Finally. We were finally able to hire a student intern at the public library at which I am a reference
librarian. A recent renovation project had required us to place thousands of books in basement storage. Now that the renovation was completed, the books needed to be reshelved. It was a monumental job, one that had triggered the retirement of my coworker, a woman in her early sixties. We needed a person with more stamina and had recruited a student from a local college.
Margaret had just begun college as a freshman. Bookish and serious, Margaret nevertheless had looks. Her long blond hair and baby-blue eyes were captivating. Her smile could light up a cave.
Along with beauty, Margaret possessed the gift of gab. She would keep me apprised of goings on in her life. Her coursework occupied most of her time. She admitted not being athletic, preferring Dickinson to dodgeball, Longfellow to lacrosse. Margaret loved animals, especially dogs. In time, we became coworker buddies.
One day the subject of boyfriends came up and I asked Margaret if she was seeing anyone. Her face fell and reddened a bit.
“It’s alright if you’re not. Your grades should be your priority now, not boys,” I counseled.
Her blush subsided. “There’s a guy I like,” she confided.
Silence ensued.
“Would you like to tell me about him?”
“He graduated college in May.”
“Where did you meet him?” I didn’t mean to pry, but I sensed she wanted to talk and needed a push.
“At the animal shelter where I volunteer.”
Margaret hesitated, then continued.
“Patrick is a real man. He’s smart, funny, well-dressed, and well-spoken. Patrick is an accountant and works in his family’s business. His family owns several specialty supermarkets.” She paused. “They have money.”
“Does he know you like him?”
“No. But he likes me. Or at least he did.”
“He did? I don’t understand.”
Margaret hesitated again. “He asked me to accompany him to the volunteer appreciation banquet. I was noncommittal.”
“Why?”
“Too shy? A coward? I wish I knew,” she replied, her voice forlorn.
Having missed some opportunities in life myself, I sympathized with her and my male protective instinct kicked in.
“Stop beating yourself up. You’re going to fix this.”
“How?”
“Do you have his phone number?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You’re going to call him right now. You’re going to apologize if you hurt his feelings. And you’re going to tell him you’d be delighted to go to the banquet with him.”
“I can’t do that,” she pleaded. “What if he hangs up on me?”
“He won’t.” Margaret was still too innocent to understand that with her beauty, guys would accept her apology and forgive her.
We were alone in the basement, out of earshot of everyone. I pulled her phone from her pocketbook.
“Unlock it.”
She held it up to her pretty face and her home screen appeared. Scrolling through her contacts, I found a Patrick.
“Is this him?” Margaret nodded.
I pressed the icon and her phone dialed. I stepped away to allow her some privacy.
Margaret spoke coquettishly. She acknowledged her impoliteness of being apathetic to his invitation and apologized. Margaret continued by informing him that she’d love to go to the banquet with him if he would forgive her and if he was still available. All seemed to go well; Patrick soon had Margaret laughing and they stayed talking for half an hour.
Margaret rang off all smiles. “Patrick will pick me up on Saturday evening. Thank you so much for insisting I call him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Margaret and I had grown close over the months and I invited her to my house for lunch Saturday, the day of the banquet. Margaret spoke little as we ate. She looked distraught.
“Why the worried face?” I inquired as we finished eating.
A litany of reasons poured forth. “Patrick is out of my league,” she explained. “I have no experience with guys. None. Patrick is older than me. I’m sure he’s known women. I’m just a girl. How can I compete with women?”
“That’s no cause for concern…” I tried to reassure her, but she cut me off.
“I’m an eighteen-year-old virgin, a total nerd,” Margaret cried in exasperation. “My friend has had two boyfriends. I’ve had none,” she lamented. “I’m going to die a virgin,” she moaned.
“Margaret, Patrick will fall in love with you. You’ll make him fall for you.”
“And how will I do that?” she demanded.
“You’ll be yourself. And you’ll use feminine guile along with the assets that nature provided you.”
Margaret glared at me. “I don’t want him to love me just for sex. I want him to love me for who I am.”
“I’m certain Patrick will love you for who you are, but compatibility in intimacy goes a long way toward fostering love.”
“There’s more to a relationship than sex, you know.”
“Of course there is. But the hard truth is that people want satisfying intimacy from their partner. You don’t want to lose Patrick due to inexperience in love. If you don’t get him, some conniving hussy will. She’ll be the winner; you’ll be the loser.”
She pondered that for a moment. “Fine. But that doesn’t solve my problem.”
“Margaret, this isn’t puppy love. You’re on the threshold of womanhood. There are things you need to know. I’m a guy. I can teach you.”
Margaret just stared at me.
“Margaret, there’s a vulgar saying: ‘Be a lady in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.’”
Margaret was aghast.
I continued. “I’ll teach you how to be the lady Patrick always wanted.” I left unsaid ‘And the whore he’s always dreamed of.’
The room fell silent, my words hanging in the air, Margaret stoically contemplating.
“Come with me,” I ordered.
I took Margaret to my bedroom and drew the shades. Taking her in my arms, I kissed her lips.
“Undress me, Margaret.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Unbutton my shirt,” I insisted.
Margaret hesitated, but my counsel was sinking in. The shock on her face turned to resolve; no conniving hussy was going to steal her man. Margaret stepped tentatively forward and reached for my top button.
“Take your time in foreplay. Good loving is never rushed.”
Margaret unbuttoned my shirt and removed it. I had her pull off my undershirt too. I ordered her to remove my pants. She paused, and then unfastened my belt. She needed help with the button, but soon had me in my boxers.
“These too,” I beckoned.
Margaret complied and I sprang out. She just stared. I took her hand and placed it on my erection. She gripped it tightly.
“Go easy, Margaret. Most guys prefer a gentle touch.” That’s not the doorbell you’re pulling on, Sweetheart. Margaret eased off.
I let her explore, placing her other hand under my scrotum. Margaret’s touch grew delicate.
“Gently scratch the back of my scrotum, Margaret.” She smiled and obeyed.
“That’s perfect,” I complimented as she glided her nails behind my testicles and held my erection in her warm hand. I let her indulge a while before continuing the lesson.
“I’m going to demonstrate how a gentleman should undress you, Margaret.”
I proceeded tenderly in order to allay her anxiety. I unbuttoned her loose top and, reaching around, I unclipped her and removed her top and bra together. Margaret crossed her arms over her breasts, her face a crimson red.
“Don’t be ashamed.”
Margaret gave a shy smile and slowly dropped her arms, revealing a perfect pair of young breasts. They were round, pert, and topped with generous nipples. They’d be the envy of almost any girl.
“Margaret, your breasts are beautiful. They should be your pride and joy.”
“They’re too big. I don’t like when the guys stare. They cause me embarrassment.”
That explained why Margaret always wore loose sweatshirts and tops; she was sheepish about her breasts. She’d get over that sentiment soon enough.
“May I?” I asked, lifting my hands. She gave a slight nod.
I gently caressed Margaret’s breasts. They were perfect to the touch; abundant in size and of impeccable firmness.
I wanted to hold her from behind. “Turn around, Sweetheart.” She about-faced.
Pulling her to my naked body, I caressed her left breast by lifting it with one hand and gliding the fingernails of my other hand over it. I fingered her nipple and then gave her right breast equal love.
“How is that, Margaret?”
“Very gentle.”
“This is how a man should treat a woman’s breasts. Only gentle squeezing.” I demonstrated with a small squeeze. “And gentle caresses,” I added, her breasts still in my hands. “Insist on it.”
Margaret nodded assent.
“Let’s move on. We’ll come back to your breasts later.” I had plans for those tits and was going to teach Margaret how to use them.
I removed Margaret’s pants, leaving her panties in place. We kissed a while, allowing Margaret to become comfortable in her near-nakedness. Before long, I laid her back on my bed and gently removed her panties.
Bypassing Margaret’s wet vagina, I mounted her and kissed her mouth. From there I slowly kissed my way south to her neck, her breasts, her flat tummy, down her legs to her feet, and back to her mouth.
“So gentle,” she purred.
I headed back south, pausing to kiss each nipple, and arrived at her vagina. Her soft, feminine scent wafted into my nose. Restraining a primal urge to dive right in, I kissed her inner thighs, then her labia majora, then pecked each of her labia minora. Pulling Margaret open, I planted dozens of gentle kisses between her lips. After inflicting an agonizing wait on her, I pushed my tongue into her tight opening and slowly dragged it up her musky slit.
Margaret gasped and shuddered. She gripped my hand while I meticulously continued up and down, slowly increasing pressure, luxuriating in her taste. After some minutes I pulled up on her hood and exposed her clitoris.
Margaret’s young white nub was as beautiful as she was. Distended and expectant, I showered it with tenderness. Light kisses became gentle licks. The licks became more focused and soon Margaret had her first orgasm via cunnilingus. Her toes curled and she gripped my hands intently, exhaling lungfuls of air through clenched teeth.
This being Margaret’s first, I refrained from giving her multiples and let her come down.
After dozens more kisses to her open vagina, I moved up, mounted her, and pressed my sizable erection on her tummy.
“Do you practice birth control, Margaret?”
“I started on the pill a week ago. It should be effective now.”
Should be? I didn’t care. If I got Margaret pregnant I would marry her. Today.
I slid the head of my erection up and down her slit a few times before alighting at her opening.
“Some bleeding and discomfort can accompany the first time,” I warned. “I’ll go slowly.”
Margaret gave a pained nod.
Cautiously, but inexorably, I pressed into her. I wasn’t going to rush; Margaret was a sweet girl and deserved the best. She would always remember her first time and I was determined to make it a fond memory.
I delicately entered where no man had gone before. Margaret’s unsullied flower was so tight it almost hurt to enter; it seemed her vagina sought to cling to its chastity. But I persisted, and slowly her virgin flower yielded to my manhood. With continued gentle perseverance, I arrived snugly in place.
I had brought Margaret to my bed a girl; she was now a woman. I brushed her hair with my hand and kissed her lips. “How is that, Sweetheart?”
“It’s nice,” she feigned. I could tell from her face there was some discomfort.
Slowly, very slowly, I began to work in and out, acclimating her tender vagina to the touch of a man.
We never left the missionary position; my orgasm soon burst forth, introducing to Margaret’s chaste vagina its first payload of semen.
I waited for the aftershocks to subside before withdrawing. I planted my blood-streaked erection on Margaret’s tummy and placed her hand on it. She instinctively pet it with caresses.
“You were wonderful, Sweetheart,” I cooed. “Congratulations.”
“I’m glad it was with you, Ray. Thank you for making me a woman.”
Those were the sweetest words I had ever heard.
I reached for some tissues and held one to Margret’s oozing vagina and shrouded my erection with the other. We eventually rose.
“Do you have a panty liner with you, Margaret?” I asked. She produced one from her bag and handed it to me. I had her step into her panties as I held the tissue in place.
“You’re going to seep for a while and you may spot for the next 24 hours,” I informed her as I traded the tissue for the liner.
We cleaned up, and I helped Margaret dress.
As Margaret left, we embraced. “I have lots more to teach,” I advised.
Margaret kissed me. “I’m looking forward to learning.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our second session began with Margaret expressing her gratitude.
“I’m so lucky,” Margaret explained. “You made me a woman the way it should be done; in a safe environment, in a home, in a warm bed, by someone who relieved my anxiety, who was so gentle with me. My friend’s first time was on a cold night in back seat of a car parked behind a big box store.”
“You deserve the best, Margaret. It’s my privilege to provide it to you.”
I took her hand and led her to the bathroom. We showered together, then slid under the covers. I began my instruction with a doctrine.
“Rule number one, Margaret; a gentleman puts his lady first. You being a lady and me a gentleman, my first priority is to see that you’re satisfied.” She liked that philosophy.
“Rule number two; never, ever be selfish in lovemaking. True love means giving to your partner. Don’t tolerate selfishness, either.”
Margaret nodded.
Having explained that, I worked my way down to Margaret’s lovely vagina. This being my second visit, I took more liberties. I played with her labia, taking each between my lips, tugging them and marveling at their elasticity. I opened her legs, put them in the air and, pulling her open, used her pussy as a pillow, resting one cheek on it, then the other, kissing between her lips as I alternated.
Margaret’s clitoris beckoned and I turned my attention there. Intermingling kisses, licks, and my index finger, I brought her to a rousing finish, all the while keeping my tongue inserted and my mouth enveloping her vagina.
This time I didn’t let her down so easily; I kept the pressure on, bringing Margaret to successive orgasms. She tensed, lifting her hips off the bed and exhaling deeply. Her eyes rolled. I held her in place, keeping her in her throes.
After an eternity, I let her down. I lay next to her and held her.
She was spent. Tears were in her eyes; her emotions were askew. She spit out phrases in staccato.
“You made me cry…I came in your mouth…I never knew…”
I brushed my fingers through her hair and kissed her. “Shhh,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” I held her tighter.
It took some minutes for Margaret to compose herself. When she calmed, we made love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In our next session, after pleasing Margaret, I decided to put her to work.
“I’m going to teach you how to give oral sex to a guy.”
“You mean a blowjob,” she said as a statement, not a question.
“Now that you put it that way, yes.”
I sat on the bed and had Margaret lay on her tummy.
“Take my erection in your mouth,” I instructed. Margaret obeyed.
“Now take it deep.” Margaret moved further down.
“Deeper.” Margaret kept pushing.
“Now come back up and as you do, glide the back of your index finger along the bottom of my erection.”
“Like this?”
“Yes. Now repeat. Go deep. Deeply as you can.”
Margaret struggled and finally got her lips around the base of my erection.
“Hold it there,” I instructed.
Margaret kept me fully engulfed, all the while pushing and stretching her lips.
“Come back up, remembering to keep your finger in contact.”
Margaret was learning. She was able to take me in fully, hold me there, and then back off to just the head. She spent some minutes refining her technique then disengaged.
“Am I doing it right?” she asked, looking up, my erection in her hand.
“You’re doing great.” She was getting me near.
“My friend told me if the girl does it right the guy will finish in her mouth. You’ll do that, right?”
“I promise to.”
“And then I’m supposed to swallow it?”
“Your friend is smart. Yes, you swallow it.”
“Okay, I will.” She took me deeply.
That’s all it took. I came with a fury, the throbbing and the gushes seemingly unceasing, all the while holding Margaret’s head down while I spewed a healthy load onto the back of her throat.
I finally finished ejaculating. “Make sure you swallow all of it, Margaret.”
“I did,” she choked. She came up and kissed me.
“I always wondered what that would be like.”
“How was it?”
“Sexy.”
“Just be sure to always swallow,” I asserted.
“I will. I liked it.”
We took a break for some pillow talk and then made love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our fourth session began with a recap.
“Let’s review, Margaret. Thus far we’ve covered cunnilingus, intercourse, and a blow job, as you refer to it. What is your favorite?”
“I love all of them, but I’m curious about intercourse. I want you to teach me more positions. And I want to practice my blowjobs.”
“Before we get to that, I want to teach you something new.” Her smile lit up her face.
I had Margaret lie on the bed. Mounting her, I placed my erection between her healthy globes, squeezed them together, and enjoyed their abundance.
I broke to apply some lubricating gel, then took Margaret’s hands and guided them to the sides of her boobs.
“Scrunch them together for me.” She did.
I reinserted myself in her cleavage and resumed exploiting her boobs.
“I like this!” Margaret raved as she held her boobs tight. “You’re making love to my tits.”
“That’s correct. But we don’t call them tits. That’s disrespectful. They’re breasts. And while we’re on the subject, it’s not a blowjob; it’s oral sex or just oral.”
“Sorry.”
Watching Margaret accommodate me with her pretty smile while holding her ample gifts caused me to gush suddenly.
“Oh, my…” Margaret gasped as my streams adorned her neck and her cheek.
“I guess you liked that,” she observed.
She released me and fingered the semen on her boobs. “I never thought of using my tits, I mean breasts, like that. We’re going to do that more,” she declared. “And oral, too. Now I know two ways to make you come,” she beamed.
We took a break to clean up and recharge.
“So what’s next, Ray?”
“Lady’s choice.”
“Let’s make love.”
I needed a recuperative break.
“Agreed. But first I’m going to kiss your lovely pussy.” Margaret smiled.
I pushed her legs back and pulled her open. The dozens of kisses I planted between her lips readied her for my entrance. I came up and mounted her.
Penetrating Margaret’s vagina was effortless. Gone was the clenching tightness of her virginity. I slid in slowly, but easily, helped by Margaret’s considerable wetness.
“You feel nice inside.” Her contented face verified her words.
She was ready for new positions. We spent some time, then I dismounted.
“Margaret, get on your hands and knees. I’m going to teach you doggy position now.”
“Yay!” she enthused. Margaret quickly rolled over and got on all fours. I slid up and down her slit a few times.
“Arch your back downward.” Margaret obeyed.
“Put your cheek on the mattress. Keep your behind up.” Margaret did as she was told.
“Good. Push your pussy toward me.” Margaret arched further.
“Spread your knees apart so I can enter more easily.” Margaret quickly spread.
I beheld the perfectly positioned beauty I had before me, entered her, and pushed in fully.
Holding Margaret by her curvy hips, I worked in and out of her.
“How is that, Beautiful?”
“I like this.”
“Push back toward me to get me deeper.” Margaret pushed.
“Now hold.” I stayed deep.
“A little bit forward now. And deep again.” Margaret worked back and forth.
I remained motionless, enjoying Margaret’s efforts, sometimes vacating her to spank her pussy with my erection and then reentering.
I was getting near. Still needing to teach Margaret the art of face sitting, I was loath to finish inside of her. I disengaged.
“Margaret, turn around so you can practice your oral technique now.” Margaret spun around.
“Remember, as deep as you can.” Margaret pushed and stretched her lips to engulf me fully.
“Margaret, I’m going to finish in your mouth,” I informed her.
“Oh, good.”
“Back up a little. Stick your tongue way out,” I said. I took her hand in mine and had her stimulate me. It was all Margaret now and I fondled her long blond hair as she worked.
“Keep your tongue pushed out,” I ordered.
Margaret did and brought me to, evoking a healthy orgasm onto her waiting tongue.
I finally finished ejaculating. “Make sure you swallow all of it,” I admonished, striking her cheek twice with my erection.
“I already did,” she proudly declared.
“Good girl.”
I collected myself and lay down on my back.
“Now, Beautiful, I want you on top.”
Margaret awkwardly mounted me. She was at first too far forward, then too far back. She adjusted her position and reached for my erection.
“Before you do that, I want you to give me a facial.”
“A facial? What’s that?”
“Come up here and rub your elegant pussy all over my face.”
Margaret clumsily lumbered up. As she grew near, I grabbed her by her hips and pulled her in. Her lips met mine.
“Now rub your wetness all over my face.”
Margaret wobbled a bit, then found her balance and gave me a good smear. She drew one foot forward and leaned in, wiping me hairline to chin.
“Ooh, you sexy girl,” I complimented. “Now sit on me.”
I helped her into position, sitting on my sternum, both feet flat on the mattress, her pussy above my mouth.
“Oh, the positions you put me in,” she sighed.
I inserted my tongue and began massaging her clitoris. After a few moments, I gently took her hand and, manipulating her fingers, pushed her index finger inside her.
“Now wipe it on my tongue,” I ordered, pushing out my tongue as far as I could. Margaret complied.
I took two of her fingers and pushed them into her.
“Wipe my tongue again.”
Margaret wiped her two sticky fingers on my waiting tongue while I held her generous boobs. I made her repeat this several times.
I maneuvered Margaret’s index finger and used it to rub her clitoris. She then took over. I pushed my tongue into her as deeply as I could, removed my hands from her breasts, and slid them under her feet.
Sitting on top like a queen, it didn’t take Margaret long. Her self-stimulation became quicker as she drew near. I held her by her toes as she gushed a ferocious orgasm onto my tongue and into my mouth. She continued rubbing herself until she was completely spent, and then rolled off of me, panting.
I put her on her back and pulled her vagina open, planting dozens of gentle kisses between her lips, carefully avoiding her hypersensitive clitoris. After some minutes of adoring her, I came up and kissed her pretty face.
“Thank you for that generous orgasm, Margaret,” I cooed.
“I sat on you and masturbated into your mouth,” she said in wonderment. “I never thought I could do something so dirty. So kinky.” She paused. “And I loved it,” she added in amazement.
“Then we’re going to do it often,” I promised. “Your orgasms are delicious.”
I ordered Margaret back on top and pointed my erection at the ceiling. Margaret positioned herself and slowly settled. I was fully in.
“Your vagina looks even prettier when stuffed,” I observed.
She looked down, staring. “It does,” she agreed.
Margaret rode slowly up and down, finding her rhythm.
“Come up here and put her back in my face.”
Margaret happily disengaged and put her vagina on my mouth. I gave her a kiss.
“Now back inside.”
Margaret ambled back and put me inside again.
“Repeat.”
Margaret came up for another kiss to her vagina.
“Now spin around, Sweetheart. Take me in from behind.”
Margaret turned to reverse cowgirl and put me inside. After a few moments I grabbed her by her hips and pulled her into the sixty-nine position, kissing her vagina as I did.
“Our lovemaking tastes delectable,” I observed.
“Heavenly,” she mumbled, my erection tickling her tonsils.
Margaret enjoyed alternating positions, cowgirl to face sitting, reverse cowgirl to sixty-nine. With this treatment I could no longer hold back. I gushed a healthy orgasm in reverse cowgirl position. Margaret pressed into my spasms, holding my ankles as she did.
I was finished for now. Three orgasms in one session. Margaret rolled off and we basked in the afterglow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a few short weeks I had brought Margaret from virgin to uninhibited lover. Margaret wanted me inside of her, regardless of position, but we spent much of our lovemaking in the missionary position. Margaret fancied my arms behind her legs with her feet in the air.
“You go deeper like that,” she observed.
Margaret also enjoyed my erection between her boobs. She’d scrunch them together with that come-hither look in her eyes, inviting me to ravish them. She also acquired an affinity for me withdrawing from her slick vagina and pressing it wet and sticky, full length, on her pretty face. I would take her hand and have her hold it there, tightly against her cheek. My hands now free, I would reach back, lift her legs, and give her pussy a light spanking. Mere taps, really. She loved that. I’d reenter her and repeat the whole lewd process, then request where she wanted me to finish; pussy, boobs, or face. Pillow talk would follow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One day I asked Margaret how things were progressing with Patrick.
“I don’t see him anymore.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
“We’re not compatible.”
“Not compatible?”
“In bed.”
“Have you made love with him?”
“We never got that far.”
She explained. “I did what you taught me. He liked the oral and the breast massage. But he really didn’t know how to lick me and I never reached orgasm; I had to fake it. I tried giving him a facial and he cringed. I thought he would be sick. So I ended it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I don’t belong with him. I felt a sense of betrayal when he and I were together.”
“Betrayal? To whom?”
“To you, Ray. I owe you. You taught me how a real man treats his lady. You taught me what lovemaking is. Making love with you is a joy. It’s natural, it’s dirty, it’s sloppy. It’s loving.” She paused. “It’s so loving.”
“It’s all of those things,” I agreed.
“And you were correct what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“‘Be a lady in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.’ You made me a whore in your bedroom. And I love it.”
That cemented it. We’ve been together ever since.
Copyright © 2023 by Plinytheyounger
All Rights Reserved
No part of this story may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
