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I first encountered him in a school physics class, where he at all times occupied the seat behind me. In those early weeks, he kept to himself, but every time I turned to him for help, he effortlessly provided the answers. Beneath his shyness and social awkwardness, he possessed an undeniable charm. His jet-black hair cascaded down his back, and his attire consisted of band t-shirts from Joy Division and Bauhaus, a testament to his impeccable taste in music. Recognizing his intelligence, I couldn’t help but be drawn to him.

With a important test looming, I decided to invite him over to my place to study together. To my surprise, he appeared dressed slightly smarter than usual, having just gotten a fresh haircut. It became apparent that his intentions extended beyond academic pursuits. As we delved into our studies, it was clear that he was the one teaching me, as he was already well-versed in the subject matter. When our studying came to an end, I shifted the conversation to a more intimate realm.

He confided in me that he struggled to discover a date, and to my curiosity, he admitted his lack of sexual experience. It seemed that his inexperience was a deterrent to school women. He did mention a few encounters during high college but confessed to never having explored the art of pleasing a woman orally or manually.

During a particularly steamy dry spell following a breakup with my previous lover, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire. I mustered up the courage to offer him my assistance in gaining the experience he desired. Nodding in agreement, he leaned in for a kiss, and I seized the opportunity to take things further. “Wait a minute,” I paused, teasingly. “Come over here, we’re going to embark on a lesson in anatomy.”

Guiding him to take a seat on the dining room chair, I slowly undressed, allowing the anticipation to create. Placing a cushion on the table, I gracefully climbed atop it, extending my legs towards him. Piece by piece, I encouraged him to explore each unique part of my womanhood, eagerly displaying its intricate sections. Delicately, I showcased my preferred techniques for stimulation and sensually demonstrated how to navigate the contours of my sensitive nub with my tongue.

I painstakingly taught him the art of teasing around the edges, gently guiding his fingers into depths he had yet to explore. Though initial awkwardness filled the air, he quickly grasped the rhythm and technique. At one point, consumed by my pleasure, I instinctively took control, grasping his head and commanding him not to stop. With each continued movement, my pleasure intensified, and I couldn’t help but vocalize my desires.

“Remember, when a lady tells you not to stop during oral, maintain your previous actions,” I moaned, equally mesmerized by his willingness to comply. Without hesitation, he resumed his exquisite rhythm, leading me to reach the peak of passion in no time. Ecstasy washed over us as my essence covered his face, a testament to his newfound proficiency.

His face contorted with a mixture of satisfaction and timidity when I generously offered to pleasure him in return. “Don’t worry,” I assured him, my voice dripping with desire. “Size means nothing to me.” It was then that he nervously confessed his earlier release, embarrassingly soaking through his pants. Unfazed, I reassured him of his charm and how incredibly sexy it was for him to have been that aroused while pleasuring me.

The remaining semester seamlessly blended into a routine of instruction, passionate encounters, and shared meals. Although he often reached his climax quickly, it became inconsequential because he at all times prioritized pleasuring me first, allowing me to reciprocate with oral pleasure or engaging in passionate lovemaking. I like to believe that it was through our encounters that he gained the confidence to bring happiness to other lucky women.

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