Chapter 6: Oral Lesson Begins
The shame was a cold, heavy stone in my gut. My date—Lisa, her name was Lisa—had left an hour ago, with a mumbled excuse about forgotten homework and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. I’d fumbled with her bra clasp for what felt like an eternity, my fingers clumsy and damp with sweat. When I finally got it, when my palm cupped her small breast, I’d gone soft. Just… deflated. The horrified look in her eyes, a mix of pity and impatience, was etched behind my eyelids.
I sat on the edge of my bed, still dressed, head in my hands. The scent of her cheap perfume clung to my shirt, a taunting reminder of failure.
The door creaked open. I didn’t look up.
“Rough night?” Alice’s voice was soft, devoid of judgment.
I just grunted. The floorboards sighed as she walked in. In my peripheral vision, I saw her bare feet, then the smooth line of her calves. She was naked, of course. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over me. Here I was, a guy who couldn’t get it up for a willing girl, living in a house where the most desirable woman I’d ever seen walked around like a goddess, completely unattainable. And I’d come on her back like a thief in the night.
She knelt on the floor in front of me, her green eyes level with mine. The lamplight caught the coppery strands in her curls. She smelled of lavender soap and her own deep, warm skin.
“Hey,” she said, placing a hand on my knee. “Look at me.”
I forced myself to meet her gaze. There was no mockery there. Only that calm, unnerving understanding.
“It happens,” she said simply. “Nerves. Pressure. It’s normal.”
“It’s humiliating,” I muttered, looking away at the wall.
“It’s a lesson.” Her hand moved from my knee to my cheek, turning my face back to hers. “You were trying to perform. To take. You don’t know how to give yet. And giving… that’s what makes you hard. That’s what makes it real.”
Her words tangled in my head. I stared at her mouth.
“I want to teach you,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If you want to learn. No pressure. No shame. Just… biology. Sensation.”
My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs. This was the cliff edge. I’d already jumped once, in the dark of her bedroom. This was jumping in broad daylight. I gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
A slow smile touched her lips. She took my right hand, palm up, and studied it for a moment. Then she guided it between her thighs.
The heat hit me first. Then the soft, springy texture of her curls. Then, as she pressed my fingers inward, the unbelievable, silken wetness.
“Feel that,” she breathed, her eyes holding mine. “That’s for you. That’s because you’re learning. There’s no shame in this, Marcus. Only truth.”
She spread her knees wider on the carpet, leaning back on her hands, offering herself to my gaze and my touch. Her cunt was a glistening, pink split in the dark thatch of hair, swollen, beads of moisture catching the light. I’d tasted it, fucked it with my fingers, but I’d never just… looked. Not like this.
“Watch me first,” she instructed, her voice steady, pedagogical. Her own hand came down, her fingers parting her lips. She found the hard little nub of her clit, shiny and tight, and began rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. A sharp gasp escaped her. Her hips rolled forward, seeking more pressure.
“See how I touch myself? It’s not frantic. It’s communication. Now,” she said, removing her hand and placing mine back, positioning my thumb over that same slick, hot nerve. “You do it. Match my rhythm.”
My thumb trembled. I stroked her, mimicking the motion I’d seen. Her breath hitched. “Yes. Just like that. Now… lean in. Get close. Use your tongue.”
I hesitated, the animal hunger in me warring with a last, screaming shred of decency. It lost. I slid off the bed onto my knees between her legs, the carpet rough against my skin. The musky, intimate scent of her filled my nose, overwhelming Lisa’s fake flowers. I pressed my face into her.
“Lick me,” she commanded, and it wasn’t a request. “Flat of your tongue. From my hole to my clit. Get it all wet.”
I obeyed. I dragged my tongue through her soaking folds, from the tight pucker of her ass up through the steaming, parted flesh of her pussy, all the way to the hard peak of her clit. The taste was complex, salty and sour and profoundly her. A flavour I’d already craved.
“Fuck, yes,” she groaned, her hand tangling in my hair, not gently. “Now suck it. Gently. Just the tip.”
I circled her clit with my lips, sucking it lightly, flicking it with the very point of my tongue the way I’d wish someone would do to me. Her thighs tightened around my ears. Her other hand grabbed my wrist, guiding my fingers back to her entrance. “Two fingers. Inside. Curl them up. Find the spot.”
I pushed my middle and ring fingers into her. She was so tight, so hot, a wet, gripping velvet vise. I fucked her slowly with them, my mouth still working on her clit.
“There,” she gasped, her body bowing off the floor. “Right there. Feel that? It’s rougher. That’s my G-spot. Rub it. Fucking rub it while you suck me.”
I curled my fingers upward, searching, and found a textured, swollen patch deep inside her. I pressed against it, rubbing in a “come here” motion, my tongue drilling into her clit.
Alice shattered. A raw, screaming cry tore from her throat, completely unrestrained. Her hips pistoned against my face, grinding, demanding. Her cunt clenched rhythmically around my fingers, a series of violent, fluttering spasms, and a hot gush of fluid spilled out over my hand and chin, soaking the carpet beneath her. She shook through it, her hand gripping my hair like a lifeline.
When the last tremor passed, she went boneless, collapsing back onto the floor with a long, ragged sigh. She looked wrecked, beautiful, utterly sated. She pulled my face up by my hair. I was panting, my chin slick with her cum.
“Good boy,” she panted, a real smile on her face now. “That was… very good. You’re a quick study.”
The praise burned through me, hotter than any liquor. My cock was a rigid, throbbing ache in my jeans, straining against the zipper.
“Now,” she said, pushing herself up on her elbows. Her eyes dropped to the obvious bulge in my pants. “Your reward. And another lesson. Lie back.”
I scrambled onto the bed, lying flat. My hands trembled as I fumbled with my belt and button. She gently pushed them away. “Let me.”
She unbuttoned my jeans, peeled them down my hips along with my boxers. My cock sprang free, fully erect, dripping pre-cum onto my stomach. The coarse, dark hair around its base felt suddenly hyper-visible. I wanted to cover it.
She didn’t comment. She just looked, her gaze analytical, appreciative. She stroked me from root to tip with a firm, knowing hand, spreading the slickness. “Beautiful,” she murmured, and the word didn’t feel like a lie.
Then she bent her head.
Her mouth was hotter than I’d ever dreamed. She didn’t start slow. She took me deep, her lips stretching around my girth, her throat opening to swallow me whole in one smooth, shocking descent. My back arched off the bed. A guttural “Fuck!” ripped from my lungs.
She pulled back, her tongue swirling around the head, then plunged down again, establishing a deep, relentless rhythm. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of focused pleasure. One hand cupped and kneaded my balls, the other pressed against my lower abdomen, holding me down. She was in complete control.
The sensations were too much—the wet, tight suction, the scratch of her curls against my thighs, the obscene, gulping sounds she made. The coil in my groin, wound tight for days, began its irrevocable unwind.
“I’m gonna… Alice, I’m gonna come…” I choked out, a warning.
She hummed in response, the vibration traveling straight up my spine. She took me even deeper, her nose pressed into my pubic hair, and swallowed.
That was it. The world whited out. My orgasm erupted from me, a volcanic surge of release that felt like it was tearing my soul from my body. I cried out, my hips bucking uncontrollably into the wet, willing heaven of her mouth. She took every pulse, every spurt, swallowing relentlessly, until I was empty, spent, shuddering.
She released me with a soft pop, licking her lips. She rested her cheek on my thigh, her breath warm on my oversensitive skin. I was jelly, every muscle useless, my mind blissfully blank.
After a moment, she crawled up the bed and lay beside me, her head on my chest. Her hand splayed over my pounding heart. We lay there in the quiet, the only sound our slowing breaths. The smell of sex, of her, of me, hung thick in the room.