19 Spring 492a.v.
Hands pressed to skin. This is how every day should be spent. She was tireless in her pursuit to reveal the world to her young pupil. Berkley was face down between her thighs- lost in his task. The older woman was sprawled out across the thick blankets with a hand tangled into the young man’s hair which served as a means of steering but also balance. The boy had skills. Her coos and moans helped to signal the things that he did right and the things he did wrong were gently corrected with her controlling hand or a soft instruction. The woman’s free hand went from clenching the blanket or grabbing her own hair as the teasing tongue whipped her into a frenzy. Once and a while, Berkley would have to lift his sight too look at her body. The angle of staring up across a woman’s naked body was like staring across a beautiful horizon of unexplored land that begged to be conquered.
The lad’s devotion to his task was fervent but the beauty of his tutor was distracting in its own right. Her supple breasts and flat stomach heaved up and down in an irregular pattern that was controlled by the tiny machinations of curious fingers. Berkley was inexperienced and unfamiliar with the workings of the female body but the sweet and salty juices that she was submerging him in quickly became a taste that left the boy with an insatiable thirst.
“Oi! Ya beautiful basssssss- ugh!” She shouted and then bit her own hand as the lad ducked back down to where his baby soft cheeks where sandwiched between her muscular thighs. Her skin smelled like sweat and lust- an aroma that the street rat would grow to cherish. The hiss and grunt were a prelude to her hand squeezing his hair so tight that it hurt but the pressure she applied was down. It was almost as if the woman intended to suffocate him in her sex –a death most pleasing in the mind of the teenager. Strong and rather tall, Berkley was an adult by appearances but lacked any real experience beyond hustling the streets of the filthy town in a way that kept him off the radar of predators. One of the ways he was developing was the use of his friendly personality and charming smile. Women seemed to enjoy his flirtatious nature but this one saw through his mask of confidence.
Aunt to his friend, Eileen had seen the lad try to coax his way into homes for a place to hide or a quick score but his approach was always the same. Like all Sunberth residents, Eileen had a criminal past and a desire to see herself rise above the Slag Heap. She saw potential in the boy and took it upon herself to give him a more useful set of skills that she could easily manipulate for her own purposes. That’s not to say this was purely business. Her husband had been killed years ago so having a virile whipper snapper tend to her neglected urges was a double win for the widow. Her blood boiled and her muscles ached as the tingling sensations of a growing release drew nearer to its climax. Both hands found their way into his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp and keeping his soft lips and tireless tongue exactly where she wanted them.
Berkley drank from the woman like a dog who’d spent weeks in the desert and just found a spring of cool water. The water in this well was warm and slick but seemed to fuel the student’s desire to please his matron. The added strength behind her control and the ever increasing volume of her exclamations seemed to be pointing towards an end –the finish; which, according to Eileen, was the point. Berkley dove in using his mouth and his hands to keep himself from being unseated by the sporadic and powerful movements of her legs. She’d squeeze her thighs together then kick one leg out with a profane curse. One of his strong hands held the back of her leg where it met the curve of her round bottom, his thumb tugging at the skin to give his face more room. His other hand was strumming a piece of her body that took him a long time to find. Eileen explained that it was the key to making a woman happy.
In a squeal of triumph and relief, Eileen went into a series of convulsions that rippled from her core outwards through her entire body. Her legs wrapped around the head of the young man and locked at the ankles. He was stuck and not going anywhere until she was done so Berkley just rode the waves and continued to do as he had been told. He lapped at the rush of fluids but soon found he was being half-smothered and half-drown. The tingle of fear mixed in with his arousal and sent chills up and down his spine. After a chime of spasms and phrases that he’d never heard, Eileen released her student and then shoved him away from her. She curled her legs under her body then sat up on her side using a hand to prop up her head. The grin she wore made her look drunk and she stared at him through half-closed eyes. “Well done, sugar.” Her hand snaked out and tussled his messy hair then traced the glazed smattering of her fluids that lingered around his mouth and chin. “Give me a minute and I’ll show you how to use other parts of your body to make me smile.”
Hands pressed to skin. This is how every day should be spent. She was tireless in her pursuit to reveal the world to her young pupil. Berkley was face down between her thighs- lost in his task. The older woman was sprawled out across the thick blankets with a hand tangled into the young man’s hair which served as a means of steering but also balance. The boy had skills. Her coos and moans helped to signal the things that he did right and the things he did wrong were gently corrected with her controlling hand or a soft instruction. The woman’s free hand went from clenching the blanket or grabbing her own hair as the teasing tongue whipped her into a frenzy. Once and a while, Berkley would have to lift his sight too look at her body. The angle of staring up across a woman’s naked body was like staring across a beautiful horizon of unexplored land that begged to be conquered.
The lad’s devotion to his task was fervent but the beauty of his tutor was distracting in its own right. Her supple breasts and flat stomach heaved up and down in an irregular pattern that was controlled by the tiny machinations of curious fingers. Berkley was inexperienced and unfamiliar with the workings of the female body but the sweet and salty juices that she was submerging him in quickly became a taste that left the boy with an insatiable thirst.
“Oi! Ya beautiful basssssss- ugh!” She shouted and then bit her own hand as the lad ducked back down to where his baby soft cheeks where sandwiched between her muscular thighs. Her skin smelled like sweat and lust- an aroma that the street rat would grow to cherish. The hiss and grunt were a prelude to her hand squeezing his hair so tight that it hurt but the pressure she applied was down. It was almost as if the woman intended to suffocate him in her sex –a death most pleasing in the mind of the teenager. Strong and rather tall, Berkley was an adult by appearances but lacked any real experience beyond hustling the streets of the filthy town in a way that kept him off the radar of predators. One of the ways he was developing was the use of his friendly personality and charming smile. Women seemed to enjoy his flirtatious nature but this one saw through his mask of confidence.
Aunt to his friend, Eileen had seen the lad try to coax his way into homes for a place to hide or a quick score but his approach was always the same. Like all Sunberth residents, Eileen had a criminal past and a desire to see herself rise above the Slag Heap. She saw potential in the boy and took it upon herself to give him a more useful set of skills that she could easily manipulate for her own purposes. That’s not to say this was purely business. Her husband had been killed years ago so having a virile whipper snapper tend to her neglected urges was a double win for the widow. Her blood boiled and her muscles ached as the tingling sensations of a growing release drew nearer to its climax. Both hands found their way into his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp and keeping his soft lips and tireless tongue exactly where she wanted them.
Berkley drank from the woman like a dog who’d spent weeks in the desert and just found a spring of cool water. The water in this well was warm and slick but seemed to fuel the student’s desire to please his matron. The added strength behind her control and the ever increasing volume of her exclamations seemed to be pointing towards an end –the finish; which, according to Eileen, was the point. Berkley dove in using his mouth and his hands to keep himself from being unseated by the sporadic and powerful movements of her legs. She’d squeeze her thighs together then kick one leg out with a profane curse. One of his strong hands held the back of her leg where it met the curve of her round bottom, his thumb tugging at the skin to give his face more room. His other hand was strumming a piece of her body that took him a long time to find. Eileen explained that it was the key to making a woman happy.
In a squeal of triumph and relief, Eileen went into a series of convulsions that rippled from her core outwards through her entire body. Her legs wrapped around the head of the young man and locked at the ankles. He was stuck and not going anywhere until she was done so Berkley just rode the waves and continued to do as he had been told. He lapped at the rush of fluids but soon found he was being half-smothered and half-drown. The tingle of fear mixed in with his arousal and sent chills up and down his spine. After a chime of spasms and phrases that he’d never heard, Eileen released her student and then shoved him away from her. She curled her legs under her body then sat up on her side using a hand to prop up her head. The grin she wore made her look drunk and she stared at him through half-closed eyes. “Well done, sugar.” Her hand snaked out and tussled his messy hair then traced the glazed smattering of her fluids that lingered around his mouth and chin. “Give me a minute and I’ll show you how to use other parts of your body to make me smile.”