A very pretty 25 yr old with the emotions of a pre-pubescent teen wants me to teach her about sex. Lesson two is about to happen....
GETTING TO KNOW PHOEBE
The joint family picnic between the Strong and Post families had been a great success, in more ways than one. My uncle’s marinated chicken was a huge hit, there was plenty of beer to keep everybody mellow, all the young’uns had exhausted themselves running and playing to their hearts content. And, of course, I got to meet Phoebe. It was great to mingle with everyone after such an extended absence, but it was even better that I met Phoebe.
Against my better sensibilities, I had fallen into her emotionally immature trap. I had been told that her emotional self had gotten stuck in its development, rendering her a chronological twenty-five year old, but only half that age emotionally. Somehow she had gotten stuck at the point where one’s mind becomes obsessed with sex, hormones raging and all. It didn’t help that she was utterly gorgeous and smart as a whip. She was cunning, using her wiles to convince me to engage in an inappropriate blowjob.
At my aunt’s house that night, we all sat around the dining table playing cards and gossiping about the day’s goings-on. At one point my uncle asked “There was a period there when we couldn’t find you. Somebody had some questions for you, and you were nowhere to be found. What gives?”
“Oh, yeah. After the hubbub of our arrival, a few beers on an empty stomach, and some general exhaustion from working, basically, around the clock, I snuck off and took a short nap.”
Then, of course, the inquisition from my aunt. “So, Sailor, what did you think about Phoebe? It was your first time meeting her, wasn’t it? I think she was born after you moved to America, and she’s been up at that finishing school in Austria for so long, missing any of your other visits.”
I had to give the right answer. “Yeah, she lured me into the loo, and I fucked her mouth” just wouldn’t do. “She’s a sexy tart now, isn’t she?” also wouldn’t curry favour. I couldn’t tell them that Phoebe is hot as a stove and willing to part her legs for anything even remotely resembling a dick.
“Phoebe’s cute and will fit in nicely with our families. She was a bit sassy with me at first, but I took some time to explain my circumstances and she seemed to understand.” Then, in a soto voce whisper I said, “And she has grandpa’s eyes.” The table fell silent until someone slapped a card down yelling “Gin! Read ‘em and weep, suckers!”
Just then my cellphone chirped. I excused myself and went to the loo. It was Lesley texting me. “Can you meet me in the garden shed in 5?”
Our houses were all on the same block. Lesley lived two houses away from my aunt’s. My aunt and uncle had a garden shed placed in the corner of the yard up close to the house. Lesley and I had long ago discovered how convenient it was for our quickie “get aways” during the numerous family gatherings.
I excused myself from my hosts under the pretense of getting some fresh air and having a smoke. I made a beeline for the shed and found the low wattage night light we used. Within a few minutes, Lesley appeared. We had been boinking each other for so many years we didn’t need any foreplay. We grabbed each other in a steamy kiss while simultaneously shedding our clothes. We had this down to a well-rehearsed science by now.
Lesley dropped to her knees and finished sucking me up to my full capacity. It didn’t take long considering that I was already half hard just at the thought of what was going to happen. Once my cock was primed and ready, she took our “fuck blanket” we kept hidden in the shed and spread it on the floor. I lay down on it and she straddled me, bending down to lock her lips onto mine. Her hand had my rigid staff at her pleasure point effortlessly and she eased herself down on it.
“Ooohhh … fuck, yes. Damn your cock fills me so fucking perfectly. I’ve missed these times, Sailor.” She was slowly raising and lowering herself, taking my entire cock up her cunt as she continued “Our times in the airport hotels, in the public loos, hidden at the back of the train cars are all very nice. But fucking you like this, here in our garden shed love nest, takes me back. When I play with myself, my fantasies always come here. The hundreds of times I’ve gagged on your fat cock, had you pound the hell out of my cunt, slammed it hard and deep into my asshole. I remember them all as if they were yesterday, Sailor.”
I pulled her down to my chest and cupped her ass cheeks in my hands. As I started to thrust hard into her wet pussy I whispered into her ear “Me, too darling, me, too.” I moved my hands to her hips and pounded feverishly, slamming up into her hole. She was pushing her pelvis down in sync with my thrusts, doubling the pleasure. Inevitably, I pumped my load deep inside her. She quickly scooted up, positioning her crotch right over my face. I used my thumb to assault her clit as she slid her sloppy fuckbox around on my face. She threw her head back, moaning incoherently, as she let her own juices loose, mixing with my cum and flooding my face. My cum and hers draining down and saturating my beard washed away more tension than a full body massage.
After some more family time with my aunt and a touch of evening sherry, we all retired for the night. I got comfy in bed, pulling the duvet up and wrapping myself in goose feather luxury. My emails hadn’t been looked at in a day or two, so I engaged with my phone. A quick glance relieved me that nothing was on fire, all my deals were going smoothly and I could relax.
Then my phone dinged and I had a new text message. It was from an unknown number, but I opened it anyway wondering if it was from a client. It was from Phoebe. Not only was there a written message, but there were several pictures attached. “I liked meeting you, Sailor. I hope you liked meeting me, too. These pictures are what I want to learn about next. Please, please, please tell me that you’ll teach me some more, Sailor.” There were four attachments. Two were closeups of her pussy, one lips closed, the other with her holding them open to reveal her pink insides. One of the other two pictures showed her inserting a hairbrush handle into her pussy. The other showed her legs spread, her hands tied together with a satin sash, resting in her crotch.
As erotic as this was, I was horrified. This tender young woman was obviously obsessed with sex, and she had somehow latched onto me. I guess I was mostly to blame. I had succumbed to her childish wiles and had taken inappropriate liberties with an immature soul. But now I faced another dilemma. How to respond.
“It was a real pleasure to meet you, Phoebe. I had fun talking with you at the family gathering. I must warn you, however, that it’s never a good idea to send intimate photos on the internet. Please don’t send any more.”
A few minutes later came her response. As is typical for her mental age group, she sent emojis. A sad face, a crying face, a screaming face. Within just a few more minutes came another text from her. “Why are you being like this, Sailor. Don’t you like me anymore? Did I make you mad? All I want is for you to teach me more, like a good uncle should. Don’t tell me that the aunties have brainwashed you, too.” Then a sorrowful emoji.
I turned my phone off without responding. I drifted off with the devil on one shoulder “Teach her, asshole. Teach her. She has to learn from someone. Make it you. Make her yours. It’s young, it’s sweet, it’s tender. You know you want it. Don’t hold back now.” The angel was on the other shoulder, arguing with the devil. “Be careful, Sailor. You know deep down that this is not normal. Think of the long-term damage you could do to this innocent girl. You could scar her for life. Do you want to carry that guilt to your grave? Tred gingerly.”
The sun streaming through the window brought me to consciousness. That and the smell of coffee and breakfast cooking. I turned on my phone to see if my deals had developed any troubles. My text app showed ten messages, all from Phoebe. Seven were from last night, three were from this morning. I scrolled through them reading the angst, the anger, the rejection from last night. This morning’s texts were less emotion laden and better grounded in reality.
“I know you’re mad at me, Uncle Sailor. I’m sorry but like I just get carried away like I can’t control myself. I want you to help me, please. Please, please, please. I’m drowning and this family just keeps pushing me under. Please come to my rescue, Uncle Sailor. Help me, please. I’m counting on you. I’m available for class all day.”
“Good morning, everyone! Breakfast smells delicious and I hear that coffee calling my name. How’s everyone doing today?” Collectively, everyone groaned with overlapping “work, school, chores” talk. Just another day in the Strong family life.
After breakfast, everyone got on with their day. My uncle went off to work, nieces and nephews went off to school, my aunt finished the dishes, threw in a load of laundry, and announced that she had to go into the city Centre for some fundraising event. I immediately texted Lesley. “Looks like the family has stranded me here alone.” That’s all I had to say. Our lifelong familiarity allowed Lesley to read between the lines without error. “Give me 10. Minutes AND inches!”
We spent an hour twisting and turning in bed, trying all the positions we were so familiar with. Lesley successfully orgasmed four times, I got there twice. The second time was a standard missionary fuck, her legs folded up by her ears. I had gone berserk on top of her, nearly causing her to faint. As we lay next to each other, I heard my aunt’s car coming up the driveway. We jumped up and were fully clothed, sitting innocently in the living room, drinking coffee when my aunt entered.
“Oh, hi, Lesley. What brings you by? And you look a bit flushed. Are you feeling well?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Sailor just told me a really funny story and I laughed so hard. I’m just here to get caught up on everything I missed at the picnic yesterday. It sure was a fun time, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s good to have my nephew come stay for a few days. And you know our families … ANY excuse for a party!”
Lesley knew that I didn’t really want to be trapped at my aunt’s house with no car, so she offered to either drive me wherever I wanted to go, or to pick up a rental car. We chose a rental car, giving me more flexibility during the week ahead.
Once in the rental car I had no real destination, so I headed back toward my aunt’s. My phone signaled an incoming message. I pulled over and read the latest from Phoebe. “You never answered me from this morning, asshole. Are you going to be a jerk to me, I mean, like ignore me the whole time you’re here just like everyone else. Scat on you prick. If you don’t teach me what I need to know then I’ll get some guy on the street to do it. Will that make you happy like jumping up and down happy. Don’t ignore me, Uncle Sailor. You mean too much to me for that, you know like I’m really happy we met and I just want you to show me how, you know, how stuff works. We can meet at the movie theater. I’ll be there in a half hour. Will you? Please? I need you to treat me right.”
Oh, boy. This young thing was going to run me ragged. I wasn’t sold on “teaching her” any more sex tricks, yet I also didn’t want her to fall in with some bum on the street, either. She had suggested the movie theater, not a good place for us to meet. I texted back “Stand in front of the theater. I’ll be in a white BMW rental car. Don’t talk to any strangers.” In a few moments she sent a short video of her dressed to kill, jumping up and down clapping her hands together, a huge smile dominating her delightful face.
During the drive to the theater, I contacted my staff and had them make a two night reservation in the Heathrow Hilton. When I pulled up in front of the theater, she was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the building, staring at her phone. She recognized my car and came skipping over, sliding her desirable body into the rich leather seat. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek saying “Oh, thank you, thank you, Sailor. You’re the very best ever.” I remained silent and started driving. “Where are we going? Is it a surprise? You know I love surprises, unk. I’m so excited, see?” She stopped “dancing” in her seat and swiped her hand between her legs. She put her fingers up to my nose. Yup. Pussy smell. She was already wet.
When I pulled into Heathrow she got confused. “Are we going somewhere? Are you kidnapping me? Can we fly to America? That’s where you’re from now, right? Will your wife care if I’m there? You’ll let me stay at your house won’t you, I mean where else would I stay?”
“Relax, Phoebe. We’re not flying away anywhere. And I’m not married, by the way.”
I pulled up to the valet parking at the Hilton and threw the keys to the attendant. As we walked to the hotel door, Phoebe was chattering away, asking question after question, rambling on like a pre-pubescent teen. I stopped her before we entered the lobby. “Shush now, Phoebe. The less you say, the better. Just stand there and look bored, like a 25 year old would.”
“But I’m so, so excited! I have a hard time containing myself when I’m this excited.” She did another little jumping up and down dance as I grabbed her arm and led her inside. At the front desk the clerk recognized me.
“Welcome back, Mr. Strong. It’s nice to have you as our guest again. Please sign here.” After signing in I requested that he have a beverage cart delivered to my suite. “Certainly, sir. Right away, sir.”
Once in the suite, Phoebe’s eyes were the size of saucers. She had never experienced anything like this and wandered around looking at and touching everything. “Look, unk! They have little bottles of shampoo and conditioner! And somebody must have left their robes here, there’s two of them. They’re so soft. Can I wear one?”
The knock on the door signaled the arrival of our beverage cart. I tipped the bellhop and poured a stiff scotch. I poured a soft drink for Phoebe. Fraught with anxiety, fear of the unknown and nagging guilt, I took my scotch and collapsed on the couch. Several minutes later, Phoebe came from the loo, wrapped in one of the hotel terrycloth robes. She jumped in front of me and began a “fashion show,” twisting and turning, running her hand down her torso, twirling around. Then she turned to face me, riveted her eyes on mine, and slowly opened the front of the robe. God almighty, I choked on my drink. She was naked as a jaybird underneath.
“Do you like what you see? Am I attractive? Am I desirable? Do you want me? Are you ready to start your lesson?”
“Phoebe, yes to everything except starting the lesson.” I patted the seat next to me. “Please cover up and come sit by me. Let’s talk for a bit.”
She saw the drink cart and scooted over to the drink I had poured for her. Taking one sip “EEWWW! It’s just Coke! Is there any rum to add to it or is there a beer for me?” She rummaged around on the cart and found a small cooler with some beer. She popped one open and plopped down on the couch next to me, her legs curled up. She made sure that one leg was fully exposed and her top half was leaning against me. I casually reached over and pulled the robe to cover her exposed leg.
I took a deep dive into my scotch and turned toward her, putting some space between us. “Phoebe, you’re wonderful, you’re beautiful, you’re sexy. You’ve got it all, babe. But this is just not right. I’m very uncomfortable in this situation.”
“Remember, I’m 25, unk. I’m totally of legal age. We’re not breaking any laws. Why do you say that it’s not right? I think it’s perfect! I’ve been sheltered, you have the knowledge and experience, and you’re going to teach me. I don’t see anything wrong. In fact, I wish you’d get started. I’m all creamy again.” She parted her thighs and wiped her hand in her crotch again, smelling it and putting it to my nose. “See? I’m ready to begin. What’s the holdup? Are you whimping out on me again, like you did last night?”
Mother of Jesus, this trollop was getting the better of me, again. I downed the last of my drink and rose to pour a refill. When I returned, I stood in front of her, casting a stern look her way. I was about to chastise her when she turned her magical face up to mine and reached for my zipper. Her eyes, those deep windows to the soul, pierced right through me. “Shall we start where we left off yesterday? Like a refresher course before we move on?” I fell mute, dizzy, disconnected from reality. I swallowed half my tumbler of scotch as I felt her wrangle my soft man from my pants.
“Wow! Look, Sailor! He shrunk! And he got all soft.” She looked up at me again. “Is everything alright? Have I done something wrong? Please tell me and I’ll try to fix it.” She pulled him through my zipper opening and noticed that he began to swell. “Maybe he just wants to be freed from the prison he’s in.” She unbuckled my belt and struggled with the waistband button. Then my pants were on the floor. I gulped down the last half of my drink as she tugged my boxers down.
“Holy Moly! Look at all the hair! It’s all kinky and curly.” She ran her fingers through my pubic hair and stroked my stiffening cock. “It looks like he’s recovering, unk. He’s getting bigger like yesterday. Is that how that works? Is he soft and tiny until it’s time to make babies? Does he have to be big and stiff to make babies?”
Somehow, I was frozen. I couldn’t utter a word. I couldn’t move a muscle. This sex starved beauty was manhandling my cock, creating a full-blown erection, and all I could do was stand there watching. She began jacking me off, then put her lips on my glans. With just the glans between her lips, she sucked, swirling her tongue around and around. I was at full attention now, but still frozen. I was helpless in her hands. Phoebe was a quick study. Applying the lessons she had learned yesterday, she fellated me, eventually getting him in as far as the back of her throat.
She paused to catch her breath and swallow the accumulated spit. With one hand stroking my stiffy, she innocently said “Was that okay? Was it as good as yesterday? Should I, like, do more or are you ready for, like, my next lesson? I’m really, really dying to know about how that thing of yours and my thing work. Can you show me? Please, oh, please?”
I needed a moment to collect myself and see if there was any way out of this mess I had stupidly gotten myself into. I stepped away and refilled my drink. As I walked back, my erect dick was swinging side-to-side. Phoebe burst out in laughter. “Oh, my GOD! Did you see how he was waving around? Does he always do that? How do you control it? Why does he swing around like that? Will he swing like that when we’re making babies?”
I sat on the couch next to her. “Phoebe, sex is complicated. It’s not always straight forward. Sure, there are some constants, but, by-and-large, each encounter is a bit different from the last and from the next. For example, take all the various positions that are available. There are just about as many different positions as there are people. Yes, there are a few that are universal, but creative people have come up with some rather unique ways to get a dick into a pussy.”
“What are all these positions you’re talking about? In sex ed in school all we learned about was the man lying on top of the woman. You mean there are other ways? Tell me about them. No, forget that. Show me. I’m ready.” Once again, she wiped her hand in her crotch, this time putting two fingers inside, pushing them in and out several times. She brought her hand to her mouth and licked the pussy juice from them. “Uummm … that tastes heavenly. Want to try some?” She repeated the process, pushing her wet fingers into my mouth. “See? Isn’t it wonderful?”
I was now a goner. The devil popped into my head and blanked out everything except this delightful nymph sitting next to me, eager and begging for sex. I succumbed and pushed her back so that she was flat on the couch. I reached my hands under her legs and pulled her pelvis toward me, getting my hands under her ass to lift her. My head leaned down and my lips enveloped her entire pussy. My tongue began lapping up the sweet juices and running up and down between her pussy lips. Phoebe began moaning and groaning. I tongue fucked her vagina, but the angle wasn’t right for any real penetration. So, I slurped and licked my way upwards. My hands were still underneath her, holding her up. I paused and instructed her to use her fingers to spread her pussy lips wide apart. With a clear shot now, I pounced on her clit, lips and tongue devouring it. Instantly she bucked and rocked, she squealed and cried out. When I nibbled on her clit she exploded. She squirted a solid stream on my face, she screamed, she slammed her hands on the back of my head and pulled it into her fuckbox with great force. She was a woman possessed, squirming, squealing, panting, in ecstasy.
I licked her pussy like a mother cat as she regained herself. When I sat back upright, she stared at me, in disbelief. “Did we just make babies? I’ve never felt anything like that before. Can we do it again? Unk, I really, really liked that. I want more, all the time more. More, more, more. Oh, please, unk … do it again, do it now, I can’t wait.” Her hand was thrashing around in her crotch, trying to replicate what had just happened.
“Phoebe, just relax and enjoy the feelings for now. What I just did is technically called cunnilingus. Some people use other names for it like, “giving head” or “eating you out” or other less common phrases. And, no. It does not make you have babies. Babies are only made when this thing [I pointed to my dick] goes inside that thing [I pointed to her pussy] and squirts out that creamy white stuff that I squirted in your mouth yesterday.”
“Is that next, unk? I feel so warm and creamy down there. I think I’m ready. Are you?”
“Well, Phoebe. I don’t think you’re ready to make babies yet. At least not with me. That’s why I’ve only done things where my creamy white stuff doesn’t get anywhere near your baby making hole.”
“But, unk! Didn’t you know? My mum took me to the doctor. He got me on his table and made me spread my legs. He had these cool holder things for my feet. He poked and prodded between my legs, and I got all excited and creamy. He gave me a funny look and handed my mum a small piece of paper, telling her to go to the pharmacy. She gives me a little pill every day, like clockwork. She tells me that this pill will keep me safe from having to change stinky, poopy diapers.”
Maybe Phoebe was already on birth control. But I had no proof other than this emotionally immature waif telling me her mum fed her a pill every day. It could be a daily dose of whatever. Antidepressant, anxiety, her emotional condition. It could be for anything. I couldn’t chance fucking her sweet pussy without a condom until I knew for sure. All I knew was that our time for today was up and I had the room again tomorrow. Maybe I could introduce her to her back door. No chance of pregnancy there.