Colette Bentley loved sex but did not care for controlling men, particularly older men who no longer had the stamina to perform. When she had first become a flight attendant a senior group of BRITISH AIRWAYS pilots judged her as one of the most sought-after girls in her graduating class. All these men were members of the SAS, a UK advisory force in Viet NAM, adventurers most of whom would never marry. Each year they rated the top ten flight attendants from each graduating class and designated them “Cockpit Courtesans.”

Colette was no slut by any means, she was a free spirit who had only two boyfriends during her high school years. Her first sexual experience was with her next-door neighbor both losing their virginity to each other at the age of fourteen. Like all virgins, the neighbor boy knew nothing about sex yet still managed to awaken sensations inside Colette’s body that made her crave more. After copulating with him for a few months she hoped to refine their experience, but he never developed the interest to make it more satisfying for her. He was rough when he broke her hymen and ejaculated far before she was able to climax not doing more than cumming inside her and pulling out. In the ensuing months, he never showed interest beyond his sexual release.

When she was a first-year student in high school Colette was more mature than most of her classmates, but her parents refused to let her date until she was fifteen and a sophomore. Unknown to them Burt Claymore, a junior who owned his car, took her for drives after school, always ending up in the park where they necked and petted. He was a tender kisser who gently fondled her breasts who Colette eagerly let go all the way on his first try.

Having been continually disappointed in her neighbor’s version of sex she let Burt fuck her twice that day. After that, she helped him find her clitoris and coached him to bring her to orgasm. They became “steadies” through her sophomore and his senior year. He always insisted on using a condom. When he graduated and went to college Colette segued to Burt’s younger brother Corey who was a year older than she. As it turned out he was every bit as good a lover as his brother. When Cory graduated, she spent her senior year with Burt and Corey’s cousin Sam Broadbent. Sam attended a local trade school and like Burt and Corey, he was an equally adept lover. Colette formed the impression of the brothers and their cousin Sam learning from an older woman who she suspected was their mother and aunt. She recognized her as being a “touchy-feely,” affectionate woman.

By the time she got to college, the fetching auburn-haired had become well-adjusted to males ogling her. While she liked the attention, she did not appreciate the primal way most guys leered at her. Going with three college boys during her years at school. The first was a sexual blunderer, no better than the first boy with whom she had carnal knowledge. The next two either never learned or cared enough to get her off. Realizing that Burt, Corey Claymore, and their cousin Sam Broadbent had spoiled her Colette decided that college boys, in general, were just not going to satisfy her sexual needs.

McMaster was a fifty-year-old widower who regularly invited his students to tea at his house, on the way to finding a special girl who would fill his needs for the duration of a school term. When Colette struck his fancy, he enticed her to come back by herself where he lovingly talked about his deceased wife who he said he missed very much. When she asked if he ever saw any other women he said, “Yes, but they’ve all been college students whom I’ve been interested in enough to have back for more than a few visits.”

“Do you have any hopes of more than three visits with me Dr. McMaster?” Colette boldly asked.

Taken by her audacious approach McMaster said, “I always hope there will be someone I can count on more permanently, at least while they are here at the University.” Smiling cautiously, he added, “I’m looking for a sensible relationship for the duration of Miss Bentley, not a lifetime commitment.”

“So why are you telling this to me, Dr. McMaster?”

McMaster said, “You attracted me the moment you walked into class Ms. Bentley, you are a marvelously beautiful and engaging woman. I think you should know dear that there have been numerous other beautiful, young women but most of them have tended to be too shallow for me.

“Do you think I’m shallow Dr. McMaster?” she liked the back-and-forth way the conversation was going and the way he was giving her the option of both growing with him and their sharing sexual pleasure together.

“I thought you might have been when I first saw you, Ms. Bentley, which is certainly the pattern. But the way you participate in class so fearlessly and the mature and thoughtful observations you make have made me believe that you are ANYTHING but shallow.”

“So, do you think I’m deep enough to engage with you for more than three afternoons of tea?”

Chuckling he said, “That remains to be seen (May I call you Colette?),” Before easily seducing his beautiful student into a surprisingly satisfying round of first-time sex. The relationship would continue for the duration of her college career.

Upon becoming a flight attendant for BRITISH AIRWAYS Colette Bentley became the darling of the “Squadron,” made up of the former SAS men. Flying with all of them she shared many of their beds on various “layovers,” and during the next three years became serious with three of them finally settling down with one, becoming Ms. Spike Muldoon. It was a marriage lasting only four years though. Spike, in his late fifties, was a heavy drinker with diminishing sexual vitality.

Desired by other members of the Squadron though Colette during her marriage and after it dissolved was sleeping with several of them. Sex with “stews” was common within their “brotherhood,” convenient during their recurring layovers. While she loved the camaraderie and sex a couple of pilots were pressing her to settle down. But after her failed marriage with Spike, she ruled out another marriage until perhaps after she retired, and the fire of sex had begun to wane.

During this time, she met a young passenger who had just graduated high school and was on his way to attend Cambridge University. Midway through the flight, the young man was so fearful of flying that she thought she might have to call a psychological team to meet him at Gatwick. But because of the way she dealt with him through the rest of the flight he was in better shape when they landed.

Because the young man (Connor Cleveland) was so fearful that she found “mothering” him to be both rewarding and stimulating. When she learned that he was flying three days early before he needed to check in at Cambridge and had reservations at “a charming hotel” in London, she suggested that he cancel the reservations and move in with her for the duration where she would show him around London for the next three days. Remembering what astute lovers, the young Claymore boys, and their cousin had been she became further convinced that Ms. Claymore had carefully taught those boys what sex was all about. Seeing her opportunity to do the same for Connor she took him home, treated him to a shared bubble bath, and introduced him to her version of adult of sex.

When she took Connor’s erection into her mouth, it felt like a new kind of energy force. Thrilled by the liveliness of his sexual tool she choked on a volume of semen she had never experienced from grown men. Amazed that this youngster though petrified of flying and so shy and naïve could be such a wellspring of potency she thought WOW, what a darling boy this Connor is. She could not believe that she had almost forgotten how much sperm the Claymores had pumped into her mouth and on her body during the S she knew them. Sex with older men like her college professor coupled with the concern over the eventuality waning of her vitality triggered her quest to hone young men into the kind of sexual partners she preferred. Having experienced the waning of Spike’s vitality as well the disappearance of youthful vigor in the men of the Squadron, Connor’s rigidity and geyser-like ejaculations established a new sexual destiny.

By the time, their three days together ended Colette marveled at how quickly she had turned this milquetoast into a veritable stud. Through her fellations, coital iterations, and continuous guidance on cunnilingus she was amazed at how the young man developed such control and confidence so quickly. Looking back at her early sex with clueless boys versus her continual satisfaction with the Claymores taught by their mother, convinced her that sex education is best when taught by an experienced teacher. She realized how much gold she could find by digging into those youthful bodies.

After three spectacular days of intensely tutoring Connor Cleveland, her future was set. When they woke up together in bed that morning and he climbed on top of her, commanding that she spread her legs, “so I can fuck your cunt,” she knew that a smart woman could create a whole stable of ideal lovers.

Like Ms. Claymore’s efforts with her sons and nephew, Colette began schooling young males in carnal knowledge of the female body and how far to take it. In a way, during her shuttles from London to New York and back, Colette Bentley became the untrumpeted sex coach of intercontinental frolics with selected young males. As she approached the age of fifty, she began wondering if there might be the possibility that she would have sex with any sons of her earliest pupils.

After making Arthur Chadwick’s first overseas flight his most unimaginable experience, Colette hijacked him to her apartment and as she had done with Connor Cleveland and so many other young men, began another crash course in advanced sexuality.

It was her Professor, Dr. Devon McMaster who introduced her to having her pussy eaten after insemination. At the time she was squeamish about it, but McMaster adored the kinky practice. Putting the palm of her hand on Arthur’s head she held him back and said, “I was enjoying what we were doing so much Arthur that I forgot you might want me to clean up my messy twat.” As he took his head away, she heard his pent-up breath whistling past his lips in relief for the welcomed break.

Arthur’s interpretation: “I did not say anything when she captured my head between her legs and rolled off the bed. But I cannot tell you how relieved I was when she decided to release my head and let me rest. Cunnilingus was something I had never even heard of, much less thought about doing before she took me to her apartment with her. At that time, the thought of putting my mouth on a woman’s vagina would have been like eating raw liver.” When she clarified what the word meant I tried to imagine doing it and almost gagged. When she sucked my pecker, something I had never even imagined before, I thought I was in heaven. Then when I put my boner inside her—she told me to call it a “cock”—it was a feeling that no Christmas present, candy, or roller coaster ride even came close to. I guess every time I jacked off and shot, I imagined what being inside a woman’s vagina might feel like. But when she jacked me off on the plane, I felt like I was melting when I came. Just the warm hand of another person being where mine had been giving me a feeling of amazement but this, WOW. I am still amazed that she wanted to sit next to me.

Then after all the sex stuff she had been leading me through in her flat, I would have done anything she asked me to do—I owed her that. But putting my mouth on her “twat,” as she called it ... covered with my slimy jizz ... JEEZ O MAN, I think I might have thrown up.

Thinking about it before she came back from the bathroom, I still had residue of sperm on my pecker. It was just a tiny bit, so I touched it with my little finger and flicked my fingertip with my tongue. It had a strange, musky taste but was not THAT bad. Trying to sell myself on putting my mouth on Colette’s “twat” though I remember thinking who does that? And the idea of performing cunnilingus on Colette turned me off. It did however give me a powerful need to take a good look at her pussy, and what about all that splooge on it? I felt kinda weird wanting to look at her pussy all spread open like that, kinda guilty for having such thoughts. But I could not stop myself from thinking God I hope she opens her pussy and shows it to me. And I wondered what it would look like with all my jizz on it.

I had seen pictures of naked women, was intrigued by their mounds (usually covered with hair) and the split where their lips showed. But I always wanted to see it all opened; what color it would be, the pee-hole and what the hole that went into her body looked like ... where babies were born from. It was neat to be able to shoot inside her. But the thought that my jizz dripping out of it and coating her pussy lips would look disgusting. I wonder if she likes having that stuff there ... and how she feels having it inside her. Could she feel my spermatozoa swimming inside her? It is stupid to think about these things, but my mind just will not turn off.

My back was to her when she came back in the room and said, “A Penny for your thoughts Arthur.”

I was embarrassed, afraid that she might have been reading my thoughts. When I looked at her, she had this wonderfully pert look on her face, like my mother waking me up and thinking isn’t he cute? Colette’s body looked even sexier to me when she came back into the room. It was because I had gotten over the amazement of seeing a grown woman’s naked body for the first time plus the intimacy of our bare skin touching before she sucked me.

And when we fucked... WOW. I noticed that there were pimple-like bumps that ringed her nipples. I liked those brownish rings that circled them; they sucked into the middle of her tits. It was obvious by her damp pubic hair that she had cleaned herself off down there. Christ, I thought, now I am gonna see her pussy again? This time I will take a better look. But, sheesh, I will have to put my MOUTH on it.

Putting her left knee on the bed Colette said, “Okay sweetie.” She pressed on my chest with the palm of her hand and used it as a vault to throw her right leg over my body. It seemed strange to be looking up past her bushy hair to where her belly was slightly pooched, then seeing the bottom of her titties, their nipples sticking out, and seeing her grinning face looking down at me through the valley between her tits.

“Take a good look Arthur,” she said as she put both hands between her legs and raised herself slightly, spreading her pussy lips open with her fingers.

Her crack was GLISTENING. It was a pink groove with delicate flaps that hung down a bit. I could see her dark hole opening. It looked jagged around the edges as if something might have been torn away sometime in her life. It was wet in there, kind of bubbling like a clam might look when you opened the shell. At the top of her groove was a bump the size of a small lima bean sheathed with a soft, suede-like sheath that had a shiny, pea-like bud peeking out.

Putting her finger next to her hole she spread her lips open a little wider and said, “This is my vagina, Arthur. It is where your penis goes when you fuck me, Honey.” She said it like she had said it often before, like a teacher. Moving her finger to her lima bean she continued, “This is my clitoris, something especially important to every lady. Rubbing it with your finger or exciting it with your tongue can bring us, females, to orgasm, which is a wonderful way for us to experience our most wonderful pleasure.” The way she was explaining it was erotically educational, teaching, and exciting me at the same time.