A Lot To Learn

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A number of decades ago, I was an exchange student in a South American country. My foster family was large, well-to-do, and lived in a comfortable home with an ample staff of servants. I quickly learned the double standard in the way upper and lower class women were treated. No one in my group seemed to have a girl friend, it was more like a mixed group of friends without close attachments. The girls of our class were clearly off limits, sexually.



My foster brother explained the possibilities: there was plenty of sex available with lower stratum girls. In fact, he got caught having sex with one of the household servants by Mona, who was senior among the help, had charge of the younger children and a lot of authority otherwise. Mona apparently convinced the parents that it wasn't the servant girl's fault, so rather than getting fired, she was transferred to the household of a relative. My brother wasn't concerned, he said he just went over there when he wanted sex. Being rather timid about such things, I had no contact with girls of either class. I relied on hand jobs, got plenty of them from myself.



It happened that one of the daughters of the foster family, Carmella, was an exchange student in the US for my first six months in South America. She was just about a year older than me, and when she returned, we hit it off well as friends, per the local custom. She had a pretty face, ample breasts and wide hips. If she kept all that and was four inches taller, she would have been a stunner. That all seemed to me to be an academic observation.



Until one evening. Carmella and I were off together at the edge of the property. 'You know how different things are here between boys and girls.' I nodded. 'Well, when I was in the US, I saw my American sister jacking off her boyfriend.'



Huh? She didn't seem like the type who was about to deliver a sermon on the depravity of American teenagers. She continued, 'I asked her about it and she offered to teach me how to give him a hand job. I liked doing it and the boys enjoyed me jacking them off. You know.' Well, of course I knew, but not from personal experience as she seemed to assume.



'Of course, I could never do that to the boys here. My reputation would be ruined.' 'Of course.' 'But I miss doing it, and'?



'Well, you understand both cultures, and I thought I could give you hand jobs. You know how things are and wouldn't tell anyone.' She was right about that. Any whisper of such a thing would certainly get back to the family and I would be out of there, on the way to another family or home. And how would I explain that?



But how in the world would we do that? As I said, individual guys and girls just never had time alone together. Except brother and sister. She had it figured out. 'Meet me after lunch tomorrow at the far end of the veranda.'



I understood the timing. In those days, what we call a siesta was a reality. The adults and small children and the servants all rested or slept for a couple of hours in the early afternoon. Very little activity anywhere. But....



In any case, there I stood at the end of the long porch, next to the high concrete wall that surrounded the house, nervous as hell. The louvered door from the kitchen swung open, and Carmella padded out, barefoot, wearing a long, loose-fitting white robe. She took my hand and led me into the space between the house and the wall. I realized that she intended to go through with this. My stomach was so jumpy that I seriously doubted I could get a hard on. What an embarrassment that was going to be.



Carmella positioned me against the house. She shrugged the robe off her shoulders and tied it around her waist, exposing what turned out to be luscious breasts. 'The boys at my school liked to see my tits when I jacked them off.' She smiled brightly.



Indeed. My dick instantly forgot how nervous I was. My stomach was still jumpy, but as Carmella lowered my pants and briefs, I was relieved to be fully hard. With no hesitation she started stroking my cock. With no hesitation I started coming after about ten strokes, splattering the surrounding wall, two feet away.



Carmella grinned. 'Looks like it's been a while since a girl jacked you off!' Correct. 'That's all right. The boys liked to play with my tits while they got hard again.' And so did I.



And so did she. Her eyes closed and her breathing came faster. Suddenly, Mr. Timid got courageous. I leaned in and took a nipple into my mouth. 'No..not that' but she pulled my head toward her breast. Just as suddenly, she eased my head away. 'I, I can't do that.' Crap. I already blew a great thing.



'I'm sorry, I just...'



She stopped me with a smile. 'It's OK. Besides, you're hard again. Let's get started.' This time I was determined and able to prolong the pleasure. She varied her pressure and rhythm, sometimes stroking gently sometimes pulling almost violently. The orgasm was so sweet, unlike any I had given myself.



As my knees regained some strength, Carmella pulled her robe over her shoulders, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, swiftly disappeared around the corner and I heard the kitchen door gently close. I sat for a long time on the veranda, savoring the last twenty minutes.



It turned out not to be a regular or planned thing. Occasionally, on my frequent siesta-time trips to the veranda, my heart would jump when I saw the kitchen door open and the white robe emerge. One day about a month before the end of my stay, I walked down the veranda, my cock already hard, wanting that release very badly. As I approached the end of the porch, I heard quiet sounds coming from the narrow passage between the house and wall.



I carefully looked around the corner. There was Carmella in my accustomed place, leaning back against the house. This time her robe was around her ankles. And there, head buried in Carmella's tits, was Mona. As she hungrily sucked, her hand was a blur at the girl's crotch, masturbating her vigorously. Carmella's head moved around, her eyes half closed. I thought I might have an unassisted orgasm.



Suddenly, Carmella's eyes met mine, focused in recognition. My familiar jumpy stomach immediately returned. After no more than a couple of seconds, Carmella's eyes glazed over and her body slid downward in a shuddering orgasm. Mona's mouth released her tit and sucked in fresh air. Somehow my better judgment tore me away from that thrilling scene.



I headed for the one private place in the house: the shower. It never had heated water, but the proverbial cold shower had none of its usual effect. I jacked off to two rapid orgasms under that frigid water, my dick going only slightly soft between them. I toweled off, very satisfied and very confused.



For the next several days, Carmella acted like nothing had happened, like nothing had ever happened between us. A few nights later, she and I were in a group at beach club where there was a party. About mid-evening she quietly said, 'Meet me on the beach under the pier. Ten minutes.'



I saw her, a shadow crossing the sand in the darkness. As I finally saw her face, I hadn't an idea in the world what this was about. She said nothing. Unzipped my pants, pulled my dick out and started jacking. Just as I relaxed and began to enjoy it, she spoke.



'I have to explain what you saw. Mona has been giving me orgasms since I was fourteen. She says it will keep me from being tempted to let a boy do anything to me. She always sucks my tits. That's why I had to stop you from sucking me that first time. It felt so good, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop there.'



With my dick being jacked, all this seemed the most reasonable, logical explanation possible. Carmella then went on to mention several other girls in our group of friends. She said they all had maids who gave them orgasms for the same reason. Picturing these girls being masturbated by women was way too much for me. I ejaculated hard. I could hear the cum splatting on the sand.



As Carmella gently put my cock in my pants, I suddenly got that dangerous courage again. I said, 'I know how guys get orgasms. Now I know how girls get orgasms. But Mona isn't married, who gives her orgasms?' Smart aleck question.



Carmella was walking back to the club. She turned her head a little and said, 'Oh, Daddy does that for her.' She disappeared into the darkness. Boy did I have a lot to learn.

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