Tuesday, June 11-Saturday, June 15, 1974.
“The Joy of Sex,” I said, reading the title of my new textbook.
“It’s quite basic,” said Felicity, “just a popular bestseller. But we might as well start at the very beginning.”
“A very good place to start.”
She laid out my duties: read cover to cover, learn by heart, master all the positions. How? Just like Carnegie Hall: practice, practice, practice.
It was oddly like Junior Varsity football. You got a copy of the playbook to commit to memory. Then, in the heat of summer, the fun of two-a-day practices.
Only, with Felicity I was in the big leagues now—and workouts were three or four times a day, fucking in three or four positions each round. Each day I came home exhausted, but each night I ran through them all in bed with Zoe.
That was how my sex lessons started. They kept me so busy I barely had time to masturbate. Still, I had a minimum three orgasms to give myself: one for my mother, one for Sylvia Raleigh, and one for the person or persons of my choice.
These Felicity categorized under love. Nothing says love like who we spill our seed for when we are alone in the dark.
Romance was the third pillar of my education. Right-brain function, imagination, creativity. Partly this involved reading a woman’s mind or appearing to. The trick was to score on the heart without triggering any of her defenses. Stealth and surprise were the name of the game.
All this strategizing Felicity and I worked out informally, in brainstorming sessions. Then I executed each clever idea in my artificial relationship with Zoe.
Bottom line: it wasn’t nearly so much about what to think as about how to think.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday passed, so much the same in many ways, but each with its particular delights.
Friday morning I woke a few minutes before our alarm—and with a taste for twat. I lay there adoring Zoe’s beauty for a moment, before realizing my opportunity. Carefully, I reversed myself and dove beneath the sheet, where my tongue found its way to her naked, bald pussy in the darkness.
Seconds later I heard a moan from the other end, as she turned slightly and her legs spread open to accommodate my head. I enjoyed the dance of her body and the song of her pleasure, as I clung with a hand on each buttock and feasted on her juicy slit.
Then I felt warm wetness engulf my cock, as my cunnilingus turned into sixty-nine. Zoe’s pussy had a big head start, and I counted five successive orgasms before my climax exploded into her mouth.
She sucked me totally dry before pulling me up to the surface. She was waiting for me with a kiss, and she must have kept my whole load for us to share in our mouths together. I wondered whether other guys’ semen was as yummy as mine. I was not interested in finding out, either, though I had a feeling that too would come one of these days.
My little wake-up call scored me romance points, I’m happy to say. We showered. She dressed. I didn’t.
Zoe’s breakfast was yogurt and granola. “Busy day, today. Felicity is off to Chicago for the weekend. So many last-minute arrangements I have to make!”
We kissed goodbye.
“You excited?” she asked.
“I think you can see I am. I’m not wearing any pants.”
“No, goofball, I mean about it being Friday.”
“Damn right. I thought this week would never end.”
“I’m talking about your tutorial.”
“Tutorial?”
“Every Friday afternoon: your Sylvia tutorial?”
“You know way more about my schedule than I do.”
“Anyway, you’re meeting with your future mother-in-law at 2 pm.”
“Mrs. Raleigh?”
“Well, I sure don’t mean my mother. Gotta go. Have fun.”
_____
Mrs. Raleigh walked into the reading lounge at three minutes to. I had been there waiting since half past one, as if arriving early would speed up time.
A few minutes before she arrived, a cute girl had come and set up tea for us.
Mrs. Raleigh looked fabulous in a sleeveless dress, surprisingly unrevealing for the milieu, a mere tease of cleavage, a slit showing a lovely leg. Her bosom was stupefying as always, even fully clothed.
She carried something in a canvas bag.
I rose to greet her and we kissed her on the cheek.
“Oh, we’re better acquainted than that, you and I,” she said, and we kissed open-mouth, full-tongue until breathless.
“I’m afraid I smudged your makeup,” she said, as we released each other and sat down.
“No worries; I’m prepared.” I pulled my lipstick and a compact mirror from a tiny purse I’d started carrying and set things right.
I poured her some tea.
“Thank you, Martin,” she said. “You know, nudity really does become you. Have you been naked ever since I saw you last?”
I held out a foot to show off my heels. “I’m not actually naked. See my shoes.”
She looked at my pumps and smiled—then ran her eyes up my leg.
“And just look at that thing! Doesn’t it ever go limp?”
“Not while you’re in the room, Mrs. Raleigh,” I replied, pouring myself a cup.
“Aw, you’re so sweet. Listen, before I forget, I brought something to give to you.”
She reached into the bag and pulled out a present wrapped in hot pink with a gold ribbon.
“Oh, Mrs. Raleigh, you shouldn’t have,” I said, undoing the bow and pulling open the paper.
“Actually, we didn’t. I’m just passing it along from a third party: Beverly Dumond.”
“Beverly… Sylvia’s amica?”
“Her longtime piano teacher, and yes, now her sex tutor as well. She wanted to give this to you on Sylvia’s behalf—not that Sylvia is not actually aware of it.”
“I see.”
“Beverly is authorized to act in Sylvia’s interest. All’s fair in love and war, of course. And she feels any young man prepared to go to such lengths for love deserves a fighting chance.”
“Be sure to thank her for me.” It turned out to be a box, and inside was a book bound in leather. I pulled it out; it looked very familiar.
“This looks just like the one Gaia read from at my ceremony.”
“The very book.”
I opened it to look at the title page: Emmanuelle: The Joys of a Woman.
I sensed a theme. “‘Joys’ as in the joy of sex?”
“Precisely. Required reading if you want to truly understand Sylvia, her hopes, dreams, and aspirations.”
“Which I do. Passionately.”
“This is Sylvia’s favorite book, and that’s putting it mildly. She keeps a copy by her bedside and reads from it every single day.”
“Then I will, too.”
“That’s the idea. It’s the story of a beautiful young French woman, named Emmanuelle, who is sexually uninhibited and who goes from one erotic adventure to another.”
“It’s an absolute classic—the single greatest work in the genre of erotic fiction, many say. And I agree—though it’s based on a real woman’s actual experiences.”
“Sounds like someone I’d like to meet in a dark… bedroom. Actually, it sounds like someone I’d like to be?”
“That’s exactly how Sylvia feels. Sylvia admires Emmanuelle and seeks to emulate her in her own life.”
“I can’t wait to start reading it, then.”
“And you know what? There’s a film version coming out—in just a couple of weeks. In France, anyway.”
“Let’s all hop on a plane!”
“Oh, I brought you something else.” She reached into her bag and pulled out an 8×10 glossy. “This is the actress playing Emmanuelle.”
I couldn’t believe my eyes. “What?!” I cried. The woman was absolutely stunning! But more than that…
“Uncanny, isn’t it?
“She could be Sylvia’s sister!”
“Funny thing is the actress’s name is also Sylvia.”
“No way! That’s incredible! I say they should make an American version starring our Sylvia!”
“I’m sure Sylvia would second that motion. Anyway, I imagine the film will come out here in a few months.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Tell you what. Go see it with your mom, and you two will probably spend the next week in bed.”
“That would be a great way for us to finally take the plunge.”
“Oh, honey, you and Caroline will be fucking regularly long before that.”
“I hope so. I masturbate about Mom every single day. Felicity’s orders, though I would anyway. Same for Sylvia, at least once a day—usually more!”
“That’s very commendable. Speaking of which, have you been able to use the pictures we left you?”
“Oh my god, yes! Those modeling shots, especially!”
“The bikini ones?”
“And the lingerie, especially the bras.”
“Beverly wants her to do some nudes—which Sylvia can’t wait to do.”
“When and if she does…!”
“Oh, you’ll get a copy, don’t worry about that. The whole idea is to furnish them for all the people who masturbate for her.”
“You mean she knows I do it?”
“She knows that’s what boys in love do. And she knows you’re in love with her—so it would be very strange if you didn’t. Still, take my advice: you should tell her. Some time when the moment is right, let her know how often you pay tribute to her. She’d be pleased to hear it.”
“Tell her? Tell her about jerking off?”
“In her honor, yes. Do you have any idea how many guys masturbate for her regularly?”
“Wow! I never thought about that. Has to be dozens.”
“Dozens she knows about. Doubtless a lot more she doesn’t. No surprise there. The crazy thing is almost no one tells her. When that’s something a girl loves to hear.”
“What I’d really like to do…” I was touching myself now. “Is do it for her—play with myself while she watches.”
I couldn’t help myself: I started stroking in front of Mrs. Raleigh. Her face lit up.
“Mmm. You look so good doing that, Martin! Keep doing it. I love watching a man get himself off. I want to see you come.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But take your time. I’m enjoying the show. I’m sure Sylvia would love seeing you do it for her. Especially that beautiful penis of yours.”
It was hard to keep from exploding there and then.
“Thing is, Martin, once she sees it you might not get to finish the job yourself. There’s a natural instinct that kicks in whenever a woman sees a cock—especially one as big and juicy as yours. She’d have an irresistible urge to… Like the urge I’m feeling right now.”
“An urge to do what?”
Mrs. Raleigh licked her gorgeous lips. “Put it in my mouth!”
I was speechless. I looked her in the eyes and started stroking way too fast. Was that an instruction? If so I wanted to obey. I had already had four orgasms that day, two of them self-inflicted—both of which had been in Mrs. Raleigh’s honor. And now I was about to make it three! I was happy to do it for her by my own hand, but I’d much rather ejaculate into one of Mrs. Raleigh’s orifices!
I caught myself and slowed back down. Mrs. Raleigh stared at my cock, a hungry look on her face.
She took a sip of tea and said, “Sylvia has developed herself quite a reputation, you know… for her head?”
“Sure. She’s got like what? A four-point-oh?”
“I meant ‘head’ as in oral sex.”
“Oh! Right. I knew that. Oh wow! Now I can’t get the picture out of my mind: your daughter sucking my cock…”
“Why would you want to get that picture out of your mind? That’s a good one to finish on.”
“Not yet,” I said. “You asked me to take my time, and I want to do that for you”
“I appreciate that, dear. I’m getting incredibly wet watching you. I have to ask, Martin. How far have you gotten with her? Obviously, you two have never fucked. But not even a blow job? That’s surprising.”
“We’ve never even kissed.”
“What? Why not?”
“I… I didn’t want to come across as too… forward… I’ve realized now that was a huge miscalculation.”
“I’m afraid so, dear. Mixed messages at best. You keep asking her out, and yet don’t seem to be interested in getting into her pants. That isn’t going to make sense to her.”
“That was before… all this. I’m starting to learn, but before, I just didn’t have a clue. Oh! I’m getting close now…”
“Mmm. Yes, it looks that way. At the very least you should have gotten your cock out of your pants. You and I would be having a very different conversation now.”
“You don’t mean she’d be in love with me, too?” I was feeling that sweet sensation—all through my body.
“I wouldn’t take it that far, only that you’d be in the running. But even if she didn’t fall in love with you, she’d definitely have a major crush on your dick.”
“I like the sound of that. I feel it… I’m about to come… soon.”
Her teacup was still a third full. She slid it across the table to me. “In there, please.”
I hit that point of no return; any second now! And god, she wanted me to add “cream” to her tea. Anne Raleigh wanted to drink my cum!
My orgasm hit: “Oh, Mrs. Raleigh! Oh my god, Mrs Raleigh! You are so beautiful! So goddamn sexy!”
I did it! I was so proud of myself. I shot my whole load into her cup, without spilling a drop. Without spilling her tea. I made sure and squeezed out the last tiny bit, and then passed it back to her.
“Oh, but that’s for you,” she said.
“Me?”
“Cum is very good for you. You should drink your own as much as possible. Or even better, someone else’s cum.”
I did. Not a bad combination.
“Very good,” said Mrs. Raleigh. “Better get used to it. Sylvia’s a big believer in the health benefits of cum. Says it keeps you young.”
“I guess that’s my new passion, then.”
“And thank you, Martin. You masturbate beautifully.”
“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“So, let’s talk about using it to pleasure others. Your cock is going to be your key—to so many things. So many lovers. It will be your key to Sylvia. I guarantee it will fit her keyhole perfectly.”
“So, getting her to spread her legs for you, that’s not going to be a problem. But you want more, don’t you?”
“I do, most definitely.”
“A girl like Sylvia gets all the cock she could want—even high-quality cock! She was as seeing a different boy every Friday and Saturday night, and another Sunday afternoon. (No dating on school nights, of course.) So many guys ask her out, she had a waiting list three months long.”
“Wow…”
“I know. Listen, I’m not telling you all this to discourage you—quite the opposite. My point is with… that… you’d be in the rotation. Not all her dates have what it takes down there, believe me, but no one under six inches has a chance of a second date.”
“So, I’m good.”
“As far as that goes. You’ve got an advantage as far as high school boys are concerned. But she was beginning to see more and more college guys—and some older men. A lot of them are decently hung, and more to the point, most know how to use what they’ve got.”
“Mrs. Raleigh, I’m not sure if I heard you right, but you seem to be using the past tense. You just said she was beginning to see more college guys.”
“All right… yes… it’s true the past few weeks, couple of months now, she has… um… altered her pattern. She’s started dating someone steadily.”
“I see. Whoever he is, I guess it’s safe to say his dick satisfies her.”
“No. Not exactly….”
“But you just said…”
“I know, but… it’s complicated. Bottom line: Sylvia deserves that gorgeous piece of man-flesh you carry. Your job is the be worthy to wield it—so that she will end up with what she deserves. Felicity’s job is to train you globally, for erotic expertise. My job is to prepare you—specifically—to be a Sylvia specialist. Do all this, and you might just end up with what you want.”
“Which is her.”
“Exactly. Understanding of course, for Sylvia variety will always be the spice of life.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Every good relationship is an open one. Something I’ve recently been taught.”
“Yes. That’s the way Duke and I have always lived, and you can be sure that Sylvia sees it that way, too.”
“That’s good, Mrs. Raleigh. And it helps. You know, my problem has always been I get so intimidated. I want her so much, it’s like everything’s on the line. I get stressed out. Then I freeze up. I think it’s become a reflex now, like my brain is stuck in that pattern.”
“There are techniques for getting unstuck, Martin. In fact… that brings us to something I wanted to talk with you about. What do you know about role-play?”
“I was in Peter Pan last year. I was the crocodile.”
“Something like that, I guess…”
“Or dress up? Make believe?”
“Like that, yes. It’s just for fun, but it can also be therapeutic. How would you like to role-play a date with Sylvia?”
“Oh, wow, that would be amazing. You mean like a real date with a real female, only she’d be pretending to be Sylvia?”
“That right. Go through all the motions, act, and talk as if you were with Sylvia, and your nervous system won’t know the difference.”
“And who would play Sylvia?”
“Well, I’m told we do look and sound very much alike. I don’t think anyone else could do a better imitation of her than I. I know her quirks, her gestures, how she thinks and talks? Let me be Sylvia for you.”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“Say yes. And then you have just over twenty-four hours to plan the date. Then tomorrow night, you come and pick me—pick Sylvia up.”
“Tomorrow! That’s not much time.”
“I’m sure Zoe will help you. And I know you don’t have a car. I’ve discussed all this with Felicity. She has arranged one for you to use. And of course, one other minor detail.”
“I haven’t a thing to wear. Literally.”
“Yes, I understand you do not possess as much as a pair of socks. The downside is you’ll probably need to have some clothes on. Not to worry: Felicity has selected something for you.”
“Okay, it’s a plan.”
“That’s enough for today,” she said, rising from her chair. “Ir’s going to be fun in any case.”
She kissed me goodbye. “You and Sylvia will have a little dinner. Maybe see a show. You take her home. You and she kiss for the first time. She asks…
