Lessons Ch. 01



Chapter One

Sunday Night

Margaret sat at her computer frustrated. She considered herself to be a smart woman; progressive and usually comfortable with new ideas. These computers though, were an entirely different story. She thought of herself as logical, but nothing about this computer seemed logical to her. It frustrated her. Why couldn’t the computer think like she did? Surely, it should be able to keep up with her. Lately, it seemed to be running more and more slowly.

As an English Literature professor and aspiring writer, Margaret used her computer daily. She depended on it for both teaching and her own writing. Yet, she knew very little except the basics. “Maybe I should consider taking one of the computer classes that the college offers,” she thought. The challenge was always the timing; working the computer classes around her own class schedule. There was also the question of the appropriateness of taking a class with one of her colleagues and with classmates who could very likely be her own students. All that seemed awkward. “There has to be another option,” she thought. “I just haven’t thought of it yet.”

She put away that thought for the moment and concentrated on the immediate concern. “It’s so time consuming,” she thought. There was little extra time in her tight schedule. When computer challenges occurred, they inevitably threw her off and something was usually shortchanged.

“I’ll call Anderson’s tomorrow and see if they have any ideas on how to make this run more efficiently,” she thought. Finally, the screen unlocked and responded to her commands. By this time she was tired and out of the mood for her writing. She shut down the computer and began to get ready for bed.

She moved from the small desk in her bedroom and began to undress. She threw her clothes straight into the hamper and grabbed the silk nightie from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. She cleansed and moisturizer her face before settling into bed for some research time.

Margaret Wilkes. English Literature professor by day; erotic writer by night. “If only they knew,” she thought. “I wonder if any of my colleagues at the college read my stories on the Internet. I wonder what they would think; how they would feel if they knew the author was me”

In spite of the women’s revolution and the many changes that it did effect in the world, her colleagues at this small private college in this equally small, Mid-western town were still very conservative. When it came to matters of human sexuality, well, they were downright prim and puritan. Margaret was much more liberal than the world in which she moved. She was well known around campus for her frank and open discussions of all matters, even the big four, money, politics, religion and sex. She wondered if her openness had cost her some momentum on the tenure track. “Perhaps,” she thought, “but so be it.” She often felt like a fish out of water; a city girl in a small college town. She wondered if her frankness also hindered her dating options. After two years here, Margaret had yet to meet a man who intrigued her. Not that it mattered because although she’d had a few dates, no one had asked her out twice.

Her thoughts turned to other matters as the video appeared on the screen of the small TV in her bedroom. Erotica was a passion for Margaret. Many nights before she slept, Margaret did research. She watched the images on the screen for ideas for her stories. At the same time, she became highly aroused and ended most sessions by masturbating herself to orgasm.

She slipped the silk nightie over her head and reached for the box of toys that she kept by her bed. She stroked herself gently with a vibrator. She watched the man on the screen perform cunnilingus on the woman. He began slowly with his tongue barely flicking at the woman’s clitoris. The woman on the screen began to moan softly. The man continued on at this slow pace for a very long time. Then his tongue began to move up and down her entire vulva. The pace and the pressure both seemed to be increasing. She watched as he took the outer lips of her labia in between his teeth. “I wonder how hard he bites down,” Margaret thought. Her own hands moved the vibrator faster and more firmly. That was the kind of research that was difficult without a partner. For a moment, Margaret remembered Lee. What an incredible lover he had been. They had learned and shared so much together. After two years, she still missed him. Even now, she could close her eyes and remember the smell of him, the feel of him and most importantly, the way she felt when she was with him.

The couple on the screen shifted into a different position. Margaret watched as the woman opened her legs for the man to enter her. Margaret could see that the woman’s vagina was swollen and red. The man’s penis was huge. Silently, Margaret wondered if sex could really be comfortable with a penis that large. She had always enjoyed deep penetration with Lee, but truth to tell, that tool seemed gaziantep escort bayan sitesi larger than life and potentially more painful than pleasureful. Margaret heard herself gasp as the man shoved his penis deep into the woman’s vagina. Only a moment later, Margaret shoved the vibrator into her own vagina. The man on the screen pumped hard and fast into the woman. Margaret moved the vibrator quickly and firmly inside herself. She was wet with her own juices. The artificial tool moved easily in and out of her. She pushed it deep; feeling the tip of her cervix. It felt so good. One advantage of “do-it-your-self-loving”. You always knew exactly how hard to push and when. So few men took the time to understand the subtle variations in pressure and pacing that brought the greatest intensity to a woman’s orgasms. Lee had really paid attention to her body and her responses to him. At the end he had known her body almost better than she did. Her body was a priceless instrument. He was a master musician. He was extraordinary. With him, she had felt extraordinary.

Margaret was breathing hard and fast. She had totally lost track of the action on the screen. She pushed the vibrator in and out; occasionally flicking quickly on her throbbing clit, before plunging the full length of the tool into herself. She shoved it in as deep as she could and clamped her legs tightly together. With both hands, she rubbed fast and hard on her clit as the vibrations continued in her vagina. Margaret could feel the orgasm building from deep within her. She felt herself quiver inside and the waves of pleasure rolled over her. One hand left her clit to push and hold the vibrator as deep as it could go, just as the height of the orgasm hit. She gave herself up to the shaking and shuddering of her body as it was racked with the power of her own release.

She heard heavy breathing and wondered for a moment if it was on the TV or from her. Her chest was heaving. It was from her. She reached down and gently slid the vibrator from her tender flesh. She reached for the remote, shut off the TV and turned on the CD. She closed her eyes and fell to sleep remembering the power of the orgasms that she had experienced with Lee. “There will never be another man for me,” she thought as the salty tears spilled out of her tightly closed eyes. “He is the best.”

Monday Morning

The morning light streamed into her bedroom and woke Margaret. She rolled over and felt the hard, cold vibrator. Not exactly the hot morning penis that she loved to feel poking into her backside. It reminded Margaret of how alone she felt; how she had still not grown accustomed to sleeping by herself. She wondered if she ever would.

She pulled herself out of bed and into the shower. “I have to call that computer store first thing; as soon as they open,” she thought. Moving through her morning routine, Margaret was everywoman. She quickly applied her makeup, fixed her hair and dressed for the day. Before leaving the house, the bed was made, the coffee pot was off and the clean cup was sitting in the dish drainer.

Arriving at her office at the college, Margaret looked up the information for the computer store in her PDA. “That’s another thing. This thing probably does tons of stuff that I have no clue about. That’s it! The solution to my problem. What I need is a personal technology tutor,” she thought as she waited for her call to be answered.

“Good morning. Anderson Computer Sales and Service. How can I help you?” the voice on the other end said.

“What a wonderful voice,” Margaret thought. “May I speak with Tom Anderson?”

“One moment, please.”

“Tom Anderson speaking,” said the new voice on the other end.

“Tom, good morning. This is Margaret Wilkes from the English Department over at the college. I purchased my home computer from you about six months ago. It seems to be running sluggishly and freezing up frequently. Do you have any suggestions? I’m feeling real frustrated.”

“Have you de-fragmented it?”

“De what?”

“De-fragmented it?” he repeated. “I guess not, if you don’t even recognize the term. I have a new kid from the college helping me out with service calls. Josh. He’s the one who answered the phone. I can have him stop by to look at it. He can show you how to de-fragment it and make sure there’s nothing else wrong. Would this afternoon work?”

“That would be great. My last class is at 3:00 PM. I can be home by 4:15 PM. I’ll meet him then. Thanks so much, Tom. It’s great to do business where customer service is still a priority.”

Monday Afternoon

Margaret noticed the white van with the words Anderson Computer Sales and Service sitting in her driveway as she turned the corner. “My gosh, am I late?” she thought as she glanced down at the digital clock on the dash. “No. He’s early. Well, that’s a pleasant surprise.”

She eased her car into the garage and before she was completely out gaziantep escort bayan forum of it, a young man stood next to the open door. “Afternoon Ms. Wilkes. I’m Josh from Anderson’s. I’m here to look at your computer. Can I help you carry anything in?”

“He’s early and he’s got manners? What’s up with this one?” she thought as she slid out of the car. She stood next to him and was immediately struck by the sheer size of him. He was well over 6′ tall; probably close to 6’4″. He had the solid muscular build that was typical of an athlete. “I hope he knows about computers,” she thought.

“Yes, thank you Josh. Will you grab these books while I take my briefcase? Follow me.”

She was aware of him following closely behind her across the garage and into the house. “Just put them down on the kitchen table,” she said. “I need something cool to drink. Would you like something?”

“No thank you, ma’am. I appreciate you asking though.” As he spoke he looked down at his feet. He appeared very young and very nervous.

“OK, then. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll show you where the computer is.”

Margaret led him through the quiet house and into her bedroom. Her computer was on a small desk. “Here it is.” she said.

“Thanks, Ms. Wilkes. I’ll take a look.”

“That’s fine, Josh. Can I watch? Maybe I’ll learn something? I don’t know much about computers. Frankly, they seem like a big puzzle to me, and in a foreign language, too.”

She looked at him more closely as he settled his large frame onto the small desk chair. His hair was dark brown, almost black. It was thick and wavy. His eyes, she noted, in the brief moment that he had actually looked at her, were a deep, piercing blue. He was a good-looking kid. Kid being the operable word. He couldn’t be more that 18 or 19; a freshman away from home for the first time. He looked vaguely familiar to her. She couldn’t place where she had seen him, except to be certain that it hadn’t been in one of her classes.

His hands danced over the controls and the keyboard of her computer. He seemed to know where everything was and how everything worked. “Maybe he does know something about these darn things,” she thought as she watched the confident way that he moved through the steps of discerning the problem.

“Would you like me to explain to you what I’m doing?” he asked tentatively.

“That would be great, Josh. Just assume I know nothing, because I don’t.”

As he began to talk about the computer, his voice was calm and confident. She was reminded of her first thought upon hearing him say hello earlier that morning. His voice was indeed wonderful, deep and soothing.” This young man before her certainly presented a complex and seemingly conflicting array of attributes. She found herself becoming curious and wanting to know more about him.

“To de-fragment, you need to follow this procedure,” he said clearly. He explained it in simple language that she was able to follow. “It’ll take a while for this to process,” he said, obviously more nervous now that his focus was not consumed by the computer. He sat silently, looking at either the keyboard or the screen, never at her.

“”Josh, Tom Anderson told me that you were a student at the college. You do look familiar to me. What are you studying?”

“I’m working on my dissertation on 19th century English Literature. My advisor is Professor Butler. You may have seen me around his office. I know I’ve seen you. Your office is just down the hall from his.”

“Your dissertation? You look so young. I thought you were only a freshman.” She watched his cheeks immediately begin to blush and knew that she had embarrassed him. “I’m sorry, Josh. Maybe it’s me. At my age, everyone looks like a kid.”

“That’s OK, Ms. Wilke. Everyone thinks I’m younger than I am. I still get carded in the bars. I turned 26 last month.”

“Wow,” she thought, “He’s only eight years younger than I am, but he looks like just a kid. I must be getting old.”

The computer continued to de-fragment. Josh was silent and clearly nervous.

“What is your dissertation on, Josh?”

“Erotica in 19th Century Literature, ” he said in a barely audible voice.

Margaret’s mouth dropped. “Oh my! What did that stodgy old Professor Butler know about erotica? That’s my field,” she thought. Now, Margaret was the one to be nervous. She had felt the subtle stirrings of a physical reaction, just to his voice this morning. With Josh sitting here in her bedroom, well, she could feel the moistness beginning between her legs. And now the subject of erotica had come up. “We can’t go there,” she thought.

“Excuse me, Josh. I need to get some more ice tea. Have you changed your mind? Can I get you anything?”

“No thank you, Ms. Wilkes,” he replied. “I think this is almost done. I’ll just sit here and then make sure everything else is in good working order.”

Margaret left the bedroom escort bayan gaziantep and hurried back into the kitchen. She leaned into the counter and willed herself to calm down. “He’s just a kid. An extremely attractive, kid,” she added in spite of herself. “Even though some of his interests run parallel to mine, he’s just a kid. Calm down, Margaret,” she told herself.

A short time later, she walked back into the bedroom. She didn’t think Josh heard her. He seemed totally engrossed in something on the computer. She watched him silently from across the room. She was totally mesmerized by him. She noticed over his shoulder that he seemed to have a text file open. “I wonder what he’s reading,” she thought continuing to watch him. He obviously was totally lost in whatever it was. His hands lay quietly on each thigh. She noticed that his hands were very large. “Just like the rest of him,” she found herself wondering. “Margaret. Stop this,” she chided herself. “He’s a kid. You’re a professor and eight years his senior.”

Suddenly, he seemed to sense her in the room. His hands moved quickly back to the keyboard. With one stroke he changed the screen and then turned to look over his shoulder. “Oh, Ms. Wilkes. You’re back,” he stammered out. The situation clearly reminded Margaret of a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’m just finishing up here. The de-fragmenting is complete and I’ve cleaned up a few things. It seems to be running fine again.”

“Thank you, Josh,” Margaret said as she walked toward him. I appreciate your prompt response and thorough service. Is there a fee?”

“You’re still under the first year service contract. There is no charge.”

She watched as he stood and gathered his papers. He bent to slide them into his pack. She noticed how gracefully he moved. She also noticed what a great ass he had.

“Well, thank you again, Josh. Let me show you out.” She wondered if she was imagining it, but she thought she felt his eyes on her backside as he followed her back through the house and into the garage. He walked past her to his van. His arm brushed up against her breast as he passed. Immediately she felt her nipple respond. He continued to walk away. She didn’t want him to leave. She followed him out to the van. “Thanks again, Josh,” How many times have I thanked him she thought to herself. “Stop by and see me sometime when you’re in to see Professor Butler. I’d be interested in looking over your dissertation. Erotica is a special interest of mine.”

Without looking directly into her eyes, he murmured, “Thanks, Ms. Wilkes. I’d like that.”

Monday Evening

Later that evening, with her schoolwork finished, Margaret turned again to her writing. As she sat down in the small desk chair that Josh had occupied earlier, she remembered the look of him and her response to him. “I wonder what he was looking at so intently,” she asked herself. The computer booted up and Margaret entered into the word processing program. She decided to check out the most recently used files. “Oh my gosh,” she gasped, “He was reading my stories.”

There before her on the computer was the trail of information that indicated clearly that in ‘checking out’ her computer, Josh had opened some of her story files. She almost felt a sense of being violated. Her stories represented the most private and intimate part of her psyche. The only person she had ever shared them with had been Lee. Oh yes, there were all those thousands of people who read them on-line. They didn’t really count though because they were anonymous. Josh was real. The potential existed for her to run into him again. “Be honest,” she told herself, “You want to run into him again. But how will I feel now, knowing that he has read some of my stories?”

She found herself responding to the idea of his knowledge of her through her stories. “I wonder what parts he read? What did he think? How did he feel? What did he think of her?” As she thought about it, her hands moved between her legs. Without even being aware of it, she began to gently play with her vulva. Closing her eyes she leaned back in the chair; remembering that it had held his strong, young bottom earlier in the day. “I wish I were sitting on him, instead of this chair,” she thought. She imagined him beneath her. She remembered his hands on his thighs. She imagined the ripples of muscles hidden under his clothes. She wondered if his penis was as large as his hands. Silly girl, that’s an old wives’ tale, equating the size of a man’s hands with the size of his penis. She knew it had no basis in reality, but it sure was fun to contemplate.

This young man had surely gotten to her; and gotten to her quickly and deeply. She sensed a certain chemistry between them, and wondered if he had felt it too. “You’re silly,” she scolded herself. “He’s an attractive young man. He probably has a beautiful, young, tightly toned co-ed on his arm right now. He certainly has no interest in an old maid like me.”

She turned her thoughts away from the reality of Josh and to the fantasies playing out in her story. She continued to work until late in the night. When she finally crawled into bed very early the next morning, it was without any research videos, without any toys, but with the very vivid memory of a certain dark haired, blue eyed young man. His face filled her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

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