I shrugged. “Not that I’m the expert, but…I doubt it. This was the only time something like this ever happened to me, and it was part of some dare. But I’ll get to that.”
“So was she good at…you know…sucking cock?”
“Um…yeah…really good actually.”
“How so? What did she do?”
I explained that, in my opinion, the girls who give the best head actually let their hands do most of the work, and that when it’s done right, it should be a wet handjob, with the mouth providing the lubrication. I said that Wunmi understood this and used her hands perfectly.
Nana was astounded by this observation. “All this time, I’ve been doing it wrong! Most of the time, to make it work, I end up having to move my head. It’s exhausting. And you’re telling me I should just be using my hand to help?!”
“Um…yeah”
“Show me”
“Show you what? I’m not that flexible.”
“Very funny. I don’t mean with your mouth. I mean, show me how you use your hand. Take off your shorts and show me.”
Why not? I thought to myself, and a moment later my shorts were down to my knees and my cock was standing at attention. Nana’s eyes went wide the moment my cock came into view. I started moving my hand slowly up and down the shaft of my penis, my eyes still glued to Nana’s perfect breasts.
“Is that how I should do it? Slowly like that.”
“Not really,” I explained, “but you have to be slower and more gentle when there’s no lubrication. Otherwise, it can hurt.”
“Hmm, I’ve got an idea.” Nana got up, her breasts jiggling wildly, and walked over to her dresser. On the top was a bottle of hand lotion. A moment later, she was hovering over me, squirting the lotion onto my cock and right hand.
As the lotion coated the length of my cock, I began moving my hand much faster, gripping it tightly. Nana watched intently like she was studying for an exam. She was now sitting next to me on the edge of the bed.
“Tell me the rest of the story, Lanre. How did it end?”
“Well, at first it was so dark in the toilet that I couldn’t see anything. But eventually, my eyes adjusted to the dark and I could see her. I could see that she was looking up at me. She would take her mouth off my cock every few strokes and smile up at me, while her hand continued to stroke me. She was clearly enjoying getting me off.”
“You liked the eye contact?”
“Oh definitely. There’s something so intimate about that. I liked the smile too. Some girls get so serious during sex. Playfulness is usually sexier.”
Nana seemed to consider that for a moment. Then she asked, “So what then? Did she make you come?”
“Oh yeah. But not the way I expected. When I was getting close, I think she could sense it. She just stood up, abruptly, her hand still firmly stroking my cock, and she leaned in to kiss me. We hadn’t kissed up until that point. It was a slow, intimate kiss. Then she moved her mouth up to my ear and whispered to me, ‘Come for me.’ Her voice was so sexy, and confident. Her grip was so firm. I came almost immediately after that.”
“Wow, that’s incredible. What happened to all the spunk?”
“Not sure. The floor of the toilet, I guess. She pointed my cock away from her when I came.”
“Well, I’m sure her friend appreciated that. Speaking of which, I can tell you’re getting close now. Just shoot it onto your stomach and I’ll get you a tissue.”
Taking that as my cue to wrap things up, I took one last gaze at Nana’s breasts and allowed myself to come. Quite a bit of cum – more than from a typical wank – shot out onto my stomach, causing Nana’s eyes to again grow wide.
As soon as I was done, she got me a tissue and immediately put her shirt back on. Soon we were back in bed, her nestled in against me, as if nothing had happened.
For the next several weeks, this same general routine played itself out almost every other night. At Nana’s suggestion, we would get naked (Nana even took her shorts and panties off a few times), and I would tell her about a prior sexual escapade while masturbating in front of her. As strange as it all was, it came to feel almost routine.
We didn’t do it every night, but at least every other. Before long, I was running out of material to share with her. I had already told her about my most memorable encounters and even a few of the less memorable ones.
*
Nana seemed to get that I was only 25 and didn’t have a limitless supply of erotic stories to share with her, but I could tell that her thirst for sexual knowledge wasn’t quenched. One night, as we were talking, I made the obvious point that there’s only so much you can learn through verbal explanation or even demonstration.
At some point, you have to do something, you have to practice, to learn how to do it well.
Almost as soon as the words left my mouth, I worried that she might take them the wrong way. As much as I fantasised about her doing so, I really wasn’t trying to convince her to break her ground rules. But I succeeded nonetheless.
“You know, you’re right, Lanre. If I actually want to learn how to do any of these things well, I’m going to need to practice them. I feel bad about it, but I still think Kwesi will be the ultimate beneficiary. So here are the new rules. I can touch you, as needed, but you can’t touch back, at least not while I’m naked. Understood?”
I nodded. At that point, Nana – who was wearing nothing but a pair of cotton pyjama shorts – reached over and gently put her hand on my cock. I was so conditioned by the no-contact rule that her touch felt at first like an electric shock. It was a sensory overload. Slowly, gently, she began stroking my cock, doing a pretty good approximation of my own technique.
After a few minutes, she leaned over me and grabbed the bottle of lotion, which she now kept permanently on the nightstand. She squirted quite a bit onto her palm, rubbed her hands together, and then placed both of them around the shaft of my cock.
Gradually, she increased her speed, as well as the tightness of her grip. It felt phenomenal. The stimulation was so intense that I lasted less than a minute before erupting like a geyser. She was leaning over me so closely that some of my cum splashed up onto her left breast.
She smiled when she saw it, as if admiring her handiwork.
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