Monday, March 28, 2016
Vive la France
There are long-standing European traditions, especially in France it seems, when it comes to matters of the heart and pleasures of the flesh. No one bats an eyelash when a man keeps a mistress and it's routinely accepted. And a mature woman who takes a lover is admired and viewed as a sensualist for satisfying her considerable libido. But the most deliciously encouraged tradition is that of a woman of a certain age who takes a naive young man into her boudoir and introduces him to the mysterious and wonderful world of love and lust. I was incredibly fortunate to be one such young man.
I was 23 and she was a neighbour, a high school teacher, and older than my mother. A vivacious Quebecoise who had lived in France and dressed and carried herself in the most sensual yet elegant and dignified manner. A refined coquette with greying hair and sagging flesh and just the right amount of jewelry. I was a nervous but willing pupil and what I earned in her basement on a summer afternoon would change my life forever. Until then I thought that lovemaking was simply a matter of fucking and ejaculating and that a woman should automatically enjoy it. There was no notion of putting my face between her thighs and thoughts of the female orgasm had never entered my mind.
She was a kind and patient teacher and inquired about my limited sexual experience and knowledge. She asked if I would like to make a woman cum and when I agreed she told me to get down on
my knees and introduced me to the delicious delights of cunnilingus. She guided me verbally and showed me how to please her with both hands gentle on my head. Her pussy was plump and hairless with meaty pouting lips and her sweet juice oozed onto my eager tongue. Kneeling between her widespread thighs and feasting on her warm humid velvety flesh was the most erotic sensation I'd ever known. I obeyed her every direction as if in a trance and it seemed to go on forever, encouraged and excited by her hoarse whispers and mews and moans of pleasure. Her breathing became more rapid and seemed to be building urgently towards something unknown. She kept telling me not to stop.
Suddenly her entire body tensed and convulsed violently and she screamed in excruciating agony. It was like a volcanic explosion on top of an earthquake lasting for at least a couple of minutes and my face was drenched with sweet warm juice. I was initially terrified -- what had I done ? She seemed mortally wounded and in need of medical attention. She smiled when she saw the panic on my face and collapsed with an enormous sigh of contented bliss.
I awoke the next day to euphoria -- I had suddenly become the world's greatest lover and became forever addicted to worshipping at the altar of Venus. Nowadays I routinely beg for the honour and privilege of partaking in the sacred communion of my mouth and the holy grail of femininity. Bringing a woman to an intense squealing squirting orgasm with my lips and tongue and swallowing her delicious essence is still my greatest thrill.