Student Rider free porn video

COPYRIGHT (C) 2006 Dairenn Lombard

The air was crisp with a light breeze through which the autumn leaves fell to the sidewalks of Sunnyvale in November. On a partly cloudy afternoon, a silver Volvo V70 station wagon waited at a residential intersection with its left turn signal flashing. Once another car passed in the opposition direction, the station wagon came around, and parked in front of a small apartment building. The engine was turned off, and after the brake lights went out, the driver door was opened. In a business coat, a slender woman of medium height stood beside the V70. In women’s slacks that matched her coat and heeled black dress shoes, the lady turned around to walk behind the station wagon toward the sidewalk, passing a yellow, reflective bumper sticker marked, “STUDENT DRIVER.” With pep in her step, she briskly approached a door marked 103, and grabbed the brass knocker.
In that studio apartment, a tall, skinny blonde with a boyish look in khaki Dockers and striped dress shirt reviewed the newspaper-type booklet provided by the California Department of Motor Vehicles from his used sofa. Hearing a few knocks on the door, he glanced over his shoulders before he put down the handbook. From the T.V. tray table in front of him, he grabbed his keys and permit. Over by the front door, he opened it to see the lady in the dark blue suit and white blouse on the other side. Her legs in those form-fitting pants were shapely, as was the rest of her body; her fingernails shined with a glossy pink polish, and her cheeks sported a mild peppering of light brown freckles under her thin, almond-shaped eyes. So dark it almost appeared black, her shiny red hair was up in a hairdo that could have been inspired by Audrey Hepburn when she was in her late 20s. “Wow.”
She looked at him curiously and asked, “Wow?”
Awkwardly glancing off to the side, looking for something to say, he nervously answered, “Uh... It’s cold outside.”
“Ah. Yes it is,” she replied in an unmistakably English accent. “Are you Brian?”
He nodded. “Yes! Yes I am, hi.” Brian suddenly reached out to shake her hand. “You must be Miss Leatherby.”
“Call me Susan,” she said, lightly shaking his hand. “You have your learner permit?”
Distracted by her sweet perfume, Brian looked like he didn’t know what Susan was talking about. Then it had occurred to him and promptly held it up. “Yes. This is it right here.”
Holding out her arm out and open hand, Susan pointed to her vehicle and stepped to the side. “This way, please,” said Susan before she watched as Brian step past her off his front porch and onto the walkway as conservatively as he could.
She followed him to the sidewalk where she asked Brian, “So how are you?”
Stuttering, Brian mumbled, “Yeah, I’m--I’m all right, I’m good, thanks.”
Not hearing him, Susan leaned forward and queried, “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m great, thanks for asking,” Brian spoke up. Self-consciously, Brian followed up, “And you?”
The Volvo’s alarm chirped when Susan used her car key remote to unlock the doors. “Splendid. Go ahead and get in on that side, please.” She opened the driver’s side door while Brian opened the passenger side door, and they both got inside.
After they had closed the doors, Brian looked down and noticed a black pipe in front of him above the floor of the car. It was protruding across from the center drive shaft to the right side of the car and had two pedals attached to it. He looked up from them at Susan, who was putting on her seatbelt, and conservatively asked her, “What are these? Extra pedals?”
“Right, these backup pedals allows me to accelerate or stop the car while supervising from the passenger seat,” Susan explained to him. She looked down and pointed at the pedals. “The first way we use them is so that we can focus on one thing at a time.” She inserted her key into the ignition and started the engine when she further explained, “I’ll steer while you just accelerate, or brake so you get used to knowing how much force you need to apply to do either.” Susan released the parking brake and then put the Volvo into drive before continuing, “Then we’ll switch, and all you will do is steering.” She turned on her left turn single and finished, “After a while, we’ll put the two together for you.”
Brian nodded in a reserved way. “Oh!”
Susan turned the steering wheel, let go of the brake and accelerated. “Right now, we’re heading to our back lot so that we can practice without concerning ourselves with traffic. We’ll start with right turns, then left turns.”
“Okay.”
The silver station wagon rolling by blew the fallen leaves on Taafe Street onto the sidewalk. At the end of the block, its brake lights lit up and right turn signal came on upon reaching the stop sign. Moments later, it had turned right onto El Camino Real.
After clicking the left turn signal and mildly accelerating, Susan dutifully checked over her shoulder and her left mirror before gently steering into the left lane. “The key to safe driving is driving defensively,” she began to narrate, “The most important component of defensive driving is keeping track of vehicle in front of, behind and next to you. Watch what other drivers are looking at, and keep an eye on their tires. Many times, people fail to signal prior to changing lanes.”
Listening, Brian responded, “Right.”
“I’ll be providing tips like these as we progress with your lessons.”
Smiling, Brian commented, “Sounds good.” At Mathilda Avenue, their V70 made another right turn before its right turn signal auto-canceled.
Brian looked at Susan and asked, “So, how long do you think this will take?”
“Well, lessons are two hours and--”
“No no,” he interrupted, “what I meant was, how long do you think until I can take the driving test at the DMV?”
Not taking her eyes off the road, Susan nodded. “Oh, well, that all depends on how quickly you become comfortable with something. For instance, if you feel you still need time getting used to changing lanes, then we will work on that until you are confident with that.”
Brian nodded. “That makes sense.”
“However, most students are usually ready to take the test in about six weeks,” she told him. “Why?”
Brian looked down and shrugged. “It’s not that I’m in a hurry, but, the reason I need a driver’s license is because I got offered a job as a courier.”
Susan turned into the left-turn lane approaching Evelyn Avenue and replied, “Oh, I see.”
“Yeah. Heh, I mean, I should already know how to drive but... Oh well.”
Susan glanced over at him and asked, “What?”
Brian shrugged. “Cut backs on programs where I used to stay. It’s kind of a long story.”
Susan looked at him again and asked, “You can tell me.”
“Heh,” Brian shook his head. “You don’t wanna hear about all of that.”
She smiled at him briefly. “I don’t mind.”
As they turned left onto Evelyn, Brian exhaled and started, “Well, back when we--my mom and I--used to live in East Palo Alto, she was a policewoman. But... She passed away in the line of duty--”
“Oh my,” Susan reacted sympathetically.
Brian nodded. “Yeah, so I became an orphan.”
They passed Pastoria Avenue as Susan glanced at him. “What about your father?”
“My mom didn’t know who my father was,” Brian answered in a reserved tone. “It was just me and her in New Brunswick, Canada.”
Susan looked at him for a moment. “She raised you all by herself?”
“Yup.”
Susan shook her head. “(So brave.) It takes a lot to be a single mother. My sister in Colchester is one. It’s so much work, and there is such a stigma. I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about that.”
“She worked really hard.”
Susan glanced at Brian and asked, “So how did you end up out here?”
Feeling slightly more comfortable, Brian looked back and answered, “My mom was having a hard time finding steady work in Saint John so she saved up, sold everything else and made the long journey to California.”
“Where she became a police officer,” Susan surmised.
Brian nodded. “Yeah. It was hard being a Canadian citizen (you know, with the paperwork and all) but she worked it out, temping with various agencies. Plus she had to deal with getting me back into school.”
“So what happened after your mother passed on?”
Sighing, Brian explained, “I went a few places... Richmond has a center where k**s without a home can stay. They helped me out a lot when it comes to getting the job I got when I turned 18 a few months ago.”
“Oh wow; well, all things considered, you certainly have done well for yourself,”
Brian looked away. “I guess. At least, everywhere except for in one area.”
“What do you mean?”
Brian shrugged. “Let’s just say, you don’t get much of a social life living like that.”
“I could imagine,” Susan expressed to him before turning right into the parking lot.
Brian added, “I had friends, but not much more than that. I hung out with guys but that was about it.”
“Well I think that in time, as long as you keep working as hard as you are, and stay as nice as you are, someday, someone is going to come along,” Susan told him before turning right into the parking lot.
“Yeah. Right.”
Susan shook her head. “No, really; I’m serious.” After they stopped, Susan looked Brian in his eyes and continued, “So many other people would have taken the easy way, and done a lot of harm in the process just to get what they want. But you’ve stayed out of trouble.” She reached over to take his hand, and put her other hand on top of his. “That kind of strength and character is a very hard thing for a girl to resist.”
Brian felt the warmth of those words in her touch so deeply, it stunned him. “You think so?” he quietly asked. With a reassuring look in her eye, Susan nodded while smiling at him. Brian started to get a very hopeful look on his face. A very hopeful look.
“Now, let’s begin with the lesson plan, shall we?” Susan asked, breaking the silence of the moment.
Brian blinked, as if coming out of a trance. “Uh. Yeah. Yes, okay.”
Susan opened her notebook and turned the page. “First, we are going to begin with accelerating and braking.”
In the back lot with islands for sidewalks, the silver station wagon crawled toward the mock intersection before suddenly jerking to a halt, squeaking the tires on the pavement. After being rocked by the wild bucking of the vehicle, Susan looked over at a dismayed Brian in the passenger seat. Shaking his head, Brian apologized, “I’m sorry, Miss Leatherby. This is a little trickier than I thought.”
“Brian, you just need to relax a little,” she assured him. “And it’s Susan.”
Brian nervously grinned. “We’ve been at this an hour already. If I haven’t relaxed by now, I doubt it’s just around the corner, Susan.”
Susan shook her head. “You should have a little more faith in yourself. Here. Push your seat as far back as it can go.” She took her foot off the brake and turned the corner while Brian reached for the lever to ease his seat backwards.
In the back lot, she pulled into a garage where the other student driver vehicles were parked. There wasn’t anybody around in there, and since it was still daylight, the overhead lamps weren’t on.
Brian looked outside his passenger window, wondering what they were doing being in the garage as Susan put the Volvo in park, turned off the ignition and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Lean the back of your seat as far as it can go, and then sit up straight,” she said. Brian just looked at her, confused as to the intent. Susan grinned at him and repeated, “Lean your seat back, and then sit up straight.” Brian did was he was told and then Susan instructed, “Ok, now unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over forward.”
Unbuckling his seatbelt, Brian asked, “What is this for?”
“It’s a relaxation technique I use with my extra nervous drivers.”
Brian huffed. “Heh, glad to know I’m a special case.”
“Just close your eyes and take a deep breath, okay, Brian?” directed Susan. With his head down in front of the glove compartment, Brian sighed before going ahead and closing his eyes. Susan reached over to the passenger seat, pulled up the bottom of Brian’s shirt, and then slid her fingers into the top of his Dockers. Brian’s eyes re-opened and shifted from side to side, as he began to feel pressure on a particular spot on his behind. Susan’s eyes were pointed at her hand as she massaged this one spot in a circular motion, very slowly. At first, Brian thought it was acupressure but some hippie chick once tried that on him when he busted his lip, slipping on a staircase and landing on his jaw. It didn’t work at all, but this was different. Very different. First, he felt something at all; second, it felt good--really good. Brian didn’t even feel his mouth fall open, breathing through it. It was almost as though there was something inside at the very spot where he was being massaged.
“How does this feel, Brian?” Susan softly asked him.
Brian hesitated to say. It was certainly relaxing, but it was causing other things to happen as well. He knew he was feeling something starting to happen in the front of his pants when he cautiously told her, “This is good.”
Susan knowingly smiled at him as she slid a little closer to Brian to press a little harder.
“How did you know how to do this?”
Susan dropped her head to her shoulder and explained, “I used to be a massage ther****t.”
Brian thought about that for a moment. “Wow.”
“Yeah; it paid better than this, but some of the people I had to touch weren’t always enjoyable to feel,” Susan mentioned.
Looking from side to side, Brian uttered, “Oh. Yeah, I can understand that.”
After a few moments, Susan expanded her grip at the same time telling him, “You have nice skin, Brian.”
Undoubtedly, Brian was heating up as if he were having a fever. “Heh, thanks.”
“A person should never go very long without being touched,” Susan proclaimed. Waiting for Brian to respond, she asked, “Wouldn’t you agree, Brian?”
Brian took a deep breath and responded, “I wish I could say I don’t know what you mean.”
Susan grinned. “It seemed like it’s been a while for you. So tense looking.”
“It’s.. been a little hard on me...” catching himself, Brian quickly added, “You know, to concentrate.”
“Hehe,” Susan chuckled. “I can tell. Maybe you can focus now,” she suggested, starting to ease up and take her hand away.
Pulling the lever to cause his seat back to rise, Brian sat up straight and took another deep breath. “I don’t know about that, Miss Le... Susan.”
Susan smiled at him. “Come on,” she said, turning the station wagon’s engine back on. “Let’s try those right turns again now, shall we?” Putting the transmission into reverse, Susan then put her arm behind Brian’s seat, and looked over her shoulder to back out of the garage.
In the lobby of the office, the V70 pulled up in front of the glass office door before Susan Leatherby got out of car followed by Brian. She walked around the car’s hood before opening the front door. Brian stepped into the lobby and Susan followed him inside.
“So, that’s $60, right?”
Susan nodded and proceeded past the receptionist’s ‘Out to Lunch’ sign behind the desk. “Uh huh.”
Brian reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and dug around for a bit. “(Ah man, I knew I was going to forget something.)”
“Oh, you don’t have it?”
Brian winced. “Yeah... Aw shoot. Miss Leatherby, I’m really sorry, I--”
“Don’t worry, Brian,” interrupted Susan. “There’s an ATM right by my place.”
“That’s okay?” Brian asked.
Susan smiled brightly. “Mm-hmm!”
Letting out a sigh of relief, Brian said, “Thanks a lot, Susan; I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it,” replied Susan. “Come on.”

In southbound traffic, the silver station wagon rolled down Mary Avenue. Inside of the vehicle, Brian had been trying to think of something to say while Susan drove quietly down the street. Finally, he just decided to tell her, “Hey um; thanks for trying to help me relax. You were really good at that-- You know... That thing you did.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Brian looked over at her and cautiously added, “You were probably a really good Masseuse.” Susan gave him a look as if to say he had no idea. Through the windshield, the traffic signal changed from red to green, and they drove past the street sign El Camino Real.
Brian noticed it and advised, “Hey, didn’t you say the ATM was on--”
“I know, Brian,” interrupted Susan. “We’ll come back that way but I first need to stop by my place.”
“Really?”
Susan nodded. “Yeah. I hate public restrooms, so...”
Brian nodded also and said, “Oh okay, I see.” In front of an apartment building’s driveway, the silver station wagon on the street below approached the driveway gate. With the wrought iron gate automatically rising, the V70 turned right, and entered the underground garage.
Inside of a comparatively neat and well-decorated apartment were a variety of paintings and plants. The front door had been opened and Susan stepped inside with Brian behind her. “I could have waited in the car,” he remarked.
“No, the fumes under there are really bad for you,” she told him. “Even with the windows rolled up.” Brian nodded.
Susan walked through the kitchen, pointing to Dixie cups on top of a five-gallon water cooler on the way to her bathroom. “I have water in case you’re thirsty.”
Brian waved and smiled. “Thanks.” Susan smiled back as she entered the bathroom. In the living room, Brian looked around himself in her apartment. He really wasn’t used to this kind of hospitality. Brian mostly had formal relationships with adults; the reason for him being nervous always leading him to fall back into calling people by their title and last name only. With the way most places where he grew up had been run, Brian seldom had the opportunity to socialize with girls his own age. He's seen pictures of women in various states of dress and undress from time to time, and of course has seen women in public places, but only talked to them like one would to a friendly stranger. However, being in Susan’s apartment, as uncomfortable as the unusual nature of the situation made him; Brian’s curiosity did get the best of him. Brian felt like exploring. So walking about, he started to take in his surroundings.
On one wall was a “Class of 1994” graduation group photograph. The significance to him being that Susan had to be at least 28. She also had a curiously small television set positioned in such a way as to suggest she rarely watched it. Her books were a lot more readily accessible, so he decided to browse the titles. Brian saw many mystery novels, history books, cookbooks, a dictionary, that sort of thing. He knelt down one level in her bookshelf and saw magazines like Reader’s Digest, Time Magazine, but then he looked down at the bottom shelf. There, Brian saw titles like, “Tantra: Path of Ecstasy,” “Tao Paths to Love,” and the ever famous “Kama Sutra.” Then, even further beyond was a black, unlabeled binder. Brian thought of reaching for it but thinking better of it, he quickly withdrew his fingers. Standing up all of a sudden, he looked around, trying to mentally-digest what he had discovered. “Okay...” A bit warm then, Brian left the bookshelf to walk into the kitchen for that cup of water.
Taking a Dixie cup off the top of the stack, Brian held it under the cooler nozzle. Before he could push the button, he noticed something out the corner of his eye: The bathroom door ajar, Susan was standing in front of the toilet, and had just pulled her pants up over her thong panties.
Brian couldn’t breathe and it felt like his heart had squeezed its way into his throat. Somehow, he managed to realize she could turn around and see him, so Brian stepped back out of the kitchen with the empty paper cup still in his hand.
A few moments later, Brian heard water flow from the bathroom sink’s faucet for a few seconds while watching from the living room. When the water was shut off, he heard Susan mumble to herself, “Oh dear. (This door is so warped from the steam from the shower...)” and then he couldn’t make out the rest. Shortly thereafter, she re-emerged and asked Brian, “Ready to go?”
“Uh huh, yep, sure,” Brian stuttered.
Susan smiled. “How was the water?”
“What?” Brian looked down into his empty cup and answered. “Oh! Good,” he blurted out, nodding. “Thank you.”
Susan took a deep breath and said, “Well, let’s go then.”

On the residential street in front of Brian’s apartment, the silver station wagon had rolled to a stop before Susan put the transmission in park. “So, same time next week?”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, that’s cool.”
“Excellent,” commented Susan. “I’m so glad you’re my last student for the day.”
He looked at Susan and asked, “Oh really?”
She nodded and smiled. “Well, Brian. See you next time,” putting out her hand. Brian shook Susan’s soft hand, and opened the door to get out of the car.
Standing on the sidewalk, he closed the door and moments later, the silver station wagon had pulled away. Brian looked at the V70, with the yellow ‘Student Driver’ sticker on the tailgate, knowing the next six days were going to be filled with anticipation.

* * *

His old computer didn’t go very fast, and his dial-up connection to the Internet didn’t help, but Brian had to know what Susan was doing to him last week. So, on Google, Brian’s first query was, “Pressure points on the butt.” Not surprisingly, his search yielded results that were hardly helpful. Mostly padded seats for motorcycle riders, martial arts techniques for incapacitating an opponent, and a bunch of other completely unrelated sites altogether. Eventually however, something did dawn on him that night. To Brian’s chagrin, it involved reading gay advice websites. Nevertheless, he did find the information he had learned to be useful. Brian discovered the prostate could indirectly be stimulated by such a deep tissue massage in that region. In Brian’s mind, this connected well with the type of books Susan had on her shelf; she seemed noticeably well informed on a lot of things like this. There has to be so many other ways to relax someone through massage, Brian thought to himself. So, why would she start there? The answer to that question too risqué to even think--but Brian knew the implication. Now, the matter became what he should do about it. At that moment, Brian thought back to what he saw while trying to get that cup of water in Susan’s kitchen.
Opening a cluttered drawer in his nightstand, Brian shoved a few things aside to dig up a very small digital camera. Picking it up, he looked at it, knowing he wanted pictures. Brian wasn’t exactly sure just what he was going to do to get them though. He didn’t have much time to figure it out either, as Susan would be by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll figure something out, Brian thought to himself as he turned on the old camera to check its batteries. Satisfied with the meter indicating the remaining life of the batteries, Brian turned off the little camera, and slipped it into the pocket of the windbreaker he was going to wear the next day. You never know when an opportunity will present itself.

The next afternoon, after the second week’s lesson, Brian and Susan rode together in the silver Volvo as she drove him from the office where they made the following week’s appointment. Brian had no idea how he managed to ever concentrate long enough on steering to avoid running over the curb. At least, not a second time anyway. The whole time, Brian could not take his eyes off of Susan’s knees--or what was above them, exposed by the skirt she was wearing that matched her open business jacket. And Susan’s dark hair was up again, just as it was before. It took all one hundred twenty minutes of their time together for him just to come up with a little bit of small talk. So, Brian smiled and said, “Boy, I’ll tell you; it’ll be nice to be driving so I can get some real groceries for a change. So tired of T.V. dinners.”
“Oh that stuff’s disgusting; I could never eat it.”
Brian shrugged. “Eh, you do what you have to do when you don’t know how to cook, but I’m gonna learn. Either that or get a microwave.”
“Oh no,” Susan interjected, “you need to eat real food. Oh my, now I see why you’ve become so skinny.”
Become? Thought Brian to himself.
Shaking her head, Susan added, “You’re going to make yourself sick eating that rubbish.”
“(Haha, she said rubbish.)”
Not hearing him, she continued, “How would you like to have a real home cooked meal?”
“I would like that a lot. I would also like a Mercedes, but--”
Susan interrupted, “No, silly; I’m serious! Would you like to eat supper at my place?” And after asking, she looked into his eyes for the answer before looking back at the road.
Brian looked at Susan for a while. “Really? Aheh. Well, I don’t suppose there’d be anything wrong with that. Sure. Sure, I’d like to come.”
“Terrific,” Susan cheered. Brian found the offer intriguing but just shrugged and enjoyed the fact that he’s going to have some company for once.

In Susan’s apartment, Brian followed her inside yet again with his windbreaker jacket on. Susan stepped out of her black heels and walked in her hose toward her bedroom. “I just need to change before I start cooking. The remote control for the tele is somewhere under that pile of magazines there in case you wanted to watch something.”
“Thanks,” Brian replied, bowing his head slightly.
Susan started to close her bedroom door before she told him, “I’ll be right back.” Smiling, Brian modestly waved as he, once again, stood there by himself, looking around. Although, this time, his eyes immediately found those questionable books on the lowest shelf in that obscured corner. Brian noticed his hands and thought he might want to wash them before eating so he called out, “Susan, where is your bathroom again?” Hanging up her jacket inside of the bedroom, Susan heard him continue, “I want to wash my hands.”
“Just go in through the kitchen,” she called back.
In the living room, Brian called back, “Thanks!” before stepping into the kitchen. He made his way past the water heater before pushing open the already ajar bathroom door. In front of the bathroom sink, he saw another door inside of the bathroom that was already ajar. Without thinking, Brian looked to see where that door went.
From Brian’s perspective, Susan was standing in front of her bureau with just her bra and skirt on.
In the cracked open door, Brian’s eye widened, realizing this was her bedroom.
Inside of the bathroom, he looked away from the sliver of light that came through from the bedroom to think. Almost instantly, Brian thought to grip a boxy lump in the pocket of his jacket. My camera, he remembered while digging it out. The battery life indicator was already down one notch from having accidentally switched it on at some point that day. Brian then looked back up and through the partially open bathroom door.
Gingerly, Susan negotiated pulling down the super thin zipper in the back of her black skirt with her back to the bathroom door through which Brian had been looking.
The viewfinder of his very small pen camera soon covered Brian’s eye in that partially open door.
From Brian’s point of view, the top of Susan’s skirt in the back was split apart as she took her hands inside the waist to slide the skirt down off her shapely hips. As soon as her pantyhose-covered bottom was visible, a picture had been taken. Then, Susan peeled the dark, translucent, nylon material down from her hips and past her behind, further revealing--much to Brian’s delight--a pair of lacy thong panties. He took a picture of that as well as Susan bending down further to push the hose past her knees and down her creamy, white calves. Brian was at least 11 feet away, but her curving legs appeared smooth as milk as she pulled the hose off of the ends of her beautifully arched feet.
Standing in front of her bureau, Susan took a presumably more comfortable bra out of the dresser drawer and closed it. Then she reached for her chest to unclasp the front hook of the nude color bra that she was wearing.
From Brian’s perspective, Susan’s arms fanned out, each hand holding the end of a cup before pulling the straps off of her shoulders and back. Too stunned to take another picture, Brian watched Susan put on the black, rear-hooking bra. Suddenly, Susan started to turn around while doing so.
Fearing she would catch the sight of him, Brian quickly eased back out of the bathroom.
Standing next to the water heater then, Brian looked at his camera a moment later, and then quickly turned it off before checking over his shoulder. Brian then remembered why he came in there in the first place and soon realized Susan might have expected to hear running water. He didn’t want to turn on the water in the bathroom so as to alert her to the fact that the door was open. So, Brian moved over to the kitchen sink, and turned on the faucet.
In the living room, the bedroom door opened and Susan stepped out in flip-flops, sweat pants and a blue camisole top. “Brian?”
Standing in front of the sink, Brian turned off the faucet and looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Why are you washing your hands in the kitchen?” she asked while approaching the kitchen.
Brian watched her come in to take meat out of the refrigerator while thinking of what to say. “Ah, I couldn’t find the soap, in there. I saw Dawn and thought, hey, soap is soap, right?”
She closed the refrigerator door and told him, “But there was liquid soap right there on the bathroom sink.”
In a somewhat exaggerated movement, Brian looked behind himself and then again at her, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “Really?? I couldn’t find it.”
Susan shook her head, not caring to keep talking about it any longer. “Well, you’d best clear out of here so I can get started.”
Nearly hopping, Brian headed for the living room. “Right you are.”
“I hope you like chicken and dumplings with steamed vegetables.”
Brian stood in front of the couch and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, that sounds good.”
Susan took a casserole dish from the cupboard and smiled at Brian. “Go on, have a seat.”
Brian looked behind himself and sat down. “Oh! Thank you.”
“Read much?” she asked him.
Caught off guard, Brian asked, “I’m sorry? Oh. Sadly no. I, uh, I’m more of a hands-on type of guy. I guess that’s why I’m packing boxes at a shipping company and not, like, programming computers (or whatever) like everybody else around here.”
“Well somebody has to do those sorts of things you know,” Susan commented while taking utensils out of the drawers.
Brian smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it’s just that, you know, doesn’t pay well.”
Susan turned on the oven and told Brian, “Believe it or not, Brian, I didn’t always used to be such a bookworm. But when I was a little girl living in Essex, I discovered books that my brothers tried to hide from me.”
At first, Brian thought this was going to be a boring story--admittedly stereotyping because of her proper English accent but then he looked up half way through what Susan just and asked, “Oh?”
“Oh yes,” Susan answered. “It did quite a job of opening my eyes too.” She put a pot of water on the stove before turning on the burner and adding, “I have to give credit to those stories every time I think back to any number of experiences I ‘may’ have had. And, will continue to have,” she whimsically finished, looking directly up at Brian with the slightest hint of a smile. Brian could only look back and wonder where this night would take him.
“What do you like to drink with your supper?”
It took him a moment but Brian finally uttered. “Water. Water would be fine.”
Without the kitchen light on, it was much dimmer in the living room where Brian sat opposite Susan at her dining table. Brian’s plate was nearly empty before he went ahead and finished his glass of water. “Well, Susan, you’ve definitely convinced me to try my hand at culinary skill. Tonight’s meal was amazing. Thank you.”
“Oh, Brian, thank you for coming,” Susan replied with a smile. “I don’t often get to cook for many people. So it’s a pleasure.”
Wiping his lip with a napkin, Brian put it down and looked at her curiously. “You don’t? Any friends come over?”
“I haven’t been here long so, not too many friends,” Susan answered before looking up at him with yet another warm smile.
Brian was starting to get a little nervous again when he tried to say, “Heh, I need to think about scr****g together the cash to pay a trip to where ever you came from one of these days.”
Softly, Susan asked him, “Why?”
Totally unprepared for the question, Brian broke eye contact to look down and shrug. “Well, it’s just. I mean, I know I’m young and all but, I haven’t met too many people who’re so good at. You know. Good at--”
“Establishing a rapport,” Susan said, finishing his sentence.
Brian nodded. “Yeah. It’s like you went out of your-- Well I don’t want to imply any-- Actually, well, heh, never mind.”
Standing up, Susan looked at him. “Brian, Brian, why are you so tense all the time?”
Laughing now, Brian smiled and shook his head. “I, I really don’t, I honestly don’t know.”
Susan smiled at him, standing closer now. “Look at you: interrupting yourself, turning your eyes away from me.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m kind of a dork like that,” Brian admitted, really squirming now.
“I don’t think so. I think it’s kind of cute.” Feeling really out of his element, Brian simply froze; it was almost as though he was afraid to let her know that he was attracted to her. In fact, Brian knew that’s what it was, but what he didn’t know was why. What would be problem be?
Susan knelt down beside him and said, “You know, now that we’re here, where my couch is, I could really show you what I can do.” Snapping his neck, Brian just looked at her all of a sudden.
“I could only use one of my hands in the car last week, and I think what you need is a really good massage to help you relax, thoroughly and completely.”
Brian raised his head, realizing what she meant. “Oh!”
Standing back up again, Susan put out her hand and said, “Come here.”

Emerging from the bedroom was Brian in a pink, cotton towel wrapped around his waist. Susan looked up at Brian from the last of the scented candles she’d just lit. “Sorry about the colour of the towel; that’s all I had.”
Grinning, Brian waved it off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Lie face down on the couch,” directed Susan, walking away from the candles burning on the coffee table in front of the couch. Doing what he was told, Brian went ahead and climbed onto the couch and let his head lay on the couch’s armrest. In her bedroom, Susan pulled open a dresser drawer and took out a bottle of oil.
Brian heard the bedroom door close before watching Susan’s knees from her walking over to him. In an attempt at small talk out of nervousness, Brian told her, “What a quiet place you have.”
“I know, I got really lucky with the walls apparently,” Susan mentioned to him. “Sometimes that really comes in handy when you really want privacy. Now, I want you to close your eyes, take a deep breath and just relax.” Susan opened the cap to the bottle of oil and started applying it to Brian’s back. Brian’s eyes opened because the oil was quite cool, but then the warm palms of Susan’s hands pressed onto his back, and started to glide about. Susan felt Brian tense up after she started squeezing his muscles, almost like he were trying to hold something back. So she told him, “Let go, Brian. Breathe.” With his head on the armrest of the couch, exhaled from his mouth and closed his eyes again.
As she began to knead Brian’s shoulders, Susan told him, “You know, Brian, I have a confession to make.”
Brian didn’t hear her say anything further and felt awkward about asking but he couldn’t simply avoid saying anything. So Brian asked, “You do?”
“I asked to be your instructor at the driving school,” Susan admitted.
Slightly looking up, Brian asked, “Really?”
“When your name came up in the list of new customers, I recognized it from when I was visiting a friend’s house a few months ago,” answered Susan while looking up into space. As she started to remember what she saw, Susan softly finished, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget what I saw either.”

On the patio in the backyard of a house in sunglasses wearing a white button-up shirt with white Capri jeans and brown sandals, Susan sat in a white, plastic lawn chair at the parasol topped table with another lady in sunglasses, sneakers, shorts and a t-shirt. While drinking iced from cups with a slice of lemon on the rim, the lady told Susan, “I’m just waiting for the doctor to finish with how much he thinks physical therapy will be. Once he has that, he’ll fax it to the claims adjuster, and he’ll get his check. Which will be great, ‘cause right now, the car is not holding up well.”
Susan nodded. “I see.”
“It’s just hard to get to the appointments and all, you know, ‘cause he’s gotta take more time off from work, and he really can’t afford that.”
Hearing a loud buzzing sounding, Susan looked around and asked, “What was that?”
The lady put down her drink and swallowed. “Oh. That’s just Brian Hollister, the--”
Susan couldn’t hear the rest of what she said because the noise became much louder. “The what!?”
“The guy I hired to mow my lawn!”
Leaned over, Susan nodded. “Oh!”
“So, as I was saying, the point--” but the noise from the lawnmower increased even greater as it got pushed into the backyard. The sound drew Susan’s attention over to where Brian had emerged from the side of the house pushing the lawnmower. In just work shoes and blue jeans, Brian’s arms bulged from pushing the gas-powered machine over the grass. Susan studiously observed a drop of sweat drip down his abs as he walked by her. And while mowing the rearmost end of the yard, she could see the sheen of his moist back in the sunlight of that spring afternoon.

“Mrs. Gentry’s house?” Brian quietly asked himself, trying to remember when he worked for her. “That must’ve been--like--six, seven months ago.”
Susan smiled. “I hadn’t planned running into you at all. But, when I heard your name, I just had to see if it was the same person I saw at her house, and so I asked them to assign you to me.” That would explain all the hospitality, Brian thought to himself.
Susan’s hands had already squeezed and kneaded muscles above and below the towel that had been folded over Brian between his waist and upper thighs. So, she stopped to drop more oil into the palm of her already slippery hand and rubbed her hands together.
On the back of Brian’s thighs, Susan laid her hands on each leg, and rubbed up and down, each stroke getting a little bit higher each time. She was starting to push the towel up just a little bit before pulling his legs apart. Susan then started sliding her fingers along the insides of his thighs, making the trip between his knees and his rear as long as possible. Eventually, she let her fingers linger in the space between Brian’s legs and started gently brushing her fingertips across the base of his sac.
Starting to breathe through his mouth now, Brian’s reaction was to somewhat lift up his hips.
Susan lightly dragged her soft finger up and down the flesh between Brian’s sac and the inside of his rear end, using her other hand to raise the towel further. She gave him a light squeeze on the bottom before letting her fingers trail underneath Brian in the space between his balls and the couch. Susan reached under Brian and cupped his testicles, letting her two longest fingers rest on the softness of the underside of his manhood on either side of his urethra. Any remaining flaccidity had been entirely rectified by the teasingly light pressure of Susan’s touch.
Leaning down by his ear, Susan whispered to Brian, “I want you to sit up,” while taking her hands away from him. Self-conscious about his erection, Brian reached over himself to hold down his towel as he leaned up to sit facing Susan. She sat down beside him on the couch, and laid his towel over his abdomen, exposing Brian’s penis. He looked down at what she’d done with the towel before Susan brought his eyes to hers using her fingers on his chin.
Brian hadn’t realized Susan was sitting so close to him.
He thought she was going to say something, the way her lips sat parted. But Susan was only looking into his eyes while he felt her oil-slick hands hold his stiffness.
By the golden brown light of the candles, Susan and Brian sat eye-to-eye together on the couch while her fist slowly milked his cock. Brian felt the inside of Susan’s thumb and finger’s knuckles aimed directly on the center of his penis, squeezing his urethra. It felt so much differently than when alone; the rate of the strokes was consistent and rhythmic. Brian could neither speed it up nor slow it down, giving an exciting unpredictability to the acceleration of his arousal. Brian’s eyes eventually fell shut and Susan leaned closer. She blew on his ear before brushing her lips there. When she pulled back, Susan saw the effect of her subtle moves by the look on Brian’s face. When Brian opened his eyes again, Susan seemed to drift her lips dangerously close to Brian’s. Though they never touched, he could feel her warm breath gently caressing his lips.
In her hand, Susan felt a contraction and when she next stroked upward, a clear, oily drop grew out of the opening of Brian’s penis. Her stroking him at this comparatively slow but steady pace was causing even more of this pre-cum to surface.
Brian’s legs had spread even further apart Susan used her other hand to reach past his scrotum, and press against the inside of his behind. Rotating her fingers deeply, Susan kept feeling the contractions within his body. The head of Brian’s cock was totally covered in pre-cum he started to breathe more heavily.
“Does that feel good?” Susan nearly whispered. Nodding his head was all that Brian could do.
“It looks good,” she commented, her eyes down on his lap. “Good enough to taste.”
On side of Brian’s hardness facing his abdomen, toward the base and on the sides, Susan’s thumb squeezed that area even tighter as this is about when and where it really starts burning. When Brian started breathing really deeply, Susan told him, “I want you to look at me when you cum.” Just hearing her pretty voice use those words made him want to right then and there. And it was happening: on his own, Brian might have sped up or slowed down to prolong it, or just get it over with; but here, no one knew when he was going to lose control. Brian could feel it getting closer. He would’ve lost it by now had it have been him doing this alone. But no slower and no faster, the up and down motion was all the same, and Brian couldn’t take it anymore. His balls were up tight against his cock by then, and Susan’s two fingers were under them, massaging his insides.
While Susan and Brian sat on the couch together behind the candles on the coffee table, his mouth hung open as he started to breathe harder and harder. Locked onto Brian’s eyes, Susan gave him a look as if she were saying to give in to her. She never stopped looking into his eyes when Brian finally exclaimed, “AH! AHA!” There was a short jump of whiteness before a much bigger rise of his cream leaped into a tall band that landed on his chest and most of the towel. “Mmm, that’s it,” moaned Susan.
“Oh! Oh my God!” he kept gasping. Stopped, Susan just held Brian’s cock as he uncontrollably contracted, ejecting more of the mess onto her hand and the towel. Then again, and then once more. Brian was finally able to start catching his breath while still more of the white cloudy liquid ran out of the top of his penis. Her hand covered in his cum, Susan started to squeeze out of the last of it.
Brian looked at her, not knowing what to say, but Susan looked at him, knowing nothing needed to be said at all. And so Susan arched forward, and pressed her lips against Brian’s. His eyes closed as he enjoyed her kiss before she leaned back to look into his eyes once more. Brian opened his eyes, smiled and took a deep breath.

* * *

Not a day went by in the week that followed the night Brian ate at Susan’s apartment that he hadn’t thought of what had come after. Unfortunately, it also stuck in Brian’s mind how skinny he seemed looked to Susan. Brian decided to see if borrowing a friend’s Bowflex resistance training workbench would help. While he worked out, Brian thought about something else. The night Susan took him home from her place, and before Brian got out of the car, she gave him her telephone number. He meant to call but he had no idea what to say. What Brian wanted to tell her was how much he loved what they did together, and how much he’d love it if they could do more of that. This wasn’t exactly something he was comfortable talking about; Brian lacked the experience on an acceptable way of bringing it up. However, at the same time, Brian felt bad he hadn’t called her at all. So he was a bit anxious about how things would be when Susan showed up for this third lesson behind the wheel.
“Same time next week?” asked Susan, standing outside of Brian’s apartment.
He unlocked and then opened the door, answering, “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”
“Great.”
Brian turned around and looked at Susan. “By the way, I... I did mean to call you. It’s just that... I didn’t know...what to, well, say.” Susan looked at him as though she knew Brian meant to tell her more than that.
Brian looked away and added, “Actually, more like, I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say.”
“Brian, have you ever been with a woman before?” asked Susan, point-blank.
The question shook Brian and he stuttered, “Ah, uh... Well, how do you mean?”
“You know; gotten on with.” She grinned and further hinted, “Shagged.”
Starting to blush now, Brian grinned somewhat and shrugged. “No, actually. In fact, you’re the first girl to ever touch-- Well, you know.”
Susan smiled at Brian, thinking how adorable he looked. Thinking how hard it is to find a man in this country made like this person. Sharp yet humble, and strong yet gentle. Brian would be a man she could show the way. All of a sudden, Susan had then caught view of the peculiar looking Bowflex sitting in Brian’s living room past his arm. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” asked Brian before noticing what she was looking at. “Oh. I borrowed that from a friend. It’s called a Bowflex.”
“Can I see it?”
In sneakers, sweat pants and a white t-shirt, Brian stepped inside his sunlit studio apartment, and held out his arm, welcoming her. “Sure.” Susan stepped passed him in her heeled, open-toed shoes to go with the pants suit she wore two weeks prior. Brian followed her inside before closing his door. As Susan looked at the bench with all the metal cables hooked up to the arms, Brian stepped over to it.
“What do you do with this?”
Brian sat down on the workbench and replied, “Well, you’ve seen those weight machines at gyms, right?” Susan nodded.
“Well, instead of using metal weights, you attach these metal cords to these flexible arms to add pounds. If you want to add more weight, you add more cords,” Brian explained. “And you can do all kinds of exercises on these too.”
Susan took her purse off her shoulder and sat it on the floor. “Could you demonstrate for me?”
Smiling Brian nodded, put his leg over the other side of the leather-covered bench and leaned back on the machine. “Sure, this is just a simple triceps pull.” Reaching up, he grabbed the handles of the machine and with his feet flat on the floor, and back against the leather bench back, Brian pulled down his arms down. When his elbows reached a 45-degree angle in a steady motion, Brian paused before carefully letting his arms fully extend over his head.
Susan watched him repeat this, her eyes trained on the muscles she hadn’t made out before then becoming quite defined in his upper arms. Because of reaching up, Brian’s t-shirt rose up a few inches to expose his abdomen. Despite his thin build, Brian’s abdomen looked as good as it did when she first saw it. “Looks simple enough to do.”
Brian finished his set and added, “Hopefully, my friend will let me keep it long enough for this to do me any good.”
“I don’t think it’ll take very long,” remarked Susan.
Brian leaned forward, looking up at her and asked, “Really?”
Taking a couple of steps closer to him, Susan started rubbing her right calf against her left shin, commenting, “You already look really good using that thing.”
Caught off guard, Brian rubbed the back of his head. “Heh. Thanks.”
Looking down at him, Susan asked, “Show me how you grab those handles again?”
“Oh you mean like this?” replied Brian, leaning against the back of the Bowflex to grab the handles.
Susan stepped forward so as to put her legs behind Brian’s before he watched Susan begin her descent onto the bench.
Sitting down, the spandex in the pants of Susan’s suit flexed to the shape of her round bottom while, in front, Brian watched the flat front of those pants crease up, and into all of the right places.
She laid her forearms on his shoulders, and pulled herself close enough to feel his crotch against hers. “Mm,” Brian moaned, feeling a very warm pressure against his groin.
Susan moved her fingers all over Brian’s chest while writhing against him. “Mmm so sexy,” she moaned about him.
Brian was going to take his hands off the handles to reach for Susan’s behind, but her arms got in the way when she went to unbutton her jacket. When she pulled it off her shoulders, Brian saw Susan’s dark brown nipples through her white tank top. The thought of the only thing between his eyes and Susan’s braless tits being that thin white fabric instantly gave rise to Brian’s situation below. And she could tell. Rising up to get a little bit closer, Susan sat on Brian’s lap, and started to grind onto his ever-stiffening thickness. “That’s it, Brian. I can feel it,” she moaned to him.
Brian put his hands on Susan’s hips, which gyrated forth as the top of her pink thong began to creep up the top of her dark pants. Brian slid his hands down Susan’s back, and onto her ass, and indulged in the feeling her soft bottom through those stretchy pants.
His eyes closed, Brian’s head was dropped back while Susan looked at her hands down between their two bodies. The outline of his thick wood was clearly framed in his gray sweats from her fingers tracing its borders. Tempted by how its head was so close to the top the drawstring of Brian’s pants, Susan decided to slide back. Her knees still hung over Brian’s thighs as she began to reach inside of his pants.
In front of her waist, Susan’s hand had pulled Brian’s cock out of his sweat pants and started pulling on it. The motion so aggressive, his balls had risen with every stroke.
Brian brought his head down and looked at her; and just like before, Susan looked Brian in his eyes as her arm started to smoothly rock. She used her left hand to cup his sac while her right hand continued to jerk the staff.
On the bench of the Bowflex, Susan scooted back and leaned over the head of Brian’s penis before giving it a lick. Stroking him a few more times, she licked along the sides until pulling it toward her lips and taking it into her mouth. Susan swallowed the head and sucked on it, feeling the shape of it within her mouth; she focused her tongue on the small dip where the head dipped into the opening of Brian’s cock.
Brian’s forehead wrinkled and his jaw clenched as the waves of sensation from Susan’s wet and hot mouth caused every muscle in his body to contract. Breathing out of his mouth, Brian felt like he could have cum right then and there but that for some reason, he felt as though he needed more. Brian certainly appreciated that, as he certainly wanted it. Susan started moaning as she sucked on his head while stroking the rest of his erection. Vibrations from this moaning were very intense, as this activity had taken advantage of his increasingly sensitive dick.
In front of Brian, Susan’s head moved back and forth in front of his body on the Bowflex and he gripped the handles.
Holding his cock in one hand, Susan stopped to go lower and flick the soft skin in the center of Brian’s testicles with the tip of her tongue, lifting each one up with other licks. But then, Susan returned to sucking on him--only harder now.
Brian slid down on the bench, and Susan backed up so now her head was moving up and down. She stopped once again to, slowly, squeeze out the pre-cum in his urethra. Watching it bead up on the head of his dick, Susan smiled at Brian before licking it off and sucking some more.
“Oh you’re gonna make me cum,” he told her. “Ooh!”
Susan stopped but continued stroking, a little bit faster than before. “Are you getting closer?”
“Oh yeah,” Brian answered, short of breath. “Oh man, I’m gonna cum.” Susan grabbed onto Brian’s ass while slowly sucking the head of his penis, standing straight up from his flat body. She could hear his breathing getting louder, and louder, and louder until he was gasping and moaning. “Ah, ohh!” but she didn’t stop. While he came, Susan just kept slowly sliding her wet lips up and down the top of Brian’s cock, just below the head. “Ha’ah! Ha’ah! Oh God! Ohh,” exclaimed Brian, as his orgasm drew to an end. Once Susan took away her lips, she used her thumb and index finger to squeeze the top and bottom sides of his shaft just above his balls. As she squeezed the urethra up to the head, a little white drop of cum beaded up on the tip of his swollen hard on. Susan licked it off, and started to stroke very, very gently as Brian began to calm down.

* * *

At Susan’s dining table, Brian sat with her as they finished eating pasta. “Brian, I must say your driving skills are improving much faster than I thought. For most of my students, I don’t try to take them on the freeway until their sixth week but I think you’ll be ready to go next week.”
Brian looked up and smiled. “Really? That’s awesome; when do you think I’ll be able to take the driving test at the DMV?”
“Normally, we schedule a test for you if everything goes okay with the freeway portion,” she answered. “And I think that’ll go nicely, considering how well you took those turns in the Stanford parking lot.”
Still smiling, Brian nodded. “Cool.”
Taking the napkin out of the top of her lavender silk blouse, Susan stood up in her skirt and walked away in her open-toed shoes over to the television set. “I rented a movie; I thought you might like to watch it.”
Brian wasn’t expecting that so he responded, “Oh! Sure, what did you get?”
“Let’s see. I got a few movies a couple of days ago; haven’t had a chance to watch them all.” Picking up the DVD case, she read the title. “Man on Fire. It looked good but I never had the opportunity to see it at the theater.”
Brian nodded. “Oh yeah, with Denzel Washington; cool. Yeah, we can watch that.”
“Great. Let me just store the rest of the food in the kitchen in the refrigerator first,” Susan told him, walking back over to the table.
The digital clock on the oven in the kitchen read 11:29 as Denzel Washington, as ‘Creasy,’ said on Susan’s television, “That's what everybody keeps saying: “I'm just a professional.” Everybody keeps saying that to me. “I'm just a professional,” “I'm just a professional.” I'm getting sick and tired of hearing that.” Brian was sitting in the easy-boy chair while Susan was lying on the couch with her shoes off. He looked over at the clock and blinked. “Oh man, Susan; it’s getting pretty late.” When he didn’t hear her saying anything, Brian looked and then saw that Susan had actually fallen asleep. Taking a deep breath to get the strength for standing up, Brian climbed to his feet, and quietly stepped over to the coffee table to pick up the remote controls. After looking at the remote controllers for a while in the dark, TV-light lit room, Brian eventually looked at the TV before aiming the remote. The DVD was stopped, and then the television set was turned off. The only source of light in the living room then was the street lamps outside as Brian stepped quietly into Susan’s bedroom.
He cautiously walked over to the bathroom where he’d use it real quick before going to bed but strangely; doing that always woke him back up again. That night would be no exception. Brian decided to turn on the lamp on Susan's nightstand beside her bed after standing around in the dark, and then sat down on the floor. He stared into space as his mind began to wander. Brian was starting to feel a little disappointed that nothing happened that night, unlike how things have been, every time he and Susan had been together. Brian never expected anything to happen; neither then, nor previously--but the absence of it at the time was noticeable.
Then Brian realized what was in the pocket of his slacks. Print outs from his digital camera from the photographs he shot from the bathroom while Susan had been changing. Taking out the pictures, Brian looked at them, and thought he could still have some fun that night anyway. Checking over his shoulder, Brian put the pictures on the floor and stood up. Unbuckling his belt, Brian unhooked his slacks and pulled down the zipper. With the weight of his wallet and keys in his pockets, Brian’s pants dropped to the floor. After Brian pulled his sweater over his head, he bent over to push off his boxers.
Over by the pictures of Susan, Brian had knelt down, and as he started off by pulling slowly on himself, he started to think about the fact that, indeed, he hasn’t seen much of Susan’s backside. If those pictures were any clue as to what she’d been hiding all this time under her clothes, Brian felt he’d be in for quite a treat if ever got to see more of her uncovered derriere. Just the thought of getting to see it in person was fully arousing. While rocking his arm, Brian paid especially close attention to the picture where Susan’s foot is up right under her behind after having taken the nylon off that leg.
The bedroom door already ajar, Susan quietly entering the room saw Brian with his forearm in front of himself and balls swinging below his ass. At that moment, Brian’s eyes were closed--fantasizing about when she brought him off with her hands.
“And how come I wasn’t invited to the party?”
“Ho!” exclaimed Brian as his initial reaction was to fall forward on his pictures to cover them up. Scrambling to gather up the photographs, Brian sounded flummoxed when telling her, “Susan, you scared me; I didn’t hear you come in.”
Walking past him, Susan looked down on the floor and asked, “What’ve you got there, Brian?”
“Oh, uh, just ah, some stuff,” Brian started saying almost before Susan finished asking the question. He tried to walk off but his ankles were still in the pants so after twisting his legs, Brian fell down and dropped the pictures. “Ow.”
“Careful, Brian,” warned Susan before looking over at the pictures. Her face wasn’t in them, but the room was clearly the one the both of them were in, and so Susan looked back at Brian. “Brian, where did you get these?”
"Oh shit," Brian whispered in soliloquy, getting on his feet, and covering himself with his hands.
Then holding the pictures, Susan looked sideways at Brian and asked, “Well?”
Looking at what she held in her hand, Brian answered, “I, ok, listen; I happened to have my digital camera with me-–a small one... Sometimes I leave it in my jacket or whatever. When I saw you, I guess I kinda wanted something to remember you by. I didn’t think you’d, or we’d... Ugh.”
Susan looked at the pictures and then put them on the nightstand before looking at him. “You know, Brian... If pictures were all that you wanted...” Brian swallowed, anticipating the tongue-lashing of a lifetime.
“...all you had to do was ask,” she finished. Brian looked surprised.
Susan slipped out of her open-toed shoes and continued, “But I don’t know why you would only want pictures, when you can do what you were doing, with me, right here, in front of you.” She knew Brian didn’t know what to do with a lady before, and certainly had no idea when or if he’d ever get the kind of opportunity she’s given to him again. An opportunity given so he could have a positive experience with learning what to do with a lady. When he knew what he had to do, to see what he wanted to see, Brian wouldn’t need to do things like that anymore. Because he would have the confidence to go for the real thing. Susan knew that Brian was driven by a force. A force that she understood well. A force that drives us all. And Susan couldn’t punish him for that. She unzipped the side of her skirt and asked, “Don’t you think it’d be more exciting with somebody watching you?”
Brian watched her unbutton her lavender, silk blouse and just nodded quietly.
After unbuttoning the last button, Susan let the two sides of the blouse rest on her braless chest. “Let me see you,” she softly requested.
Brian could see her nipples right through the material, re-establishing the state that he was in once before. So, once he let go of himself, Susan could see Brian hard-on grow.
Susan stepped out of her skirt, and sat on the edge of her bed. Leaning over, she patted the end of the bed opposite herself. “Come here.” She watched Brian walk over to her bed before climbing onto the end, and sit cross-legged on the bedspread.
Sliding the silk blouse off of her shoulders, Susan revealed to Brian her full, creamy white breasts with dark bro