with her. “He’s a nice-looking guy, as I remember,” she said, hedging. “How old is he now?”
“He’s twenty-four. Tell me what you think of him as a person.”
“I hardly spent any time with him,” Ronnie said. “But he was charming, seemed to know the right thing to say but I guess he seemed a bit distant, a bit difficult to get to know.”
“He’s shy with women because he’s had a few bad experiences. And now he’s much worse. He was engaged, you know.”
“No,” Ronnie said. “I didn’t know. You said was?”
“I did. The bitch did a number on him. I think she was more interested in my money than in Tim. Anyway, about a month ago, when he seemed to be losing interest, she lost her temper at our dinner table one evening. There were several other couples, their friends and ours, and Clarisse had been drinking. Something snapped, I’ve no idea what. But whatever caused it she read him out and, among other things, told him he was a lousy lover. I think her exact phrasing was that he couldn’t give a nymphomaniac an orgasm.”
“Oh shit,” Jack said. “He must have been devastated.”
“He was. Fortunately Tim and I have an honest relationship and we’ve talked at length since then. He doesn’t want anything to do with Clarisse, but he admits that she might have a point about his sexual prowess. He told me that he feels inadequate and awkward as a lover. I told him that good sex takes two and that maybe he and Clarisse just weren’t compatible, but he’s really down on himself. We talked about finding a prostitute to, you know, teach him about women and sex, but he didn’t want anything like that. Too impersonal, too clinical.”
“Am I starting to see a plan here?” Ronnie asked.
“I hope so,” TJ said. “I know and trust both of you and I need someone to teach Tim about women. Ronnie?”
“I’m flattered and I’d like to help. But I won’t do anything without his knowledge,” Ronnie said.
“Of course not.” He looked from Ronnie to Jack. “If you two agree, I’ll talk to him. I mentioned you recently and he remembers meeting you last summer. As a matter of fact, I think he was impressed, said you were a knockout, as I recall. I don’t know whether that’s the good news or the bad.”
“I think it would be wonderful for Tim,” Jack said, his charming grin revealing even, white teeth. “Ronnie’s just the right woman to teach a young man about love and sex. She’s terrific.” He squeezed his wife’s hand.
“So you’re both willing?” TJ said.
“If Tim wants to, I’m certainly willing,” Ronnie said.
Later that night, Ronnie and Jack lay in bed, naked, propped up on several pillows. “That’s quite an assignment,” Jack said, “teaching a young man about sex.”
“I know,” Ronnie said. “It’s a bit daunting.”
“Nonsense,” Jack said. He tangled his fingers in Ronnie’s hair. “Any man who looks at your full lips will want to kiss you.” He pressed his lips against hers. “He’ll want to use his tongue to play with yours.” He opened her mouth with his tongue and stroked the inside. “He’ll want to touch your face.” He ran the pads of his fingers over Ronnie’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. “And close your eyes with his lips.” He kissed her eyelids.
“Maybe you should teach him,” Ronnie said. “You do things so well.”
As his hands made her skin burn everywhere they touched, Jack said, his voice hoarse, “Will you tell me every detail? Will you demonstrate to me everything you taught him?” His breathing was rough as his hands found her wet center.
“I may not share exactly what we do because that seems very private. But I’ll make up something delicious,” Ronnie said, wrapping her legs around her husband’s waist. “But for right now, just fuck me good.”
They were both so hot that their mating was frantic, tangling their bodies in sheets and pillows. He pounded into her hard and screamed when he came. Her orgasm wasn’t far behind.
Tim called Ronnie about a week later. “My dad told me about your conversation,” he said without preamble. “I’m really embarrassed about all this.”
“I’m a little uncomfortable too, Tim, but I gather that this type of thing is common in Europe. The older woman educating the younger man.”
Tim’s hollow laugh echoed through the phone. “That doesn’t help and anyway, you’re not that much older.”
Ronnie laughed. “It doesn’t help me either, but I’d love to spend time with you, if you’d like. We could talk and do whatever you want, nothing more.”
Ronnie heard Tim take a deep breath. “I think I would.” He paused. “Maybe we could have dinner at that place Dad took you to. Like next Tuesday evening?”
Ronnie had been dreading a long dinner during which she and Tim would have to make pleasant conversation. It sounded awful. “You know, let’s pass on dinner,” Ronnie suggested. “Let me meet you at your apartment at about eight. We can talk and see what happens from there.”
“I could pick you up.” Ronnie could hear the hesitancy in his voice.
“I’d prefer to meet you, if that’s okay.” No long drive with awkward silences.
“Sure. Ronnie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m terrified and mortified.”
“Don’t be. We’ll only do what makes both of us comfortable. Okay?”
“I’ll see you Tuesday.” Tim gave Ronnie directions to his apartment.
“Okay. I’ll see you at eight o’clock. And Tim, wear those tight, over-washed jeans you were wearing that evening last summer. I remember how good they looked on you.”
“Yeah,” Tim said, his voice a bit lighter. “Sure. I will.” He hung up.
Ronnie drove to the apartment complex the following Tuesday and grabbed a heavy camel wool coat from the backseat. She wore a deep red, button front, man-tailored shirt and jeans, with her bare feet stuffed into soft leather loafers. She had on almost no makeup and had pulled her hair into a ponytail. Although she was in her early thirties she looked younger and less threatening. Only her lingerie was intended to tantalize, a dark red demi-bra and matching thong-style panties.
Her palms sweaty, Ronnie parked her car, found her way to Tim’s apartment, and rang the bell. It took a moment before she heard footsteps.
“Hi,” Tim said as he opened the door. Ronnie was surprised at how much he had changed in the few months since she had last seen him. Although he had been twenty-three that evening on the boat, he had still had some of the gawky teenaged angles and hollows to his body. No more.
“You’ve grown up,” Ronnie said as she looked him over slowly and appraisingly, enjoying the way his body now filled out the navy blue knit shirt he wore. His shoulders were wide and his hips narrow. Lord she loved muscular shoulders and
