Ms. Puckett’s Very Private School: Cindy

When you are filthy rich, you can do almost anything you want to do so long as it’s not illegal and not too unhealthy. Suzi Puckett was filthy rich. And what she chose to do with her money she liked to think of as a blessing to shy young men and their future wives. It was also a blessing to a host of frustrated women.

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“Where do you draw the line on sex?” Cindy Parker looked at the question on the paper she held.

She felt herself blushing as she looked up at the four other women sitting around the comfortable room. They all shared one thing in common. A couple of them were probably in their forties. The black girl was tall and slender. The blonde was on the verge of being chubby. But they were all very attractive. And each of them was carefully ignoring a form just like the one that had Cindy turning red.

Connie was her best friend. And Connie had warned her about the questions. She had also warned her that it was the most unusual job interview she would ever experience.

Cindy remembered that they’d been talking about their frustration with the men in their lives when Connie had said that she had the problem under control for the moment. And Cindy knew that her buddy was far happier than she’d been for some time. It didn’t take much coaxing to get the story from Connie.

She explained that one of her friends had introduced her to this lady who was operating a very exclusive, very private school. And that the lady had offered her a job on the weekends. The kicker was that it didn’t pay a cent. But it provided her with all the sex she could handle. And it didn’t require any game playing.

Connie had told her that the job involved teaching mostly-shy young men how to appeal to women and how to attract women and how to give their partners a maximum of pleasure in bed, or the shower, or at poolside or on the kitchen table. And Connie had laughed delightedly.

It wasn’t long before Cindy was almost begging Connie to introduce her to the lady, a Ms. Puckett. She’d been pleased and a little surprised when she got the invitation to learn more. Now she was sitting in the very fashionable living room of a lovely home in Buckhead with four other women. All of them were there for the same reason. They wanted more sex or more pleasure from sex than they were getting.

Their hostess, Rachel Benton, explained that she was not Ms. Puckett but that she would tell them what she could about the school and answer their questions, if possible. The discussions were timid at first and then more pointed and more personal. By the end of an hour, all of the newcomers were talking freely about their sex lives and all seemed agreeable to their role as teachers and ready to meet their first students.

At that moment, Bobby Wilson was pacing back and forth in the very plush suite he’d been sent to. He was so nervous he was almost ready to bail out. He looked around him and decided that his buddy and the Benton woman would never spend the cash for such a great room just to play a trick on him. And he wondered, for the thousandth time, what his teacher would look like and what she would try to teach him.

Twenty minutes later, Cindy was entering the elevator of the same exclusive hotel on Peachtree Street. She smiled at her reflection in the mirrored door, fluffed her blonde curls and tugged at her blouse to make sure it showed just enough cleavage. Her long legs, in the blue heels, looked delicious below the short blue skirt. When she found the room on the sixth floor she knocked softly.

“Who’s there?” a youthful voice asked after a moment.

“Is that you, Bobby?” she replied. She heard the chain clink and the door swung slowly open.

The boy who stood there was certainly not handsome, but he was well built and well dressed and he had a timid smile on his face. “Please come in,” he almost strangled.

She walked into the spacious room and heard him chain the door behind her. Then he stood beside her, his eyes focused on the carpet. “Would you like a chair,” he stammered, “or the couch?”

She looked around for a moment then settled in the center of the comfortable couch.

“May I get you a drink?” He smiled a timid smile. “A soft drink or beer,” he hesitated, “or some wine?”

“Well, it’s early, but some white wine would be nice,” she smiled, “if you have some.”

He went to the mini-fridge and recovered a soft drink and a small bottle of wine. He sneaked a peek at her in the mirror. God, she was a knockout. Not the little old schoolteacher type he had feared. Great legs and great boobs. And he struggled to arrange his rising cock so it didn’t strangle. In a moment he had opened the drinks and poured her wine into a stemmed glass.

“Thanks,” she beamed at his good manners. “Why don’t you sit here and let’s get acquainted.” She took a small sip and put the glass on the end table.

He sat, obviously uncomfortable and careful not to touch her.

Cindy smiled warmly and let her hand rest casually on his thigh. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Not exactly.” He paused. “I mean Mrs. Benton gave us a sort of orientation, but she left the lesson plan sort of vague.”

“Well, your first lesson deals with becoming more comfortable around girls…and women.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Do you like video games?”

Bobby looked up in surprise. “Yeah. Yes, Ma’am. I do.”

“Well, what do you do if your hero gets blindsided and killed by the villain?”

“I figure out what I did wrong and restart for another try.” He beamed.

“Exactly. And getting along with girls plays by very similar strategies. Remember, the worst that can happen is that you have to start over. You can’t let hurt feelings keep you from giving it another try.” She paused, “See what I mean?”

“I think so.” He spoke with enthusiasm.

“And remember, the more you know about your opponent, or your objective, or your goal the better you can control the situation.” She smiled warmly, “And the more you can enjoy the situation.”

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

“The more you know about what the girl likes and dislikes, the more you know what gives her pleasure, the more you can keep her coming back for more.”

“I understand that,” he confirmed.

“Okay.” She was warrming to her assignment. “Now remember to do all you can to make your partner feel comfortable and feel good about herself. Make her feel really wonderful. It’s okay to use all the flattery you can think of so long as it’s sort of honest.”

“So it’s okay for me to tell you that you’re beautiful?”

“Any woman would like that.” She was surprised at how much it pleased her.

He grew a little bolder, “And it’s okay for me to tell you that you have a really great figure?”

To her surprise, Cindy felt herself getting excited.”

“A good move.”

“What should I do next?”

“Well, what would you like to do?”

“Well, I’d like to hug you.”

“And what is the worst thing that can happen if you try to hug me?”

“You could tell me to stop.”

“Right. And if I did, what would your next move be?”

“I’d try to find out more about you…and about why you stopped me.”

“Great. And then what?”

“I’d try again.”

“Super.” She felt a little surge of accomplishment when he slid closer to her and shyly put his arm around her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I’m giving you a hug.”

Cindy snuggled closer to him. “That’s nice.”

They sat together, for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other. Then Cindy leaned forward and turned to face him. She put her feet up on the couch, her knees against the back and leaned into him, letting him cradle her in his arms. “Is that better?”

“Oh, yes,” he stammered as he held her closer and felt her full breasts flatten against his chest. She moved her head against his shoulder and began to caress his shoulder and chest. “Do you like that?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, darling, when a girl touches you she is probably sending you a message. For instance, if she rubs your thigh or your cheek or your chest she may be signaling that it’s okay for you to return the pleasure.”

“You mean?”

She smiled eagerly and almost bubbled when he put his hand on her thigh and caressed it from hip to knee.

“I like it.” And she caressed his cheek.

Her satisfaction increased when he moved his fingers to caress her own cheek. Her face was close to his and she tried to convey her desire without words. It was hard to believe how excited she got when he read her message and leaned in to touch his lips to hers. After a couple of tentative kisses, he became more aggressive, pressing harder against her lips. And she was more pleased when she felt his tongue touch her lips. She pushed away from him a little and looked into his eyes. Then she opened her lips and kissed him with an open mouth, her tongue seeking his and relishing the minty flavor of his mouth. She moaned into him, aware of the heat building in her as their tongues dueled.

Bobby was in heaven as he held her and caressed her shoulder and arm and side while his tongue relished the heat and flavor of hers. He felt her hand on his chest, felt her fingers slip inside his shirt and close on his nipple, and it took him a minute to get the message. When he moved his hand from her shoulder, slowly, to cup her breast, he almost fainted with delight when she leaned into his hand. And she moaned into his mouth when he gently pinched her engorged nipple.

He couldn’t believe that he was holding this lovely woman and touching her breast and that she was welcoming it too.

They both enjoyed the caresses for several minutes. Then Cindy pushed back a little. “Feeling more comfortable now?” she whispered.

“Oh, my goodness, yes,” he gasped.

“And what would you like to do next?”

“I’d like to please you even more,” he hesitated then whispered, “Darling.”

“I’d like that, too, Darling.” And she leaned back in his arms when he moved his hand to the top button on her blouse. It took him a couple of minutes of unfamiliarity to get all the buttons open and then he was caressing the warm creamy flesh above her lacy bra.

When he hesitated, she sat up and began tugging the blouse out of her waistband. “Want to get this out of the way?” She tossed it to the back of the couch.