Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Carol is our only child. She was married to Mark, a wonderful man, who worked hard and made good money. They had given us two beautiful twin grandchildren, Eve and Steve, who were the center of our world. But while Carol and Mark were compatible in so many ways, Carol was frustrated with him. Sexually. He was a slam, bam, thank’ee ma’am kind of guy, who grabbed her tits a couple times, rammed it in and went back and forth till he came. Not what Carol wanted from the man she loved. She thought she could teach him, but he wasn’t able to hear that she had needs he wasn’t meeting. Her friends told her to take a lover, but she didn’t want to do that. So after five years of marriage she finally opened up to us, and that’s where we started.
Ellen and I were very compatible sexually, and hid nothing from Carol when she was growing up. Sex was a beautiful and natural thing and we celebrated our love for each other. More than once, Carol had walked in on us doing different things. We never got upset with her; we just explained what we were doing and why. And throughout our many years of marriage, Ellen taught me and I taught Ellen, so we knew what each one wanted. We read each other’s signals and knew how to respond. It was unusual for us not to have phenomenally wild orgasms together that Carol heard while growing up.
When Carol became a young woman, Ellen explained things to her, what women like, how they like them, what a man can do, how he can please her, how she can please him, and most importantly, to know what it was she wanted. And that might change from day to day, so on Monday she may want him on top, and Tuesday, she might want to be on top. Also, she taught her that sex wasn’t a competition as to who got their way, or who came first (or last). Carol learned these lessons well and had a healthy sexual appetite that we were pleased to see her satisfying with various young men. Ellen and I had been the same way till we settled down with each other at twenty one and twenty two (Ellen is a year older than I).
But while Mark was a wonderful young man, his abilities as a lover were just abysmal. After five years of trying, Carol was ready to give up, but she had the children to think of. And Mark was a thoughtful and caring father – and husband, if you didn’t count the sex problem. So Carol was stumped. She was horny as hell, and masturbation and toys did only so much. She wanted a man to touch her passionately, to want to make her moan and scream with pleasure, to eat her pussy and make her cum, and not just use her as a sperm dump, which is how Mark made her feel.
“Mom, I just don’t know what to do.”
“Have you considered an affair?” asked Eve.
“Of course!” she snorted. “I’ve fantasized about so many men when I masturbate I’ve lost count. But when I think of letting them know I’m available – I can just see the hurt on Mark’s face and I can’t do it.”
“Divorce?” I asked.
“I couldn’t do that to Evie and Stevie,” she said. They adore Mark, and he adores them, and he is so good to us a father and husband in every other way. So that’s out. That’s why I’m stuck,” she cried again.
Ellen said, “Carol, you must have some idea how to deal with this.”
Carol said, “I do, but I need Dad’s help.”
“What can I do?” I asked, wondering what she had in mind.
“Can you talk to Mark? Nicely, I mean?”
That would be hard. I tend to lose my temper quickly when I’m confronted with stupidity. I sighed. “I’ll certainly try,” I said. “But you have to let him know about it. I can’t just say to him, ‘Hey Mark, I hear you’re a lousy fuck’. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to listen to anything after that.”
Carol giggled. “No, that probably wouldn’t work. But I can tell him I want him to talk to you about it. He knows I’m unhappy sexually but he doesn’t know what to do about it.”
“That might work,” I said. “When should I do this? Call him on the phone?”
Ellen said, “How about if you bring the kids this Saturday for a cook-out and the men can talk while we play with the kids?”
Carol smiled, a big smile, and said, “Yeah, that’ll work!”
The next day was Friday. Ellen and I put together a menu of steak and hot dogs – the kids loved hot dogs – potato salad, beer, cole slaw, and fruit salad. We made the salads as we talked.
“Now Allen,” said Ellen, you have to be kind and patient. You know how men are.”
I smiled, remembering how hard it was for me to listen to her when we were young. “I sure do,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
“Explain to him that a woman is more than East and West Breastville and the Central Tunnel, will you?”
I laughed at her analogy, but a lot of guys I’ve known thing of women exactly like that. Just a highly decorated sperm-dump for them to masturbate into. And boy, is that wrong. So, so wrong. Sex can be so much better than that, and I feel sorry for the guys who never learn that, like Mark. And that was with Carol’s encouragement. So I was going to have to find a way to get him to listen to me, as an older, more experienced man, and not as Carol’s father.
Saturday afternoon came, and right on time, Evie and Stevie came barreling into the back yard squealing, “Gramma! Grampa!” We swept them into huge hugs and kissed then till they squealed with pleasure. Then they jumped down to run to the swing set we had for them. Carol went off with Ellen and Mark, leaving me alone for a few minutes, getting the barbecue going. Mark came back out with a beer for him and another for me. He sat down and said, “So Allen, how’s things?” He seemed a little nervous, so I realized that Carol must have talked to him. I knew no other way to handle it other than to dive in.
“So, Mark, Carol tells me that the two of you have a bedroom problem.”
Mark gulped. “Yeah, that’s putting it midly.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Carol said you might be able to help me.”
“I’d be happy to, but I don’t know how to help if I don’t know what the problem is.”
“Well,” said Mark, “It’s sorta hard to talk about, but it’s a sex problem. I love Carol so much, but I guess I’m a lousy lover. We get in bed, and we kiss, and I start, uh, touching her, and then I stick it in her and go at it till I cum. She says it’s not enough for her, but I don’t know what else to do for her.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Yeah, but I don’t get it. She asks me to use my mouth on her, uh, breasts, and I do, but she says I do it wrong. So then I don’t want to bother.”
I began to see the problem. “Maybe I should give you a blow by blow description of what Ellen and I do? Would that help?”
Mark looked uncomfortable. “I suppose,” he said as unenthusiastically as possible.
“OK, Mark, it goes like this. First question. What is the most sexual part of a woman?”
“Her clitoris?”
“Wrong! Her entire body! OK, the clit is probably the center of sexual feeling, but all roads lead to Rome, if you know what I mean. A woman can be turned on by a kiss on the lips, the neck, the ears, the eyelids, the nose, the shoulders – you name it. What counts is not where on the body you kiss her – what counts is that you are kissing her and you’re kissing her because you want her to feel good. Somehow she’ll know if you’re kissing her to make her feel good or if you’re doing it simply as a means to get her to spread for you. And if that’s what you’re doing, the kiss won’t do squat. So you need to decide to enjoy how you’re kissing her, and remember that’s why you’re kissing her. You want her to want you, and the best way for her to want you is to want her and to want to enjoy what you’re doing with her. Not to her, with her.”
Mark’s mouth was open. “I, uh, never thought of it like that before.”
“Well it’s time to start, don’t you think?” I looked at the barbecue. While I was talking the meat had finished cooking. “There’s so much more, that I think we need some more time to talk. In the meantime, I have some homework for you. When you get home, I want you to tell her what we talked about, and that you want to try it. I want you to kiss her like I told you, everywhere ABOVE the breasts. Leave her tits alone. Leave her pussy alone. Just kissing. And remember that a kiss is not a peck. It’s touching your lips to her, with just a swift touch of your tongue.”
“What if I get too, uh, hot?”
“That’s what Rosey Palm and her five daughters are for. Just keep your cock out of her pussy for now. Just kissing! And call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes.”
We went in and had a good time with the grandkids, but Mark was quiet and kelp looking at me and Ellen, and sometimes at Carol. After they left, I told Ellen about our talk, and we was hopeful that Mark would get the idea. Of course, it made us hot so it was a long time before we finally got to sleep.
The next day, Carol called in tears. Mark had given her a quick kiss on the lips and then was in the bathroom for an hour, masturbating, and he slept on the couch. This was clearly a bigger problem that we thought. This went on for a few days. I tried to talk to Mark, but he was too busy to talk. A few days later, they came over without the kids and said they had to talk with us. I was afraid they were going to break up, but boy was I wrong!
Carol and Mark were silent at first, and kept trying to talk, but just couldn’t seem to get going. Finally, Carol broke the ice. “Mom, Dad, Mark and I have been talking about his problem. Our problem, I guess I should say, since I can’t seem to teach him. His talk with Dad was good, but what he really needs is a woman to teach him.”
I suddenly realized where this was going. I looked at Ellen who was looking at me questioningly. I nodded my encouragement. I realized Mark needed an experienced and patient woman to teach him how to fuck, and that woman was Ellen. We had always been faithful to each other, but this was an unusual situation. And to be fair, the idea of Mark slamming that young rigid cock deep in her pussy turned me on like nothing had in a long time. I wanted to watch it happen.
I said, “So Carol, Mark, let me make sure I understand. Carol, you want Mark to have sex with a woman who is patient and experienced to teach him how to fuck. And the woman you want to teach him is your mother. And Mark, you want to fuck your mother-in-law, not just to fuck her, but so you can learn to fuck Carol better. Do I have this straight?”
Carol and Mark, both red-faced, nodded.
“If it’s OK with your mother it’s OK with me,” I said.
Ellen looked at Carol and said, “I have to admit I’m getting wet just thinking about a hard young cock, but how are you going to feel knowing that every time he fucks you well, he’s able to because your mother fucked him? That won’t bother you?”
“I don’t see why it should. If Mark can learn how to fuck me better then when we’re fucking I don’t care where he learned it from. I just want to be able to fuck him while he fucks me. But I do have one requirement.”
“What’s that?” asked Ellen.
“Well, two, really. One, I want to watch so I can encourage him in what I like. And two…once we’re done with the lessons…no more fucking him.”
“Carol! After I work hard to make him as good a lover as your father, you expect me not to enjoy the fruit of my labors?” She had a twinkle in her eye when she said that.
“Besides,” I said, “He can’t possibly become as good a lover as I am!”
Everyone laughed. It broke the tension, and we decided that there was no time like the present to get started. We went upstairs to the bedroom. We had a huge king-sized bed. Mark started taking off his clothes, but Ellen said, “Mark, wait! The first thing you need to know is the art of seduction.”
Mark said, “But I just want to know how to fuck better.”
Ellen shook her head with pity. “Mark, you’re a great guy, but what you don’t know about women could fill a bookstore. The first step to fucking is the feeling between the two. Fucking is not just stick it in, cum, pull it out. It starts with the feelings so that each one wants the other. So tell me. Why do you want to fuck me?”
“So I can fuck Carol better.”
“Jesus Christ, man, how stupid can you be?” I couldn’t resist.
Mark deflated, and Ellen shook her head. “Good thing he’s gonna fuck me and not you, dear. Patience, patience. OK, Mark, let’s try it again. Obviously your previous answer was wrong. Why do you want to fuck me?”
Mark just looked at her. He was dumbfounded. He had no idea what to say. Ellen smiled, and said, “Mark, how do I look to you? I mean, as a woman?”
I have to say that, even though she’s fifty, Ellen has pert breasts, B/C cup size, and an hourglass figure.
