Gretchen Mueller

At nineteen, hormones drove my entire life. Everything I did centered around sex and the possibility of getting some (any). I was a six-foot three inches, 190 pound, sandy haired, handsome devil, so I didn't have too much trouble in that department, but I could have gotten a lot more if I wasn't so inexperienced.

I had just graduated from high school and was working part-time evenings in a fast food joint when I found out one of the really hot girls I was interested in, had been accepted under a state sponsored program to go to a massage therapists school.

I applied for admission to the same school the next morning before I went to work. Mrs. Mueller, one of the instructors interviewed me and I was accepted on the spot. We started class the following Monday at 9 a.m.

The first week was boring as hell because it was spent in classroom work. We learned about most of the human body (except the parts I was mostly interested in) and the muscle structure (again omitting the most important muscle of all).

The second week things began to look up when I found that we were going to practice techniques on each other. Somehow, I got screwed and was assigned to Mrs. Mueller.

She wasn't all that bad, but not what I would call sexy. She was blond, in her mid to late 30s, married and had 3 kids, one almost as old as me. Mrs. Mueller was big, just under six feet tall and was at least 180 pounds of solid muscle with a slight Nordic accent.

Each two-person team was assigned a small private room, equipped with only a massage table, a straight chair and a wash basin.

The first session I had with her, she did me. The only thing I was wearing was the tight, bikini style, bathing suit that was the standard uniform for the male students. First, she did my back. She ran her hands up my legs into my crotch so many times that by the time she turned me over, I had a world-class hard on, so big that it stuck out the top of my bathing suit.

I was embarrassed, but she just smiled and said, "Ach, look at dat, I haff done good job. Thank you for der complement, now you do me, and see what you can do."

I was surprised when she undid her bathing suit top and took it off before lying down on the table. Her breasts were like the rest of her, big and firm. I tried to remember what they had taught us in class but the thought of those big bare breasts just a few inches away from my hands, coupled with my almost painful erection, made it difficult to think of anything except this large sexual object. I did her back and then her sides, as close to those bulging breasts as I could get.

I moved to her legs and was rewarded with a little satisfied sigh and a slight spreading of her thighs. Each stroke on her legs brought a little further opening. I copied on her what she had done to me by running my hands up into her crotch as far as I dared and soon noticed a damp stain had appeared in her suit. I took the bull by the horns, so to speak, and pushed my fingers deep into her crotch, hard against the spot. It was no longer damp, it was stopping wet. She gave a little moan, and opened her legs wider.

I stood there for a few seconds, wiggling my fingers against her pussy through the cloth until she quickly turned over and ran her hand down the front of my suit. She grabbed my, rock hard, cock with one hand and pulled down the bottom of her suit with the other.

"You haff done good," she said as she grabbed my head with her free hand and pulled my face into those wondrous breasts. I was sucking on a very firm nipple when she pushed me away and said, "Now, finish by showing me what else you know how to do, and hurry, class is almost over."

I showed her every trick in my 19 year old repertoire, including some things that I made up as I went along. From the groans and moans, I think I passed my first test. I know that Mrs. Mueller suddenly became my favorite teacher.

We were getting dressed when the bell rang. She grabbed the crotch of my bathing suit, and with a firm grip on my still hard penis said, "You are very good and have learned much, but I will teach you more. Plan to stay after class tomorrow and we will practice oral exercises."

The oral exercises were beyond my wildest dreams. We started the same way we had yesterday, but when she turned me over, she immediately pulled my bathing suit bottom down around my ankles and swallowed my cock. This was all new to me; I had never had a blow job before.

I looked down and could see the top of her blond head and my cock disappearing in and out of her lips. I was awash in a sea of sensations, for all intents and purposes, lost in the feelings that were being transmitted into my mind from my cock. It only took about two minutes for me to shoot a tremendous load of my sperm into her mouth. She looked up at me, smiled, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and said, "Ya, you taste good too."

She pushed the table against the wall, took off both pieces of her bathing suit and said, "Now, I show you what to do."

She sat on the table with her back against the wall and her feet on the edge. Her legs were bent at the knees and spread wide with her pussy completely exposed. She had me bring the chair over, place it in front of her and sit down. My face was on the same plane and directly in line with her pussy. I could see it seeping moisture through the forest of reddish-blond pubic hair.

I was at a loss. I had often heard the other guys talking about eating pussy but I had never tried it myself. She said, "Not to worry, I will tell you what to do and what is good. Now, put your tongue into me there and you will find a little hard knot. Ah, yes, that is it. Ouch, don't bite, just lick and stuck."

Step by step, she led me through the maze of female sexual preferences until I must have gotten it just right and she had an orgasm. I was surprised that I enjoyed the taste and enjoyed doing it to her. At 19 the only thing better than getting a blow job and eating pussy is fucking, so we finished off the session by having her lean over the chair while I stuck my dick into her pussy from behind.

I stayed after class every night after that. I learned very little about massage therapy but I learned a lot about sex and the female anatomy. By the end of the week I had gained immeasurable confidence but lost almost six pounds. For the first time since I could remember, my hormones were somewhat in check.

It was well after class on Friday and we were in one of the private treatment rooms. She was nude, bending over the chair and I was standing behind her, my cock lodged deep in her pussy, pumping away. My eyes were closed and my hands were holding her hips, pushing and pulling her back and forth. I was completely oblivious to her guttural moans and groans. She was cuming, or at least moaning so loud it was almost a shriek and I was on the verge of shooting my load into her. I could feel the familiar tingle that precedes climax when the door opened and there stood Mrs. Toope, the old prune that ran the school.

Both of us were too far gone to stop. I grinned at Mrs. Toope, but never missed a stroke. She slammed the door just as I unloaded into the soft, warm receptacle of Gretchen Mueller's pussy. Gretchen was in the throes of such an orgasm that I'm not sure she even knew we had been discovered.

Saturday afternoon there was a message on my moms answering machine that I had been dropped from the school and my tuition (which I he had only paid half) would be refunded.

I later found out that Gretchen had gotten a divorce, moved to Tampa and opened a massage academy that only took male students. She does all interviews herself. I understand she charges more than double the tuition of the other schools but there is a two-year waiting list for enrollment.

As for me, I attended a junior college before I joined the Navy. But that's another story.

30

Copyright © 01-05-2001 by E. J. Sheeran. All rights reserved. This work, in part, or whole, is not to be distributed, reproduced, transmitted or posted, in any manner, without the express written permission of the author.

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