pull away.

She was having none of it. She kept hold of my, now softening, cock and, raising her head level with mine, smiled and opened her mouth. Oh my god, she had a mouthful of my spunk! I was horrified and excited at the same time. I have come to understand how exciting this can be. A woman with a mouthful of your cum that she shows you then swallows. It was exciting then as well but that excitement was tempered by fear of the consequences.

Now she used her tongue to move the white mass round her mouth then she swallowed the lot. I swallowed as well – boy was I in trouble, or so I thought. I suppose I should have realised that it hadn’t been my fault at all, I was just being manipulated but I didn’t see it like that just at that moment.

“Oh heck, Mrs . . . Angela, oh heck. I’m sorry. Oh don’t say anything to mum please. I’ll do anything.” I suppose, looking back, I was terrified. You see, I was naïve, most of us were in those days, because there wasn’t the access to adult material that there is today.

Angela smiled at me as she licked her lips, “It’s a long time since I tasted that,” she said, not that I understood what she meant. “Oh dear, sweet Michael. Poor young man,” she laughed, “you young innocent. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Can’t you guess what’s happening?”

I must have been particularly dense but, well I was so worried about what I had done. Mind you, it had been so bloody good I did hope I might do it again well, anyway, at least get to wank remembering it. I still didn’t see. I shook my head.

She touched my cheek, “Oh you dear innocent,” she said again, “just like John.” That puzzled me but I didn’t dwell on it. The meaning became clear later.

“You’re almost grown up now Mike. What just happened proves that. You are a young man and now you’re going to learn about women, and I’m going to teach you!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, “You Mrs . . . Angela, teach me?”

“Yes Mike, teach you about women and about yourself.”

“What . . . err . . . what about mum?”

She smiled, “She knows silly, she knows all about your book. She’s known for ages. We’ve just been waiting until you were old enough to know,” she looked at my somewhat shrunken cock, “and that delightful JT of yours was ready.”

Now I was beginning to fall in, “Mum knew, mum knows about, errrm, about my book?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “she’s known about it for a while. We both have.” She touched my cheek again, “And we know what you do with it!”

I blushed again then met her eyes, “This was all . . . a test? I don’t understand?”

“Oh you darling young man, of course you don’t.” She sat up next to me, “Tidy yourself up and I’ll make us a cup of tea. Then I’ll explain everything to you.” She left for the kitchen and I tucked myself in and sorted myself out. No spunk left on my cock this time, I thought with a nervous laugh – was this the shape of things to come? I was beginning to wonder.

Angela came back a few minutes later with tea and biscuits. So normal that I almost laughed but it was normal for her you see. She poured tea and I took a cup and a biscuit.

“You see Mike,” she began, “your mum and I have been friends for almost twenty years, just after John was born. Well you know your dad left your mum before you arrived, bastard that he was.” This was no news to me. Mum had told me all about my dad and how he left her when he found she was pregnant. Last heard of, he was in Australia but that was 10 years ago. I had no interest in him so what Angela said about him didn’t bother me.

“Well, she’s been on her own since then.”

“She’s had me,” I said somewhat indignantly.

“Oh yes, and you’ve been her rock,” she said, “but now you’re nearly a man you must understand what I mean when I say ‘on her own’.”

The penny dropped and I was suddenly ashamed. Had my presence caused her pain, unable to form a relationship with another man. Angela saw it, “Oh Mike, don’t blame yourself. She loves you and she didn’t mind being on her own. Now let me carry on. Since my Stan passed away we’ve been very close your mother and I, very close indeed.”

I was suddenly very perceptive. Look, I’m not slow, that’s how I got to where I am today, “You’re ‘on your own’ too aren’t you.”

“My,” she said with a smile, “you are a perceptive young man aren’t you? Yes I am on my own and I have been since then.” My mind was racing now, racing along on a single track. Now I realised why I was here, Angela wouldn’t be ‘on her own’ would she. I would be here for her.

I looked at her boldly, “You won’t be on your own any more will you?”

She looked at me open eyed, surprised I think, that I had figured it out so quickly. “I can see that we aren’t going to be able to mess you about,” she said with a smile. “No,” she went on, “if you’re happy to be taught, I won’t be on my own any more.”

My stomach did back flips, more of what had just happened and so much more. I looked at her and smiled, “I think I’d like that,” I said confidently. You know I felt grown up then at just turned 18.

“Good, your mother will be pleased she can return the favour,” she said strangely. Then another penny dropped.

“John?” I said slowly, “John and mum!” I remembered then how mum had seemed to change just after John decided her was going to university; she seemed happier, more content. John is three years older than me. Of course! He was often waiting for me when I came from cricket practice or from late classes. I remember he stayed with mum for the whole two weeks I went on school holiday. How, often Angela would take me out shopping, or to the cinema, while John was elsewhere: now I guessed where.

I looked at her rather blankly. I didn’t know what to think. John and my mum. John was my best friend. Before he went to college he looked after me. Him and mum, look, I never thought of my mum as a woman. Hell that’s not right, or course I did! I knew she was pretty, prettier than Angela. As I wrote, she was about 6 years younger than her. John and mum, John and mum.

Angela touched my arm to draw me out of my reverie. I was trying to assess how I felt. Was I jealous, jealous of him and her. Well I was and I wasn’t really. I looked at Angela, “Is it, was it, like that with them Angela. Did mum, does mum, teach him?”

I think she realised that this was a dangerous moment. They must have talked about it, realised that I wasn’t stupid and would have worked it out sooner or later, so they must have realised that I could go either way. Angela nodded at me, “Yes Mike, it is.” She smiled, “I lent him to her, lent him for his education in how to make love, in how to treat a woman. Michael, oh Michael, she has been so lonely. Lonely like that. Of course she has you and she loves you but, well . . .” Now she seemed at a loss for words.

I took a deep breath. I should explain, I loved my mother, loved her more than anything. She’d sacrificed a lot for me, most of her youth really, to bring me up properly: and she had done that. Even before this afternoon and as I became older I was beginning to realise how much of me was a product of her caring and love. I’d not wanted for much. I was beginning to understand then, as I have come to understand more and more, that, if you love someone, above all you want them to be happy. I loved her and I wanted her to be happy. I know now that’s important in romantic love but it’s important in filial love as well.

I was sitting there working all this out. Of course I knew that I couldn’t do for her what John could, she was my mum and, well that wasn’t allowed. I’d never thought of my mum like that anyway, despite realising how attractive she was. Hell, I hadn’t even thought about Angela like that and she was pretty tasty! Angela was quiet, letting me work out my feelings as I tried to be adult and understand what was happening. Then I had another thought. How Angela’s Stan had stayed round our house sometimes, how mum went round to Angela’s while she and John were with me.

“Angela?” I said pensively, “uncle Stan?” She looked at me sharply, “Uncle Stan. Did he, you know, with mum?” I realised that she must have known if he did. They were very close. He was a lovely man and both women were distraught when he died.

“Mike, you mustn’t be upset about this,” she swallowed nervously. I think I had surprised her in realising about uncle Stan and I suppose she had no idea how I’d react to all this news of sexual shenanigans. As I said, the swinging part of the sixties didn’t really reach south east London.

“Mum was happy then,” I said, “I remember. Did they love each other, you know, like you and him did?” Naïve I suppose, and childish, but shit, I was only just turned 18 and so much was happening in my head, and it was, for some strange reason, important that they did have feelings for each other. Thankfully, I suppose, she realised how much that simple fact meant to me.
“Yes,” she said, “I think they did, perhaps not quite the same, but yes, they were fond of each other.”

“Good,” I said, “I’m glad she was happy.” I knew then that I had absolutely no right to sit in judgement of my mother. If she was happy with John then so be it. I vowed to myself that it wouldn’t change my attitude to John. I couldn’t do the same about my mum because what was happening today was changing me, changing me from an innocent boy into a young man, so I couldn’t say that. I did know that I didn’t love her any the less for finding out about this, if anything I loved her more. That she would allow this: this ‘education’.

I looked up and smiled at Angela, I could think of her like that now, Angela. God she was lovely! “I think I understand,” I said. “I just want mum to be happy and if she is then anything she does is OK with me.” Then, feeling very grown up, and pushing my shoulders back, “And I’ll do my best to make you happy too,” I said with a smile.

She looked hard at me, with new eyes I think, “My,” she said, “my, my, you are a perceptive and very impressive young man. Just like your mother says.” Then she leant forward and kissed me, not your ‘auntie’ kiss that she usually reserved for me, but a kiss full on the lips. Shit was she good. I melted and shivers ran up and down my spine.

“That’s a promise of things to come,” she said with a smile as she pulled away. Then she was more businesslike, “Mike, are you OK. It’s a lot for you take in. Are you sure you are all right with this?”

I smiled, “Yes,” I said, “how could I not be. Does mum know, you know, about this afternoon?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “we planned it. You’re not upset?”

“No,” I said, “it was pretty good.”

Now she looked at me with knowing eyes, “Oh you enjoyed it did you?”

My turn to blush, no good playing games with her! “Y. . e . . s,” I managed to say.

“Good,” she said, “then I’m sure you’ll enjoy the jobs I’ve got for you to do after dinner!”

“Jobs?!?!?”

“Mmm,” she said, “I’ve got tons of jobs for you to do,” she smiled at me suggestively (well, I didn’t know that then but I do now), “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh,” I said realising what she meant. “I’ve got to come round after dinner?”

“Mmm, if you want to. Do you?”

“Oh heck Angela, do I!!!”

She laughed, “Off you go and have your dinner. I’m sure your mum will want to know how you got on?”

OH, I thought, oh. I’ve got to tell mum. I realised I would be embarrassed and Angela must have noticed. “Don’t worry Mike, just tell her what happened and what we talked about. You’re grown up now, you can talk about these things. You will learn Mike, that it’s far better to talk about these sort of things than to hide them away. Go home and hug your mum.”

“Mmm,” I said with a smile, “I will and I’ll be back after dinner for some more ‘jobs’!”

She playfully boxed my ears, “Off you go young devil,” she said in a strange voice.

I walked very slowly back home that afternoon. You must understand that what had happened was fairly momentous for me. Not only was I having to deal with my own developing sexuality and my reaction to Angela, I also had to deal with the revelations about my mother with both Stan and John.

As I walked I realised that, just as I was apprehensive about returning home, so would mum be as well. She knew what Angela was planning to do and they must have discussed me realising about John. Perhaps they didn’t realise that I would put two and two together regarding Stan, I was after all, only 11 when he died but I did remember him very well. As I thought about it I realised that he had almost been a father to me in those early years. That’s why John and I were so close, we were almost like brothers. I was beginning to see that my mother and Angela had a very close relationship indeed.

I used my key in the front door and shouted, “It’s me mum,” as I came in.

“In here,” I heard from the lounge. A rather muted ‘in here’ as if she was worried. Well, I had determined on the way home (I’d gone round the block three times to think things through), that nothing would change. I still loved her, her and John didn’t change that. My being with Angela didn’t change the way I felt about mum and I supposed it didn’t change the way she felt about me. One thing had changed, that was me. I had grown up this afternoon. Oh not sexually, that was to come, but emotionally. I could recognise how I felt and it was confident, adult, and secure.

“Hello mum,” I said as I came in. She was sitting in the chair very demurely, hands resting in her lap, as if she thought she was going to be chastised, told off, or something. She looked up at me with eyes that were close to crying. She must have got herself into something of a tizwaz waiting for me to come home.

I went over to her and kissed her cheek, just as I usually did when I came home. Then I gave her a big smile. That seemed to relieve some of her tension and she looked up and smiled back at me wanly.

“Hello Mike,” she said softly and her hand came up to caress my cheek. I realised then that she had to say goodbye to me didn’t she. Oh not actually but figuratively speaking. She had to say goodbye to the child she’d nurtured all these years. She knew then that I was a man, or soon to be one. That must have been difficult for her too.

I knelt in front of her and took her hands in mine, “What is it mum?” There was pain in her eyes as she looked into mine. She must have recognised immediately that I had changed, grown if you like, grown emotionally.

She took a deep breath, a swallow, and said, “Did you, did you speak to Angela?”

I smiled softly trying to calm her nervousness. I could feel the tension in her hands. “Yes mum,” another smile, “I did ’speak’ with Angela, amongst other things.” Now, curiously, she blushed. She couldn’t know that Angela had succeeded in her seduction of me until now and now she knew, or suspected anyway, that I was aware of her relationship with John.

She looked at me almost in supplication, “You know,” she said, her voice trembling, “you know about . . .” She couldn’t look at me. She was ashamed! That was it, she was ashamed. Well that’s what I thought at the time. As it turned out that wasn’t the reason. My heart went out to her and I reached forward and hugged her tight. She sobbed on my shoulder.

“Oh mum, mum, you don’t have to cry. I understand.” I held her at arms length by her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes, “You don’t have to be ashamed before me mum, me of all people. I owe you everything, everything I am and am ever likely to be. You’ve given most of your life to me, I know that and I’ve just found out what that might mean,” her turn to look at me in surprise. I smiled and her puzzlement, “I can only begin to imagine what it will be like, doing all Angela’s ‘jobs’. She said she’s got an enormous backlog!”

This cut the tension and made her laugh. She boxed my ears playfully, “You are a devil Michael,” she said, “Angela was right.” I raised my eyebrows, “She said she thought you would learn very quickly.”

“Quicker than John?” I asked softly. It had to be said, to be dealt with and got out of the way. She had to know that it was not my place to criticise her life, only to protect her now that I had grown.

This caused her to look away, shame resurfacing. “Oh Michael, you can’t know what it is like. So lonely,” she realised what she was implying, “oh Mike I don’t mean that.” She was almost in tears again. It seemed so difficult for her to find the right words to try to explain herself so I tried to do it for her.

“I understand mum. You don’t have to be ashamed before me, before anyone. You’re my mother, nothing you do can be wrong. I’m beginning to realise what it must be like to be alone like that, without a man,” she looked at me wide-eyed, “without a man to love, well at least to make love to. If John gives you that, and you enjoy it: good. I want you to because I think I’m going to enjoy being with Angela,” I smiled, “well, certainly in this afternoon is anything to go by!”

Now her shame turned to pride. She smile at me, “I told Angela it would be all right,” she said then she caressed my cheek again, “I trusted you.” I held her tight.

“I know about uncle Stan as well!” It had to be got out of the way as well. She needed to know that I knew and that I understood.

“Oh god,” she said shocked, “how? Angela?”

“No,” I said smiling, “you always said I was sharp young man. I just put two and two together and got four. Look mum, I haven’t the right really, to say this, but I don’t mind. You have to live your life, had to live it, as you see fit. Nothing you’ve ever done has harmed me and you mustn’t punish yourself because now I know. I’m glad I know because I think I’m beginning to understand.

“Now,” I said standing and smiling down at her, “I’m going out to get some fish and chips for our dinner. I’ll pop into the off-licence and get a bottle of wine. I think we need to have a little celebration don’t you?”

“What for,” she said with a smile.

Taking a very deep breath and a terrible risk, I said, “To celebrate me losing my virginity!”

This made her laugh, her rich throaty laugh, that showed me she was all right. “I told her you’d be a handful,” she said with a smile then she realised the possible double meaning and blushed because she knew I would see it as well!

I pecked her cheek and left to get dinner. It was a happy meal, simple but enjoyable. For some reason I felt an even greater connection with her now. We chatted about her past and her relationship with Uncle Stan. She didn’t seem too embarrassed now that she knew I was growing up emotionally. I think it was one happiest meals I ever had with her. My only worry afterwards was leaving her alone all evening. I mentioned it.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said, “I’ll watch the TV or read, I’ve got that new book. Very raunchy they tell me.”

“Are you sure you’ll be OK?” Don’t ask me why I was being like this, I almost always went out on Saturday night. It was just that I felt responsible for her now. I suppose it was my growing up. I think it pleased her.

“Yes, of course I will. Now, off you go, Angela will be waiting. Behave!”

I laughed, I was growing up, “I’m not sure she wants me to,” I said.

“Get off with you, devil,” she said laughing, “and enjoy yourself.”

As I left the house and strolled around the corner to Angela’s I wondered what the future held for me. I couldn’t help but think it would be fun. I didn’t realise then how lucky I was, that only came to me some time later as I walked home on Sunday. I knocked on the door and Angela called, “It’s open Mike. Put the latch on.” We would be on our own and not disturbed: I was beginning to get excited.

She was standing there in a dressing gown. Something I’d never seen her in before and I was surprised. She looked me up and down. Now I should say that I was wearing the same stuff as before. Not the smartest nor, I’m ashamed to say, the cleanest. I’d been laying about in it all day and I realise now that I must have looked pretty scruffy. The other thing I should mention is that I hadn’t had a bath since Thursday. We didn’t have showers in those days and bathing didn’t seem quite so important to a 16 year old who always had something better to do. Although it hadn’t bothered her earlier, Angela was about to change that and teach me a valuable lesson!

“Well young man,” she said with a smile. She did have a son as well so she knew what we were like! “First things first. Your first job is to make yourself presentable.” I raised my eyebrows and she smiled.

“I’ve run a bath for you upstairs. Go up and get in. Leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll deal with them. I’ve got some things for you to wear.” I must admit I thought this was strange, baths, clothes: perhaps I had got hold of the wrong end of the stick.

“Go on,” she said with a smile, sensing my puzzlement, “all will be explained later.” So I trotted upstairs to the bathroom, undressed and put my clothes outside the door. For some inexplicable reason I locked the bathroom door! Climbing in the bath I laid back and relaxed. Now a bath always induced interest from JT and a healthy wank usually followed but I thought that, tonight, I ought to lay off. Perhaps something else would happen.

I don’t know how long I lay there, not long I suppose, I was eager to find out what ‘jobs’ I had to do. I scrubbed myself clean, got out and dried myself then realised I didn’t have anything to wear! My clothes had gone from outside the door so I called to Angela.

“Errm, Mrs Green, errr Angela. I haven’t got any clothes.”

“They’re in here,” she called out, “in the bedroom.”

In the bedroom!! How was I to get there? Making the best of it because I was shy then about showing my body to her, I draped a hand towel around my waist and held it in place. In the bedroom she was sitting at her dressing table and she turned to look at me as I came in. Hell, was I embarrassed. Well I was naked in front of mum’s best friend and, despite the realisation that something important was going to happen, I was still shy.

She smiled at me. She looked gorgeous! More make-up than usual and her hair freshly groomed, she was wearing a white blouse, loose at the waist outside her skirt. She stood and I saw her skirt was loose as well, hanging from her hips and reaching mid-calf. She was wearing high heeled shoes (’bedroom slippers’ as I later found out). As I noticed her I realised that I was beginning a journey of discovery and JT did as well! She walked over to me and caressed my cheek.

“My but you are a beautiful young man,” she said with feeling.

Beautiful? No one had ever called me beautiful. I began to feel a little bit worried. She noticed and laughed, “Don’t be silly,” she said, “men and boys can be beautiful as well as women and you are, very beautiful indeed. Come over here.” She returned to be dressing table stool and sat down facing me.

“Come on,” she smiled, “don’t be shy.” I walked over to her realising that, by now, my cock was beginning to register the situation in which it found itself and was pushing the towel up. As I got there she reached for the towel and drew it away, “You don’t need that,” she said, “let me look at you properly.” Then she gazed into my eyes, “You can look at me properly later.”

Well that did it, JT shot to full attention now and I knew, just knew that if she touched me there I wouldn’t be able to hold back. This was such an exciting situation for a young man to be in and I had absolutely no control in those days. I think she must have realised how excited I was because she didn’t touch me there immediately. She just smiled and looked at my erection with a lick of her lips. I’ve written about eyes devouring a body and this is when I first saw it. Her eyes seemed to note every part of me, every muscle, every nuance of my body. Being looked at like that was very, very erotic.

Then she began to explore my body. Her hand ran down my, then hairless, chest and over my flat stomach until the start of my pubic hair. She was careful not to go any further just yet. Now my hips, she just ran her hands across my skin. The feeling was wonderful. Her hands seemed cool, although I suppose they must have been hot, and then caressed my thighs and right down to my knees.

“Oh you are lovely,” she said looking into my eyes, “turn round.”

Embarrassed still, and even more so now, I slowly turned. I didn’t realise then, (and I don’t have it now!) but she later told me I had a lovely arse. I know now that women are quite often attracted by the shape of a mans bottom: why I don’t know, perhaps it’s just natural, but I wasn’t aware then. I wasn’t aware either of the power a woman had over a man in playing with his arse. Mind you, I found out about that pretty quickly as well!

“Oh that is nice,” she said as she stroked down my back then across my buttocks and the cheeks of my bottom. I couldn’t believe it when I felt her hands part those cheeks and one finger drag across my bottom hole. Mind you, I did get the faintest feeling of what might happen if that finger lingered there, as JT got even harder, if that was possible. She seemed to linger on my arse for a long time, I now know why and I suppose, in some way that made me more interested later in hers.

Finally she spoke, “Turn round darling one,” she said softly, “let’s see if we can do anything for that lovely muscle of yours.” Stupid I know, but I wondered what she meant. I soon found out!

As I turned she leaned forward and looked closely at my cock. She seemed to be trying to fix it in her mind. “This is lovely,” she said looking up at me, “you know you’re quite big don’t you?” Well I was aware that I was larger than most but I didn’t feel I should boast.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Well you are and it really is a beautiful cock.” I blushed as she said this. I wasn’t expecting such language from her. She noticed.

“You mustn’t be frightened to use the right words Mike. Don’t be frightened to say what you think, call things by their name. It’s all right in the bedroom.”

I took a deep breath and looked down at her. It was so, so exciting seeing her there, her mouth inches from my cock. Then her cool hand grasped it like a racket handle and her mouth found the end. She began to masturbate me again and sucked. Well, the inevitable happened! Almost immediately I came, still managing to produce a fair sized load, which she swallowed just like before. This time JT softened quite quickly, well it was the third of the day, and she let go. She didn’t keep my spunk in her mouth this time, it was all swallowed straight away with a smile. Now she looked up at me, “My but you are a fertile young man too,” she said then added more seriously, “but we are going to have to teach you some control.” I wasn’t really aware of what she was talking about, ‘control’, what did that mean?

She saw my confusion and laughed, “I’ll explain everything as we go along,” she said, “your clothes are there.” She’d laid out a loose summer shirt, with slacks and something I’d never experienced before, silk underpants. When I put these on I realised how sensuous silk is next to the skin. My love of silk underwear stemmed from that day. They were also very loose with a large slit in the front: they wouldn’t get in the way, not that I realised that fact immediately!

I dressed and I felt very grown up. Looking at myself in her mirror I saw a smart, reasonably good looking young man. I always had a mop of rather unruly hair which none of the women in my life seemed to mind. Angela always said it gave me a ‘gamin’ look, cheeky and very attractive. I felt confident as I looked in the mirror but then Angela stood up beside me. She looked absolutely gorgeous. You have to understand that, in those days, we were brought up to think that women should have some flesh on them. The movie stars of the day, Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, and the like were all well built and very, very shapely so that, for a boy, no young man, that was the ideal. Angela had that in spades! He body was shapely and the blouse and skirt she wore showed that. She must have felt my eyes on her reflection in the mirror as she stood next to me because she turned and looked back over her shoulder. Smiling, she said, “Well?”

Well indeed. Look, I gone to bed wanking over pictures of Marilyn Monroe for years, ever since I knew I could wank I suppose. If you’ve never seen pictures of her arse then you haven’t lived; she was almost perfection! The series of her in a swimsuit from quite early are wonderful.

From the back Angela was too. Her bottom was full, broad, and shapely and, looking at her reflection, with her looking over her shoulder, put me in mind of both Marilyn and my lady in suspenders. That was enough to cause serious interest by JT. Because of the looseness of both my slacks and underpants that became pretty obvious quickly.

She turned back and laughed as she looked down at my crotch, “My, my,” she said, “but you are strong aren’t you.”

I raised my eyebrows quizzically and she nodded down at JT. “It doesn’t take that long to recover does it?” Of course this embarrassed me no end and she laughed. “Don’t be silly,” she said, “I’m counting on it! Come on, let’s go downstairs and have a glass of wine together.”

This alone showed me that she was treating me as a grown up. I should mention wine really, mainly because it was not generally usual for working class people like us to drink wine in those days: beer and, occasionally, spirits yes, but wine very seldom. Our two families were different, primarily because of Stan, Angela’s late husband. He had been employed in the wine importing industry so it was always available in our two households. My mum allowed me to drink wine at a very young age and I had grown to enjoy it a great deal, and to have a fairly good tolerance. Usually however, at least for me as a young man, wine was taken with a meal, not socially. That was for adults. Mum and Angela would often drink a bottle on Sunday afternoons as they chatted and laughed. So Angela offering to drink wine with me socially like this clearly indicated my new status, a status that I realised and relished. I think she must have known all this and how I would feel. It was another way for her to show how grown up she considered me to be.

I followed her downstairs, into the kitchen and then the lounge. I must admit that I couldn’t keep my eyes of her bottom. The high heels of her ’shoes’ made her cheeks sway in a mesmerising fashion and my cock was definitely becoming interested again. I laugh now, he was an unruly beast in those early days but he was tamed in the end!

In the lounge she sat me in an arm chair, poured me a glass of wine, then sat opposite. As she sat and crossed her legs I got a glimpse of a stocking top, god she was sexy!

She smiled, obviously noticing my noticing of her, “Well young Michael,” she said, “you must be wondering what all that was about?”

I wasn’t really, I was quite happy to go where she told me and do what she wanted me too but I was surprised about the bath. “I didn’t expect to get into a bath,” I said somewhat shyly.

“No, knowing you boys,” she said with emphasis on the last word, “you don’t like bathing very much do you but,” she added with a smile, “a young man going to see a woman should always be well turned out.” Well, I said I’m not stupid so I immediately saw what she was getting at.

“You mean that I should always be clean and tidy when I see errrm, see you?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “when you see any woman. Well,” she added, “at least when you want to get to know them. Don’t worry too much when you come round here, the bath will always be there, but if you go out with a girl make yourself smart and presentable.” She smiled again, “Women like to think that their partner is taking some trouble.” There were a number of subtle messages here that hit me the next day. Mainly, she was saying that I should continue to go out with girls. I must admit that, by the end of this evening, I thought I wasn’t supposed to.

“Is that why I’m wearing these nice clothes?”

“Mmm,” she said, “if you feel good about yourself and how you look it’s likely she will as well. And you are a handsome young man you know, slim and athletic.” Of course this embarrassed me, “Don’t be silly, you mustn’t be embarrassed when you are complemented. Mike,” she went on more seriously, “know your good points and, and this is even more important, recognise your faults,” she smiled, “not that you’ve developed any really bad ones yet. Now, I want you to tell me about your experiences.” She fixed me with her eyes, “Have you done IT?”

“Errrmm, done what?” I said.

She laughed, “You know, you devil, have you had a girl yet?”

“Oh Angela!”

“Come on, don’t be silly, tell me. You have haven’t you?” She must have noticed my hesitation. “Have you?”

“Errm, no, no I haven’t. I errm,”

She smiled, “I know, bloody cricket! Have you had a girl touch it, that big beast of yours?”

I smiled shyly, “Yes, a couple.”

“Oh,” she said, “who were they?”

Now I’d never been one to brag about sex (mind you I didn’t have much to brag about!). Lots of the other boys told everybody what girls they’d had (or rather, in most cases, imagined they’d had) and what they had done with girls. I always thought most of it was fiction anyway so I never spoke about what I got up to with girls, not even to John, so now I wasn’t going to tell Angela.

“I don’t think I can say Angela, it wouldn’t be right.” Now she surprised me. She got up and kissed my forehead.

“Good,” she said, “a gentleman never betrays a woman’s confidence, I’m proud of you. Now, have you felt some tits?”

I was easier now, her saying that about not telling had made me confident, “Yes,” I said with a smile, “only a couple of girls but yes.” I looked in her eyes, “They felt nice!”

“Rascal,” she laughed. “What about kisses, I bet a handsome young man like you gets lots of kisses.”

Well I did actually. As I said, I rarely had trouble finding a dance partner or someone to go out with and I nearly always kissed my girlfriends. Well not girlfriends really, just partners. “Mmm,” I said smiling, “but none of them are like the last two with you.”

“I should hope not,” she said with a satisfied smile then she downed her glass of wine and said, “Come on, I need you upstairs!”

Not sure what she meant, I finished mine and followed her beautiful broad bottom up the stairs. She led me straight into her bedroom and, as soon as we were in, she turned and faced me. In her special slippers she was only a couple of inches shorter than me so our faces were almost level. I looked at her and I knew what she wanted. Her mouth was just open and her eyes were full, with what I didn’t know then, but I judged she wanted to be kissed. I suppose that nature takes it’s course because I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, fixing her mouth with mine as she offered it to me. It was a long kiss that stirred feelings deep in my loins. Her arms had enclosed me as we kissed and her hands wandered all over my back, even over my bottom.

She pulled away then another kiss, even longer and more passionate. I was having difficulty controlling myself by now, my cock was bursting against my slacks. Quick I know, but you must understand that I was being kissed by a woman now, not some inexperienced girl, and this woman knew how to kiss! I think we must have gone on like this for a few minutes, just breaking to breathe: it was fabulous. That you could get so much pleasure from a simple kiss!

Finally she pulled away. Breathlessly she said, “My, my, that was good but I need you now, quickly.” With that she laid back on her bed and looked in my eyes, “Take your slacks off,” she said in a sultry and throaty voice. I know now that she was very, very hot just then and needed some release. I did learn how difficult it had been for her to go slowly in the afternoon and earlier.

Her manner and her voice didn’t really allow for any hesitation on my part. It was an order, peremptory I know, but I had to do as she asked. My slacks dropped to the floor and JT, now released, sprang out of the loose silk drawers. “Oh yes,” she said, “come here.” Again I had no choice but to comply, not that I wanted to refuse of course. I had a fair idea of what was going to happen here, my worry was would I know what to do.

As I moved forward to the bed she opened her legs and her skirt rode up. She was knickerless! My breath almost stopped. I saw her, saw her femininity, her pussy (although I didn’t call it that then). I think I panicked because she quickly said, “Don’t worry, kneel in between. Mike, you’ll be OK.” I think she realised what my major fear would be. It wasn’t that I’d cum too soon, it was that I wouldn’t do it properly, but she was leading me through.

I knelt as she lifted her skirt higher. I didn’t notice then but she was wearing stockings and suspenders. Lucky I suppose because I probably would have shot my bolt too early had I noticed.

“Come up,” she said easing herself closer to me, “now lean forward. Take your weight on your arms.” I did and I felt the fuzz of her pubic hair on the end of my cock. As I look back on that moment I realise that I must have understood about holding back. It seemed important somehow, to ensure that I ‘performed’ to her expectations because expect something she certainly did. It must have been difficult for her, waiting there with her ‘engine’ running at full blast having to tutor a complete learner.

I felt her hand reach down between us and grasp my cock. I tried to think of something else because I was so, so close to my fourth of the day. I was thankful for the previous three because I’m sure I wouldn’t have held out had it not been for them. She moved my cock across her sex, I could feel the wet warmth of her. Then she had me in place and she let out a great sigh, her first orgasm as I later found out.

She managed a very weak, “Push Mike, push.” Nature showed the way. I knew what to do and I filled her up in one go. She wasn’t loose and it was like putting my cock into heaven. What is it about the vagina that feels so good? Her reaction was another deep sigh and a shiver that rippled across her whole body.

“Oh god yes,” she said, “move Mike, darling man, move.” I was stock still, revelling in the feeling of her love channel. Her words brought me back. ‘Man’ she had said! I had to live up to that. I knew I had to do something so I started. Back and forth, back and forth. I know now that there wasn’t much style but it was my first time after all. The feelings in my cock and balls were unbelievable. How could I ever wank again after this? Amazingly I didn’t cum straight away. Now this may sound silly but I think I was so surprised at the feelings that it allowed me to hold back. As I fucked her, Angela was moaning, her body shuddering regularly. I didn’t understand then what was happening to her, only that it was good. That pleased me, that I could do this for her but now, as I looked down at her glowing face, I realised that I was about to let go. Luckily, so was she.

She reached up and pulled my lips to hers. Her mouth devoured mine and her legs came up and trapped me deep inside her. It was my first experience of possession by a woman. A wonderful feeling but it can be a touch intimidating. Women in the throes of orgasm seem to be so powerful, so capable of anything. Throughout my life, as I’ve experienced this, I’ve sympathized with the male Black Widow Spider who is eaten by his mate after fertilising her.

All this movement was enough and I loosed my load inside her. At the same time her vagina pumped my cock, milking it of it’s life-giving seed. I could hardly move, so tightly did she hold me but I suddenly realised that I wasn’t wearing anything, no French Letter (that’s what we called condoms where I came from – don’t ask me why. I’ll call them condoms from now on.). I couldn’t do anything about it until she let me go and then it would be too late. I didn’t know about female birth control then. There was no pill of course but I later found that there were other things, other ways.

Finally, she let me go and I pulled my softening cock from her glorious heaven. I rolled to the side and lay there contemplating what had happened. Was that what it was like, rushed, quick, and all over so quickly – little did I know. I was so, so lucky that I had a teacher! I think the power of her orgasms must have tired Angela out and she needed a little rest before she recovered. She told me later that she have orgasmed four or five times while I fucked her. Incidentally, FUCK is a word that has been much abused. A good word that describes a perfectly natural function. I will use it in that manner, it’s sad it is considered only as a swear word.

So we both lay there for a few minutes in our own little worlds. Me amazed at the feelings of my first orgasm with a woman and her just recovering from her first male inspired orgasms for a long time. After a while she rolled over and looked down at me, the only time she did this I might add. She said that it was a man’s job to do this and look down on his partner! She smiled a big satisfied smile.

“That was lovely,” she said, “you did very, very well.” She knew, I think, that I did need some encouragement. Us males can quite easily get bothered about our performance. I think it’s something some women find difficult to believe.

I smiled back at her, “I can’t believe it,” I said, “it was so much better than . . .”

She laughed, “Better than a quick wank over your book?”

I blushed, would you believe, blushed after that, then I realised she was teasing, “Mmm,” I said, “much better.”

“Good,” she said with a sexy smile, “that means you’ll want to do it again?”

Well, I was young then and yes I know, I’d already cum four times but I knew I was good for some more – so did she it seems! “Oh yes,” I said but then I realised about not wearing a condom. That at least, I knew was important. “Angela,” I said sheepishly, “Angela I wasn’t wearing anything.” Now I was embarrassed but she didn’t let me off the hook. That was something she taught me early, don’t be afraid to talk about sex with your partner. Don’t hide things, say what you like, what you don’t like and don’t be afraid to PLAY!

She laughed, “You were wearing your underpants,” she said jokingly, forcing me to explain.

“No, no,” I said, “oh, you know, I wasn’t wearing a Frenchie, you’ll get pregnant.”

“That’s nice,” she said and I wondered what she meant, “but you don’t have to worry. My period starts on Monday so it’ll be all right.” Well I had some vague idea about women’s ‘problems’ but, honestly, I didn’t know what she was talking about. It must have been obvious. She laughed at my puzzlement, “I suppose you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about do you?” she said.

“No,” I said, “what’s a ‘period’?”

She caressed my cheek, “I can see that we’re going to have to do some theoretical work here,” she said with a smile, “before we get back to the practical! Now,” she carried on, “I need to tidy myself up,” she pecked my cheek, “you are a very fertile young man you know. I think I’ll have to get a supply of Durex!” Durex were the main suppliers of condoms in those days and the name was used rather like Hoover for vacuum cleaners. “Get dressed and make me a drink, some wine and lemonade I think, there’s some ice in the fridge.” She laughed, “You have one as well, it’ll cool us both down.”

So saying she left for the bathroom. I watched her bottom sway as she left the room and, oh the joys of youth, started to get hard again! Downstairs I made the drinks, feeling very grown up I might add, and waited in the lounge until Angela came down.

“Mmm,” she said with a smile, “I need this. That was pretty exciting Michael, I hope you enjoyed it.”

“Oh Angela, yes. Hell it was marvellous.”

She smiled again, “And it will get better,” she said as downed her drink.

“Better?” I couldn’t believe that it would get any better than what I’d just experienced.

“Yes,” she said, “better, much, much better when you learn how to do it properly.” She must have seen my face fall as I thought I hadn’t performed to her satisfaction. “Now, now,” she said caressing my cheek, “don’t get disheartened. You were fine. It was lovely for me as well. You’ll learn as we go along and it will get better.” She laughed, “It’s like most things. Practice makes perfect!” That made me laugh.

“Will I get practice?” I asked naively.

“Oh yes you dear young man, you’ll get plenty of practice.” Of course I didn’t realise then that a woman of Angela’s age can sometimes be at the peak of her sexual desires. I found that out as we went along however. “Now,” she said in a more businesslike fashion, “I think I need to tell you a little bit about women,” and she proceeded to tell all about menstruation and the associated problems.

“Does that mean that you don’t, you know, do IT then?”

“Michael, say what you mean.”

“That you don’t have sex then, don’t want it?” I know that sounds very bold but I was learning wasn’t I?

“No it doesn’t,” she said with a smile, “I like it then but that’s in the future,” she added, “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that just yet.” Of course that only whetted my appetite. What could she possibly mean?

Now she changed the subject, wanting me again I think. It had been a long time for her and she was almost insatiable over that night. “Come over here and sit next to me,” she said from the settee, so I did. “Now,” she went on leaning over to kiss my cheek, “let me see if I can interest you in my tits.” I must have looked shocked again but she took my hand and rested it on one of her lovely boobs. “You’ve felt the young version,” she said with a laugh, “now play with the real thing!”

I laughed as well and gently squeezed her breast. “Mmm, that’s nice. Open my blouse.” I did and saw her lovely chest supported by her bra. I stroked the exposed part of her boobs then she whispered, “You can kiss them if you want.” Well I didn’t know it but now I did, I wanted to, wanted to a lot. I bent my head to her chest and just licked the skin, savouring the taste of her. Her skin was smooth and slightly salty. While I was doing this her hands came up to my head and she held me gently there as she stroked my hair.

“Oh that’s nice, yes. Now darling, reach round and undo the bra.” She leant forward and I reached round fumbling. “It just unclips.” Great, it did – I wish they were all as easy! Of course, then I found out just how difficult bra’s can be because she had to help me ease her blouse off before I could loose the bra completely. I must say I was champing at the bit, I couldn’t wait to see her tits properly, remember I’d never seen them for real before so this was a first. Hers lived up to my expectation!

She was not a young woman so, obviously, her boobs sagged a bit, but not much. They were fairly firm and had the most marvellous nipples. Large, almost as big as a hazelnut, atop a wonderfully coloured areola. I think that this is where my love of large nipples first arose. Bending my head back down I continued to kiss and lick these wonderful creations of mother nature. Strange isn’t it. We start by sucking at them and then, as we grow, we can’t wait to get back to doing it again!

“The nipples Mike, the nipples!” she said breathlessly. So I moved to first one, then the other. Kissing them first, I then sucked gently on them. Oh how bloody marvellous they felt in my mouth.

“Use your tongue Michael, your tongue!” Another breathless request. It must have been difficult for her to teach as we went along! So, heeding her request, I sucked and, at the same time used my tongue to wash her nipples, first one then the other. I realised, I think, that I had to attend to both so, after a while, when I left one with my mouth I used my fingers to massage the other. She seemed to enjoy this.

I don’t know how long I worshipped her there. I was dimly aware of the occasional shudder that rocked her body and of her hands holding my head gently to her breast. After a while she was ready to move on. “Your hand Mike darling, put it between my legs.” I raised my head from her tits and looked at her. She was perspiring now, glowing I suppose you would say, and her eyes were heavily lidded, sensual – although I only learned to recognise that look later.

“No, darling, don’t stop kissing and sucking. Just use your hand.” I moved my hand to her knee then upwards, drawing her skirt at the same time. I remembered then that she hadn’t worn any knickers before and my excitement level increased.

“Oh yes, that’s right. Yes, oh yes.” My hand had found out that she was wearing them now. They were wet: I was to find out why later!
“Oh you devil, yes. Stroke me there, oh yes. Push now. Oh fuck yes. Push – suck my tits.” So I did, bending my head to feast again at the same time as stroking and pushing at her pussy. I didn’t really know what I was doing down there but she seemed to enjoy it.

“Move your hand inside. Oh god, yes, yes, yes!” I felt her heat, her wetness and was suddenly excited myself. She bucked now and I knew something important was happening. She hadn’t explained about the female orgasm but my hand was suddenly soaked with her juices. My cock was hard throughout all this but, strangely, not close to cumming. I suppose I was fascinated by what was happening to her.

Finally, I suppose her orgasm passed and she pushed my head and my hand away. “Mmm,” she said with a lovely smile, “that was good, very good indeed.” Then she reached down and felt my cock. “Good,” she said with another smile, “still charged! Come on, bed time!”

This surprised me, go to bed. It was already late and I felt I should be getting back home to mum. See if she was OK. Bloody silly really, of course she was OK but, you see, now I was a ‘man’ I felt responsible for her.

“What about mum, I can’t leave her on her own. She’s expecting me back.”

She smiled as she tidied herself up, “It’s OK Mike, she knows you’ll be staying here all night. She’ll be fine. Come on, I need to get you into bed!” she said as she led me upstairs.

This seemed OK to me, if Angela said mum was OK then it was all right and I was mesmerised by her gorgeous arse as I followed her. Truth to tell, I couldn’t wait. I wanted to get my cock back into that wonderful heaven between her legs!

When we got to the bedroom she turned to face me and began to undo my shirt. “I don’t think we need any clothes now Michael,” she said as she stripped it off. Then my trousers and underpants. I kicked my slippers off. “Your turn,” she said with a coquettish glance, “strip me off!” She’d put her blouse back on but not her bra so soon her boobs were free. Not being familiar, then, with female attire I couldn’t find the catch for her skirt but she helped me out and that soon fell to the floor. She turned me round and sat me on the bed. Now my head was nearly level with her sex. “Knickers now,” she said with a smile.

I took a deep breath and a gulp. I was going to see it, see it properly because earlier I’d only got a quick look. Putting a hand each side I slowly pulled them down. JT went into overdrive, shooting to full stretch straight away. I pulled them down and she stepped out and stood there in front of me, legs slightly parted. Women didn’t tend to shave in those day but she was trimmed, I noticed, and you could see the lips of her vagina – not that I knew it as that then. She was beautiful, wonderful.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, awestruck by the femininity.

“Thank you,” she said softly. I had to touch her, to feel her body, so I did the same to her that she’d done to me earlier. I ran my hands over her breasts and stomach, then felt the shape of her body, running my hands over her hips. I knew what I wanted and for the first time I told her what to do.

“Turn round,” I said. I was boiling. I wanted to see her arse. If it was anything like the view from the front, christ, I’d cum just looking. She must have known that, realising early I think that I had a bottom fixation.

Smiling, she said, “No, you young hellion. That’s for later if you are a really good boy,” then she pushed me back and fell on the bed beside me. “You’re going to fuck me now,” she said, “fuck me long and hard with that lovely cock of yours.” I must have looked surprised. “But this time we’re going to take it a little slower.” She laid on her back, “Now,” she said, “lay beside me. No, on your side. That’s right, now you can look down on me.” I realised what she wanted and it was natural. Laying on my side, my head resting on one arm, I could look down at her face and her whole body. I never forgot that position. It became my starting point for making love to a woman in bed.

“You’ve got a free hand,” she said with a smile, “use it!” So I did, stroking her face, her neck, and then her breasts. “Mmm,” she said, “doesn’t take you long to learn does it?”

“No,” I said with a smile, then leant forward and kissed her mouth, her cheeks, and her neck. “You’re so lovely,” I said and I meant it. She was. She was my first woman and I never forgot her. Oh, of course she wasn’t that good looking, I’m no fool, but she was the first and she was bloody good!

“And you are a lovely young man. I’m very lucky,” she said with a smile then she reached down for my cock. “Mmm,” she said, “I see he’s on parade again?”

I took a deep breath, “Can we, you know, again?” I just wanted to get my cock back into that wonderful tunnel between her legs.

“You want to fuck me again do you?” I blushed. “Silly! Say it. I told you. Don’t be afraid to say anything in here. Anything you want. If I can give it to you I will.” I didn’t realise the import of that just then either!

Nervously I said, “Angela, I want to fuck you again, can I?”

Smiling, she said, “Of course you can but first you must suck my tits for a bit and use your fingers down there. You can explore if you like.” So I did. My left hand crept across her stomach and to the delicate bush of her pubic hair. Naturally my hand covered her sex and my middle finger the slit of her vagina.

“Mmm, nice. Rub gently. Mmm, good. That middle finger, yes, that one. Yes, push it . . . . innnnnnnn. Oh yes, yes. Move, move. Mmm, that’s nice. Tits now,” she said. My head moved to her boobs and nipples, sucking and licking.

“Mmm, nice. Yes. Ohhhhhhh, that’s good,” she said as I moved my fingers across her pussy. Delving further down I felt another indentation and pushed. It felt tiny, tiny and tight. It was her arsehole but, of course, I didn’t know that then.

“Oooooooooo, naughty boy! Back up – that’s for later.” I had no idea what she meant but I did as I was told and went back to her pussy, pushing my middle finger inside. “Mmm, in and out. Yes that’s right, yes. Bite them Mike, bite them and dra . . . . g, oh shit, yes drag your teeth over the . . . . m. Oooohhhhh yes, yes,” she moaned followed by a shudder. Another orgasm!

After a while she came down from her high and, lifting my head in her hands, said, “Time for your fun now. In between my legs, come on. That’s right,” she continued as I moved between her open legs, “just kneel for a minute.” I think she needed a moment or two to catch her breath but it was useful for her tutoring! “Look at me Mike, look down.” Now I know it sounds silly but I didn’t look at her – I was shy! Now I did and, of course, got a completely different view from before when she stood.

I could see the shape of her sex, her vagina glistening wet with her juices and, as she opened her legs further and bent her knees, inside as the vagina widened. It was fascinating and below, well below was her arsehole, her anus, her back door. I realised that that must have been what I found with my finger. Even then, so inexperienced, I had a dark desire.

Now, of course, looking back at my life I wonder. Was I born with this desire? Was there something about me? Was it just that photograph. I don’t know. I often wondered whether it was a homosexual thing but, to be perfectly truthful, I’ve never looked at a man, or boy come to that, and felt any sexual attraction. My focus has always been on women and, I won’t say sadly but it has bothered me sometimes, primarily on their bottoms and their back doors. I’ve had anal sex with almost every women I’ve ever been with, and I’ve tried it with them all. A few wouldn’t have it: size can be a disadvantage in anal sex! Most enjoyed it when it was done with care and consideration. I know I did.

Anyway, this dark desire just now was not really focussed. I just enjoyed looking at the star with the fair ring of muscle remembering how it felt around my finger. Angela drew me from my reverie. She thought that I was looking at her pussy. She laughed, “Wake up,” and she reached for my proudly standing cock. “Now for some practical lessons in fucking,” she said with a smile. “Take you cock in your right hand and don’t you dare wank,” she laughed. “If you shoot off before you get inside I’ll tan your arse.” I does show how fixated on bottoms I was because I thought that would be quite good, particularly if she was wanking my cock at the same time!

“Good,” she said as I did as I was told. “Now, lean forward, take your weight on your left arm. You mustn’t smother a woman, Michael, well not unless she asks you to. It’s much better for you both if you hold off.” My eyes were level with hers now and I could feel the gentlest touch of her pubic hair on my cock head. “Mmm, you are doing well. Now use your hand to move your cock up and down along my snatch (another English word for c - - -). Oooohhhhh yes, that’s nice, mmm. Yes! Ooops! That’s right,” she said as my cock found it’s way in. I was ready now to do as before, just plunge right in to the hilt but she was having none of it.

“Don’t you move now! STILL!” Now I was like a car revving with the brakes on. “Good, oh that’s nice. You’ve got to give me time to enjoy it,” she said with a smile. “Mmm, nice. Now move, SLOWLY! Back and forth, gently. Oh, oh, oh, yes. Mmmmmm.” She took a deep breath, “Oh yes you devil, that IS good. Now a little deeper, yes, a bit more. STOP!” This was agony, real agony for me but it did have the effect of enabling me to hold on to my orgasm. I was concentrating on listening to her and on pleasing her. It was the most valuable lesson I ever learnt I think! Slowly, slowly, entering a woman like this, certainly sometimes, prolongs her enjoyment, so Angela told me in those early days. It also meant, and still means, that I could hold on to my ejaculation. Not so much of a problem then but over the years I have needed to ‘keep my powder dry’ as my ability to recover has diminished.

This tutoring went on until I was fully inside Angela and I could feel her pubic hairs nestling with mine. The feeling was exquisite, wet and warm but a wetness and a warmth unlike anything else. I suppose we’re designed to experience this, I don’t know. I only know that the vagina feels like nothing else, and I can say that even though I prefer the rectum!

“Oh, that’s very good, good. Now,” she said fixing me with her eyes, “fuck the arse off me you young stallion but don’t you shoot to soon. I want you to last a while.” So I did. I was young, I was healthy, and I was fit. I thought of anything rather than what I was doing at that moment as I moved in and out of her body. My batting averages, my bowling action, Surry beating Middlesex. On and on, I don’t know how long I managed but it wore Angela out! Most of the time she was moaning things like, “Oh yes, you devil. Yes, keep doing it. Harder, harder!” Evidently she had three major orgasms while I fucked her that second time. Finally she pulled my head down and kissed me hard on the lips. Her hands went round my bottom and a finger probed my arsehole and pushed inside.

SHIT, oh my god, what a feeling.

It was a if she’d lit a firecracker in my balls. I fucked into her so hard that I moved her up the bed and, as she finger fucked my tight arsehole, I shot my spunk into her. Considering it was, I can’t remember, my fifth of the day, I came for ages. All the time she was in my arse. Finally I was spent and she let me go. I rolled of her breathless and, I was surprised at this, absolutely knackered. Not so knackered that I didn’t want to hold her however, hold her and thank her for that short piece of heaven that she was introducing me to. I knew then that I’d never wank again; nothing could replace the feelings I’d had this evening.

“Oh Angela, Angela, I don’t know what to say.” She held me back and laughed, boy did she have some stamina but she had been without for a long time and I have found that women do have more stamina than me.

“Don’t say anything. Did you enjoy that?”

“Oh god yes. When you, you know . . .”

“Stuck my finger up your arse? You can say it you know.”

I smiled beginning to understand that this language was itself sexy and exciting, “Yes, when you stuck your finger up my arse, it was unbelievable. I thought my, you know, were going to explode.” I just couldn’t get used to using the words first!

She laughed, “Your balls I suppose you mean?”

“Yes, I thought my balls would explode. Is it always like that when you do that?”

“Mmm,” she said, “sticking a finger up a man’s arse always makes him cum. It’s to do with the prostate,” she added although it meant nothing to me then. I understand soon enough! With that she started to kiss me again, as I said she was rather insatiable that night. Now her tongue insinuated itself into my mouth and found mine. I didn’t need any teaching here, mine entwined with hers and they danced together. I felt her hand round my cock which, and I am ashamed to say this, did not immediately respond. Well, come on, five times and the last, well: it was bloody powerful.

“Mmm,” she said with a smile, “absent on parade!” I was distraught. I’d let her down. I’m sure she didn’t feel that and, anyway, she knew she could raise the young stallion again!

“Looks like you need a tongue bath,” she said with a smile, “lie back.” She pushed me back on the bed and knelt beside me, head level with my cock. Then she was bending forward and I could feel her tongue licking my soft cock. “Mmm, you taste nice,” she said. I suppose she could taste herself, cum, and precum. She seemed to like it because soon my whole cock was in her mouth: although not for long because I started to harden quickly. She pulled her mouth away but continued to stroke my cock and tickle my balls.

“Last one for tonight I think. Keep yourself hard,” she said as she turned face down on the bed. She parted her legs, stuck her bottom in the air, and bent her legs. I lay there looking at her wondering what came next.

“I think you might like this,” she said with a smile, “kneel up behind me.”

I did and I nearly shot my load. God she was gorgeous. Her arse, oh fuck her arse was magnificent. “Don’t you dare shoot,” she said, “you’ve got to fuck me yet. God we’re going to have to wear you out before you start exploring back there aren’t we.” She laughed, “Come on then, just like when you look at your picture, stick it in and fuck me. Enjoy yourself, you’ll be a long time.”

I leaned forward and looked at her bottom. Enormous bottom cheeks separated by that exquisite valley of pleasure. Her arsehole looking tight and tiny above her very wet vagina. Strange desires were surfacing inside me as I looked down at her like this, as they always did, but not strange now.

“Quickly,” she said breathlessly, “fuck me!”

I did. My cock found her sex from the back and remembering her earlier lesson I took my time entering her. She was right, although I was excited I didn’t seem near to cumming. I suppose it was the sixth time after all. As I rocked back and forth inside that cavern of pleasure I couldn’t help looking at her anus, her arsehole. It would flex as I fucked her, opening the tiniest amount as I drove home, then closing. I just had to touch it. It was awkward to do it with my finger so I used my thumb just touching the entrance at first.

Angela felt it straight away. “You devil, oh you young devil!” I pulled my thumb away. I thought I’d upset her. “Oh no young man, now you’ve found it don’t ignore it. Wet your thumb. Mmm, that’s right. Gently now, circle . . . oh yes, yes.” I was used my wet thumb to circle the rim of her anus watching it flex as I fucked her. Now I knew I had to put my thumb in there so, as I drove home and her anus opened a tiny bit I pushed my thumb into her.

“Oh fuck, fuck. Yes, more you devil, oh fuck yes!” Before I knew it she’d pushed herself back even harder and had half my thumb up her arse.

“All, push it all in. Your thumb. Oh fuck, Mike, yes, work it now, work it. Aaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhh,” she moaned as I pushed harder with both cock and thumb and a massive orgasm rocked her body. Her vagina contracted and what with that and the exquisite pressure on my thumb, I shot my sixth load of the day into her. Not so much this time but it was just as wonderful. I had this sudden thought, where it came from I don’t know – how could I? What would it be like if my cock was where my thumb was. I didn’t have time to think about this because Angela fell to her bed in an almost daze. I quickly lay beside her.

“Angela, Angela, oh I’m sorry. Are you all right. I didn’t know. Oh Angela.” I was distraught, I thought I’d hurt her or something.

She reached for me, “Come here you young devil. You darling creature. Oh my god, you are wonderful!” and with that she started kissing my face, my neck, my eyes. “You are a hellion,” she said as she caught her breath. She must have noticed my puzzlement and she smiled, “You know how you felt when I put my finger in your arse?” she said. I nodded. “Well it was like that for me when you put yours in mine!”

“You didn’t mind?”

“Oh fuck no! I didn’t mind.” Now she fixed me with her eyes. “Did you like it?”

“Mmm,” I said thinking she meant the position, “fucking you like that was lovely.”

“No,” she said, “I meant your thumb in my arse?” Now I wasn’t sure how to answer this. Of course I’d liked it, it felt fabulous and I couldn’t but wonder how my cock would feel there but, well, I didn’t know did I?. “Come on,” she smiled, “you can tell me.” I suspect she knew really, “Don’t be shy.”

“Yes,” I said, “yes. I liked it a lot. It was tight,” I finished breathlessly because, believe it of not, I was getting excited again. Mind you only me this time, JT was out of it now, finished, unable to function without a bit of a rest.

She cuddled up to me, kissed me, then said, “Would you like to do it there?”

Again I didn’t understand, naïve twerp! “I . . . err, I’m not sure what you mean.”

She took a deep breath and smiled. I think it was exciting her as well. “Would you like to stick your cock up my arse?”

Oh god, yes, fucking yes I would BUT. “Isn’t that what queers do?”

“Mmm, I suppose it is,” she said with a smile, “sometimes anyway.”

“I’m not queer,” I said in a deep voice.

She laughed out loud, “No, no,” she said still laughing, “after this evenings performance I don’t think we’ll ever think you are. Anyway, it’s not what you do that defines that, it’s who you do it with. Seriously,” she continued fixing me with her eyes, “would you like to stick your cock up my arse?”

I swallowed, took a deep breath, and said, “Yes Angela, yes I would. I would love to do that but . . . ” I looked down at a struggling JT.

She laughed again, “I think he deserves a rest don’t you.” She kissed me. “You are a bold young man Michael and you will have my arse, as often as you like, but not just yet. There are a couple more lessons before you get there. Still,” she ended with a smile, “it’s something to look forward to isn’t it? Come on devil, let’s wash each other and get some sleep.” She grasped my tackle, “Perhaps he’ll be on duty in the morning?”

Mmm, I thought, he usually is. I almost always awoke with an enormous hard-on in those days so I hoped that Angela wasn’t going to be disappointed! So we adjourned to the bathroom where I washed her pussy. That was an experience, and she washed my cock. I enjoyed that as well. Now, of course, I went to John’s room to go to bed.

“No,” she said, “silly. You sleep in here now,” and she led me back into her bedroom.

“Errrmm, what about John?”

“He won’t be here when you are will he?” I must have looked puzzled. “Come on Michael, you’re not that stupid!”

“Oh,” I said suddenly falling in. He wouldn’t be would he, he’d be with mother.

“Come on dunce, bed! And sleep!” So we did and I slept like a log. I did dream; of tits, of lovely eyes, of that wonderful view from the back, and of a tight little star with a ring of muscle.
I awoke to a wonderful feeling between my legs. Soft hands were stroking a massive morning erection. Opening my eyes I looked down to see Angela kneeling at my side, stark naked, playing with my cock. One hand gently wanked my erection whilst the other tickled and stroked my balls. What a way to wake up!

“Morning Michael, you rapscallion. What do you call this?” she asked nodding down at my tool.

I laughed picking up her light hearted manner, something else I learned in those early days: sex is FUN and it should be treated as such. “I think it’s called ‘piss proud’,” I said with a smile, “It’s like that most mornings.”

“Oh it is, is it,” she said with a smile, “perhaps I ought to come round and wake you up every morning!”

“That would be nice,” I said getting into the spirit.

“Mmm, it would but not really practical. People might talk and we can’t have that.” I don’t think she meant it as such but I saw it as a warning that our liaison must remain the secret of the four of us. Camberwell wasn’t really ready for this sort of thing just yet. “Now, to business,” she said with a smile and she concentrated back on my cock and my hardening balls.

She gently wanked me very slowly, first with one hand then with both. It was heaven! She had this way of stopping when she thought I was about to cum that kept me hard for ages.

“Can you go twice straight away?” she said eyes wide open in anticipation.

Well, I knew I could in the mornings. The first cum would be quick with not much spunk, the second longer and with more. It was a morning thing. “Yes,” I said with a smile, “yes, twice is easy!” Ah me, the confidence of youth!

“You rascal,” she smiled as she bent her head and kissed my cock head. “Mmm, this is the best lollipop I’ve eaten in a long time,” she said as she licked up and down the shaft, “lovely!” Then her tongue probed the end, poking in the tiny pee-hole and licking all round before her mouth engulfed the head and bathed it in her warm saliva. Her tongue continued it’s work inside her mouth as she worked my cock deeper inside. Soon four inches were invading her mouth and I was beginning to move with her as her mouth and hands worked their magic.

“Oh Angela, soon, soon.”

“Mmm,” was her only response before orgasm hit.

“Oh god, fuck, sorry. Oh shit,” was all I could manage as she tried to suck almost non-existent spunk from my cock. It was piss proud you see, and sometimes it’s almost painful to cum like that. The pleasure was intense because, I think, it was so close to hurting. She stopped sucking quickly, realising I think, the problem but she kept wanking me gently.

Of course I didn’t go down, just remained at the regulation 8½ inches standing proud. “Oh you lovely man,” she said then she smiled and squatted over my body, “my turn now!” and holding my cock upright, she lowered herself down on me.

“Oh Angel . . . a, oh god,” I said as my cock was captured by her warm, wet sheath. “Oh fuck!” By now she was halfway down or, to put it another way, I was halfway inside her.

“Fuck yes indeed,” she said with a marvellous smile and a deep breath as she sank down the rest of the way. “Oh shit, you are a big boy. Oh fucking hell but that’s gooooooooooood!!” Now she leant forward and started to bounce up and down on me. I know now that most women get a particular buzz out of being on top but I must say that, of all the positions, I find it the least enjoyable – even for anal sex! Now, however, this was new: the first time, so I did enjoy it. Most of all, I think, I enjoyed watching Angela lose herself in her orgasm (her first that is!). She was really just using me, my cock, to pleasure herself. I didn’t mind in the least, hell she had certainly pleasured me enough. To see her enjoying me so much gave me a buzz. Not so much a sexual one, although that was there as well, more just a happy realisation that I, me, Mike, was the instrument of her pleasure.

That was another lesson I learnt early on: that you can get as much pleasure out of watching your partner enjoy themselves as getting pleasure yourself. To bring my partner to orgasm, even without doing so for myself, brought me pleasure from that date. It was a valuable lesson.

So Angela bounced up and down and orgasmed but she didn’t get off. She wasn’t finished yet. To give herself a different feeling I suppose she now leant backwards, taking her weight on her arms, and started bouncing again. This was fun, different because my cock was at a different angle. It wasn’t long before she was going again.

“Oh you wonderful young man. Oh yes, fuck me, fuck me hard!” I was moving with her now, trying to thrust into her as she thrust down and it was having an effect because she quickly came again, this time flooding my pubes with liquid. I thought she might finish now. I was enjoying it, the sensation on my cock was wonderful but, being piss proud, I was unlikely to cum without direct stimulation. Well, she provided stimulation now all right.

She pulled herself upright and looked into my eyes. She knew, I think, that cumming for me would be difficult – she was aware of the problem but she had an answer. Lifting herself slightly she swivelled right round on my cock and faced away. Then she leant forward and began to bounce again.

I nearly came straight away. There, in front of my eyes, was her bottomhole, as before opening slightly as she pushed down. She knew, she knew the effect this would have on me. Looking over her shoulder she said, “Wet your finger Michael. You know what to do with it!” She continued to bounce up and down. In just that moment I wished she was bouncing up and down with my cock in her arse but now I sucked my middle finger and presented it to her arsehole.

“Oh you devilish cad,” she said, “oh yes stick it in there you rascal. Oh Goooo oooo d. Yes!! Oh you devil!! Stick it right in. Yes, yes, deeeeeeeeeper. Aaaaggghhhh. Oh you bastard you. Oh fuck. Yes fuck my arsehole with your finger, fuck my cunt with your cock!!” That was the only time I ever heard her use that word, just shows how hot she was.

Well, it was too much for me. I just let go and my spunk shot past whatever block there might have been and filled her. She must have felt it because she screamed just then. It seemed she had an orgasm far stronger that the others. She did, she told me some time later, but that was because she liked being fucked in the arse and my finger there had brought her on no end.

She fell forward on the bed, my limp dick laying pathetically sideways on my loins. Then she crawled up level with me. “My word but you are a very quick learner. That was good, very good.” She smiled, “I can see that we’re going to have to introduce that lovely cock of yours to my arse after my period aren’t we?” I had a lump in my throat. I knew, just knew, that that was going to be something very, very good.

I only managed to nod ‘yes’ and she smiled, “I’ve got this idea that you’re going to like that! Now let’s freshen up then you can make me a cup of tea while I cook you a man’s breakfast!” I felt great, ‘a man’s breakfast’ she had said, a man! And I was bloody hungry I can tell you! So I relieved the pressure on my bladder, dressed, and went downstairs to make the tea, incongruous I know but that was what it was like.

Angela came down about twenty minutes later. I was sitting at the table in the kitchen and she came up behind and hugged me, “Bad news I’m afraid,” she said with a smile. “You’ll have to wait a week for more ‘jobs’.”

I laughed, “Give me a chance to recover.”

She laughed back, “I don’t think you need that long you randy rascal you! Do you want your book back to tide you over?”

I turned in the chair and reached for her, pulling her mouth down onto mine, “Not on you life,” I said as I drew away, “but I would like to see you wearing stockings and suspenders.”

She laughed out loud, “My, bloody my,” she said, “but you are a cheeky bugger. OK,” she carried on, “I will but I bet you cum before you get anywhere near me!” She was right, I did! But more of that later. “Now let me get you something to eat, you need your strength. Are you playing today?”

“Mmm, 1 o’clock start,” and with that we chatted about the match as she fixed breakfast. She provided me with and enormous feast, bacon, eggs, beans, tomatoes, even black pudding which I can’t stand but I ate anyway. She said it helped with spunk production! I don’t know how true that is, I didn’t really have a problem at that age but I always ate it to keep her happy. I offered to help clear up after breakfast but she shooed me off, telling me to go home and have a rest before the game. I kept the shirt and slacks she’d given me as well. She said that, as I was a man now I needed nice clothes, not the sort of stuff boys wear.

I left the house feeling, well feeling grown up. I’d been to bed with an attractive woman, I’d fucked her, and I’d pleased her, made her happy, and slept all night with her before doing the same in the morning. I wasn’t cocky. My overwhelming feeling was one of pride that I had achieved her pleasure but that was tempered by a feeling of how lucky I was. None of this had come about because of me but because of the people around me so I was aware that I shouldn’t get too conceited. I know that, throughout my life, some people have seen me as arrogant but those who know me well know that I have always taken that early advice that Angela gave me, know your good points but know your faults as well.

I was aware that things between mum and me might be a bit difficult. I’d had time to think about everything while waiting for Angela and I was determined that there wouldn’t be any barriers between us. Look, my mother and I had always been close and I wasn’t about to risk that! So as I walked home, three times round the block again, I worked out what to say.

I opened the front door with my key and shouted, “It’s me mum.”

“In the kitchen darling,” she shouted back.

She was sitting there drinking a cup of tea. Now, I don’t know why, but she looked exceptionally fabulous that morning. I’ve said she was younger than Angela and she looked it. Mum could pass for 29 if she put her mind to it. She wore her auburn hair shoulder length in a fairly simple style considerably in advance of styles of the time. She had more makeup on than usual as well. I suppose I noticed her more because of what had happened. I should say that I didn’t fancy her like that – she was my mum. It was just that she looked particularly lovely and now that I had experienced a woman I noticed her in a slightly different way I suppose.

I walked up to her and hugged her, kissing her cheek as I did so. We’d always kissed and hugged each other since I was little and it hadn’t stopped as I grew. Mum was very tactile, she liked to be hugged and kissed. Looking back now I think she was trying to, I don’t know, impress me as a woman as well as being my mother. She told me much later that she felt jealous of me and Angela just then because of how she felt about me. But more of that at the right time.

“Hi mum,” I said with a smile, “how are you?”

She smiled back, “I’m fine,” then with a raise of her eyebrows, “and you?” I blushed because I knew she knew of course. “Silly,” she said digging me in the ribs, “well?”

“Oh mum, mum, hell it was wonderful!”

“I knew it would be,” she said with a laugh, “what about Angela. Is she happy?”

“I think so mum. She was certainly happy earlier on.”

Mum laughed out loud, “I can see that she’s going to keep me interested this afternoon!” I must have looked puzzled. “She’ll tell me all about you this afternoon,” she said with another smile.

“Did you do that with John?” I asked. I wasn’t being difficult or anything. I just wanted mum to know that I understood. Nor was I jealous of him. At that time, as I said, I didn’t see my mum as a sexual partner: she was my mum. Angela was starting to fulfil that role just then.

She looked embarrassed, “Oh Mike. I’m sorry,” she said and she looked as if she would cry.

“Mum, mum, I told you. You don’t have to be ashamed in front of me. I love you.”

She looked up at me with something in her eyes I would have recognised months later but didn’t now. “I love you as well,” she said tearfully, “and I’m sorry, so sorry, that I did this but Mike, oh Mike, you can’t know what it’s like for a woman like me.”

I smiled, “No, no I can’t but I’m growing up now mum and, even though I don’t know what it’s like, I’m beginning to understand. Oh mum, enjoy John.” I laughed, “If it’s anything like last night with Angela I’m sure he is enjoying himself.”

She was easing now as I explained how I felt and she smiled, “Oh yes Mike, he is enjoying himself and yes, I did and do tell Angela how we get on.”

I laughed, “Good, I hope I live up to him.”

Again that look, “I know you will,” she said breathlessly. “Now,” she went on apparently wanting to change the subject, “you’re playing this afternoon aren’t you?”

“Mmm, 1 o’clock start.”

“Look,” she said, “it’s nearly 11 now. Go and have a lie down,” she smiled, “you need your strength. I’ll make you a salad so you can have something before you go if you want.”

“Mmm, good idea,” I said pecking her cheek, “thanks mum.” So off I went and I did sleep until she woke me about 12.15. Downstairs for a quick bite to eat and then off to the match. The ground wasn’t far away and I walked there with my gear. I was bursting with confidence. I suppose it was the sex, I don’t know but I did have the most fabulous afternoon. I scored 80 not out and took four wickets. We wrapped up the match by 6.30 and I was home by 7.

I would always jump straight in the bath when I got back after cricket. The changing facilities in those days were Spartan in the extreme so a nice hot bath at home was preferable. Letting myself in I shot straight upstairs with a cheery, “I’m back mum,” as I passed the lounge. I knew that Angela would stay for dinner tonight, she often did on Sundays. Sometimes she would cook dinner, usually a good roast because I was inevitably starving after the game. I didn’t hear anything from them as I ran my bath, stripped off and sank into the water, soothing my, now just beginning to tighten, muscles.

I think I must have dozed off and been having the most exciting dream because I was woken by the sound of giggling. Opening my eyes I looked up to see mum and Angela standing there lo