An Aggressive Learning Strategy

Jeff's head was in a whirl: he was half-dazed with pure lust, drenched in the most extreme horniness, and trying to control himself. At face value, all this private information flowing out of her certainly seemed like a request for advice and explanations: but it could equally be a rather sophisticated and incredibly strong come-on. But, by a female of her age and non-existent experience? He brought himself up short at that thought: WHICH age, anyhow? Intellectual, physical, emotional? Plus, every man in the world has been heavily flirted with by four and six year old girls, not to even mention any teen's proclivities!

So - was this Zo's try at seduction? If not, then what else might it be, exactly? And what in the world might be his "correct" response in any case? He tried to be neutral, much though he didn't want to - all he REALLY wanted was to grab her and introduce her to whatever 'depraved' things sexual she might desire to explore. In depth and great detail, please! And if she happened to be momentarily uncertain how to proceed at any point, well, he could surely make intelligent and interesting suggestions that would appeal to her curiosity!

But first, reality intruded: he was still filthy - for all their interchange, they had yet to unleash soap or shampoo, and the streaming hot water by itself had so far proven more scenic background than effective cleanser. The dirt constrained his options - were he to try to give some direction to the flow of events, it wouldn't be very romantic or sexy, and he was also trapped in this quandary of indecision. So he decided to simply answer her question - she was being extraordinarily straightforward and blunt, he would reciprocate, check her reactions. Gain some time, perhaps? But if so, to what end?

He took a deep breath, and plunged in: first, resolve the primary question - was this serious... a genuine sexual pass? If so, and perhaps not fully understood as such by Zo herself, say because it was purely hormonal, then what complications!? Or was this much simpler, just a plea for help with the boyfriend?

He tested again: "Of course, Lady Zo, I would love to make love with you, and you could give me orgasms - lots of them - very easily, and in many different ways... hand, mouth, butt, pussy... maybe others as well. And I could reciprocate, of course."

"Now THERE was an interesting change of expression!" he thought - he seemed to have taken her a little aback - were she fair-skinned there would be an embarrassed redness to her face - plus a generous leavening of curiosity!

But, he realized with a start, it was much more than mere embarrassment: Doctor J's imperfect male ability to read people did not keep him from interpreting the tiny changes about her eyes, the infinitesimal shifts in her posture and movements. What he saw there surprised him, for he'd have thought it belonged only on an older, much more worldly woman. In fact, just how many times had he read that precise expression across a restaurant table, or a lab desk, in a car, and elsewhere? He couldn't remember ever having erred, either.

The eyes alone told him with no uncertainty that she had consciously made up her mind that she was going to mate with this man, and not merely 'someday, somehow, somewhere' but NOW. It both pleased and rattled him - he was actually going to have to make a decision soon, wasn't he? That is, IF he still HAD a choice!? It was entirely possible that he did not.

He managed to keep going. "You would find it interesting and we both would find it exquisitely satisfying, believe me. But we are not in such a relationship, are we? Just Guru and student. So far."

She instantly saw the implications of 'so far' and those implications gave her goose-bumps. "We've not even gone on a date. And there is the ages problem - if one chooses to consider it a problem. I do NOT, but the rest of the world seems to care a great deal. But to answer your specific question, NO WAY, Lady Zo, would I cry! Hell no! I might talk a lot about what we did and what we felt, and about what we might do next... I would certainly be happy and emotional and content and feel warm and close to you... but cry? Whatever in the world for?"

He finished up somewhat lamely: "I don't know whether or not you intended to issue me an invitation, and if it was an invitation, then to exactly what? We might talk about that after the shower and shampoo, when we have had a chance to cool down and think. But, Zo, don't you want to wait for these things until you meet the so-called 'right man'?"

She had been listening attentively, and now she snorted derisively. "That is a mythical beast, Doctor J, just like the unicorn, the mermaid, the Phoenix, BigFoot, the Tibetan Yeti! What should I do then, wait essentially forever? Wait so that I can eventually enter into a marriage untouched and therefore utterly ignorant? I do not think that is a sane path! Do you? Would you recommend it, say, to your sister or daughter? I strongly suspect NOT!"

She went suddenly shy, her voice almost disappearing beneath the shower's noise: "Besides, Doctor J, who says I have not met him already, this mysterious and perhaps usually-hypothetical 'right man'? At least, 'right' for some purposes?"

She gazed at him, now face-to-face, her eyes hooded, gauging.

Jeff looked very serious now: she waited, thinking only "PLEASE!?"

Finally he smiled and said "Who, indeed? Perhaps you have! But what about getting me clean before we discuss it further?"

No rejection! She could breathe again!

She took active command of the shower situation, much to Jeff's relief: a return to the mundanities of soap and water could stall the inevitable decision. "You are correct, you are still almost as much of a mess as when we got into the shower! Plain water, however hot, seems powerless against YOUR messiness!" She dropped the jump-seat down from its wall recess. "Sit down here so that I can reach your head and shampoo you properly: if you stand it will not work, I cannot reach it! Such a bloody awful mess you made of your hair! We will do your body afterwards for the mud and grease. Washing from the top down is a good plan. That way gravity helps. Now, close your eyes."

She stepped toward him: he spread his legs so she could get closer, she moved to stand between his knees, staring down again to where his cock stood up ready and eager. Now they were poised in a delicate situation: her nipples were barely below his eye level and even though he couldn't see them through closed lids, his mouth watered. He allowed himself a first overt move, a show of lathering his hands with soap, then pressing them all slippery into the backs of her knees. He slid them upwards slowly, her skin flowing like warm silk against his palms. She twitched, then shivered - the sensations were powerful, delicious, everything she had hoped for.

How could she encourage him to NOT stop? Advantage Jeff for the moment!

She quickly found there was no need to encourage him - his eyes opened, slitted against the spray, and they watched one another hawk-like as his hands arrived at and cupped her buttocks. They fit as if designed for it.

He smiled up at her: her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated into huge pools surrounded by dark irises that made them larger yet. "You may tell me to stop at any time and I'll obey. I promise, absolutely. And Lady Zo, I do know that I am making a huge leap here and assuming reciprocity in the matter of touching. I need your permission - is this quite okay? I will not be offended if you say NO."

She nodded her permission silently, shampoo bottle gripped fiercely in one hand. It was so ineffably far beyond mere "OK" as to be indescribable.

Then he surprised her: "You have the nicest little butt, Lady Zohra... I like it! Very much. Maybe later I'll kiss it? If you invite me, that is!"

The very idea of his mouth anywhere on her body made her shiver. More Progress! Scary, though. She glowed, sighed, then shook herself and held up the bottle: "Shampoo time now?"

He shook his head, said "Not quite yet, please!" He dropped his eyes from hers down to her nipples.

She could feel his gaze on her skin. Amazing! "Doctor J we really should shampoo your hair, but you do not seem to obey orders at all well. I told you to close your eyes. And here they are, wide open again. Why is that?"

Jeff muttered "My eyes are very busy now. They have to be open so I can study your absolutely beautiful boobs, which you have so kindly invited me to do!"

She set down the bottle, reached for his ears, tilted his face up. "Doctor J, that is very complimentary, but it cannot be quite one hundred percent true, for I do not yet have breasts. Or boobs either, for that matter. Breasts, boobs, tits, even hooters - there are far too many names for such simple things! But I am an ugly scrawny undeveloped little woman. I have only just recently begun my periods, menarche, almost all the women in MaMá's family are as slow as I to begin, some are delayed even more years, although always it seems they do eventually get there, the wait can be intensely frustrating. Anyway, my latest one finished two days ago, so my age of puberty is finally really and truly upon me but by no means well begun, much less complete."

She giggled: "You can tell that about me. For instance, I have almost no pubic hair yet, as you have no doubt observed - although both my parents have an extravagant amount, a superabundance, so I will undoubtedly be like them eventually. As you have said many times, one's genetic makeup has a way of winning eventually. My PaPá I have seen naked only once, by accident several years ago, and he has a huge pile of pubic hair, like a little black haystack. But MaMá shaves down here, just as you do: she let me watch her once when I was a little girl and very curious. It was interesting. She told me that being shaved and completely smooth is a mark of good breeding and good manners, and also a very sexy thing which most men seem to enjoy and quite a necessary thing in our old culture back home where a woman unshaved would be considered untouchable, so I suspect she would like you this way. I do think I greatly prefer her way, your way also, I mean shaved, because it is so nice and smooth and pretty. Therefore, obviously I shall shave too when the time comes. And as to my boobs, well, sometime soon I will have real ones. Meanwhile, since all men seem to be fascinated by boobs, I apologize for disappointing you!"

Being cute, she threw at him one of his favorite teaching tropes - arguing from observation, from data. "But consider the DATA, Doctor J, as gathered by my senses and interpreted via my studies! The data tell me that my future - my presently merely hypothetical - boobs will probably be large for my frame. I shall be top-heavy, and therefore unstable in a wind! You will have to stay always beside me whenever the wind blows, to help stand me up again when my wind-sail boobs tip me over."

Laughing, she went on: :The data are that my MaMá certainly does have large boobs, although her clothing disguises them well. She has beautiful breasts you know, quite large they are even for her roly-poly body, and with HUGE nipples."

Jeff wisely said nothing about his observations of MaMá's boobs - which observations had been quite detailed, if ultimately discreet.

"MaMá's tits sway nicely when she walks without a brassiere..." said Zo "...which of course she never would do outside our home and seldom even there. I should get from her a similar configuration, if there is any justice in the world. Which - also of course! - there probably is NOT! After all, the world has no sense of justice that anyone can see!"

Unbidden, actually unwelcome, Jeff's imagination conjured up a whole new picture: MaMá naked, very Hindu-temple-statue-esque, rounded hips, naked mons, heavy breasts with oversized dark nipples, the boobs facing unnaturally straight ahead instead of radially outwards. He tried -and failed- to hide behind a neutral expression.

Zohra was far too sensitive an observer to miss the flicker of change dance across his face, much less miss what it meant. She flashed hot for a moment, told him "Now Doctor J, all such information is an absolute secret! You are NOT to go imagining my MaMá naked! That would not be fair because it would put me into competition with her and that is a battle I fear I should lose. Besides, she already has a man..." Then, with a cooler look, "... actually, she has as of today at least TWO men."

She paused to study Jeff's face, found nothing disapproving, so continued with a little shrug: "There is of course PaPá, but she has also another man hidden away somewhere, this I know for reasons I will not explain. An alternate man for very rare and special occasions - a lover, about whom of course my wonderful father has no notion whatever." Then, suddenly alarmed at her indiscretion, "But you must NEVER in any way let her know that I know, or that you do either. Promise me, Doctor J, that you will not even imagine her naked! I could not bear the idea of you thinking about her that way! And please promise also that you will keep these secrets!"

Jeff put on his most serious face and promised, cross his heart and all that. Zohra thanked him, then, fully recovered, rattled on. "Tell me please, Doctor J, explain it to me - just why do you think my poor little breasts, they're only half-grown or probably much less than half - EVERYTHING seems by halves in this business today! - why are they attractive to you? I do not understand!"

Jeff smiled gently and laid a thumb carefully atop each nipple, rolled them: lightning flashed between her ears. "There's one pretty good reason!" he said.

Her eyes closed, she bit her lip. Oh my! It was so clear that he knew exactly what this was doing to her insides! Knowing that he knew was disconcerting. He was SO far ahead of her in so many ways!

But he was saying something: "Lady Zo, you are a very attractive young woman, pretty and extremely sexy..." Zo tried to protest, but Jeff carried on, imitating her style: "You are NOT permitted to argue the point! I am an expert in this topic, and I can see you clearly from the outside, which you cannot. No arguments, okay?"

She nodded.

"Zo, any idea in your head that you are anything other than simply beautiful is NOT acceptable - it is purely idiotic, utter nonsense. In range of my hearing, please, you are NOT permitted to self-evaluate your attractiveness! Now then... about your boobs, and YES they are boobs already!" His thumbs drew more lightning from her nipples. "Half-grown breasts like these beauties of yours are temporary things, short-lived phenomena like frost on a window-pane, or a sunrise - achingly beautiful and delicate and gone tomorrow never to return. And in our society they are always hidden, never acknowledged. Girls find them embarrassing, men and boys are taught not to see them or react to them. Lady Zo, I find them exquisitely beautiful, and yours especially so. Beyond belief - I have wanted to see you like this ever since well before you started to grow them! And just in case you think I haven't been watching you, I'll bet I can guess within a week of the date you first noticed them changing. To say merely that you are sexy and that I find you so is a bizarre understatement. But Zo... you must know something else - and it's very important. Please?"

He paused, she looked up at him through the shower's deluge, held her tongue, waited. She wondered if he could see as deeply into her as she could into him? This sort of intensity with the eyes was completely unnerving. And utterly addictively wonderful!

"I love your body, absolutely everything about it - I think it is beautiful and would enjoy beyond measure being allowed to touch it and play with it and perhaps introduce you to some of the nifty things a man and woman can do to make one another feel good. But Zohra, what I am really, truly attracted to is inside HERE!" He tapped his forehead gently against hers. "Do you understand that?"

She shivered, and managed to squeak out "Yes, Doctor J. I think I do. I, too, like your body but it is your mind that I enjoy playing with, that I am attracted to most strongly. I would not have been able to say it so clearly, but YES, I agree and understand." Then, with an impish smile, she returned to being aggressive. "If you truly do like my itty-bitty BOOBS so much, then you may certainly touch them any way you wish. You already have permission to look, you may recall. I think I shall hereby make that permission a permanent thing: you have a permanent full license, unlimited, for both looking and touching. Certainly NOT a mere learner's permit!"

"You can return for another dose when you will, any number of times. I like having you look at me - which is very different from how I feel when MOST men and boys look - those looks I do not like at all but cannot avoid, which makes them even worse." Then, "Your thumbs feel positively delicious on my nipples, but I suspect you already know that! Of course, we can start the actual shampooing immediately if you would prefer..."

Jeff leaned forward, shifted a hand to her chin, tugged her lower lip downwards with his thumb. "Shush. Shampooing can wait a little bit. Follow my lead."

She set the shampoo down, nodded, her insides aquiver - here was Progress indeed, him taking command, an absolutely clear statement of interest! Not just interest but - she hoped! - intent as well. But a problem loomed: she had never been kissed! Not for real, not by her erstwhile boyfriend, and certainly not by a full-grown man. So just what was she to do? Follow his lead, he'd said. Okay then.

His tongue tip laid itself gently on the inside of her lip, explored. Lip, gums, teeth. Her belly did a whole series of flips and twists. He retreated, yielding the initiative.

She reciprocated.

Then, quite without conscious volition or choice, their mouths were wide open to one another. Why did his tongue feel so good as it explored hers, she wondered? What a strange, unnerving and wonderful sensation to have this warm foreigner, his lovely tongue, slipping about so lovingly between her cheek and gums, sliding into that special soft private space beneath her own tongue!

She nipped very gently at the visitor - it was NOT an intruder! - and it responded like a separate entity. Another mystery: howcome that delightful whirling-dervish tongue of his seemed to be directly connected down through her belly to the incredible pulsating wetness below?

Five seconds' experience, and she had dived into the kissing with huge enthusiasm and utter abandon, arms around his neck, devouring. Luscious: his mouth, an over-ripe peach? The perfect mango? Her entire soul and consciousness seemed to flow into her mouth, mingling with him. So this was what real kissing was all about!

And WHY, why, why -??- was he breaking off just when she was fully submerged?

She found out: he whispered "A small lesson, Zo. Hold yourself like this!" and put her hands behind her head, elbows flagged out to the sides. His tongue washed along the whole length of one forearm, the underside of her upper arm, through the hollow of her hairless pit, then down, down towards her nipple.

Before it got there he quit and did the other arm: this time his mouth settled where she wanted and hoped. Nipple trapped delicately between tongue and palate, he began to nurse. She shivered violently, a prolonged earthquake. She loved to explore herself, ice on nipples, fingers everywhere, and had tried to imagine for many months now (even years!) what it might be like to be touched all over without reservation by a man who knew what he was doing. But oddly enough her imaginings had never given her these belly flops, these swarms of goose-bumps, this gush of gooeyness down south between her thighs.