Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Name: Wistful
Title: A Private Education
Part: Part 4
Summary: The pace quickens.  Adrian finds that his bath is far hotter
than he expected.
Keywords: Fb, voy, pedo, mast, oral



   The story below will make more sense if you read the earlier parts
first.

   I would really appreciate your feedback, good or bad, as well as
suggestions you have for improvements, so that I can decide whether it is
worth continuing.  Email me at adrianloop@hotmail.co.uk and I will get back
to you.

   The story below is a work of fiction, and has no basis in fact.



   A Private Education - Part 3

   Perhaps it was the combination of the warm water and the drink that
Nikki had given him, but Adrian felt strangely calm.  Even when she said
that she was getting in the bath with him, he found himself smiling,
allowing the delicious implications to occur to him in slow motion.  It
meant she would have to take her clothes off, that he would see her naked.

   "Are you listening to me, Adrian?"

   Her voice pulled him out of the images in his mind and back into the
present.  He looked back and saw that she had undone the buttons of her
blouse; only the weight of the material and gravity prevented him from
seeing her breasts.  Tits, he corrected himself.

   "I want you to face the front and close your eyes while I get undressed.
And no peeping like yesterday!" She looked at him, her expression serious.

   "Do you promise?"

   He fought the urge to giggle, forcing his face to look equally serious
and his voice to sound sincere, trying to subdue the waves of excitement
crashing within him.  His cock throbbed under the water.

   "I promise, Nikki.  I won't look."

   "Good boy."

   She smiled at him and her hands disappeared behind her, reaching for
something at the back of her waist.  As she did so, the edges of her blouse
crept open and he could see the inner sides of her breasts, like two pink
half moons.  He stared at them, willing the material to open wider, when he
realised that she was standing still, looking at him, as if waiting.  She
raised her eyebrows and he suddenly remembered his promise.  He shut his
eyes, exaggerating the tightness of his eyelids, and turned to face the
front.

   He listened, trying to make his ears a substitute for his eyes.  He
heard a zip being undone and a rustle of material.  There was a squeak as
her foot moved on the tiled floor, and more rustling.  He had a picture of
her blouse falling to the floor.  He was suddenly reminded of the
excitement of Christmases, of Birthdays, that delicious moment of
anticipation as he took off the wrapping paper to see what was inside.

   Then he heard her footsteps, her bare feet approaching the bath.  He
tightened his eyelids shut, just in case they opened of their own accord
and broke his promise.

   "You'll have to scoot down a little."

   Her voice was near, very near.  He held his breath.

   He moved down the bath slightly and her foot entered the water behind
him.  He felt the heat of her body and there was that intoxicating scent
that he had smelt earlier.  Except that now he realised what it was. 
Another splash, and he knew that she was standing directly behind him.  As
she sat down, the water rose in small waves around him.  He felt her legs
slide down the outside of his, one on either side, the inside of them
pressing against him, sandwiching him between them.  At the same time, her
arms wrapped around him and she pulled him back against the cushions of her
breasts.  He felt her nipples hard against his shoulder blades, felt the
top of his buttocks nestle at the very apex of her thighs.  There was a
sensation of wiriness rubbing against him.  His prick lurched.  He thought
he would explode.

   "You are a very good boy," she whispered in his ear.  "You can open your
eyes now, Adrian, but you must not look round."

   He released his eyelids slowly and looked down.  He could see her legs
stretching either side of his, and noticed that her toe-nails were painted
red.  He followed her legs up to her thighs, admiring the shape of them; it
was as if he was with a film star.  He watched as her hands stroke across
his chest, her fingers rubbing over his nipples while she rocked his body
gently from side to side, and the hard points of her own nipples rubbed
across the skin of his shoulder blades.

   "Do you feel comfortable?"

   He resisted a sudden urge to laugh and his voice squeaked, "Yes."

   "And does your body feel warm?"

   "Yes."

   "And do you feel relaxed?"

   "Oh, yesss!" he said, elongating the word to show how relaxed he was.

   She ran her flattened palms in circles over his chest and stomach, as if
seeking to confirm his answer.  With each circle, her hands got lower,
until they brushed against the tip of his hard little cock.  He pushed his
hips forward, straining to make himself open for her touch, but teasingly,
she always avoided more direct contact.

   "Now we have lots to do tonight, Adrian.  First of all, I am going to
give you a good wash so that you are lovely and clean.  Then we need to
talk about some very naughty things.  And finally..." She paused for what
seemed like an age.  "What was the other thing we were going to do?  Can
you remember?"

   Her hand stopped its rotation, directly over his cock, and pressed it
hard against him.  Waves of delicious pleasure swept over his groin.

   "You were going to make me...  cum." He enjoyed saying it, and laughed.
"You were going to rub my cock."

   "Of course!" she giggled, "How silly of me.  How could I have forgotten
that!"

   The pressure of her hand thrilled him and he felt his muscles tensing,
felt the sensation growing.  Sensing it, she moved her hand away.

   "Right, let's get you clean." Her hands left him for a moment and then
reappeared in front of him, holding a bar of soap.  She dipped it in the
water and then rubbed it between her hands, building up a thick lather
before.  Gently she started to rub the bubbles onto his chest and arms,
working over his skin in small silky circles.  She pushed him forward and
rubbed more of the lather onto his shoulders and then down over his back,
massaging his muscles and sending delicious sensations through him.

   "Now we have a problem Adrian.  I can't wash those bits of you under the
water.  You will have to stand up."

   He started to move and she added, "And no peeking."

   He stood up, water cascading from him, and waited, looking down with
pride at his upright cock.  She lathered her hands again and started
rubbing his lower back, and then moved down to the back of his legs,
spreading the soap slowly upwards over his knees and around his thighs
until she reached his bottom.  She squeezed his buttocks with her soapy
hands and rubbed them in small circles.  Every now and then, her fingers
slipped between them and rubbed slowly over his anus, each time more
slowly, more firmly.  The feeling amazed him, enthral led him; it seemed so
dirty, so forbidden, but so exciting.

   Then her fingers stopped, one of them pressing firmly on his small
rosebud.  He knew he should be alarmed, embarrassed, but somehow he
couldn't be; it felt so good, sending new, extraordinary sensations through
him.  Her finger, slippery with soap, pressed harder, and he felt the tip
of it slip into him.  He clenched instinctively.  Surely it must have been
an accident; she can't have meant to do that.

   Her voice whispered up to him.  "Just relax, my little one.  Enjoy the
feeling."

   She pushed her finger against him, and slowly he started to relax.  She
pushed deeper.

   "Doesn't that feel nice?  Do you like the feeling of my finger in your
tight little arsehole?"

   Even though part of his brain registered the shock of her words, the
rest of him was so totally absorbed that he couldn't answer.  He loved the
sensation of fullness, the tingles on the ring of muscle around her finger.
He began to relax even more and her finger slipped further in.

   Slowly she began to move it in and out and he squatted slightly,
obscenely, to allow her access.  Spasms of unimagined pleasure flooded into
him and his legs wobbled, causing him to reach out for support.  He heard
himself moaning.

   "I know, my little one, I know." Her voice was a breathless whisper.

   Eventually he felt her finger begin to pull out, leaving him empty.

   "Don't stop, Nikki," he said, "it feels so good."

   "It's alright," she said comfortingly, spooning water over him,
caressing his bum gently.  "Now I want you to bend forward so that I can
check that you are clean, but I need you to help me.  Will you help me,
Adrian?"

   He knew now that he was a changed person.  The Adrian of earlier would
have been hesitant, uncertain, but now all of that had gone.  He would do
anything now, anything she wanted.

   "Yes," he said, quietly.

   "When you have bent over, I want you to pull the cheeks of your bottom
apart.  Is that OK?"

   "Yes," he said, immediately.  He bent over and pulled his buttocks
apart. The crude picture that he must have presented to her excited him. 
Her hands arrived on his hips and he heard the water splash as she sat up.
The warmth of her breath played over him.

   And then he felt her tongue.  Gentle at first, licking around his anus,
teasing it softly.  And then more forceful, pushing against him, demanding
admission like her finger had.  He didn't need to be asked again, but
relaxed and allowed her.

   It felt even better, wet, soft, sometimes penetrating as she made her
tongue into a hard rod.  He wasn't sure how long it lasted, he was only
aware of her face pressed against his bottom, the warmth of her panting
breath, and the amazing sensation of her wet, gentle obscene tongue pushing
in and out of him.  It felt so wonderfully dirty.

   Eventually, he felt her withdraw and when he started to straighten up,
he realised that his back muscles were aching from the tension of holding
himself in place.

   "Now that I've checked your bottom, I need to wash your front." The tone
of her voice suggested she was smiling.  "And you know what that means,
don't you?"

   Oh Yes!  he thought to himself, suddenly remembering the throbbing ache
in his groin.  It meant she was going to make him cum.  So what she said
next surprised him.

   "It means you will have to turn round."

   Turn round?  But that would mean that he would see her, that she would
be sitting in front of him, that he could look at her!  His stomach lurched
and an almost irresistible urge to shout, to express the joy he felt, ran
through him.  He giggled and wondered why he hadn't looked earlier, as he
stood there.  It would have been easy, just peering round his legs when he
was bent over.  Except of course, he had been lost in the wonder of what
she had been doing.

   "But you told me not to peek," he said, playfully.  "If I turn round, I
will be able to see you."

   She laughed.  "Well, I know what a naughty little boy you can be, so I
suppose that I will just have to let you look."

   He turned slowly, carefully, to face her, unfocusing his eyes, not
through any anxiety, but so that only when he was facing her properly would
he focus them and drink in the sight that awaited him.

   She was lying back in the water, smiling at him, opening herself to him.
Her arms hung at her sides.  The water lapped around her breasts and her
nipples pushed up erect above the surface.  His eyes moved slowly down her
body, over her flat stomach towards the holy grail.  Her legs were open and
her sex shimmered beneath the water.  He could see a thin, neat strip of
hair running down to her folds like a pointer.  He could see the crinkled
curving lines like a slit between her legs, and in the centre, glowing red,
puffy ridges of flesh that seemed to swell outwards from the rest.  Here,
the water seemed to shimmer and was laced with strange transparent lines,
as if it was being heated.  Below the slit, the skin flattened and ran into
a valley between her buttocks and there, winking in the moving water, he
could see a small circle of darkened flesh.

   He brought his eyes slowly back up to her face and returned her smile.
In his new found confidence he saw no reluctance in her eyes but knew that
she was showing herself to him, that she wanted him to look, and his smile
told her she knew.

   He looked again at her breasts, at the size and firmness of her nipples,
and responding to his gaze, she brought her hand up and rolled her left
nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

   "Say naughty things to me, Adrian.  Dirty things.  Tell me what you can
see." She sounded languid, far away, as if lost in a world of her own.

   "I can see your tits," he whispered.  "I can see you squeezing your
nipple." And then, in a moment of inspiration and daring, "I want to touch
them."

   She looked up at him, as if surprised.

   "Oh yes," she whispered.  "I want you to touch them." She reached out
for his hand and placed it on her breast.  He rubbed his hand around it and
over it, feeling its size and firmness.  Then, emboldened, he brought up
his other hand and repeated the movement on her other breast.  He heard her
moan, an animal sound from deep in her throat.

   "Squeeze them, baby," she breathed, "squeeze them hard.  Don't be
frightened."

   He gripped them, squeezing with his fingers, and the pliant flesh moved
and undulated in his hands.  He gripped harder, watching his fingers
pushing into them, the pressure turning her skin white.

   "Pinch my nipples," she whispered, an urgency in her voice.

   He moved his hands and captured each nipple between thumb and
forefinger, pinching carefully.  Breath rasped and he squeezed harder,
rolling them as he did so, fascinated by the effect it had.

   "Oh fuck," she gasped, and the word thrilled him.  He twisted them
backwards and forwards and he saw her back begin to arch as she seemed to
press them into his hands.  And then her hands were gripping his arms,
stopping his movement, pulling his hands away from her.

   "Not yet, not yet," she whispered, her breathing ragged, and she relaxed
back down into the water.  He didn't understand what she meant, and
wondered momentarily if he had hurt her, if he had squeezed too hard, but
then he saw that she was grinning at him.  She let go of his hands and
lowered her arms back down into the water.

   "Adrian," she laughed, "you are such a naughty boy!.  You don't know
what that does to me."

   And she was right; he didn't understand her response.  He had touched
his own nipples, even squeezed them, but it had felt uncomfortable and not
in the least bit enjoyable.  But whatever it was, he knew that she had
enjoyed it.  He felt a strange pride: here he was, his little cock standing
almost painfully hard, in front of a beautiful, naked woman, and he had
done something which she obviously really liked.  He felt deliriously
happy.

   "And what else do you see?", she said silkily, as if resuming an
interrupted conversation.

   His eyes dropped down to the top of her thighs.  He knew what she meant,
what she wanted him to say, but his boldness deserted him and left him
tongue-tied.  Tits were one thing; not normally on show, but obvious,
jutting out into the world.  but down there...  That was private, secret.
And then, how could he say it?  There was only one word he knew but that
was forbidden.  He had been beaten once for saying it when he didn't even
understand its meaning, and now it was locked away inside.

   Sensing his dilemma, she moved her hand to the top of her leg and onto
the inside of her thigh, and then trailed it slowly upwards over the slit,
allowing her fingers to brush gently through the folds of skin.  As they
reached the top, just below the arrow of hair, they lingered for a moment
and she seemed to catch her breath.

   "Are you looking here?" Her words seemed to be all breath, and his eyes
were glued to her private place.

   "Yes," he whispered.  His legs began to tremble.

   "Are you looking at my cunt?"

   He gasped.

   "Tell me, Adrian.  Tell me what you are looking at." Her fingers started
to move in small slow circles.

   His mouth was dry.  He tried to speak, but somehow he had forgotten how.

   "Tell me," she said again, more insistently.

   "Your...  cunt," he whispered.

   "Say it louder." She seemed to be pleading.

   He cleared his throat and took a breath.  "Your cunt."

   Her fingers stopped and seemed to press against a small swelling at the
top.  Her body tensed and she moaned softly.

   "Do you like my cunt?"

   "Oh yes," he sighed.  "It's so beautiful.  It's everything...  It's..."
An unutterable joy filled him that he couldn't express, and tears pricked
at his eyes.

   Her fingers moved again, faster, harder and her body rose as if to press
against them.  She moaned again, this time so loudly that he looked at her
face and saw that her eyes were squeezed shut.  Looking back down, her
fingers had stopped moving, but just seemed to press down.  The sinews in
her thighs were stretched tight, and her hips seemed to jolt again and
again.  At the same time, the water between her thighs seemed to grow
cloudy, opaque, and those strange transparent little lines seemed to
multiply and twist around her fingers.

   He stared, knowing with a wisdom borne of instinct that he had just
watched her cum.  Her eyes remained closed, and her body tense, and then
she gently began to relax, breathing out a long slow sigh of air until she
settled back into the water and lay still.  He stood there looking down on
her and felt slightly lost.  He wondered if he should say something, do
something, but somehow knew that that would be intruding into the place
that she had gone to.  So he stood, and waited.

   After a few moments, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at him.  This
time she wasn't laughing, or teasing.

   "Thank you," she said softly.

   He was confused.  Why was she thanking him - it was he who should be
thanking her!  He didn't know what to say, so said nothing.  Instead, he
continued to stand and feel awkward.  And perhaps because of that
awkwardness, he became aware of a dull painful ache in his balls and the
base of his cock, and higher up in his pelvis.  He shifted his feet to try
and relieve it, sending little waves across the bath.

   "Are you hurting?" she asked, revealing once again that magical ability
she had to read his mind.

   He smiled sheepishly.  "Yes," he said and giggled with embarrassment.

   "Where?"

   "In my balls, and here," he touched the base of his cock, "and here," he
pointed to his pelvis.

   "I think I can help you," she said, sitting up.  "Mmm, your little balls
look very swollen, and your prick has been hard for a very long time.  That
must feel very uncomfortable." She leaned slowly forward and kissed him
gently on all the places he had mentioned.  Her lips felt like feathers
brushing over him.

   "Is that better?" she asked, a twinkle of mischief returning to her
eyes.

   He paused.  "No, not really."

   "Mmmm..." She looked serious for a moment.  " I think that you need to
cum, little man."

   He smiled at her name for him and said, "Oh yes, please Nikki."

   "How would you like to cum?" she asked seductively.

   He didn't understand what she meant.  Surely she knows how he comes! 
Last night she had made him cum, cum for the first time properly in his
young life, so why was she now asking him 'How'?  She must be teasing him.
And then the penny dropped and he laughed at his confusion.  He paused to
consider the possibilities, and realised that the one that sprang into his
mind was, despite everything that had happened, too much to ask.

   "In your mouth," he said eventually, "like last night."

   For a moment her eyebrows registered surprise, but then her smile
returned.

   "Do you know what 'fuck' means, Adrian?"

   He was caught completely off guard, and all he could do was stare at
her. She seemed to be waiting for an answer and a sense of panic filled
him. He thought he knew what it meant, had bragged amongst his friends that
he knew precisely what it meant, but now...  He started to blush.

   "Well...  sort of."

   "Then tell me." He noticed that her hand was between her legs again.

   "It's when a man and a woman," he searched for the words, "have sex." He
squirmed at the inadequacy of what he had said.

   She brought her hand out of the water and stroked the side of his face.
Her fingers felt strangely smooth, almost oily on his skin.

   "Can I tell you another secret?" she whispered.  "I like saying rude
things, and I like it when you say rude things to me, naughty things, dirty
things.  It makes me excited." She looked up at him.  "It makes me want to
touch my cunt." As if to make the point, her hand returned between her
legs.

   "Do you like it when I do that?  When I touch my cunt?"

   All he could do was nod.

   "Then be brave, be naughty for me.  Tell me what happens when a man and
woman," she paused, "fuck."

   He was silent for a second, trying to plan his words, trying to make
sense of all those giggling theories that he had shared with his friends.

   "It's when a man's cock gets hard, and he lies down between a lady's
legs, and pushes it into her..., into...  into her cunt.  Then he shoots
stuff into her, and a year later, she has a baby." He finished with a rush
and stood waiting for her laughter.

   For a moment her smile grew broader, but she didn't laugh.  And her hand
still rested between her thighs.

   "Well done, Adrian," she said, "that was very brave of you."

   Relief and an odd sense of pride swept over him.

   "But, fuck can mean other things too.  For example," she continued, her
eyes twinkling, "if a man, a brave little man with a lovely hard little
prick, were to cum in a lady's mouth, then you could say he had fucked her
mouth."

   He noticed that her fingers had started moving again, stroking slowly up
and down.

   "Or, if a beautiful lady were to slip her finger into the same young
man's delicious little arsehole, and push it in and out of his tight little
bum, that could be called fucking too."

   She sounded like velvet and he was mesmerized.  Slowly his understanding
grew.

   "Or," she elongated the word playfully, "what if it wasn't her finger,
but her tongue?" She paused.  "It would mean that that very naughty lady
was fucking him with her tongue." Another pause.  "So you see, Adrian,
there are lots and lots of delicious ways that you can fuck, and be
fucked."

   She giggled and he giggled in response, like people exchanging secrets.
He waited for what she would say next.

   "Or, perhaps there is something else a certain young man might like to
try.  Something he might also enjoy.  Perhaps, if her legs were open, and
he was kneeling between them, he could slide two of his fingers into her
cunt." Her voice took on a huskier tone.  "Do you think he would like that,
my little one?  Do you think he would like find out what it would be like
to fuck her cunt with his fingers?"

   She looked down, and his eyes followed her gaze.  Her fingers slid
slowly over the swollen ridges and then stopped.  Two of them seemed to
press against her and then the flesh parted, like lips, and they slid
inside them, pushing deep, only to withdraw and then push in again.  The
water clouded around her hand.

   "Kneel down, my little love," she whispered.

   Like an automaton he did so, coming to rest on his knees between her
outstretched thighs.  Sitting up, she brought he mouth close to his, and
when she spoke, it was as if she was pouring honey in his ear.

   "Would you like to do that?  Would you like to know just how good that
feels?  To fuck my cunt with your fingers?"

   Trance-like, he nodded.

   "Then ask me," she purred, "tell me what you want to do."

   His voice trembled as he took in what she was offering to him.

   "I want..." He swallowed and started again.  "I want...  to touch... 
your cunt.  I want to...  fuck you with my fingers.  Let me.  Please."

   He heard her breath out slowly.  She kissed his cheek lightly and
settled back in the water.  She was smiling again, but this smile seemed
different, more from within herself; a smile of satisfaction.

   She took his hand and held it so that hers was on top, guiding him.  She
placed it on her breast and scraped his palm over her nipple, pressing its
firmness against him.  She pushed it slowly downwards over her stomach,
over the small triangle of hair, and then round onto her crotch.  She ran
his fingers over and between the folds of flesh, soft and giving to his
touch.  She pushed down towards her bottom and then drew it slowly back up
until he touched a small hard swelling.  As he made contact with it, her
grip tightened and she gasped.

   She let his hand rest there for a moment and then pushed back down until
he rested on the swollen red centre.  She adjusted her first two fingers
directly over his and then pushed gently inwards against the lips.  He
watched them open under the pressure and felt them slide into her, into a
rich, slippery, warmth.  He heard her suck in her breath, and then moan as
she pushed deeper.  And then her hand left him, and he was alone.

   "Fuck me," she said gently, "make me cum."

   He began to move his fingers in and then slowly out, copying what he had
seen her do, and she moaned again, longer and louder.  He pushed in and out
again, and again, trying each time to impale his fingers deeper, lost in
the exquisite, soft, oily feel of her, measuring her response to each
thrust and withdrawal.  At moments, her cunt seemed to grip him, and then
release, and each time she moaned and her body tensed.  Sensing a growing
tension in her, he began to move his fingers faster, splaying them
slightly, using the weight of his hand to push harder into her.

   And then suddenly, he felt her arm pulling his hips towards her and saw
her head bend down towards his cock.  He felt her mouth envelop him, this
time not gently, but with an urgency that he recognised within himself. 
Her mouth gripped, her lips tight around his shaft, and her head pumped
quickly back and forth, matching the speed of his fingers.  Her mouth was
wet, and her tongue swirled around his cockhead.

   He knew he would not last long, not after everything that had happened,
but he desperately wanted to make her cum and that he must concentrate,
hold out against the delicious persuasion of her mouth.  He pumped his hand
harder and she moaned around him, sending wonderful vibrations through his
cock and balls.  He felt her responding, pushing against him, felt her
tightening himself around his fingers.

   And then it was too late.  Her finger pushed hard against his arsehole
and slipped inside him, and his hips instinctively began to thrust forward.
He thought of what she said, about fucking her mouth and he gave in to his
lust, let his body take over.  His balls tightened and waves of pleasure
began to sweep up his cock.  Except this time it was different.  He felt
something rising from the base, felt an exquisite sensation of contractions
at its core that seemed to be driven by some invisible pump, up and up,
wave after wave, out into her mouth.  His whole body stiffened, his muscles
clenched and a pleasure exploded inside him, so strong that it was almost
too much to bare.  He was vaguely aware of her body pressing against his
legs, of his arm trapped between them, of her cunt spasming around his
fingers, and then he collapsed against her, gasping for air.

   He didn't know how long they stayed like that, pressed together.  As he
came back to reality, he felt a pain in his hand and withdrew his fingers,
allowing them to hang limply between her legs.  Her head was pressed
against his belly and her arms wrapped around him, pulling him against her.
Eventually, her grip loosened and she lay slowly back into the water,
drawing him with her until his cheek rested on her breasts.  The warmth of
the water and the soothing beat of her heart made him feel suddenly
desperately tired, and he closed his eyes.

   -----------------------------------------------

   "Wake up, Sleepy head."

   She was running her fingers through his hair, his head still resting on
her breasts.  Although the dull ache still throbbed in his groin, he felt a
contentment he had never felt before.  He looked up at her and saw her
smiling down at him.

   "We need to get out of the bath," she said gently.  "The water is
getting cold, and you have to get back to your bed."

   "Do I have to?" he said, not entirely seriously.  " I want to stay with
you.  I want to..." Images of the last hour flickered through his mind.

   "I know, I know.  But it is late, and you have school tomorrow."

   "You sound like my mum," he said, laughing, and she laughed too.

   A question arose in him, a doubt that had vaguely troubled him as he
fell asleep.

   "Nikki, can I ask you something?

   "Of course you can.  You can ask me anything." She stroked his hair, as
if comforting him.

   "When we...  just now, when we..." His confidence to say the word had
left him now.  "Did you cum?"

   There was a pause, and he looked up at her again, trying to read her
expression.

   "Oh yes, my little one.  I came.  You were so very clever with your
fingers.  You made me cum so very hard." She spoke the words almost with
sigh, that far away look in her eyes again.  He knew she was remembering,
and her compliment made him feel proud.  He suddenly wanted to return it.

   "You made me cum so very hard too," he said copying her words.

   She leaned down and kissed his forehead softly.

   "You did something very special tonight," she whispered.

   He pulled himself upright so that he could see her more clearly, curious
to know what she meant.

   "What did I do?"

   She smiled.  "When you came, you really came, in my mouth."

   He was confused.  Of course he knew he had cum in her mouth, just as he
had the night before.  It was obvious.  That was what she wanted him to do.
So why did she say it like that?

   "You know when you told me about fucking?" she asked, anticipating his
question.  " You said the man lay on top of the woman and pushed his cock
into her cunt.  Can you remember what you said next?"

   He thought back through all the excitement.  "He pumps stuff into her
and she has a baby?" he said at last, his voice rising with uncertainty.

   "That's right.  Well when you came, that's what you did.  You pumped
stuff into my mouth."

   He was suddenly frightened.  What had he done?  In those moments when he
had lost control of himself, what terrible thing had he done?  In her
mouth? Dread filled him at the only idea that entered his mind.

   "You mean..." He hesitated and looked away from her, shame rising in his
cheeks.  "You mean I peed?"

   She laughed, loudly, and from deep within her, and it took a moment for
her to recover her breath.

   "No, you darling boy, you didn't pee, although that would have been
fun." She chuckled again and he looked back at her, once more confused. 
"When you came, your lovely little prick pumped 'stuff' into my mouth. 
It's called spunk, and it was lovely.  That is what made me cum so hard. 
It was all because of you."

   He gasped with sudden understanding.  He knew that word.  Older boys
used it, bragging about what happened when they wanked.  And now, he had
done it too!

   "And you know what that means, don't you?" she asked, interrupting his
excitement.

   "What?"

   "It means you're becoming a man, Adrian.  My little man"

   He wanted to shout.  He wanted to declare it from the rooftops.  He had
cum in her mouth and he was becoming a man, she had said so!  This
wonderful, beautiful woman who had made him cum, made him pump spunk, had
said so.  Without thinking, he threw himself on her, wrapping his arms
around her neck, squeezing himself against her.  She held him, running her
hand gently up and down his back, waiting for his excitement to die down.

   Eventually he pulled himself away and looked at her through his wide
smile.

   "Nikki," he said, his voice bursting with gratitude, "thank you."

   -----------------------------

   They were back in her office.  They had got out of the bath and dried
each other off with thick towels.  She had made no effort to hide her
nakedness from him, and had teased him that he took much too much time to
dry certain parts of her body.  Now he was back in his pyjamas and dressing
gown, waiting as she unlocked the door.

   "Will you come and get me again tomorrow night," he asked, already
starting to contemplate what excitements might lay ahead.

   "Well, "she said slowly, teasingly, "I'm not really sure you need to,
Adrian.  I think that your treatment has been successful, don't you?"

   "Well I'm not sure," he giggled.  "I don't know if I will be able to
make spunk again." He paused, significantly.  "Not on my own."

   She laughed at him.  "Well, I suppose one more treatment wouldn't hurt
you, just to be on the safe side.  I'll come and get you, same time as
tonight."

   She leaned down and kissed him, pressing her lips against his for just a
second.

   She reached for the door handle, but then stopped and looked at him.

   "Now that you are becoming a man, you can do what men do." She paused.
"Now back to bed with you, and don't you dare get caught in the corridor."