The Bridge Club Ch. 06

Abigail's sexual education became a priority for both of us. Once she discovered that she wasn't "bad" at sex, Abigail became intensely curious about sexual positions and activities which she had yet to try. She still couldn't just come out with it, or say 'Let's do this'. But she started asking me 'Have you ever ...?' If the suggestion came from me, she was more than ready to try it.

I had achieved my goal with Abigail. But I wasn't about to just dump her. Her fragile new confidence would be shattered. I also wanted Abigail to discover what worked for her, what turned her on. And, of course, how she could get a future lover to do those things to and with her.

So ensued a period of experimentation. I became the sensei in a small, private, sex dojo, with only one student. As Abigail's teacher, I quickly learned what turned her on. She liked to be told what to do. No humiliation, no degrading acts, and certainly no pain. This was ideal, because I wasn't into any of those things, either.

But she loved it when I ordered her to come over to my place, and stipulated what she should or should not wear. No panties became a clear favorite. When she arrived, I would order her to blow me just inside the door. Or I would sit on the couch and make her perform a striptease for me. I would praise her for those moves which were effective, but I would also tell her to start over if I wasn't particularly aroused.

She became a proficient lap-dancer, but not very inventive. She would repeat the moves that had worked for her before, but wouldn't come up with new ones unless I described them.

I tried tying her up with a couple of old neckties, but that didn't do much for either of us. Fucking her on the balcony of my apartment was also no big deal for Abigail. She wasn't excited by the possibility of being caught. I enjoyed it considerably more than she did.

If it sounds like I had a sex slave ... well, keep in mind that the goal was to help Abigail overcome her fears. She thought that she was lousy in bed, and that her squirting was freakish. I worked hard to cure her of those delusions.

We discovered that reverse cowgirl was not her best position. She didn't mind being on top, if I was directing her movements. But she adored doggy style, spooning, and even being bent over any available piece of furniture and taken from behind.

In the middle of her education, we had a bridge night, this one hosted by Christina. I was very curious to see what her place looked like. Once I could move on from Abigail, I would be able to start wooing Christina, and I needed all the information all I could get.

Christina shared a modest townhouse with her sister (who was conveniently away for the weekend). Beth let slip that the sister was a bit 'wild'. Christina was the responsible one, and paying the entire mortgage by herself. She had good taste in art, on a slender budget. I was particularly interested in the scope and contents of her bookshelves. Christina had quite a few books, from classic novels to philosophy, art and history.

She saw me studying her books. I had my finger on the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam when I heard her speak.

- "Have you read it?" she asked.

- "No. Always meant to, though."

- "You can borrow it, if you like." she offered.

- "Really? That's great. I will."

Abigail was very discreet. She didn't hang on my arm, or throw lingering glances my way. I wasn't sure why, but I was glad of it. Not that our relationship was a secret: these girls talked.

Beth was my partner for the first game, against Massimo and Christina. Beth and I worked well together, while they were like a houseboat and a kayak. Massimo was trying to flirt with both girls at the same time. It didn't seem to be working.

For the second game, I was paired with Jake against Massimo and Carmen. Massimo just kept flirting, this time with his new partner. He was shameless. Carmen didn't seem particularly impressed, either.

We took a break after that match. Beth came over to me.

- "Well, someone seems to have regained her confidence. I wonder what happened? You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

- "I have no idea what you mean." I answered, trying to look innocent.

Beth laughed out loud.

- "Besides," I said, "a gentleman never tells."

- "The hell they don't!" said Beth. "Or maybe I just don't know very many gentlemen. Seriously, though ..." Beth leaned closer, and lowered her voice. "Have you noticed her bidding? Her card play?"

- "No, I haven't been at the same table."

- "Watch her." suggested Beth. "She's bidding quicker. Less hesitation. And she's smiling. Whatever you're doing, it's working."

In the final game, Darren and I played Carmen and Christina. With two beautiful women at my table, I wasn't about to stare across at the other players. But when Darren played a bid for us, I got up to refresh my drink. I listened to the bidding at the other table. Beth was right; Abigail was taking less time, and looking more confident.

I rewarded my pupil's performance by taking her home after bridge. I pinned her to my bed and ate her out until she gushed all over my sheets. Then I put her legs up, with her ankles around my ears, and fucked her hard. I was merciless, slamming into her repeatedly, my balls bouncing off her ass cheeks. I pulled out at the last second, and came all over her tits and stomach.

Abigail helped me clean up, then snuggled close and fell asleep in my arms. All on her own initiative.

*****

Massimo challenged me to a game of squash. He had news for me, too.

- "I banged Carmen again." he said. "So we're all even. Two-two. I heard you fucked Abigail, even though you didn't say anything."

The Scott factor hadn't lasted very long. Ah, well - no harm done. Unbeknownst to Massimo, I had invited Abigail to come to the fitness club. I also told her who I was playing squash with.

As we were warming up, I glanced up at the glass-covered visitors' gallery. Sure enough, Abigail was there. And she had taken pains with her appearance. The girl looked awesome. To my surprise, though, she wasn't alone. She had brought Christina along for company. Or moral support? Even though Abigail was dressed to kill, I thought that Christina looked even better, with minimal make-up and casual clothing.

Massimo noticed them, too. He waved. Nothing would please him more than to humiliate me in front of my 'girlfriend', a woman he had banged and dumped, while simultaneously impressing the girl he was planning to seduce.

But I had other plans. I had been playing regularly, especially with the two guys ahead of me on the squash ladder. They kicked my ass, but I learned a few useful tricks and honed my game. I was ready for Massimo.

I'll give him his due: Massimo played hard, fuelled by testosterone and machismo. He also bent the rules every chance he got. He ran me over twice, and crashed into me multiple times, yelling "Let!" just before impact. He hammered his shots extra hard, trying to impress the girls in the gallery.

None of it mattered. I won the first game, and both of the subsequent 'rematches'. He got more and more frustrated, and even hit me with his racket - accidentally, of course.

He showered and left after the game, claiming that he couldn't stay. That was fine with me. I took the girls for a coffee.

- "You were good." said Abigail. "Did you do that for me?"

- "You seemed to be enjoying yourself." added Christina.

- "I was."

We talked about squash, the fitness club, and Darren. Then Christina asked me about Omar Khayyam.

- "What do you think of him?"

I had been reading the book. "I was surprised. I knew that he was a poet, and an astronomer. But he wrote about mathematics, philosophy - even music. He was a Renaissance man."

- "Three or four hundred years before the Renaissance." said Christina.

- "He was Persian. Is that where your family is from?" I asked. "Iran?"

- "No. My parents are from Algeria. I was born there."

- "Ah, Algeria." I nodded. That explained her complexion, and her exotic looks, which I was finding more appealing by the minute.

- "You've been to Algeria?" she asked, surprised.

- "No - sorry. I didn't mean to give that impression. Closest I've ever been was Morocco."

- "Pretty close. I've been there, too." said Christina. "Did you enjoy it?"

- "Very much." I said. "Marrakech was interesting, but my favorite spot was Essaouira, on the coast."

- "You and Jimi Hendrix." she laughed. "Cat Stevens liked it, too."

- "Don't forget Orson Welles." I added. He filmed Othello there in the 1950s. That random thought - Othello - made me think of Carmen, and the theatre adaptation I had subjected her to. From Carmen my thoughts shifted to ... Abigail. She was sitting there patiently, listening to me discuss Persian philosophers and Moroccan seaside towns with one of her friends.

Seeing Massimo go down to defeat should have been a pleasant moment , but I was neglecting her. I tried to make amends, and change the topic of conversation.

Christina had brought her car, so she drove herself home. I took Abigail back to her place. It might have been that I was tired out from the squash game, but I didn't have a very strong urge to have sex with Abigail. So we talked for a while.

- "That was very nice of you, Norm - to invite me to watch Massimo lose. But Christina was right: you enjoyed it, too."

I had to agree with her on that one. Then Abigail caught me completely by surprise.

- "You have a crush on her, don't you?"

There was no answer to that. I was completely lost for words.

- "H-how ...?"

- "How long have I known? From the beginning, I guess. That was why I wasn't so keen to go out with you in the first place. Or did you mean 'How did I know?' It wasn't that difficult, Norm. The way you look at her is a dead giveaway."

This was not the conversation I had been expecting. "Abigail, I ..."

- "Don't worry, Norm. I've known all along what this was. You just wanted to help me get over Massimo. And then you realized that I had some ... sexual issues, and you wanted to help me with that. You became my teacher. My sex instructor. Sure, I was crushing on you, but it's not like I was expecting a long-term relationship."

She reached out and put two fingers under my chin. Then she lifted up, to help me close my mouth, which had been hanging wide open.

- "I may lack confidence, but I'm not stupid, Norm. I will always be grateful for the way you helped me out. Now I know what kind of guy I want: dominant, but gentle and kind. And I may even be able to tell him what I like, in bed."

- "I don't know what to say, Abigail."

- "No need to say anything, Norm. We can still go rock-climbing, or play squash, if you want. But I don't think any more sex is a good idea. We'll still be friends, if you want. And we can play bridge. I think I'm getting better at that, too."

In that moment I had more respect and affection for Abigail than I had had when we were having sex. She had depths that I had never imagined.

She kissed me on the cheek, and smiled at me. Then she turned to go. But she stopped at the door.

- "Good luck with Christina. I'll be rooting for you two."