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Female Ejaculation

The call from a family member set things going. It was innocent enough. Would we look after a young visitor from Africa for a week or so? He was over on a sponsored trip to visit benefactors who had contributed towards his education at a school run by a religious order. He was, we were told, a little naïve about worldly matters, and a stay with people a little closer to his own age might be just the thing he needed. At the time in the early eighties we were living near London. There was a spare bedroom and my wife Jo had given up work for a spell to look after the two children. So, we said fine, let’s have him stay. As to us being closer to his own age he was in his very early twenties and we were in our thirties so there was quite a gulf. And we were not at all sure what we were supposed to be doing with him. But it was arranged we would meet Ruhi one weekend at the local station where the eastbound train would duly drop him after he had changed at London.

That day we’d had a trip into town with a bit of shopping and the usual ice-creams for the kids. It was not difficult to spot Ruhi coming out of the station. Weekends were quiet and he was the only jet-black person getting off the train. Not tall, just a little over our modest height, trim but not too slim, and with a surprisingly mature thoughtful looking face under thick short curly hair trimmed western style. He seemed relaxed and wore his denim outfit as if he had grown up in it. We introduced ourselves and he replied in measured careful English as we shook hands. Small talk got us back to our place, we showed him his room with which he seemed delighted, and that was that. We had a new house guest.

That night as Jo and I lay in bed we discussed the new arrival.

“What are we going to do with him?” I asked. “I’ll be at work and once the kids are at school, you’ll be left with the task of keeping him amused somehow”.

“That could be fun”, she replied, cuddling up and moving her leg gently against mine. I let my hand drift between her legs and she pushed her mound up against me. I moved to open her cunt lips and found she was very very wet.

“So, what do you have in mind?” I began teasing her clit.

“I might take him to the pool. If he hasn’t got trunks I’m sure a pair of yours would fit. Quite tightly I’d say”, she added, as she thrust up and down against my busy fingers.

“So, you fancy sizing up his package, do you? You crafty wee mare! Are you planning to cause some swelling in that area perhaps?”

Jo has a great figure. “All tits and bum” is her self-deprecating description, but I’m fine with that. Especially the bum bit. Like most women who’ve had children she doesn’t like bikinis, but she does look great in a swimsuit. And she can be a real tease. But these flashing thoughts had led to a serious bout of swelling on my part. Time to do something about that.

“You haven’t got the hots for him already?” I rolled over and slipped easily inside her soaking cunt, “Have you?” I began thrusting. This was going to be very quick.

She reached down between us to play with herself, “God yes!!” she cried “Yes! Yes! Oh God yes!!” And suddenly I was squirting inside her, she was thrashing about, and we collapsed sweaty and breathless holding each other tightly.

“What the hell happened there?” I asked.

“Your fault asking all those silly questions. Time for sleep now”, she replied. And sleep we did.

Next day was work for me as usual. When I got home the kids were squabbling in the lounge-diner and Jo and Ruhi were in the kitchen. It seemed the nuns might have taught Ruhi to cook and we were going to have something spicy with wraps. Ruhi explained that it was fairly easy to do a version of the meat dishes, but the African bread he favoured was not available so we would have to make do. I made myself useful seeing to drinks. Making do was perfection and the kids enjoyed the change too. After they had gone to bed, we relaxed with our drinks. Ruhi and I were next to each other on the sofa and Jo sat opposite in her lounger. I asked how their day had been.

“Good, thank you”, Ruhi said. “Jo has looked after me very well. We went to town and walked round the shops. Then lunch in a café and after went for a swim in the town pool. It’s quite a big one. I splashed around a lot. I can’t swim very well.”

“You were fine,” said Jo. “Nothing a bit of practice won’t fix. And we need to get you a pair of trunks. Guy’s don’t fit very well. They are old ones from when he was younger and slimmer!”

“That’s home cooking and beer for you,” I admitted. “So, tell us about your school. Was it mixed boys and girls or all boys? And what are your future plans now you’ve left? Tell all!”

Ruhi told us it had been a segregated school run by nuns on quite strict lines. After he left, he had gone back to his village to help on the family smallholding for a couple of years or so. He would like to train as a doctor but medical school was expensive and although he had the necessary antalya escort exam results his family didn’t have the money.

“So, this is a sort of sponsored fund-raising trip?” I asked.

“Yes, in a way.”

I changed tack. “Do you have a girl-friend back at home?”

“No,” he replied.

“But do you like the ladies?”

“Oh yes. And you are very lucky to have such a handsome wife!” Jo smiled appreciatively at the flattery. Smooth operator, I thought. Maybe he was not as naïve as the official line would have it.

“How do young men and women get to know each other in your country?” asked Jo. “It varies,” he replied. “There are a lot of arranged marriages, often of very young women girls really. But in my case, because I had the opportunity to go to a strict private school from an early age, I missed all that. And back in my home village most of the supposedly eligible ladies were already married. Also, my parents are hoping my education continues and I settle down somewhere to a more modern type of life.”

“Don’t tell me you’re twenty-one and never been kissed,” said Jo. It was not possible to tell from Ruhi’s skin colour if he was embarrassed but he chuckled and resumed his thoughtful look.

We chatted on, a decent red wine helping things along. Jo was wearing a white blouse, a lacy white bra and a light blue pleated skirt which had ridden up a little. Obviously, what she’d worn back from the pool before picking up the kids. Ruhi and I were being treated to tantalising glimpses of stockings and wee flashes of white knickers.

“Was there any sex education at your school or was the subject taboo?” she asked.

Ruhi smiled. “There was a long list of things we shouldn’t do on a number of subjects, if that’s what you mean. Anything to do with sex was one of them.”

“Didn’t any of the nuns break ranks give in to temptation surrounded by all you growing lads coming of age?”

“Nowhere near me,” he replied wistfully.

“Never mind,” said Jo. “It was definitely the nuns’ loss. There’s plenty of time and you’ll meet lots of lovely ladies. Mind you, it wouldn’t do any harm for you to learn the basics before you start courting someone seriously. We ladies love a confident man you know. I’ll leave some bedtime reading in your room to get you started.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“I’ll dig out some of those old girly magazines,” She said. “In fact, I’ll do that right now while you boys are chatting otherwise I’ll forget. It’s time for bed anyway. I’ll see you upstairs, Guy. Goodnight Ruhi.” And with that she trotted off upstairs. Well, I thought, that ought to stir things up a bit.

“We might as well call it a night too,” I said. “Work for me tomorrow. And I’m sure Jo will have a plan for you too!”

The bedroom door was slightly ajar. I walked in to find Jo on the bed, skirt pulled up, legs apart, her hand in her knickers playing with herself.

“I was half hoping you’d be Ruhi mistakenly taking the wrong door, but you’ll do,” she said. “And now would be good.”

I know an instruction when I hear one so the door was shut and I was out of my clothes and stiffly to attention before the second sock had hit the floor. Once again it seemed that lengthy preliminaries were not in order and I was soon pounding away. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“A picnic in the bluebell woods.”

“What’ll you wear?”

“You’re crumpling it right now.”

“Are you planning to give him a better look at what he glimpsed earlier?”

“Oh yes!! Accidentally, of course. But much better. Much Oh God Much Oh Yes!!”

Clearly, I was going to have to up the vitamin pill intake and get a personal trainer to deal with all this. So long as I didn’t have to take up jogging again. Nothing is worth taking up jogging for. Nothing.

I was up early and after a detestable two-kilometre jog in the dark I showered, breakfasted, and headed for work with a quick goodbye to drowsy Jo. Giant mugs of steaming coffee danced before me all the way to the office parking slot. The sun rose clear and bright. It was going to be a great day for a picnic but I had things to do so I set about doing them. It turned into a long day and I was late back. To find Jo demonstrating the art of the British back yard charcoal barbecue. The table was groaning with food. Beans, mashed spuds, buns, onions, salads, meats on the hotplate and the last sausages just coming in. Ruhi had located the wine store and proved he could use a corkscrew. The kids announced they must be dead.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because we’re in heaven, of course!” I suspected they’d practiced this one. But I couldn’t fault the logic. After we’d cleared up and played a few rounds of cards the kids were off to bed and we could relax again.

“Did you folks go out today?” I asked innocently.

“We did'” said Ruhi. “Jo suggested we prepare a picnic and we drove down one of the local lanes to a parking spot and went for a lara escort walk in the woods. We borrowed one of your rucksacks to carry everything. I played the gentleman with the pack and Jo acted as my guide.”

“Bluebell wood,” Jo added. “Though lots of the woods have bluebells around now, you know the one I mean.”

“Anyone else about?”

“The occasional dog-walker. It was quiet as it’s midweek. We weren’t disturbed, though the odd dogger did hang around for a while.” I was pretty sure this remark was lost on Ruhi.

“So, you had a quiet lunch and explored the woods?”

“Not so much exploring, of the woods anyway,” said Ruhi. “Jo had packed a picnic blanket and we just relaxed and enjoyed the sun through the trees after lunch. It was all very pretty. Plenty to see but I didn’t notice anyone about at all. Jo must have sharp eyes!” He smiled at her and she cocked her head.

“No wonder you didn’t spot anyone. You were too busy looking elsewhere!”

“Well, the view was very appealing. A lot more interesting than just pictures in magazines. And there seemed to be a heady intoxicating smell too. It all had a powerful effect on me to be honest.” I had a distinct feeling he wasn’t talking about the bluebells.

It was a typical late spring evening and Jo had worn a coat while doing her turn at the grill, but she had hung that up once the meal was served and we came indoors. She was wearing the same outfit as yesterday. She must have ironed the skirt. I idly wondered if she was wearing the same white knickers. Which would account for the intoxicating smell. If Jo had been lying with her legs apart and her skirt riding up a bit and he had been lying between her legs ostensibly gazing up at the leaves. If. What would a passing dogger have thought? We were quietly nursing our drinks in the relaxed way one does after a good meal, except that I had a raging hard on – and I had been at work all day.

“We were in a small clearing,” said Jo. “I was lying with my head on a wee cushion and Ruhi was on his back, mostly, looking up at the dappled sunlight, mostly. I did see a chap stop, presumably with his dog, the other side of some bushes by the path we’d settled down away from. He appeared to be fiddling with something, perhaps a dog lead. He seemed to be pulling on something quite vigorously, then he got back in control and disappeared. Funnily enough, another chap appeared later in the same spot and had the same problem. Probably a dead animal attracting the dogs.” Ruhi seemed lost in some happy dream while Jo had rambled on about being watched by doggers, presumably while giving them a splendid show to which Ruhi thought he was the only one privy. As she spoke, she had let her legs drift slowly apart and we men were both, for our own reasons, held spellbound in the moment.

“It’s OK to look,” I said to Ruhi. “There are no nuns around that I can see”. He smiled. I pointed to his crotch. “Does looking make your penis hard? It does mine. We men only have to get the slightest indication from a lady that she’s feeling a little naughty and we get stiff right away. Ready to do our duty, just in case it’s required of us. But the ladies take a little longer to get ready. They need a bit of wooing.” I made the gesture with my finger of a limp penis growing quickly erect. Ruhi didn’t seem embarrassed but looked at me quizzically. Jo looked at me encouragingly.

I decided to plough on with what Jo had described yesterday as “the basics”. So that we were all on the same physical page at least. Apart from the fact we didn’t know how much Ruhi knew, these were different times from nowadays. The internet was, literally, in its babyhood. The web was some years ahead. And Britain wasn’t Sweden. You couldn’t just walk into the local sex shop and find yourself surrounded by pictures of giant penises spraying cum in all directions. Soft porn on the top shelf was as far as it got for most people. Of course, there was swinging, more commonly called wife-swapping in those days, and dogging was well established if less well publicised. But most people didn’t encounter either, and as for Jo and myself we had no interest in the local wife-swapping scene which seemed about as spontaneous as feeding time at the zoo, and none in seeking out dogging locations either. So, today’s events had been pure luck in that regard.

“You get a stiff penis – the slang word for penis is ‘cock’, but don’t use that in front of people you don’t know very well – so that you can put it into the lady’s vagina, the birth canal, to squirt your seed inside her to make a baby. But it’s also lots of fun to do if you’re not trying to make a baby. ‘Cunt’ is the slang word for vagina; ‘pussy’ and ‘fanny’ are others regarded as less rude. You move your cock in and out of her cunt and that gets you excited to the point where you squirt your semen into her, the fluid containing your seed or ‘sperms’. That’s called an ‘orgasm’ or ‘coming’ in common speech. Ladies have orgasms side escort too, but we’ll get to that shortly. The whole act is called ‘sexual intercourse’ or a ‘fuck’ in common parlance.” I paused to let all this sink in, if sinking were needed.

“Ladies don’t get excited as quickly as men. They need to be relaxed and in the right frame of mind for a start, whereas men can literally drop everything and be stiff and sex ready in half a minute. A build up with flirting and intimate conversation followed by caresses and gentle stimulation of their breasts and vaginal area helps get a lady get in the mood and she will start to get wet inside, lubricating her cunt so the cock can slide in easily and move in and out just as easily. When a lady is very aroused, she may leak a little as her lubrication increases. Ladies have a tiny penis of their own called a ‘clitoris’, ‘clit’ for short, at the top of the folds above the cunt itself. Stimulation of her clitoris gives the lady an orgasm in the same way as stimulation of the cock gives a man his. And both men and women can stimulate themselves by rubbing their clit or cock – this is called masturbation, or ‘wanking’ in common parlance. Almost everyone does this and it’s great fun.”

“The nuns mentioned that in a round about way. They said it was a very bad thing to do,” said Ruhi.

“I guess they would. Sad for them really.” Despite the nuns’ disapproval Ruhi had a large swelling in his trousers that gave the game away. “Jo, could you help out here please. Could you just indicate the rough position of your clit through your knickers, and then where the cunt opening is, for us?”

Jo slipped forward on her lounger and opened her legs a little wider. Ruhi and I paid immediate attention. “Here’s my clit,” she said, placing a finger on the spot. She started to play the fingertip up and down. “This is how I have a gentle wank through my knickers if I feel in the mood.” She moved her fingers down and pressed a bit lower. “And here is the prize,” she said. She took her hand away and a darker patch was left where she had pressed. She must be very wet, I thought. “There was a game we used to play as kids called ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’. I’ll show you exactly where the clit and cunt are if you boys show me your cocks, and if you like we could each rub our own while we watched each other. Nice and safe. No touching. How do you boys feel?”

Ruhi and I looked at each other. He looked like someone who’d just been offered two large scoops of Italian ice cream. I nodded to him. “We think that’s quite a good idea,” he said. A master of understatement, this boy, I thought.

Jo hitched her skirt right up and slipped her knickers off. Sitting in front of us, semi-clad, with stockinged legs splayed she looked like every man’s wet dream. We undid our belts and trousers and slipped them down. I was so turned on my cock was straining up and felt as big as it ever had, modest though that was. Ruhi’s sprang up like a steamship’s funnel after going under London Bridge, big and jet black. Longer and thicker than mine while not being disproportionate it was a very fine specimen. Jo had landed her fish. She too now had that two-scoop look. She started to tease her clit so we could see clearly and then held her cunt open with the other hand displaying the pink wet folds for us.

“Come on boys. Start rubbing those cocks for me!”

I took the lead as the one-eyed man in the land of the blind and Ruhi got the message. After a sidelong glance to establish what might be good technique he was away with enthusiasm. Like Jo and I on previous nights, this couldn’t last. Ruhi was young, excited beyond measure, and rubbing his cock like a man possessed as he stared fixedly at Jo’s dripping delights. Suddenly he went rigid and grunted as huge jets of cum squirted skywards in great arcs, spattering the carpet and reaching as far as Jo’s legs. She and I stopped our efforts simultaneously. Jo’s mouth hung open and all I could manage was “Wow!” which seemed a bit weak. More jogging would be required, I thought. I definitely couldn’t keep up with this in my current state.

As we recovered Jo clapped loudly. “Amazing! Well done that man!” she cried. “I’ll just get a cloth to clean up and then I think it’s bed time for all of us. An important milestone has been passed and I’m sure we’re all feeling a bit tired now.”

And off she trotted like the night before to busy herself with the necessary chores before bed. No need to leave magazines now though, I thought. Ruhi and I busied ourselves readjusting our dress, a task the ladies had pat at such times by just flipping down their skirts, and I shook his hand. Unspoken though it was Jo and I had immediately grasped the need to help Ruhi feel good about what had just happened instead of feeling pointless nun induced shame. As it turned out we needn’t have worried. But at the time it seemed the right thing to do to both of us. Just as Ruhi was about to go upstairs Jo reappeared and pressed something into his hand with a quick whisper in his ear.

“Come on, Guy,” she said. “It’s long past your bedtime.” And she led me off before I could ask any questions.

“So, what was all that about?” I asked, as we lay there quietly relaxing.

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