Wendy often spent time with my sister, drinking in the town or she’d pop round to our house for an impromptu visit. I liked to think it was an excuse to see me. Thankfully, she never told anyone of my embarrassing moment in my uncle’s caravan.
"I've got something for you," she told me when we were out of earshot from everyone else. She handed me a tiny package wrapped in brown paper. “Open it when you’re alone,” she whispered. Intrigue gripped me, I slid off to my room. I opened the package to find a pair of panties and a note: Please find enclosed the undies I wore on your birthday. Thank you for a lovely time. P.S, they are just as they were when I took then off. Some birthday gifts are so precious!
The next time I saw Wendy she offered to give me my second lesson on how to please a woman. Of course, I agreed and took my uncle's caravan keys in anticipation. Later in the week, we met at a pub for dinner and a few drinks. Wendy looked as lovely as ever and was wearing a saucy pair of red shorts with a white vest top and high heels. When we got to the caravan, I joked that she had forgotten her bag, the one she referred to as her tool bag.
“We won’t be needing that, tonight, I have other plans for this lesson.” My cock twinge at the very thought.
Wendy closed the curtains and looked around the rooms. She returned with the drawcord from my uncle's bathrobe and an eye mask. She threw them down on the bed and stood directly in front of me. Looking into my eyes she began unbuttoning my shirt.
“Men believe that they are the ones in control. That’s because women let them think that,” she spoke slowly and seductively. “But when it comes to lust, women are the masters, as you will soon learn.” After Wendy removed my shirt, she started to remove her own. I went to touch her, but she stopped me, returning my hands to my sides as I attempted to fondle her tits.
“No,” she ordered, “Don’t touch. Take off your clothes.” I did as she ordered and stood there, naked. Already my cock was hard with anticipation. Wendy finished removing her top then took off her shorts. She stood before me in her underwear and high heels. I gazed lustfully at her body. Her nipples protruding beneath her bra and I could see her camel toe as her pussy bit into her panties. I so wanted to put my cock into her, and ride her, hard. To my dismay, Wendy took the blindfold from the bed and put it over my eyes.
"Your arousal is instigated by what you see. But it is only one of your senses.” She walked around me. I listened to her footsteps. I was at her mercy, in total darkness. She stopped, her head was close to my face, I could feel her warm breath as she spoke. “should you lose your sight then your other senses will prevail. Use them. Let them speak to your mind. Let them paint a picture of what is, and what may happen later.” I felt a little unnerved at not being able to see what was going on, and she sensed my nervousness. “Trust me,” she reassured, “let your mind relax, enjoy the moment.” Wendy must have been looking at my cock, as it had started to deflate. “I have you under my control. Your arousal is my arousal.” I felt a hand cup my balls and a fingertip run up the length of my cock. My erection returned.
Taking my hand, she tied one end of the bathrobe cord to my wrist. “Lay on your back, on the bed.” I obeyed. Wendy tied my other hand. I guessed she had tied me to the head of the bed as I was unable to lower my arms. I was aware of the softness of the duvet beneath me, the coolness of the cotton at first touch.
“listen. Paint a picture of me in your mind. What am I doing, what will I do next?" At first, there was silence and my uneasiness returned. I could hear material sliding against skin. My mind raced. I heard the almost inaudible sound of a tiny garment land on the bed. I pictured her removing her panties.
I imagined her sliding them down her legs and stepping out of them before bending over to retrieve them from the floor. Her wonderful round arse and the tip of her pussy protrude between her legs. I knew Wendy was still standing, I heard her sigh, softly. What was she doing, I wondered? I listened intently for further clues. For a moment It was silent, but then her sighing returned, it became louder, quicker. I heard the slapping of something wet. I was almost certain she was playing with herself.
My knob twitched against my belly as I saw in my mind the image of her gliding her hand between her legs, fingering her most intimate parts. The rhythmic slapping reinforced my vision, that she had entered her pussy and was joyfully masturbating.
“Are you fingering yourself? I quizzed.
“Quiet,” she snapped, “do not speak unless I tell you to.” Now I was certain. The picture in my mind matched perfectly to the sounds of her wetness, of her fingers sliding in and out of her pussy hole. I desperately wanted her to feel and rub my cock. It ached with desire. I sensed she was eying it again and it twitched longingly. “Don’t you cum yet,” she ordered, pausing her self-gratification. I heard her walk away. I didn’t want her to leave, I wanted to hear her orgasm.
I listened as she turned on a tap to fill a glass. I felt the sudden shock of cold water over my cock and balls. The desired effect to stem my flow was instant and my cock refrained from pulsating. Wendy was working me like a puppet, just as she intended, keeping on the edge until the very last. She turned her attention to my lips and kissed me with a passion. She then kissed all the way down my body to my crotch. At last, she kissed my cock and again my arousal rocketed. Knowing this, Wendy stopped until I had calmed down.
In silence, she climbed on to the bed and straddled my chest. I felt her legs at my sides. I felt the warmth of her skin against mine. She had her pussy close to my face. I smelt for the first time the sweet aroma of a woman's Vagina. She must have known I wanted to taste her, for she obliged me, lowering herself slowly until I felt her mound press my lips. The taste of a woman can be infectious, like a drug, like eating olives, you are either unsure of the taste or you love them straight away, either way, you become addicted.
Wendy gave me my first taste and instantly I was hooked. That was the night I became a love-juice junky and there was no cure. My tongue touched her velvet soft lips and she began to rock herself with overwhelming pleasure. I pushed my tongue out further. Wendy moved herself to the tender places she liked to be licked.
“Just there,” she moaned, “just there.” I felt every part of her raw inner lips and the opening to her honey pot. I consumed her juices as they glossed my lips, trickled into my mouth and seeped down my chin. She bared down on me harder, I dipped my tongue inside, my nose all but rubbed her clitoris. The early stages of her orgasm sent ripples of pleasure through her body.
Wendy reached behind and felt for my cock. It felt like she was rubbing me wearing silk gloves as she Pulled back my foreskin releasing the slipperiness of my pre-cum onto her hand. I was aware our bodies were burning, the heat of our passion making our skin, clammy. Wendy was close to orgasm, her intention, to cum with my stiff cock inside her. I offered my virginity willingly. Suddenly it was too late. The touching, the images and her womanly scent had aroused me to the brink.
Try as I might I was unable to stop the rush of orgasm that welled up through my shaft and the jism that erupted from my knob onto my chest and even into the crack of her bum. Once-again our lovemaking ended prematurely through my inexperience. I was mortified with embarrassment and guilt. Worst of all, I was still a virgin. Again, Wendy was kind.
“Third time lucky?" she smiled, removing the blindfold and pecking me on the lips. It was not all for nothing. Wendy’s face was flushed with arousal and we both had trembled with excitement exploring the lessons of love.