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Introduction:

Motivation is the key to learning a foreign language, and I found mine
The Right String of Pearls Can Win More than a Girl’s Heart

Language lessons
She is not tall, but beautifully sculpted – not voluptuous, but appears to have wonderfully sized and shaped breasts. She has been my tutor for about 6 weeks, we meet each Tuesday evenings at the local library, where she teaches me Italian. I would guess her age to be about 30, beautiful white skin, very clear (she is paranoid about the sun on her skin). One thing I really appreciate about a naturally beautiful woman is one who does not overdo the makeup – pet peeve of mine. My tutor does a great job of light, imperceptible use of makeup, lovely white plastic nails glued to fingers and toes (always wears open sandals), but it is how she dresses to accentuate her body that I really enjoy.

Her husband travels most of the time, being in town less that half the days of the month, and she often says she misses him. It isn’t anything she does or really says, but it is how she dresses that turns me on, plus her up-beat personality and what a smile! She seems to virtually glow.

It is a definite, but mild accent when she speaks English – completely intelligible, with a musical lilt that adds charm to every word she utters.

I am content to simply lust for that great body, and beautiful mouth. At age 60 I have no illusions that I could attract such a beauty and content myself to live with her in my imagination. (Difficult to understand a husband that would take a job that keeps him away from her that much.)

You can imagine my motivation to not miss a single session! My Italian is painfully slow, but surprisingly, lusting after her is not really the reason, it actually motivates me even more to concentrate on every word and thought. Surprising.

Anyway, last week after an hour of lesson, I was very tired, and we were casually speaking in English about a few things, when she became a little serious and the conversation drifted to some personal problems that I don’t feel comfortable telling here – confidentiality is an important ethical issue for me. Suffice it to say, it felt rather intimate, emphasis on the word “felt”. It was nothing said, just the way we talked so openly about some things.

In the days afterwards, while I empathized with her, it thrilled me in some way that we had shared those moments of closeness, and I was titillated by it.

So, today is a week later and we are back in class, me feeling like a little child stumbling through the few thoughts I can manage to utter. I am already conversant in the Chinese language, and learning a third language is usually easier than learning a second, but also there is interference. Often when I cannot think of the Italian I need, the Chinese word sneaks into my head and blocks the Italian. That struggle is compounded by the fact that she has dressed casually as usual, but there is something different. I soon realize what is distracting me most is the loosely draped blouse, scooped low and drooping a little open to reveal excellent cleavage hinting at breasts that most women would pay money to have.

She says she doesn’t exercise, but her skin appears to have a natural tightness suggesting tactile pleasure. So today, I feel an alertness throughout my body and I really want her. As always , we sit at the corner of a table, her at the end, and me next to her, sort of at right-angles. And that puts her very close together. Her short height, and my 6’1” means that even sitting down I have to look slightly down at her and she is looking up into my face as we study. Her glossy lips in a perpetual smile, and so close it is driving me crazy.

It is a major struggle to stay focused on her eyes – I have to struggle to not glance down at her breasts and get caught! That would really embarrass me. None of this struggle is helped by the fact that as she moves, her blouse slips lower, and she continually reaches for the strap and tugs it back up. I want to say to her, “Relax, let it drop down and let’s get this over with!” But of course that can’t happen.

Normally, I am aware that other men in the library (and some women) glance our way and are envious that at my age I have this beauty to myself. Today, though I am oblivious to my surroundings and totally focused on trying to get through this lesson!

When the hour mercifully ends, we go outside and sit together on a bench in front of the library under one of the thick live oaks that the Panhandle of Florida is famous for. It is cooler and more comfortable than usual, and sitting beside her where I don’t have to look directly at her helps me relax a little – emphasis on “a little”.

I’m not fully concentrating on our conversation, she is talking some about her early years, when something brings me to full alert. I’m not sure all of what she just said, but her voice riveted me to attention. Her head is down and a single tear has dropped onto her hand in her lap. She turns her face to me and said, “I really enjoy our time together.” I stammered something that was to mean “me too”, feeling stupid and unsure of myself, and excited at the same time. My 60 years melted away and I was 13 again wanting to hold a girls hand and scared to death. An awkward “Chou” and we left.

At home, when I opened my eMail, there was already a note from her – she needed to talk to me and wanted to meet at the library in the morning. I called her cell phone and suggested 10:00am out front.

I had some great dreams that night, and awoke feeling foolish that an old man could be so silly. Yet, isn’t hope wondereful!

We greet with the usual cheek to cheek air-kiss that she has taught me is part of the culture – tempting me to just grab her and pull her close. She looks great, but I sense a little wariness.

We sit and she is quiet before she turns to look up at me and says that she wants to tell me something, but is embarrassed. I assure her that she has my complete understanding whatever it is. And then she says it, “I think I am falling in love with you.” I have no idea what went through my mind at that moment, nor all that I said. Fortunately it was nothing as stupid as “I love you too”. It was more along the lines that we needed to talk more. This is too public. So, we walked down the street to a coffee shop that had booths with relative seclusion, and began a talk that changed everything.

She was obviously more than just a little nervous – I took the lead and tried as best I could to understand how I really felt about her. Feeling more confident now, she interrupted me and said simply, “I want to have sex with you.” It was more question than statement. I smiled and stared at her a few moments, nodded my head slowly, and said “Let’s do it, but I don’t want to cause you or me any trouble with our families.” She said her husband was in Paris for ten days, and we could go to her house. I suggested we be more intentional than to just hop in bed, and that I needed to think how I wanted the first time to be. More talk, and then I told her I would call within an hour.

I had an inkling of a plan that grew into this: I knew of a small cottage B&B on the beach, which a phone call confirmed was available. I called her with instructions to pack for an overnight and I would pick her up about 10:00am the next morning. That night, I told my wife that I was taking our canoe and going for an overnight camping trip, which was not unusual for me. The added advantage was that I had to spend a lot of time getting all the camping stuff, including the canoe loaded, which occupied some of my random thoughts.

After a fitful sleep, I showered a little longer than usual, and waited impatiently for the hands of the clock to move toward 9:45. When my watch chimed 10:00am, I was at the curb in front of her house – she immediately came out the door and jumped in the car, leaned over to me and kissed me on the cheek. Correction – she did not “jump” into the car, she “bounced” – obviously no bra.

It was a half-hour drive to the beach – conversation was relatively light, but a little giggly on both our parts. The cottage was perfect – originally, many years ago, it had belonged to a fisherman, and now was refitted with period furniture – canopy bed, footed tub, wardrobes (no closets) but with a very modern kitchen stocked with food and wine and bottled water – no shopping needed, thank goodness!

The back door opened into a small wood deck and courtyard, with wood privacy fence, and a gate that opened directly onto the Gulf beach. The comfort and charm of the place entranced us both. Knowing we had a lot of time together ahead of us, I kissed her, picked her up and carried her to the tall bed (looking at its height off the floor, I hoped we would not fall off!)

I stood her next the bed with her back to it, and took her face in my hands, and bent down to enjoy a long, slow kiss. When I pulled her against me and she felt my hardness against her stomach, and I had to hold her up – her legs momentarily would not support her. Then I took the bottom of her blouse, lifted it over her head as she held her arms straight up. releasing those beautiful breasts I had wanted to stare at, now running my hands from her waist up to her breasts and slowly exploring them.

Next I knelt in front of her, she placed her hands on my shoulders and smiled down at me, as I pulled the short, elastic waist banded skirt down from her hips and to the floor – she wore no underwear at all!. Still kneeling, I slowly kissed her stomach and explored her navel with my tongue. A fantasy come true – a beautiful, naked woman in front of me, while I was fully clothed. That turns me on. Suddenly she became embarrassed and reached down to unbutton my shirt, while I kissed her breast for the first time.

I became aware that she was feeling awkward with my being dressed, so we quickly took off my clothes, pulled the covers back and I lifter small body to lay her down. We enjoyed each other rather quickly. I have to tell you, that one of the lessons I learned in China is how not to climax when I want to have the love making go on and on – really amazes women, they truly “love’ it. So, she had more than one orgasm before we lay back and rested.

We lay there on our backs, just talking, and she told me that orgasm was very rare in her marriage. I turned over listening to her and gently kissed and massaged her breasts with my tongue. It wasn’t long before she was turned on and we started over, but only once this time.

Well, we had a great afternoon and long evening, mostly talking and touching each other. When we did get out of bed, we went to the bathroom, filled the large old tub and got in for a long, playful soak. Not bothering to get dressed after drying each other off, we went into the kitchen and ate nude at the small table. With her diminutive stature the edge of the table came just under her nipples, which when they touched the table edge, seemed to titillate her slightly. After eating, we stood beside each other as we washed the dishes, then I picked her light body up and kissed her hard on the mouth – then I began to suck on her breasts as she held on to me with her head falling fully back, face up to the ceiling. Needless to say we I carried her directly to the bed, and pulled her on top of me. I lifted her toward the head of the bed and we both enjoyed what my mouth did to her marvelous breasts as the hung in my face and mouth. She slid down my body to pull me into her, with her face on my chest – I could find no position were I could be inside her and kiss her at the same time, a distinct disadvantage to the height difference.

She lay on me for a long time, and we both slept with her light body not hindering my comfort at all. She woke me up after midnight, still on top of me and said “Let’s go outside to the beach!”

I took a blanket with us and we cautiously went out back and through the wooden gate that led directly on the dark sandy beach. We were both nervous about the black water and stayed at the edge only getting our feet wet. I spread the blanket and lay her down, sitting over her crotch with my hardness resting on her stomach, as I slowly explored her wonderful body with my fingers. She lay quietly with her head turned to one side and eyes closed.

At some point, I detected movement nearby – it was relatively small, not as large as a person, but clearly a round shadow moving on the sand. There was no moon, but the stars were clear and bright, providing a discernable view. My sudden stillness made her look up at me and she noticed I was staring off in the distance. A little alarmed, she asked what was wrong. I got off her, she sat up as we both looked down the beach. She saw it too, except noticed there was more than one. We looked the other way and saw another couple of shadows.

It took a little persuasion, but I convinced her to let’s check it out. With the blanket wrapped around us, and wishing we had a flashlight, we walked slowly along the sand dunes to the nearest shadow. Not to make this sound like a mystery, let me tell you we discovered that this beach was a favorite nesting site for sea turtles. The shadows were females coming onto the beach to dig a deep, relatively narrow hole, to deposit their eggs. One very single-minded turtle paid not attention to us as we crouched beside her and watched as she laboriously deposited dozens of eggs, after which the sand really flew when she covered the nest. Painfully slowly, she turned and made her way back to disappear in the low surf. We were breathless as we held each other and contemplated what we had seen.

I don’t understand it, but it turned us both on (is that perverse?). I took the blanket from her shoulders and pushed her on her back, and lay on top of her. Immediately after the first orgasm, in an almost pleading, girlish voice, she said, “I want you to cum inside me!” I had not yet had an orgasm, and thought that maybe she would take it as an insult. So being the gentleman I am, I obliged (what a sacrifice, right!!)

We returned to the cottage, bathed each other and ate a light breakfast. Sitting at the table with a coffee pot between us, we talked and talked and talked. I never tired of seeing her nipples casually caress the edge of the kitchen table. This was real, no fantasy. We talked about sex a lot, and learned a lot from each other.

I really enjoy kissing a woman on the mouth and sucking on her breasts while simultaneously inside her, but I had not find a way to do that while prone in bed. So, I got up, stood next to the bed, and I pulled her to face me. With my back to the bed, I leaned down and pulled her chest to mine, lifted her off her feet. and instructed her to wrap her legs around my waist, putting her arms around my neck and to hold on. I then sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed myself inside her, holding her on my lap. That meant she had to do all the work, pushing her hips up and down to massage me. As she warmed up to this, I leaned her back, which increased the pressure inside her, and allowed me to bend forward and enjoy those fantastic breasts. She dropped her head back letting her hair fall straight down to the floor, and moaned as her hips moved up and down and her head swayed back an forth, and I pumped all my juices into her.

Later, we lay back beside each other, and she asked me if there was any truth to some of the exotic things she had read about Asian sex. I told her there were a few things I learned – she wanted me to teach her. Of course I agreed, and we made plans for another “camping” trip together. The rest of the morning, though, was spent in bed, talking about lots of things with occasional traditional sex and a nap. By noon, we dressed for the first time and prepared to return – we laughed a lot on the way home, my last view was her almost skipping as she went to the front door and disappeared, she never turned around even to wave.

Student becomes teacher
Daily phone calls and occasional coffees together, neither of us could wait – her husband would be home in a few days, and her getaways would be more restricted. So, instead of our language class, I arranged a hotel room in town, and we met there. I had given her the room number and told her she did not need any change of clothes, just come directly to the room.

I had brought candles and music and a little wine.

She knocked on the door and entered, noticeing I was wearing a Japanese kimono (really it was a yukata, a full length, thin cotton robe – my favorite over the Chinese choices) She, wearing a mid length, red print patterned sundress, and obviously nothing else. I am surprised she was not assaulted on the way!

I greeted her in Italian, and invited her in. When I turned after closing the door, she tugged the cloth belt holding the yukata closed, and said in Italian, “My turn”. The rode was pushed off my shoulders and dropped to the floor – and she laughed as part of me immediately stood at attention. I started to lift her dress, when she took my wrists stopping me, and said in Italian, “No, my turn” (I was beginning to love language lessons more and more!) She told me to stand still, as she went to her knees and said something in Italian that I did not understand – later she told me that she had said, “I am going to do something that I have never done to any man before.”) My height made it slightly awkward, but she took me in her mouth as I stood there, gave me a greeting in a way that had not been said to me in a long time. Sex, not music is the international language!

She was not exceptionally good at using her mouth, but it was, after all HER, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself – ok, I admit it, I was really falling for her more than just sex.

I could not have an orgasm with her this way, so I eventually pulled her head away, she whimpered slightly, I then pulled her to her feet, she raised her arms straight up, and I bent down and pulled her dress over her head, tossing it on top of my yukata. I then picked her up and she wrapped her arms and legs around me – as I stood there, I slowly let her slide down until I was in and could slid up – up into her, that is. I bent my knees (this is great exercise, I recommend it!!) and supported her has she pumped slowly up and down.

I carried her over and laid her on the sheet, the covers already having been pulled back before she arrived. I then asked her if she was really wanting to experiment, and she simply said with a smile, “Si”.

I asked if she had ever had anal sex, and with a look of mild apprehension in her eyes,, she said “No”. I assured her that neither had I and frankly I was not really interested – that it sounded dangerous to me, and she relaxed. I explained that there were other ways of being stimulated there, however, and asked her to completely trust me – she agreed.

I needed her to have had an enema before we proceeded, but was anxious that if it was suggested before she came over, that it might frighten her. So, I told her now that she needed one, and that she had a choice of doing it herself, or I could do it for her. I explained that I wanted to do it myself if she would let me – but it was her choice. I was glad when after thinking a moment, she gave me permission to do it. I am convinced that this act early in a relationship creates an intimacy that is unsurpassed.

We went in the bathroom and I cleansed her thoroughly with the solution I had brought.
Carrying a bath towel , I led her back toward the bed. The pillows were arranged up against the headboard, the towel spread on the bed for her to sit on, I placed her in an upright sitting position against the pillows, with her legs bent exposing her to me.

Reaching over to the floor, I opened a small bag I had brought, took out what looks like a graduated pearl necklace, except this was made of hypoallergenic plastic. It is important to understand the size of each “pearl”.

One end starts with the largest “pearl” on the string, about the size of a quarter. Each succeeding pearl is graduated slightly smaller, and each absolutely smooth. At the other end, the last pearl is probably smaller than a dime. From that smallest pearl, the string continues about 8 inches further to a fairly large ball, about twice the size of a quarter. Each object is fastened securely in place and does not move on the string, separated by about two inches – except for the final large ball which has the 8” length between it and the smallest pearl. I also retrieved the lubricant I had brought. Understandably her eyes registered, not fear, but nervousness. Handing her the largest pearl end to hold, I began to apply lubricant to every part, including the string itself, but not to the large ball on my end.

Then I explained that for this first time, I wanted her to do this herself – that she should carefully insert the largest pearl in her ass, and then stuff each succeeding pearl until she was holding inside her all but the large ball, which was to stay on the outside. Tentatively, she inserted the first, large pearl in, eventually having inserted all of them until only the ball remained outside her body.

Hearing that it felt “strange”, but that she was comfortable, I slid back toward the foot of the bed, grabbed her ankles and gently pulled her prone on the bed until her head was off the pillows – then I stretched over her. Knowing that she was already wet and ready I easily slid inside her and gently pumped slowly, as she relaxed and enjoyed having both openings filled.

I raised off of her, and made sure the pearls were still inside, and tugged her to a standing position beside the bed. She looked down and laughed, saying that I might have two balls to her one, but hers was bigger!

Carefully I bent down and pulling her against my chest, lifted her until she once again was clinging to me with her arms around my neck, and her legs securely around my waist. She held her sphincter tight, and nothing fell out. I sat back on the edge of the bed, with my feet on the floor, then eased her down on to me and again slid into that warm wet part of her that was beginning to feel like home to me.
With gentle movements we explored each other for a while, until I bent sideways and reached under us taking the dangling ball, and tugged slightly so the first small pearl came to the edge. She gasped and bit my neck as I slowly slid the first, small pearl out – I checked and with heavy breathing she assured me she was ok. One-by-one I teased her with removing the balls, slowly sometimes, more rapidly with a smooth motion others. Each ball was larger than the one before so the sensation built within her until she was absolutely wild as she gyrated on my lap and bit and scrapped my skin with her nails.

When the last ball came out, both of us were exhausted and fell back on the bed – I rolled over to the edge of the bed and dropped the string of pearls into the plastic bag in the garbage can. As I held her against me, she slept.

Later, I eased off the bed, she only stirred slightly and continued sleeping. I took my equipment into the bathroom and cleaned it for its next use, for that was only her introduction.

Dinner
I was in the bathroom when she called to me and said in Italian that she was hungry. I walked into the room and saw her surprise that I was completely dressed – the look on her face said that she thought I was leaving. I told her to go into the bathroom and get cleaned up and then come back to the bed. When she returned, I had the pillows and towel arranged as before, and instructed her to insert the pearls exactly as before – puzzled she did, and this time enjoyed the process better than the first time. While she was inserting them, with the palm of my hand, I was firmly massaged the exterior of her vagina. With both the pearls and the massage, she was warming nicely.

When she had all but the large ball inserted, I then lubricated it and said, “Guess where this goes?” She immediately caught on began to insert it into her vagina, and looked up at me expectantly. All that was visible was the string that connected the big ball in her vagina and the pearls in her anus.

I got off the bed, took her hands and eased her to a sitting position on the bed – checked the string, and she appeared intact. I pulled her to a standing position, again enjoying the eroticism of my being fully clothed with this luscious nude young woman in front of me. Again checking the pearls, I asked her how it felt – strange and exciting was the way she described it. I had her take a few steps, and was confident she could hold them in.

Next, I picked up her dress and told her to put it on. Puzzled, she slid the sun dress over head and down across her body – now I was disappointed, having to cover that wonderful body I was enjoying so much. Even the way it clung and repeated the mold of her body was not as titillating as it had been – only the real thing is best.

She slipped her feet into her sandals, I bent down and fastened them for her – did not want her bending over expelling our toys.

In a formal manner I took her arm in mine, and said, “Let’s go downstairs to dinner.” She tilted her head back and laughed, “You’re joking!” Smiling, I assured her I was serious, and guided her to the door. We walked slowly, as I inquired how she was doing – we went out into the hallway toward the elevator. Her steps were halting and she was extremely self conscious, but we entered the elevator and started down. She clutched my arm and giggled.

Entering the dining room, I selected a rather public table. She walked with a gait that reminded me of a woman wearing high heels for the first time. Each time I inquired, she stated she was fine. We sat across from each other

With her body in that sundress, she normally attracts attention from both men and women, but the giddy way she was acting must have brought glances from all over the room. I made a point of not looking around, but always at her. We played at making innuendo at the toys and the way they felt, which made her even more giggly.

Neither one of us ate much of our dinner, the internal juices were too present in our bodies. When we talked about dessert, we both knew it was not the menu, but what awaited us upstairs. A memorable dinner, to say the least.

We managed to get her upstairs, even though in the elevator I had to support her a little – the other passenger must surely have thought this old man had gotten a young woman drunk and now was going to take advantage of her. Hmmmm – they would have been partly right.

When we were appropriately nude and in bed again, I placed her on her back, sat kneeling in front of her with her legs straight up and over my shoulders, then slowly and playfully pulled on the string, tugging only the pearls, leaving the ball. By the time the last pearl was removed and I was tugging on the ball in her vagina, she was thrashing on the bed.

We took a shower, enjoying bathing each other, then she said it was my turn. With her new knowledge, she expertly placed the apparatus in me and joked that now I had three balls and she had none. Of course, you can imagine the rest of this part of the story.

And so it continues
By the time we left the hotel we were exhausted. You can guess, there continued to be occasional such lessons in Italian – and I did become conversant in the language, some of which I learned in our special lessons that I cannot use except to her. She became curious about what else I had learned in China, and I taught her all I know. So, teaching and learning, it was a mutual give and take – the perfect combination.
1 comments

READERReport

2006-07-22 12:13:06
Ummmm, if you're taking Italian classes, you must have missed the part where they told you that "ciao" isn't spelled "chou".

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