Introduction: Princeton, New Jersey, August 9^th

 

The most memorable summer of my life so far was almost over. The weather in Princeton was already uncomfortably warm and humid - it was a typical East Coast August. But the time I'd spent with Rebecca in the cabin in upstate New York - and in New York City the following couple of weeks was a memory I would cherish for the rest of my life.

I'd long finished packing my life into the shipment boxes - boy, I was putting a lot of stuff into storage; a lot of memories of my nerdy youth. I'd take only the bare essentials with me to England.

The house didn't look that empty - mom and dad were renting it furnished for the moment to avoid the cost of storing the furniture. They'd also rented a furnished place in England - near Cambridge, and I'd probably move into a tiny student apartment in London for my PhD studies.

In the words of the song - my bags are packed, and I'm ready to go.

The sound of the doorbell was a surprise; the movers weren't due until tomorrow and mom and dad were saying goodbye to friends across town. It might be a neighbour with a parting gift - I knew Mrs.. Ballotti hadn't been able to make it to the farewell party.

When I opened the door I was surprised to see who was standing there. She was wearing a tight blue sailor-stripe T-shirt and white Capri pants that clung to her perfect figure.

"Rebecca!" I gasped. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I took a personal day," she said, stroking a lock of her long, brown hair away from her face. I marvelled again how good she looked for a lady who was my mom's age. Then again, mom and dad had taken pretty good care of themselves too - maybe forty five was the new thirty after all!

"Are your parents here? I didn't see the car. M...may I come in?" she asked; I smiled and stepped back, giving her a peck on the cheek as she passed me. I glanced out to the street, but there didn't seem to be anyone around to notice us.

"Of course! I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you...we're out of most things, but there's still some ice tea in the refrigerator if you're thirsty."

"That would be nice, Anthony; thank you. It's really hot today."

"You said it."

 

Rebecca Shaw had been a friend of the family all of my life and as the most attractive mature woman I knew it was inevitable that she'd been a key figure in some of my adolescent sexual fantasies. Twice-divorced; she was now in her mid-forties and she possessed a timeless, intelligent beauty that reminded me of an up-market news-anchor. Her long brown hair always seemed to be perfectly groomed, and her thoughtful, hazel eyes exuded an air of quiet confidence that as a teenager, had often kept me tongue-tied in her presence.

As a geek I found the fact that she worked in the high technology field an additional turn-on. She'd been a successful engineer in Bell Labs - the same company where my dad worked - and had then moved into sales for a series of networking start-ups. Financially she'd done pretty well from her marriages, but even better from the various stock option plans and bonuses she'd earned herself. She was quick to admit that she used her feminine charms to close deals with a predominantly male customer base - the white Ferrari outside was a testament to that success.

The first sexual contact between us occurred when I was in my sophomore year at MIT - during a family barbecue in the summer vacation when Rebecca had asked to see the computer rig that I'd hacked together from discarded PCs in the basement of our home.

She listened patiently as I explained how I'd built the array and modified a Linux kernel to run the software more efficiently; and how I coped with the different clock rates of the CPUs in the array - since they were all a mish-mash of salvaged PC boards. She also asked a number of quite insightful questions and I had to grab a notepad to sketch out my replies to her satisfaction. After a few minutes her next comment to me was quite a surprise.

"You know, Anthony," she said softly when I paused between sketching. "Girls prefer it when you don't keep staring at their boobs. My eyes are up here...I don't think you'd noticed."

I flushed a deep red. In fact, I'd been desperately trying not to stare at Rebecca's gorgeous cleavage - but Christ! What did she expect? The low cut white summer dress she wore presented them perfectly - in fact her lightly tanned flesh was beautifully framed by the thin, white material. Mom had taken great delight in telling me how Rebecca's current husband, a plastic surgeon, had bragged about giving her such a "lovely rack".

As Rebecca stared at me I tried to stop my eyes flicking down to her chest yet again - but it was like somebody telling you not to think of an elephant. I was babbling some kind of apology, but she kept edging closer to me. She may only be five four, but her sheer force of presence was making me nervous - especially now her right index finger was tracing slow figures of eight on my T-shirt, around my nipples.

"I think I'm going to take it as a compliment - because you're such a beautiful boy, Anthony. I'm sure any girl would be proud to be with you, and it's quite nice that you find me - or at least this part of me - so attractive. But if you look women in the eyes they'll respect you a whole lot more; and there'll be plenty of time to look at their tits once you get them into bed, won't there?"

"Y...yes, ma'am," I whispered. I could feel Rebecca's thigh pressing harder against my cock as she continued to rub my nipples gently...she would know exactly what that lump was.

"I think a quick spanking is in order," she told me. "Just to hammer this lesson home...what do you say, sweetie?"

"Wh...what?"

"Across my knee...twelve strokes...or I tell your dad all about you copping a feel when I came down here."

"B...but I never touched you!" I gasped.

"Oh, Anthony...I've known your dad since before you were born. I think he'll believe me when I tell him - especially when he sees that stain on the front of your jeans."

I looked down and saw she was right. There was a darker patch starting to form in my crotch. Shit!

"Y...you...seriously want to spank me?" I gasped.

"Sweetie; what I really want is for you to lick my pussy until I come, but we don't have time for that. You see; I can't imagine you're very experienced at giving a real woman pleasure that way. I'm sure the sweet young things that you fuck in the back of your dad's car are very grateful for the attention a good looking boy like you gives to them; so they're happy to fake their orgasms for you." She paused and stroked my hair gently. "But a real woman expects a little more...diligence...and a little more skill that, frankly, I don't think you have. I'm sure you could give me some kind of satisfaction sooner or later; but I'm afraid we just don't have the time for that. People upstairs - especially your mom and dad - will wonder what we're up to. So I'll just have to make do with spanking you...then when Reuben fucks me later I'll be able to fantasize about your tight little ass wriggling on my lap, won't I?"

Before I could answer Rebecca had sat on my office chair, and raised the skirt of her sundress so I could lie across her bare, tanned thighs. I looked at her in amazement - this was like something out of a fucking porno movie! In fact, I concluded it was too good to pass up the offer. I paused for just a second, and then began to move into position.

"Jeans down, sweetie," she said quickly.

"B...but..."

"Jeans down; shorts too...a bare-ass spanking really is the only way you'll appreciate the lesson, believe me."

I was red with embarrassment as I took down my jeans and boxers. My erection was there for her to see, and she could also see that I was leaking a clear, sticky liquid from the end of my cock too. I felt her hand stroking the bare flesh of my ass for a few seconds before...whack! The first slap was way harder than I thought it would be! She made me thank her for each stroke, and ask her for the next one..."full etiquette" she called it. After I'd taken a dozen smacks I was required to lick up the sticky mess my cock had made on her silky smooth legs. Finally, I was allowed to pull up my pants.

"Stay down here for at least the next ten minutes," she ordered, flexing her hand and smiling. "I need to get back to the party. This will be our little secret, Anthony."

"Y...yes, ma'am," I told her. "Th...thank you, ma'am."

She smiled again - her face flushed with excitement. "You're thanking me? You enjoyed it, did you? Are you going to masturbate after I leave? Wait...that was a stupid question...of course you are."

I couldn't reply - Rebecca seemed to be the master - or Mistress of the situation. She walked over to me and kissed me on the mouth; her kiss was confident, and her lipstick tasted good.

"Please think of me when you jerk off, Anthony...you have my permission to come...and do let me know if you feel you need any further...instruction."

"Th...thank you...ma'am." I stammered, unable to think of anything else to say. I watched her gorgeous ass walk confidently out of the basement and back to the party.

Holy shit...I came about a minute after she left. I shot a load so large that I thought I'd pissed myself somehow. I'd completely misjudged it, and my T-shirt ended up covered in my own spunk. Luckily the laundry basket was down in the basement too; and I was able to find another T-shirt in there that wasn't too dirty. That had been the most intense sexual experience of my life so far - and I wasn't exactly a virgin even then!

When I headed back to MIT a few weeks later I had a pang of regret that I might not be able to see Rebecca again - she lived near my home town of Princeton and I'd be in Boston. But I remembered her advice and found that girls really did prefer it when you didn't stare at their tits! I also remembered her offer of "further instruction".