trail in the ripples. He rubbed the sweat from his forehead, then looked at me, smiled, and said, “Want to do this naked?”
My first thought was no. After all, I’d spent most of my life inhibited because of one reason or another, usually my feelings of inadequacy—weight, looks, attitude. But this was different. Dubois was my husband, so why not? “If you are game, I am.”
Dubois crooked his finger at me. I dutifully walked over, tingles traveling all through my body. I stopped in front of him. His fingers brushed my hair off my shoulders. “You are such a beautiful woman.” A girl never tired of hearing that. “Those other men were fools…and I am extremely glad they were.”
His hands moved to the lower edge of my T-shirt. Warm fingers brushed against my skin. Butterflies swam and dove in my stomach. Dubois pulled it up slowly, inch by inch, and over my head. He smiled appreciatively. I felt some of my old fears return and my arms slid up to cover my chest. “Don’t, you are truly so beautiful,” he whispered. I let my arms drop to my sides.
He pulled me close, hands skimming my hips. I took this opportunity to unbutton the top button of his shirt. My lips lifted at the corners as I watched the vessel pulse on the side of his neck. I unbuttoned the next three buttons, allowing me to see the nice growth of hair lying on his chest. I loved a hairy man, so I slid my fingers beneath the fabric, ran them through the thick thatch. It was rough, prickly; my nipples rose in anticipation.
Dubois swallowed, and a pulse jumped in his neck. I unbuttoned the final two buttons and pulled his shirt from his pants and off his shoulders, getting my first full view of his upper body. This man was definitely a magnificent piece of manhood. I couldn’t stop myself from walking around him and looking. From his broad chest to the delineated muscles in his back…pure perfection.
Further thoughts were erased because Dubois grabbed me and began unzipping my shorts. He held my eyes as he navigated them off my hips and let them drop to the ground. Dubois’s pants were a bit trickier. He wore a belt and his pants had double buttons before reaching the zipper. His bulge didn’t make pulling the zipper down an easier task, but I persevered. Soon, we were both standing in our underwear.
“Your turn.” I obliged and turned in a half-circle before hands stopped me. Dubois unhooked my bra and removed it, his tongue sliding down my arm in pursuit. My breasts puckered in the air. My breath held in my chest, unsure, as he dropped to his knees. A finger slid into either side of my waistband and my panties were gently tugged over the rise of my cheeks and off my hips. With a slight half-twist of my body, my bush ended up inches from his face. He licked his lips. My pussy pulsed, its fragrance wafting upward to my nose. My stomach flattened as his face moved closer, closer, closer. Dubois rubbed his face in my bush, his chin tenderly bumping, teasing my clit, eliciting a moan from me.
If he keeps this up, we’re definitely going to go back on all that “Let’s take it slow” stuff we said!
He rose. I saw smears of my juice on his face. I waited. Dubois lifted me, held me over the spa, and let me down easy into the warm water. He shucked off his boxers and climbed in beside me. Yes indeed, he was gorgeous from his head to his big-ass black cock to his big-ass feet. I was warm all over. Of course, it didn’t help that the jets were shooting water directly at my pussy.
“You like?” I asked as he climbed in and submerged himself.
“Very much. I have only experienced one hot tub. It was at the hotel where I worked a few summers on the mainland.”
I nodded. “Tell me more about you. The juicy stuff, like…what exactly does husbandship training include?” The husbandship referral had definitely piqued my curiosity. I’d Googled it, but came up with nothing but references to husbandry, and that was for animals.
He gave me a cautious look. “Are you sure you want to know?”
This further stoked my curiosity. “Sure. Why not?”
He thought a second before he spoke. “It can seem…overwhelming to some.”
What the heck? “You start telling me and I’ll stop you if I can’t handle it. Deal?” I held out my pinkie finger.
“Deal.” He wrapped his pinkie around mine. I guess some customs are worldwide. “It’s very simple: I learned how to please a woman in every form and fashion.”
“Etiquette and things like what we like, what to expect?” Sounded pretty basic.
“Yes, along with the art of making love.” A smile teased at his lips.
Whoa! “The art of making…love?” In my world, it was learn as you go, not any formal training I’d ever heard about.
“Yes. Sex is more than just a meeting of bodies. A good lover has to develop skills to not only please his lover but to mix it up and continue to please her time after time.”
This I could understand, after my few experiences and hearing so many married friends complain how sex was so hot in the beginning, then it began to fizzle out…until they either divorced and found a new partner or had an affair. “Yes, but you had…classes?”
“Definitely. Everyone who enters this program has at least three years in the lovemaking arts before they are allowed to be placed for consideration as a spouse.”
Three years of sex classes? I swallowed hard. “What were some of these classes?”
Dubois showed me his pearly whites before answering, “There was The Art of Seduction, Mind Foreplay, Erogenous Zones and Pleasure Pain, Sexual Techniques and Positions, Oral Skills, Toys and Accessories, Fetishes and Role Playing.” My pussy pulsed as he listed each class.
This information definitely blew my mind! I married a man who actually had classes to teach him all the various ways to satisfy me? I mean, we are talking about sex à la carte that he could deliver without the old third degree about why I wanted to do it, who I’d done it with previously, and not judge?
Hot damn! Mandingo with Advanced Sex Ed!
Am I a lucky heffa or what? I wished I’d invested the money years earlier. I could have avoided the fumbling about with the men around here.
“You are…quiet.”
More like speechless. “I’m sorry. I’m just taking in everything you just told me.”
He nodded. “Your reaction is actually milder than I had anticipated.”
“I can imagine. You probably thought I would jump up and run screaming into the house or something, one hand speed-dialing for Simon.”
“We have heard stories like that.” He nodded in assent.
“Not me.” I spread my arms wide around the edge of the tub and leaned back. “I’m thinking this is the best thing since light bread.”
“Light bread?” Confusion twisted his features.
Dang me and my slang! “Light bread is what we call white bread. It just means it’s better than a normal everyday thing like eating white bread.”
“Oh.”
A thought popped into my head and I had to ask. “So…I’m guessing these classes were…interactive?”
“Of
