She taught me more than music
When I was 13 my parents were anxious for me to take piano lessons and were told of a lady we shall call Mrs. Wilson living nearby who gave introductory lessons in her own home. Mrs. Wilson was in her late 40s and lived alone, at least I never saw a Mr. Wilson or anyone else while visiting. She was always nice to me and our afternoon lessons usually went well over time, possibly because she did not want a lot of pupils and I was keen to learn. My parents could hear my progress at home and were pleased with her attention to me.
By that age I had been masturbating for about 6 months but did not understand sex very well; my main turnon was peeping up a woman's skirt and seeing her panties, masturbating then and there if she did not know I was looking, or later if she moved away. I did not have any sisters, brothers or girlfriends; my parents were very strict and sex was never mentioned at home. Even my mother never spoke to me about it, if she even realized I was doing it. I was a very shy boy and couldn't discuss these naughty feelings with anyone else as I thought they'd laugh at me or get me into trouble.
One afternoon Mrs. Wilson had given me some music theory test papers to fill in and I was sitting in a comfortable old armchair in her lounge while she sat almost directly opposite reading the newspaper, wearing a dress that just covered her knees but exposed her stockinged legs. She then said 'I hope you don't mind if I close my eyes for a little while; let me know when you've finished.' As she slumped in the warm afternoon sun, the gap between her thighs widened and I found myself able to see a lot more than I had ever done before, staring furtively while pretending to write. Soon I discovered she was wearing shiny white panties. The tingling pressure of my rising penis made it difficult to concentrate on the tests. I pressed my knees together hoping she would continue sitting like this long enough for me to squirt in my pants while looking at hers.
I rocked back and forth rubbing my penis between my legs, staring uncontrollably at my music teacher's panties and the faintly visible dark bush behind them. I suddenly felt the familiar rush of warm fluid and felt myself jerking so hard my chair began to creak. Mrs. Wilson woke up and instantly realized what had happened. She said 'I was asleep and you were looking up my skirt, weren't you?'
I froze but couldn't deny that. 'Never mind', she said, 'I shouldn't have given you such a view.' She wasn't too pleased. 'Do you often do that? I mean, peep up ladies' dresses?' She had brought her knees together and I couldn't see her panties now.
I cringed in embarrassment and tried to apologize. When she saw how sorry I was she seemed more sympathetic. 'Don't worry, I guess it's natural for boys to feel that way. Doesn't your mother talk to you about these things?'
Slowly it came out that sex was never mentioned at home. Mrs Wilson seemed surprised. 'I wouldn't have thought that', she eventually said,'but all families are different. Stand up.'
I stood up and she noticed the stain on my trousers. 'What's your mother going to say about that?' 'I don't know', I replied. 'Well, maybe we'd better clean you up before you go home. Take your pants off and I'll clean them for you.' She was smiling slightly now.
I sheepishly pulled down my trousers but she let me keep my underpants on, retaining the last of my dignity. I followed Mrs. Wilson to her laundry where she cleaned the area with a moist sponge and then began ironing it gently to dry it. While she did so, we chatted a little more and she even asked me if I had a girlfriend or had ever seen a woman naked before. I hadn't done either. In fact, her presence and the memory of what I had seen created a new, all-too-familiar bulge in my underpants. Since I was facing Mrs. Wilson across the ironing board, she noticed it straight away. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that,' she said smiling. 'You certainly are a horny young man.'
I didn't know whether she was unconsciously encouraging me or not, but I began to have a strong erection right in front of her. She finished ironing, then unexpectedly came over to me, put an arm around my shoulder and said 'I'd like to see what it looks like. Do you mind?' and before I could answer, she pulled down my briefs and looked at my penis which now stuck out horizontally.
'Do you want to come again?'
I was shocked by the direction of our conversation but felt wildly excited to be showing myself to her in this way. She could see I was half way to another orgasm, so she said 'Okay. come with me, honey.' She had never called me honey before. She took me to her bedroom, where I had never been before, and said quickly 'Now take everything off.' I sensed a note of urgency in her voice.
While I got naked, still unable to believe this was really happening, Mrs. Wilson matter-of-factly took off her outer clothes, hanging them up neatly in her wardrobe until she stood in her bra, pants, suspender belt and stockings. She undid her bra and the sight of her big white breasts made my penis throb. 'Do you like my breasts?' she asked with a naughty smile. 'Come and kiss them if you like.'
I came close enough to smell her body and her perfume and she hugged me to her, then pressed my head down to her nipples. As I took one in my mouth I felt her hand close around my penis, caressing it. My penis jerked spontaneously for what seemed like an eternity while the milky fluid squirted out. She rocked me gently while the last waves subsided, then said so tenderly 'Feeling better now, dear?'
When I opened my eyes and looked down I saw large splashes had landed on her belly and panties. Mrs. Wilson only had one arm around me now; I noticed her other hand was in her panties, rubbing herself. She said 'I'd better take these off and clean up - we don't want any accidents, do we?' I didn't understand what she meant at the time but nodded. She said 'I'm going to reward you with a good look.'
She lay back on the bed, pulled off her panties and spread her legs, inviting me to look but not touch. Although she was slightly plump, I was awestruck at seeing her like this. Her intimate skin was red glistening wet. Mrs. Wilson looked up at the ceiling, closed her eyes and began rubbing a little lump at the front of her opening. Her body was heaving on the bed and at first I thought she was having a fit, but then she said 'Oooh, excuse me. I can't help myself.' While I watched in fascination she rubbed her clit circularly hand while rapidly thrusting two fingers of the other hand in and out of her entrance, hiding nothing from me. I began to touch myself again. Suddenly she gave a series of gasps and squeezed her thighs around her fingers pushed and held deep inside her. Now she was the one feeling sheepish. 'Oh that was so good. I do hope you didn't mind.' How could I?! 'Just promise me you won't breathe a word about this to your parents.' I promised.
I got dressed and Mrs. Wilson kissed me goodbye in her nightie. Later she admitted masturbating again thinking about us. I certainly did the same that night and many more times. It remains one of the most intense sexual experiences I ever had and I often remember her when I sit down at the piano.