ShagWiki Stories

Hers is a collection of Stories that we have chosen from many for your viewing pleasure.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Mrs. Goodwin-Part 2

The story so far� After school I had gone to say �good-bye' to my lady PE teacher, Mrs. Joan Goodwin. She was in the coach's locker room, in her underwear. Mrs. Goodwin induced me to caresses her breasts, and had invited he to come over to her house.

I rode over to the faculty parking lot, looking for Mrs. Goodwin's car. I was very sure that she drove a Gold Duster, but I wasn't completely sure. I cruised around the parking lot, trying not to look like I was loitering. Sure enough, Mrs. Goodwin came walking into the parking lot and headed toward that Gold Duster that I had pegged as hers. She had changed into a nice pair of tan slacks and a plain white blouse. I rode my bike over to her.

"Hi, Mrs. Goodwin."

"Oh hi, Andrew. Still here?" she said with a smile. She dug into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Could you be a dear and throw this away for me?" she asked.

"Sure, Mrs. Goodwin," I said taking the paper. I got up on the pedals of my bike. "Have a nice weekend, Mrs. Goodwin."

"I'm sure I will, Andrew," she called after me as I rode away.

Once I had saw Joan drive away I un-crumpled the paper she had given me. As I suspected, it was her address and the notation �Give me ten minutes.' That was easy enough request to follow, and I figured that it would take another ten minutes or so to ride over to her house.

I gave Mrs. Goodwin the ten minutes head start that she wanted, and then rode over to her house. I was right in my estimate of how long it took. Mrs. Goodwin's house was a rather nondescript southern Californian late fifty's era tract house. It was white with yellow trim, and a nice green lawn in front. Mrs. Goodwin's car was in the driveway. I pulled my bike up in front of her car.

I had a kind of odd feeling in the pit of my stomach as I walked up to the front door. I liked Mrs. Goodwin, I was still turned on by what happened in the coach's locker room, and part of me wanted to continue, but also part of me wanted to run away. I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and rang the door bell.

Mrs. Goodwin opened the door.

"Well, hello there, Andrew," she said smiling at me. "Please come in. How nice of you to drop by."

She led me into the living room. I noticed that it was dark because the blinds were closed. She reached out her arms. I stepped up to her and we hugged for a long moment, nothing more. It felt so good just being held by Joan, feeling her breasts pressing against my chest. My penis was making itself known again. We then kissed on the lips. I was surprised when Joan tickled my lips with the tip of her tongue. I was ignorant of French kissing. With a little prompting I opened my mouth and let her tongue slip into my mouth. I was a weird feeling at first, but I sort of got used to it after a bit. I returned the favour and slipped my tongue into her mouth.

When we broke that passionate kiss. Joan patted my cheek. "Very nice, Andrew. You're learning. Now, why don't you have a seat on the sofa. Take off your shoes and stay awhile. I would offer you something, but I'm not used to having guests over to visit."

I did as I was told and sat down on the sofa.

"I'll be right back, Sweetie."

I waited for what seemed like a long time, but was really just a few minuets.

When Joan came back in, she was wearing a satiny pink dressing gown. She looked very pretty. She sat at the end of the sofa.

"Come here, Sweetie," Joan said patting the seat next to her. I scooted over to her. I was quivering in anticipation. This whole thing was seeming like a dream. If it was a dream, I wanted it to slow down so I could savor every second of it.

She leaned over to me and kissed me on the lips again. It felt wonderful, again. Automatically, I took her in my arms. Locked in our embrace, Joan gently leaned back, pulling me with her. I reached out and took her right breast in my hand as we kissed deeply and passionately. Joan worked her dressing gown open and guided my hand to her bare breasts. I caressed those two perfect breasts.

Joan slipped her tongue into my mouth again. I was expecting it this time, so I let myself enjoy the sensation. With all of the stimulation by blood was coming to a boil. I broke our French kiss. I started smothering Joan's face with kisses. My lips were every where: her eyelids, her ears, even the tip of her nose.

"Oh yes, Sweetie . . . Love me, Andrew, Sweetie, love me!" Joan murmured.

"I do love you, Joan!" I blurted out between kisses.

In her infinite wisdom she soon put her fingers to my lips. "Shush, shush, Sweetie. We have plenty of time. No need to hurry. Let's just cuddle for a bit."

Reluctantly, I stopped my kissing. I rested my head on her shoulder, and Joan started to stroke my hair, after she closed her dressing gown.

"That's it, Sweetie, just let me hold you."

"You know, Andrew, dear," Joan whisper in my ear after a few moments of silence, "I've always found you attractive, since that first day in class."

"I've always liked you, too, Joan."

"I've known that too."

We just held onto each other for a while. To continue my cooking metaphor, I had calmed down to a gentle simmer, and I guess that Joan could tell that it was time to turn the heat back up a bit.

"Andrew," she said with a mock seriousness in her voice, "You have been neglecting someone."

I gave her a baffled look.

She opened her gown to expose her left breast. I now knew what she was talking about. Back in the locker room I only had the chance to kiss her right breast, and the way we had been reclining on the sofa, it was my left hand that was free to do the feeling, so I was more inclined to reach out for her right breast. I knew what do.

As before I started kissing the base of her breast and slowly worked my way towards the nipple.

"Sweetie, you just know how to please me."

She took my left hand and guided it to her right breast. "We don't want anyone to feel left out, dear." Joan then murmured and stroked my hair. "Oh yes, Sweetie, suckle my tittie!"

I decided to be a little bolder and I licked the sweet bud of her nipple. This seemed to hit a nerve.

"Oh yes, Sweetie, oh yes." Joan moaned softly. "Nibble on it, Sweetie."

I felt a little odd at this request, but I gently took her nipple between my teeth. I did not want to hurt her.

"That's ... yes ... that's perfect, darling, Sweetie, Andrew, lover, oh yes!"

With our any prompting I changed over to her right breast, and started kissing, licking and sucking on that nipple.

After a several minutes of that Joan stopped me again.

"You know, Andrew," she said taking my head in both hands, "You have me at a disadvantage: you have too many clothes on. Let's start by taking your shirt off."

I obeyed and eased my OP polo shirt over my head and off. This was just the opening that Joan was waiting for. She kissed me on the right nipple. I almost jumped with the sensation. I had never thought of getting pleasure from my nipples, but they way Joan kissed them, changed my mind.

"Oh, Joan," I murmured, "That feels wonderful!" It was my turn to stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head. Her hair was very soft and fine. It felt good under my fingers.

Between kisses she asked: "Did you ever notice that when I assigned colors to the teams, I always had your team change to red shirts? I liked looking at your chest." She was referring to the individual squad teams in PE class. The boys wore reversible T-shirts: grey on one side, red on the other. To tell teams apart one team of the boys would change from grey side out to red side out, or go with out shirts; and the girls, much as the boys would have liked to see them change shirts; wore these stupid looking red tie-on bibs. "I always liked it when you chose to go �skins.'"

When Joan had finished kissing and caressing my chest, she leaned back in the corner of the sofa. She opened her dressing gown completely. She was wearing a very pretty pair of briefs. They had a lace waistband, and panels of lace that framed her mound. Much as I liked looking at her breasts, I could not take my eyes off of her pubes. My blood was starting to boil again.

"Would you like to kiss me down there?" Joan asked, noting my interest.

"Yes," I whispered huskily.

"Then come here, Sweetie."

There was something that I had to take of first: I took off my jeans and socks, so I was just wearing my briefs. My penis was straining at the front. There was even a little wet spot where I had leaked a little in my excitement. Joan smiled as I stripped off my pants. She reached over and patted the prominence in the front of my underwear.

"Very nice, very nice indeed!" she complemented me. "I'll attend to you later."

I leaned over to her and kissed her full on the lips. Taking my time had worked well before, so I figured to continue with a winning strategy. I kissed Joan's lips for a few seconds, then I moved to her cheeks, then down her neck, down her chest with a slight detour to kiss her under the right breast.

Joan, who had been breathing heavily, jerked and giggled. "That tickles!"

I continued by kissing down her beautiful body. Joan was about fifty years old, so her tummy was a little soft, but I didn't care. On an impulse I rubbed my nose against her navel.

I slipped myself off of the sofa and knelt between Joan's legs. By now I had reach the waistband of her undies. I didn't take them off, I kept kissing her, through the smooth material of her panty. I eased my hands under her and held her bottom. I moved my lips closer and closer to her womanhood.

I had heard the locker room jokes about women's pussies smelling like dead fish or rotten cheese. Joan had a very delicate scent, with just a hint of muskiness to it. I fell in love with the aroma of women's pussies at that moment, although, never did I find one that had as sweet a perfume as Joan Goodwin's. (Yes, over the years I've come across women who's pubic hair was as rough as steel wool, who's vaginal juices were as thick as used motor oil, and who did smell like rotten cheese.)

When my lips first touched soaking crotch of Joan's panties, my penis felt like it wanted to burst. I new that I would ejaculate in an instant if I so much as touched it. I kissed up and down the length of her vulva. I then kissed in the crease where her legs joined her torso. There were wisps of fine public hair sticking out of her panty. I worked my tongue inside of her undies for my first real taste of heaven. It's hard to describe the taste, but Joan was light, thin and sweet.

Joan was moaning and stroking my hair again. I was grunting and groaning in pure ecstacy.

"Oh Sweetie, take them off! Take them off, you tease!" Joan moaned.

In response I started easing her panties off. I stopped kissing her pussy, and as each little bit of skin was exposed, I kissed it.

I was slightly surprised. This was in the early days of �The Penthouse Revolution' when men's magazines first started showing the pubic hair of their models. From the few times I had seen those types of magazines I knew that women had thick amounts of public hair on their pussies. As I've mentioned, Mrs. Goodwin was in her fifties, so her's was a little sparse, but long and fine textured. It felt good against my lips as I kissed across and down her mound of Venus.

When I came to between her legs I paused to take my first good look at a woman's genitals. Here the information from Sex Ed Class was actually of some use. I did know the technical names of the various parts of a woman's anatomy. Because of her age, a bit of Joan's labia minora were peeking out, in what I would latter learn to a call a �butterfly.' I thought it was a very beautiful sight. Again I kissed up and down the length of her womanhood. The tastes and scents were driving me crazy. The pot was about to boil over, to continue my metaphor.

"Use your tongue, Sweetie," Joan moaned. "Lick me, taste me, put yout tongue in me, Sweetie."

I did as I was told. The textures of skin and fine hair, combined with the ambrosia taste of Joan, were heaven on Earth for me. I didn't want to stop, and from Joan's moans and murmured endearments, she didn't want me to stop either. I parted her labia with the tip of my tongue. I licked deeper and deeper into the folds of her womanhood. The tip of my tongue found the sweet bud of her clitoris, and I caressed it lightly. I was totally surprised by the reaction.

Joan groaned, moaned, arched her back, and clamped my head between her legs. She called out my name, and with an overarching "Oh Sweetie!" she collapsed.

I sat back on my heels. In my innocence I thought, for a brief moment only, that Joan might have had a heart attack. I was reassured when she started breathing deeply. She looked so beautiful laying there naked except for her dressing gown, which was wide open.

"Oh Andrew, that was wonderful!" she said smiling at me. "You know what I want."

I got up and sat back down on the sofa and closed my eyes. I may not have had an orgasm, but I was emotionally fulfilled. I had taken great pleasure in giving Joan her pleasure. I opened my eyes when I felt Joan move off of the sofa. She was positioning herself in front me, kneeling on the floor.

"Turnabout is fair play, Sweetie."

Joan leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I reached out for her breasts. Gently she pushed my hands away.

"Just lean back and enjoy, Sweetie. Let me do all the work now."

She rubbed my chest and nipples as she kissed me tenderly on the face. As I had done for her, she worked her way down my torso. I did as I was told and leaned back. At least until she got to the lower edge of my ribs. She hit just the right spot, and it was my turn to jump from being tickled.

"Oh, you like that?" Joan asked mischievously. "How about this?" she asked as she tickled the other side of my ribs with her fingers. I convulsed with laughter.

She smiled at me yet again. "I'm sorry, Sweetie, I just couldn't resist. Lay back again. I'll be good, I promise."

Joan resumed her kissing, studiously avoiding my ribs. When she got to my briefs she started easing the waistband down. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding. Joan was about to see my penis! No woman, except mom years ago, had seen my privates. I was struck with a sudden anxiety about my size, but I was enjoying myself too much to worry. I wanted Joan to see me.

Joan gently took my penis with one hand and pulled my briefs our of the way. My fears were allayed by what she said next.

"Beautiful! Just like I've imagined, Sweetie."

Of course I had masturbated, and enjoyed it very much. Now, with someone else, a beautiful woman, handling my manhood it felt better than it every had when I did it. Gently, knowingly, Joan softly pumped her hand up and down the length of my shaft. I was in heaven again. I closed my eyes to enjoy the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

I was startled when I felt something warm and wet on my penis. I opened my eyes. Joan had taken my erect penis in her mouth and was bobbing her head up and down while she fondled my testicles. I was a wonderful sensation, but I didn't want it.

"No, Mrs. Goodwin, no," I pleaded, "I don't want to cum in your mouth."

Joan removed her mouth from my organ. "I won't let you, Sweetie. When that happens I gag, and it ruins the mood." She resumed gently masturbating me. "Besides, I want you to cum in only one place." She gave me another mischievous look. "And that place is not here." She took my briefs off the rest of the way, and then stood up.

She held out her hand to me to help me off the couch into a hug. Our naked, or almost, bodies touched. The sheer pleasure of feeling her soft, warm flesh against mine was magnificent. Her breasts were pressed up against my chest, and my penis was squeezed against her leg. We kissed again, my hands scrambling for her breasts and bottom, while Joan took hold of my penis again. I struggled with alternating hands to slip her dressing gown off her shoulders. Shortly it joined the rest of our clothes on the living room floor. My manly instincts took hold, and I reached my hand between her legs to touch her pussy.

"Yes, Sweetie, that feels so good." Joan whispered in my ear as I slipped my finger between her labia. I rubbed around until I found her clitoris. She reach a small orgasm quickly. I was amazed at how sensitive she was.

Joan backed out of my hug.

"Come with me, Sweetie," she beckoned.

I followed her shapley bottom down the hall and into her bedroom. It was obvious even to my inexperience eyes that this was a woman's bedroom: nice curtains, soft carpet, various feminine type knickknacks on the dresser and such. What I really noticed was that the bed had been turned down so it was open and inviting.

Joan laid down, and adjusted the pillows. "Come here, Andrew, lay next to me so we can cuddle some more." I took my place next to her and we eased into each other's arms. Our lips met, and our hands roved.

I could not resist the allure of Joan's breasts, so I wiggled down to kiss and fondle them while Joan played with my erect penis.

"Andrew, Sweetie," she whispered, "Are you ready?"

"Oh, yes, Joan, I'm ready." My words belied my nervousness. The Sex Education unit that was part of the overall heath class was useless at this time. I knew all about the difference between myosis and mitosis; the process of menstruation and a woman's fertility cycle; and how the sperm and the ovum would come together to produce a zygote; but of the actual way bringing the two together was not covered in the course material. There were still things one had to learn hanging around on grubby street corners, or the boy's locker room.

We rolled around so I was laying on top of Joan. She spread her legs and my penis touched her pussy. It was a marvelous and exciting feeling. I started to rub against her. Joan bent her knees and reached around and gently guided my expectant member into her vagina.

The sensation of entering a woman for the first time was, and is, a event really beyond the scope of words. It was warm, wet, velvety, and a thousand other wonderful words. I knew what to do, and I started thrusting. Ever the wise woman that she is, Joan wrapped her legs around my bottom to keep me from falling out. Being hyper-simulated I lasted only a minute or so before I had the most powerful orgasm of my young life. I groaned loudly and collapsed on Joan.

I was emotionally on edge. In the space of a Friday afternoon, I had been given my first adult kiss, felt my first women's breasts, seen my first naked woman, tasted my first pussy, and now and my first of sexual intercourse. My breath was coming in heaving gasps and my heart was pounding. Then the sound of Joan softly crying entered into my world. That pushed me over the edge, and tears welled up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry if I did it wrong, Mrs. Goodwin," I blubbered. "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

Joan clutched me to her breast. She stroked my hair as we rolled back and forth.

"Oh no, Sweetie, no, no, no, you were wonderful. It's just that it's been almost seven years since I've had sex with a man. That's why I'm teary." She kissed me on the cheek. "Oh, Andrew, you did more than that, Sweetie, you made love to me."

"I came too fast." I whispered sadly.

"Hush, Sweetie, I knew that you would. It wasn't a disappointment." I could tell my the change in the sound of her voice that her tears were finished. "It's more than just getting inside a woman. It's all the wonderful things we did before. Now we have the wonderful things that come after." She paused. " Besides, we still have more time. We'll have another chance."

"You mean it?" I asked.

"Of course I do, Sweetie. I'm trusting in the stamina of teenage boys." She pulled the top sheet over us. "Now why we don't just lay here and enjoy each other."

So we lay next to each other, gently caressing each other, and softly kissing. Nothing strenuous or overly stimulating, just enough to keep the pot simmering.

"Tell me Andrew, do you masturbate?"

"Yes."

"Who do you think about?"

"Some of the girls," I said evasively.

"Like whom?" Joan asked teasingly.

"Well...Carla," I said naming one of the girls on my squad in PE.

"She is a nice enough girl. I don't think she realizes what a teaser she is with her knickers always showing." Joan observed. "Any one else? Like Terry?" She said. "Her mother should buy her a stronger brassier."

All the guys were horny for Terry. She was very buxom, and single handedly made jumping jacks a spectator sport. "Yeah, I've thought of her, too."

"What about me?"

I swallowed. "Yes," I admitted softly.

Joan laughed and have me a big squeeze. "I had a hunch that you had, Sweetie."

"I'll never think of anyone else!" I promised emphatically.

Joan laughed again. "You dear boy." She kissed me full on the lips again. "If you do ever think of someone else, don't tell me." With that she picked up the pace of our caressing and fondling.

I did not need much to arouse me again, and I got that arousal from caressing Joan's pussy. She was still wet from both of us, so I was able to slip my right middle finger into her vagina easily.

"Oh, Sweetie, yes, that feels wonderful." Joan said huskily. He breathing then became rapid and shallow. "Oh, oh, yes, Sweetie, lover, oh, don't stop, oh, oh, oh." She moaned, her words tumbling out faster and faster. She clutched me tightly and buried her head against my shoulder to muffle a scream of pure pleasure.

I was taken aback by the intensity of Joan's orgasm.

"Sweetie, you do that so very well." Joan said from my shoulder. "Now let's do something different." She rolled me on to my back. "You see, Sweetie, the woman can be in charge sometimes," she told me playfully.

Joan draped her left leg over my legs. She rubbed my chest and kissed my face and nipples while she gently fondled my penis. I loved the sensations of her lips on by nipples and her hand on my penis. When Joan determined that we were ready again she knelt over me and slowly lowered herself on to my waiting penis.

For the second time that afternoon, I felt the extraordinarily wonderful sensation of being in a warm and loving woman. Joan slowly bobbed up and down.

"You see, Sweetie, this way the woman can control the pace to her liking."

What was to my liking was the fact that her breasts were dangling in front of my eyes. I took hold of those lovely orbs and fondled and caressed them to my heats content. I was able to take the nipples in my mouth as well.

"Oh yes, Sweetie, that is so nice. Yes ... yes." She murmured in pleasure.

As our climaxes approached Joan picked up the pace. I answered by thrusting with my pelvis to meet her strokes.

I moaned by pleasure, and with a cry of "Oh, Joan!" I ejaculated deep inside her womanhood.

The sensation of my semen flooding her was enough to push Joan over the edge of her orgasm. She gave and inarticulate yell of ecstasy and the she collapsed into my waiting arms.

We lay quietly in each others arms for several moments enjoying the feeling of each other's warmth, and not wanting it to ever end. Regrettably, things had to move on.

"Oh Sweetie, Andrew," Joan whispered, "You were magnificent. It's been so long since I'll felt this way. Thank you, Andrew."

"Thank you, Mrs. Goodwin." I wanted to say �I love you, Joan,' but I could not get the words out.

"Much I we might want to keep going, Sweetie, we have to stop." She smiled at me. "We've made a mess of the living room and my bed. We need to tidy up before Jack comes home."

The mention of her husband made me feel sick to my stomach. I had just cuckolded Mr. Goodwin. My upbringing told me that it was a sinful thing to do. Joan noticed the queasy look on my face. She held me tightly.

"I know, Sweetie," she said softly and slowly, "It may not be right, but you are very special to me, Andrew. And Jack has given up his rights to me. I've been lonely for a man's touch."

This time I was able to get the words out. "I love you, Joan."

"I love you too, Andrew, my dearest, my Sweetie." We hugged tightly again. "Now come on, we've got work to do!"

Joan directed me to have a quick wash in her bathroom while she stripped the sheets of the bed. Joan brought my clothes to me. I was a little disappointed that while I was washing up she had gotten dressed again.

Things were all quiet when Mr. Goodwin came home from work. A load of laundry was in the washer, and I was sitting chastely with Mrs. Goodwin on the sofa, looking at scrapbooks from when she ran track at university.

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