In health class, I learned the dry technical details about sex, but hungered for the real thing

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In the 70’s, I knew little about women and even less about life. I quickly learned in the showers of the physical education classes about my endowment compared to my classmates. It was my neighbor, Eddie, who opened the door to my future with women. His dad had a collection of really explicit X rated magazines. Eddie showed me where they kept them, on the top shelf in their walk-in closet. It was nice to see men hung like me getting what they wanted. Even more exciting were the lusty, vibrant women who didn’t care what the preacher thought. The pairs, trios, and groups of people having sex of every different style burned their images into my memory and my soul.

We lived in a small mid-western town, heavily protestant, safe and secure. That meant that our homes were often left unlocked. I knew that Eddie would be at band practice for two hours after school, his Mom Sara would be at garden club, and his Dad Rick at work until six, or I never would have gone there that day. I went over their wall, past their pool, in the back door, and up the stairs. I got down the box which held the forbidden images, and started stroking my long member, one hand atop the other to cover the full length. I was panting hard, blood pounding in my ears, mere moments from cumming. I was lost to the world, alone with my hot dreams. Or so I thought.

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I heard her gasp, and looked up, spooked, knocking the fuckbook open on the floor. Mrs. Piper was there, in her pale blue dress and pill box hat, looking like a blond Jackie Onassis. Her page boy haircut and conservative dress were ten years out of style anywhere but the Midwest. Her face was frozen in a mixture of shock and lust. She couldn’t take her eyes off of my massive member. She was in a trance, like a snake priestess before her sacred python.

All I could think about was how much Sara looked like the star of the fuckbook. I’ll bet that was why Mr. Piper had bought it in the first place, to see his lovely wife as something other than the model wife and mother we all knew her to be. So I sat up and tried to pull her over to the bed. Sara was almost frozen in place, and I had to stand up to lead her to the bed. I wrapped her hand around my massive tool, but she was still in shock. I had to help her stroke my shaft, until she almost like a robot got the rhythm down. I wanted to touch her so bad, so I unzipped her dress. I still couldn’t get to her tits, so I moved my hand between her legs. In doing that, I pushed her onto all fours. Her face was right above my throbbing rod. I had no idea what I was doing, I was just copying scenes from the fuckbook, but Sara sure did. Her hot lips swept over the head of my cock as she stroked my length. No longer passive or frozen, she knew things about oral sex I’d never dreamt of, much less experienced. When I finally did get my hand between Sara’s legs, her panties were soaked with her excitement.

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