Student of Love

by AmorousTwo

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, True Story, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Squirting, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: After a failed marriage, a sensitive man focuses on self-improvement and the search for Ms. Right. A good deed leads him to find his soul mate. A passionate rendezvous seals their love.

© 2002 by J and S

Writing this story was truly a labor of love. Although classified as Romantic Fiction, the story is closely based on true-life experiences of a loving couple.

My ex-wife was certainly never shy about pointing out other people's faults, real or imagined. She said my income was inadequate to support the lifestyle she deserved. I guess not, with her taste in luxury cars, cruises, and high fashion. But what really hurt was her complaint that I was a lousy lover, lacking in the skills that assure a woman's sexual satisfaction. On that point she was more right than I cared to admit.

I discovered she was having a torrid affair with a philandering doctor (her gynecologist, of course) and our marriage hit rock bottom. Their flagrant liaison jolted me into filing for a divorce, which was already looming on the horizon anyway. Fortunately, we had no children to get hurt in the crossfire, as is often the case. I would have sued her lover for alienation of affection but actually felt sorry for the guy because he definitely got the worst of the deal. He must have been enamored with her tight pussy.

For a while I buried myself in my work, but I knew there was something missing in my life. Actually, it had been that way long before the divorce, but an empty house just made me realize it more. I needed someone to love, to share my hopes, my dreams, my life. But I doubted my own judgment after making such a mistake. And it was painfully obvious that I had to improve my interpersonal and sexual skills in order to succeed in another relationship. So I resolved to do whatever it took to become a skillful, caring lover.

My first step was to educate myself on what makes women tick. John Gray's book "Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus" was where I began, followed by "Mars and Venus in the Bedroom." Wanting to know much more, I took Sinclair's free "Sexual Intimacy Quotient" test. To my surprise, the results indicated I wasn't so inhibited after all, but just needed more love skills. Then I ordered all their "Better Sex" videos, devouring them in just a single weekend. Even more steamy videos and an assortment of sex toys followed. Two male performance supplements, Avena Sativa and L-Arginine, substantially boosted my libido.

I was chock full of information on women, what they really wanted in a man, and how to be a good lover. There was just one "little" woman! After being out of circulation for such a long time, finding "Ms. Right" would not be easy. Just the thought of the difficult search ahead gave me butterflies.

The bar and club scene didn't appeal to me but I'd kept my membership in the health club, worked out regularly to stay in shape, and felt that might be a good place to start. The scenery was great -- lots of tight butts, surgically enhanced breasts, and firm, tanned legs. But most of the women seemed to be early twenties and swarmed over by guys fifteen years younger than I. It made me realize one more hurdle remained, and that was to re-build my self-confidence.

In the meantime, my consulting work was doing really well. I was traveling all over the Southeast and regularly got to Charlotte, where there was a great restaurant I enjoyed a lot called "The Simple Gourmet." After long days on the road, I've always figured there was no reason to skimp on food and lodging. A fine meal and a restful night help you bounce back. My days start very early and I usually have dinner before six p.m., so I can get in a good workout before bed.

The Simple Gourmet is where I got to know Sandi. Our first meeting was actually at a Red Cross Blood Center a few hours after the terrorist attack on New York and Washington. Like many others that terrible day we were trying to help any way we could. She was in line ahead of me, and obviously upset at the news reports. We ended up having a nice conversation while giving blood in adjacent recliners. I was rather proudly wearing my seven-gallon pin and was somewhat surprised to find her donations totaled more than ten gallons! Without preaching, she pointed out that the average woman has less blood to begin with, loses some each month from menses, and so gives more of herself when donating. Before we left she told me about the restaurant where she worked. It sounded so inviting (and she seemed so nice) that I had to check it out.

Sandi was a young looking forty, and a real knockout -- beautiful sexy figure, big smile to match, and personality plus. I always asked for her section at the restaurant, and gradually got to know her quite well. She was very attentive to customers, making sure they enjoyed their visit, and I found myself looking forward to seeing and talking with her. On a recent visit I'd heard her tell another restaurant employee that it was her birthday. So I tipped her twenty dollars and left it under my business card on which I'd written "Happy Birthday," signing it "Chris." Then I quietly slipped away, not wanting her to think I intended the gift to be a quid pro quo. Needless to say, on my subsequent visits the service was even better.

A couple of visits later, I casually told Sandi that she must be a mind reader, as she always seemed to anticipate what I needed, even before I knew myself. She gave me a demure smile and simply said, "Thanks, Chris." Then I blurted out, "It's really a good thing you're not actually a mind reader. Otherwise, I'd be in a lot of trouble." She quickly replied, "Me, too." It only took a moment for the impact of what she said to sink in! Taking a deep breath, I asked her if she'd like to meet someplace nice for coffee and conversation. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when she said, without hesitation, "Yes, I'd like that."

We agreed to meet at a nearby Starbucks later that evening. As I sat nervously on the veranda at Starbucks, I felt just like a teenager on a first date. I watched for her car, which she had described as simply "red." It was actually a fire engine red BMW, with stick shift, and it was obvious from the way she deftly wheeled into the parking space that she knew how to drive it. As she stepped out of her car, I saw she'd let her hair down and changed into designer jeans and a simple white blouse. Her clothes showed off a beautiful figure, probably the result of frequent workouts. My hormones were stirring even before she said hello.

We ordered some coffee and ice cream. I was mesmerized by her beautiful green eyes, her sweet way of making you feel at ease, even the sensuous way she savored the ice cream. When I admired a gorgeous emerald ring she was wearing, she held out her hand for me to see. I instinctively took her hand in mine and at that moment something connected between the two of us that I just can't explain. We looked softly into each other's eyes, as if both of us were trying to speak but could not find the words. Then she said, almost in a whisper, "Can we go somewhere?"

It was a brief drive to the Marriott Courtyard just down the road, where I had a room, and Sandi followed me in her BMW. My mind was racing ahead, visualizing being alone with her. I'd already checked in, so we just took the elevator to my floor and walked to the room. Unlocking the door, we stepped inside and it closed behind us. That's when it really sank in that, for the first time in a long while, I was going to make love to a woman. Many emotions were racing through me, including one of simple gratitude for Sandi's trust. My "self-improvement" studies had taught me that the act of making love is more emotionally significant for a woman than it is for a man. My fervent hope was that Sandi wouldn't be disappointed in me.

I took her soft hands in mine and raised them to my lips for a kiss, then put my arms around her for a loving hug. She responded by placing her slightly open mouth against mine. Our moist lips and then our bodies pressed more urgently together. My head was spinning, my heart pounded, and every nerve in my body felt energized. No drug in the world could possibly match those euphoric feelings. As we pulled back and looked at one another, her face told me she was experiencing similar emotions.

There was just a momentary awkwardness, as we looked around the quarters. Sandi came to the rescue, saying "We've both had a busy day, so let's take a nice soak in the tub. I'd love to have you wash my back and rub the tension from my neck and shoulders." I quickly agreed. It was a great idea! As the large bathtub filled with water, she raised her arms to put her hair up and I unbuttoned her blouse. We slowly undressed each other, savoring the moment. I unfastened her bra and slid it from her shoulders, exposing lovely, well-proportioned breasts, with perky turned-up nipples. Admiring her gorgeous figure, I said, "You're beautiful, Sandi." She pressed her firm body against mine, kissing me passionately. It made my genitals tingle in anticipation.

We finished undressing and climbed into the tub. She sat between my legs, with her back to me, and I began to wash her back, neck, and shoulders. She raised her arms for me to do under them, presenting the most erotic view of her breasts. They seemed just waiting for attention, and were not to be disappointed. As I lovingly washed, cupped, and kneaded them, Sandi leaned her head back against my shoulder and turned her face toward me for a wet kiss. I worked slowly down her torso, reaching the golden triangle of soft curly hair on her Venus mons, that most sensual curve advertising the treasures that lie just below. Her eyes were closed and her thighs parted to give access to her most private region.

Words I had studied reminded me, "Be gentle, go slow, patiently coax her passion along." So I bypassed her womanhood and used the washcloth on her legs, stroking them first on top and outside, then underneath her legs and butt. When I did her inner thighs Sandi's midsection was pushed upward, seeking contact. I let go of the washcloth, placed my right hand at the top of her curly mound, and slid it slowly down until I gently cupped her sex. My left arm curled around her and I held one breast, tenderly kneading the nipple. I slowly stroked up and down her labia, easing my middle finger between the soft, puffy outer lips. She thrust up against my hand. Her body became taut from head to toe as I continued to stroke between her sensitive lips.

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