BACK TO VANNA's HOMEPAGEFlash back to my university days.
I shared a house with four other students. Another girl and I shared the groundfloor and three boys were upstairs. The facilities were common, such as the upstairs bathroom and a big kitchen. We ate our evening meals there together as a rule, sharing the cooking by a rota.
I am taken by the dark haired boy, Lee, 19 years of age, who is quiet enough in presence of his male friends, but very quiet when both of these are absent and he finds himself in the presence of us two girls. When we engage him and practically force him to speak, he hardly dares look us in the face. He is so different from his fellow-men, even if it was one of them that introduced him. Mary and I accepted because he looked good and it was nice to have a bashful type instead of all these would-be ladykillers and men-of-the-world. Mary teases him on occasion, much to his dispair. He blushes. Likely a virgin. Nothing wrong with that in my book. I feel he needs a boost to come into his own.
This evening he finds himself alone with me, the other three having gone their own ways for various reasons. I am the cook that night. He is clearly beside himself given the situation he finds himself in. I start by trying a conversation, but am unable to engage him, in talk that is. Normally a situation to get impatient, desperate and angry. But I like him and understand him! Therefore I take it upon myself to instigate a solo performance - entertain and talk. The strangest one-sided conversation, punctuated by a grunt, sigh, a yes or no of his! I resign to not managing to extract a full sentence of his. Myentertainment then. What I put on is really quite composed; I merely go through my motions as if I were a modern ballet dancer performing a kitchen choreography, but not nearly extragavant... Restrained rather... Restrained... I do not look at him much. That would intimidate him. What I notice is the rapt attention he pays to me during the chance gazes I throw him. I continue this process when we eat. Our positions are confrontational; we sit opposite each other. I who talk whilst looking at him in a most engaging and cheerful manner, he who slumps in his chair with his eyes buried in his food and uttering his punctuating monosylables. I move gracefully like a great repertoire theatre actress, confident that he sees me at the fringe of his vision. It is mighty hard work, still, so when the dishes are done I cannot help bidding my farewell and retire.
A bath. That is what I need.
To relax and loosen up. Do I need a bath indeed! I draw it and take nice bottle of wine with me. The evening sun warms the room and I sit happily dreaming away as the room gradually darkens.
I have all but forgotten that I have not locked the door, on purpose of course, when I hear him approach on the landing and fumble with the door handle. My reaction is natural: I start! In a split second I am calm again and conscious of my plans. He will not have heard the brief splashing, beyond any doubt, as he enters quietly and switches on the light. It takes him a number of seconds to realise I am there. During that time he has locked the door, thrown his towel down on a cabinet and is now preparing to undo his jeans for use of the toilet.
I clear my throat and softly say, 'Lee, don't be frightened now.' He becomes just that and freezes, then hastens to zip up and go scram!
'Don't leave, Lee.'
His hand is on the door handle.
'Do not leave, I said!' Sharp my words.
He does not move, with his back still facing me.
I rise from my sitting position in the bath.
'Turn around, Lee.'
Do I deceive myself or is he trembling? He would be!
'Lee, you have to turn around and look at me!', I command.
'You will see a naked woman's body, a quite harmless thing. To you it is mightier than the sword. Now be a man! You be mighty!'
I then add, more softly, 'You know, there has got to be a first time.'
... an interminable silence, no movement...
Softly... 'Turn around, Lee.'
He slowly consents, head down...
[Oh, he is a child and I his mother!]
Softly still, 'I am losing my patience, Lee. Lift your head and look at me, for God's sake, no ... Why Him! ... Damn you!... For your sake!'
And there he is, gaze and all. No trumpets, no angels. His pale blue eyes are upon me from his bright red face.
'Come on! Approach me now like a shot. I am getting excessively cold. Dry me.' During these four sentences my voice has gone from a imposing fortissimo to an inviting, no ... seductive whisper. Lee realises he is caught in a trap and has no choice, but do I see the first hints of desire in his eyes when he looks at me before approaching? He picks up a towel and there he is, before me... I offer him my right foot and add, 'Go very, very slowly and look at what it is you are handling. Consider me at once a puppet for you to command and a woman of flesh and blood.'
And he takes my foot and dries it carefully, handling one toe after the other, drying between them as he should, gently - yes, he is clumsy as well. He looks at the toes carefully - oh, I am sure he considers me a refined creature with my toenails painted red. He will not fail to spot a birthmark on this foot. The time comes when he is done though and he must move up.
How high will he dare to go? Is that a question? There is no choice but to go all the way. I am sure he is coming to grips with the idea.
Ankle first. Is he like me thinking of the times, not so long ago, when seeing a woman's naked ankle was delightfully indecent?
My calf is the first highlight of the journey. Finely muscular, something to really hold and massage... He does this well.
The knee then. A relative lowlight, as my kneecap protrudes more than I would like. He... He will be preoccupied. For him, it is the last stop before the final stretch towards the crotch, that most desired of female attributes, yet so dreaded. Not surprising, really, as it in principle represents the origin of half of history's wars and strife!
Up the thigh, holder of such large and powerful muscles. His grip is variable.
And now...
No, my other foot first. And then the left ankle. It is likely that Lee has never spotted this before, but now he will not fail to see that my left ankle bears the signs of the serious fracture I suffered when a truck swept me off my bicycle at the age of 13. A sad episode. From the way he suddenly halts I feel he is momentarily distracted from the grave task of drying a naked woman.
Upward, young man! My fine left calve, my less than fine left knee, the last stop before the next one, which now certainly must be my crotch. Lee goes up my thigh and slowly, yes, but inevitably reaches my crotch. I set my feet apart and spread my legs. I then flatten my pubic hair and pull it to the sides. 'There, Lee, look at the miracle. Every woman has one. That includes your Mum. You passed through there, you know.
'But it is a miracle still. The double folds...', and I hold open the outer labia to fully reveal the inner pair, and then the inner labia, '... protecting the true sanctuary, mine untested really, the womb that is... See also that clitoris under its little hood, which is supposed to excite and lubricate me in order to assist the man's entry... Ach, you know all that, don't you?'
And there, his first word, 'Yes...'! [No, not 'Yes, Mama!' Excuse me for this inappropriate little joke. Please realise the affair required a good degree of patience on my part.] He sounds pensive indeed, no longer rigid with fear. He has not looked me in the eye, however.
'Now dry the rest of me, as I am getting very cold.'
He dries my buttocks. I do not bend over and show him my anus, by the way. That would be the advanced course. I doubt it would do much for him at this stage. Better for him to simply enjoy these shapes.
My back... Really a favourite of mine, as it shows an elegant strength and straightness.
My belly... Soft, punctuated by that delightful navel.
My chest then, holding my mid-sized breasts... For a boy, it is perhaps the breasts even more than the vagina that defines a woman's sex - they are so prominent. For grown men (are they ever so?) their importance remains when they get to play with them and, indeed, register the female's reactions. I take Lee's hands when he dries them, push them against my breasts and have him massage them in a rotating manner... both of us, together. [I no longer felt like a mother to him, but equally I am not his lover. How could I be a lover to a boy like him? His older sister then, pardon me for the implications.]
Impatience strikes and I take the towel and quickly dry my head and arms myself. Then put his hands back where they were, on my breasts.
'Feel the nipples, Lee. They are small and soft. Now take them between two fingers and squeeze and rub them. Watch them grow. I cannot help this, if you do it only half-well.'
[Indeed, I cannot. The inveterate slut in me comes to the fore sooner or later. She begins the relish the situation. An attractive young man - though he does not know this yet - who has become utterly compliant in my hands.
She is... I am aroused! If he continues to learn and progress at this rate, he might well take me compliant in his hands. Mmm... in that case I would have succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. Dream on, Vanna...]
'Now look at me, Lee. Look me in the eyes. I am ready, if you know what I mean by that.'
His gaze remains cast down.
'Give me your hand.'
He initiates the movement but it takes me to bridge the gap. I grab his hand and slowly move it towards my crotch and land his middle finger in my cleft. His face moves away, eyes closed.
'You see, I am wet. You know, I am ready.'
Releasing his hand, I say once more,
'Look me in the eyes, Lee...'
And I see his gaze lifting slowly and uncertainly meet mine. [Poor guy! Why is it so difficult for man to follow nature? He should have had me by now.]
'Vanna... I'm so sorry... '
'Hush... You should be indeed. But there, you are looking at me! A naked woman! And you live!' I smile broadly and - behold the rising sun! - he follows suit!
Then I drop the smile and command, 'Now you undress!' I allow him a split second during which I perceive his mind starting to protest, but I immediately jump on him. 'Don't think, you fool! Take off those clothes and quick, or I will throw you out and never look at you again.'
He stares at me, frozen, then his hands start to tremble... Suddenly he frantically rips them off, his shirt, losing a button of two, his T-shirt, jeans, socks and shorts. He stands panting before me, but looks at me all the same, naked and erect. He is a long distance runner, so is subtly muscular.
'Now, my dear Lee... Has anyone ever told you you have a beautiful body? I have seen a few as good and many worse...'
'Now grab your clothes and come with me to my room.'
I collect my clothes and place them across an arm. He copies me and when he is done, I cast him a commanding look and take him by an arm. He follows me, the dear, out of the bathroom and down the stairs to my room. Outside it is getting dark. I quickly draw the curtains and light a few pink coloured candles, whilst he stands there looking at my shape. I am happy to observe that he has remained erect.
I smile at him and softly say to him, 'Lee, I am going to fuck you. You have guessed so much.'
He looks at me. He does not reply, but manages to look at me.
[I believe he has crossed the bridge to, well, maturity - ah, dirty word! Let's land him!]
'Mind you, my friend, I am not in love. But I do like you very much and wish to, well, liberate you as your inhibition is painful to see. I imagine you will think you are in love with me, certainly afterwards. Please try not to be. Under those conditions we'll have fun together and I will make you a man.'
I stop and smile at him. I place my finger on his bare chest and trace it down, concluding with a playful peck on the head of his erect penis. 'Can you promise me you won't fall in love?'
He mutters something, but I interrupt him.
'Hush... You can't. You will be in love. But remember that the more you will express this, the less I will engage with you. Let things happen. That is my advice.
'Now, before I kill any arousal in you with my chattering... Go on, lie down.'
He does and looks up expectantly. A formality first; I expertly slip a condom over his thing and then look him over.
[He is a pretty boy, really! Oh, if I can get him experienced, some girl will be lucky!]
I go astride of him, take his penis and lower myself onto it. There!
I gently start rocking. He closes his eyes and relaxes like I have never seen him. Moans and sighs... By necessity I stop my instructions. Finally my own arousal has taken over. I can only remember to watch his complexion and adjust my tempo when he would threaten to come prematurely. We have to keep going! I cannot bear to be done and not have had my own well deserved orgasm. I transcend to everland gradually... and hear a howl and feel his mighty spasms, one, two, three, four and he fades...
No time to lose. I frigg my love button, arched far back, and manage to bring myself off in one stretch of concentration...
Sweet heaven!
After a minute of taught immobility, I roll off him heavily and lie next to him, one arm on his chest .... and fall asleep.
When I woke and later opened my eyes, I found that he sat in the chair next to me and was watching me. He was dressed. When he registered that I was awake, he moved over, kissed me on the cheek, whispered, 'Thank you, Vanna', without looking at me, and disappeared. 'Well done,' I thought to myself and got up to take a shower.
Was he really different after this grace seduction? Oh, yes, noticably to us girls at least. But I did not let on to Mary as to why? And he was commendable in the restraint he showed towards me. Of course he was in love with me, but he did not make a pass. I consider he might have been capable now or even compelled, but he made no pass. I invited him again a few days later and we had a good time, he and I.
And for the rest? I coupled him to a girlfriend at the next party I threw. I had prompted her to take the initiative, promising her she would get a handsome, dear and faithful boyfriend. She is that kind of girl, to take the initiative. Why not?
She has thanked me numerous times.
Copyright by Vanna Vechian, 2004. Reproduction allowed only for personal use.
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