A Post-Graduate Refresher Course

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At the age of 27 I had been in a five year marriage to the sixth woman who had shared my bed. Four of the six had been virgins. At the time, I thought I knew pretty much everything I needed to know. I was mistaken, of course. I just didn’t know what I didn’t know.

I’d gotten married much too young. I even knew it at the time. After a few short years I became restless. My wife was indifferent about sex. I was looking for some excitement, something and someone new. I was a flirt. And since I worked at a large company, I had plenty of opportunities to test the proverbial waters.

Karen worked in the same large department that I did. She was older – she wouldn’t tell me how much older, though I imagined it was about a ten year gap – divorced, and a single mother of two. She carried an extra few pounds on her medium frame that was busty without being chubby, with twinkly blue eyes and short reddish-brown hair and a ready, crooked smile. She was a personal assistant to a higher-level manager that she’d followed from a previous company with the promise of a company-funded bachelor’s degree at a local college and a better job in the future.

And she, too, was a flirt. We socialized at lunch and after work as a part of a larger group. Eventually the banter took on sexual overtones. “If we ever wind up in bed together,” she told me one afternoon at work, “I get to be on top.”

“That’s a deal,” I responded. “And I get to go down on you for a half hour.” Karen blushed and walked away, fiddling with some papers in her hand.

It was a promising exchange. Alas, for the next year, nothing transpired to turn the banter into a reality. Karen did, however, finish her degree, and soon thereafter she announced to her friends that the company had offered her a promotion to a managerial position in another state – and that she was moving in three weeks.

Three weeks! Slipping between the sheets with Karen seemed like a lost cause until she approached me with a proposition. “My going-away lunch is on the 17th. I fly out that evening. Mary says we can use her house in the afternoon. If you’re still interested, that is.” She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head as a question.

“I’d like that.”

Karen smiled. “I’ll pencil you in.”

In the days leading up to the luncheon, my imagination ran wild about what Karen would be like in bed. Over the years she had mentioned post-divorce boyfriends. How many men had she slept with? How would I compare? After four virgins and two almost-virgins, what would a mother of two feel like? Would her vagina be loose? And her larger breasts, what would those be like? Would she have large, suckable nipples? On more than one occasion I masturbated with the lightest of fist grips, trying to mimic my imagination of a far-from-snug vagina. The thought of it always made me explode.

The group luncheon arrived after an eternity of waiting. Twenty raucous people at a Mexican restaurant were fueled with humor and food and margaritas and beer. I sat at the far end of the table from Karen and watched her laughing and talking nonstop. The party seemed to last casino oyna an eternity. Had she changed her mind about going to Mary’s house? Would we still have time? Karen opened her presents. A blouse. A stapler from work. Karen unwrapped Mary’s present – a vibrator – and the table erupted in laughter. It was a ninety minute eternity.

And finally the luncheon ended, and after a ten minute car ride, we were standing in Mary’s bedroom. The room was awash in yellow tint from the afternoon sun pouring through the filmy yellow curtains. I silently pondered the obvious presence of the queen-sized bed with its matching yellow comforter and plump pillows. “Here we are,” Karen said. She smiled at me. We had never so much as kissed in all the years we’d bantered together, and now we were moments away from fucking. Was this really happening?

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said, and then walked out of the room to the bathroom down the hallway.

Yes, I was nervous. Day, weeks, even years had led up to this. I didn’t want to just stand there, frozen in place, so I busied myself with pulling down the window shades. Karen still hadn’t returned. What should I do next? Should I start taking off my clothes? No, that seemed too forward, too aggressive. I just slipped off my shoes.

Karen reappeared, still wearing her clothes. “Now it’s my turn,” I told her. “Be back in a minute.” I found the bathroom, emptied my bladder, and washed my hands. I glanced into the mirror. My hair was tousled. Should I brush my teeth? There was a wet toothbrush on the counter. Karen must have just used it, so I matched her with a quick brush.

When I returned to the room, Karen was lying on one side of the bed, the blanket folded at the foot, the sheet tucked just below her breasts. She was wearing a lacy white bra. Her blouse and skirt were neatly placed on a chair near the bed. Following her hint, I unbuttoned my shirt, unbuckled and unzipped and dropped my pants, and shirt and pants and socks joined her clothes on the chair. Karen’s eyes seemed focused on the bulge at the front of my jockeys.

I slipped into bed, and we rolled together in an embrace and a long, open-mouthed kiss. “Well,” she said again, “Here we are.” My free hand reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. Karen giggled. “I had a feeling you’d be good at that.” She shrugged off her loose bra and dropped it to the floor beside the bed, and again we embraced and kissed. My hands caressed the smooth skin of her back, from her neck to her panties, and her hands clutched my head, holding my lips against hers.

I was the first to break the kiss. I wanted to get my hands on her breasts, and I couldn’t do that when they were mashed up against my chest. My gentle nudge got Karen to lie on her back, and there they were, in all their glory. Her breasts were the size of softballs, firmer than I had imagined they would be, and to my surprise, they were tipped by small, pink nipples. This was not at all how I imagined this mother of two would be. I nuzzled one nipple, then the other, then back to the first. They hardened into small nubs, and Karen began to canlı casino slowly squirm on the bed and exhale soft moans.

We continued to kiss. I moved a hand lower, cupping her panty-covered mons and feeling heat. My fingers brushed the center, just barely feeling an aroused cleft through the silky fabric. Karen’s legs parted and her cleft became more pronounced. My hand slid upward to the waistband and then down inside her panties. She moaned in my mouth and squirmed her hips upward, and my fingers found soft pubic hair, a jutting clitoris, meaty outer labia and pouty inner lips. Karen was aroused, open, and flowing with creamy slickness.

Karen’s right hand had found its way into my underwear and was fisting my erection, giving me gentle squeezes at the base and sliding slowly up and down the shaft. I started edging her panties downward, and Karen lifted her hips and used her left hand to help. It seemed like a good time to shuck my underwear, too, and a moment later we were finally naked.

After that, we didn’t break skin to skin contact. We returned to a full body embrace and our wet, tonguey kisses. My hands wandered everywhere – her breasts, her back, her ass, her hips, her pussy. Karen flung a leg over mine, and my fingers played with her labia from the rear. Her arms encircled my upper body. Her fingernails drew lazy paths on my back.

It was time. I had to taste her. I slid my body lower, and Karen lay back as I moved between her thighs. The bedsheet had disappeared at the foot of the bed, and I gazed at her glorious vulva, now smiling open and inflamed pink and shiny with juices. Her musky scent filled my nose, which only made my cock stiffer. I kissed the insides of her thighs, an inch from those meaty outer labia, and Karen grunted impatiently and held my head with her hands and tried to aim my mouth.

Karen’s noises let me know when I found her succulent center. Her thighs sprawled wide. Her hips undulated in sync with my rhythmic licks. She whimpered, she groaned, she panted, she squeaked. Her juices coated my face, and my tongue explored her folds and ridges and hidden little parts that were getting increasingly swollen and unhidden. I sometimes changed gears and slowed, then quickened, sometimes adding fingers, sometimes little sucks. I loved to give head, and Karen clearly loved to receive it.

She seemed ready to come. When I shifted to a steady, firmer pattern of licks, I felt her climb the ladder, then all of a sudden she pushed my head back. “No,” she grunted, breathing heavily, “Not yet.” She pushed gently at my shoulders. “Lie on your back,” she told me.

Showtime, I thought to myself, and we readjusted positions on the bed.

Karen’s mouth briefly visited my very stiff 27-year-old’s erection, leaving it glistening with saliva and throbbing in anticipation. Then she straddled me, maintaining constant eye contact with me as she positioned my erection lengthwise in her cleft. She reached between her legs, and I felt her fingers aim my shaft as she cocked her hips just so. There was no subtlety, just a brief feel of my cockhead poised at her opening, and kaçak casino then, most delightfully, Karen impaled herself on my cock, enveloping my erection with her slick, heated embrace.

That was when I got my second surprise, this one even bigger than discovering her small nipples. Her vagina was snug, not loose, and she graced me with smooth velvety walls. She was even snugger than my wife. Karen’s eyes closed, and her hips squirmed and adjusted until I was buried deep, oh so deep, inside her gloriously embracing sheath. Then she opened her eyes and smiled at me, slowly undulating. “How is that?” she asked.


She grinned. “Good.” Her eyes closed again. Her hips kept rocking, rocking, rocking. I reached my hands up to fondle her breasts. “As much as I love being eaten,” she said, “I wanted to come with you inside me.”

“You didn’t let me go down on you for thirty minutes. But I’m not complaining.”

She smiled. “Good.” Her inner muscles gave me gentle squeezes, and my cock throbbed in response.

The next few minutes were nonverbal. Karen’s hips danced a steady rhythm. Inside, her lubrication just kept increasing, and soon the sounds of liquidy fucking joined our sighs and moans and groans. Gradually, ever so gradually, she increased her speed. Her mouth pursed, her face reddened, her forehead glistened with sweat. “Almost there,” she whispered, then her blue eyes opened and focused on mine. She sat more upright, her back arched, and her hips pressed her vulva against my pubic bone, hard.

“Now!” she gasped, her hips clumsily thrusting, then she grunted a loud, exhaling cry of pleasure, then again, then a third. Her eyes glued to mine, open wide, and I felt her quiver inside. That did it for me. My climax exploded, my back arched and my hips raised up off the mattress, aching to get my spurting cock deeper, ever deeper.

Our bodies scrubbed against each other, my orgasm intensifying hers, and hers mine. My hands grasped her hips, digging my fingers into her flesh, and her fingers dug into my chest, our noises echoing between us. I was never more aware of my ejaculations, pulse after intense pulse into Karen’s sweet, snuggy embrace, as I filled this new lover’s vagina with my juices. How many others had filled her? Was my cock large enough? Did I last long enough? At that moment, as my pulses had weakened and in my mind I saw my deflating erection oozing its final drops of semen inside her, I didn’t care.

And then it was over. Our movements slowed, then stopped. My hands wandered across her breasts, her face. She kissed my fingers. Her inner muscles squeezed around my embedded shaft as it slowly, slowly deflated. Karen lifted herself up and dropped to her back, next to me. She dropped a hand between her legs. “I didn’t think you’d ever stop coming,” she said.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. It’s flattering.” Her fingers fiddled between her legs. “Although I have a feeling I’ll be leaking for hours.” She looked over at me and smiled. “You naughty boy, you.”

The bedside clock was a silent reminder that our time together had ended. After a shared, quick shower, we dressed. I drove Karen to the airport, dropping her at the curb with a mere 20 minutes before her flight. We leaned together for a final brief kiss, and then she was gone.

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