I didn’t know what Mik had been up to. He had been keeping out of my way for two weeks now, ever since ‘the incident’. The other week he was out for the whole day, and as we were not really speaking (my choice), I didn’t know where he was. I was seated in the lounge yesterday when Mik entered, placed a cup of tea beside me, and then exited without uttering a word.

I also noticed that his laundry was going in the laundry basket, not just scattered around his room. His window was now often open, and his room was generally tidier. His sock went into the laundry every day, just on top, so it wasn’t a sticky surprise for me to discover it. There had been quite a change over the last two weeks, a change for the better.

After 'the incident', I decided that I needed to teach Mik how to behave around women, but first, I would give him a little cold treatment. It wouldn’t be today; he was off for the day again. The cold shoulder was more or less going to come to an end soon, I had decided. Two weeks of the ice treatment was enough. I had just finished my coffee when the doorbell rang. After a quick check that I was decent – I never take it for granted these days – I went to the door.

“Hello Mrs M.” It was John, from the incident. He pushed a bouquet of flowers towards me.

“I needed to come and apologise for what happened the other week. I know that you may not accept my apology, but I need to say it anyway.”

“You had better come in,” I said, “and bring your flowers.”

Well, this was very unexpected. John had been the least forceful of the three friends of Mik’s, and I had guessed that his mum had been coaching him. I was pretty sure he had been shagging her, but I had cast him from my mind since ‘The Incident’.

In the kitchen I filled and turned on the kettle. We may yet be having a cup of tea; it depended on what he had to say. I looked at him questioningly, eyebrows raised, arms crossed across my chest.

"This is no excuse, I know, but Mik mentioned that you were interested in a sort of mini-orgy with lots of guys all at once." It was only when you stopped things and left the room that it occurred to me that Mik may have had it wrong. I wanted to come over the next day to apologise, but Mum advised me to leave it alone. She wasn’t too pleased with me; she said I should have checked with you first and not just taken someone else’s word for it.”

“Yes, your mum is right. How has your mum been with you, you know, since you told her?”

“She was a bit distant for a few days, and then we went back to normal.”

“I see. She started shagging you again then?”

He went bright red, and his eyes looked down at the floor. “No one is supposed to know,” he said.

“Especially your dad, I suppose. I worked it out; what makes you think that your dad won’t?”

“I don’t know. Mum makes sure that she goes with Dad whenever she has been with me.”

“That in itself could be a clue for your dad, especially if, as they got older, things in that area had slowed down. A sudden increase may be suspicious.”

“I don’t know; that is up to Mum. I can’t make any suggestions in that regard.”

“No, no, you can’t. Pass me the flowers; they are beautiful, thank you, and I will put them in water.”

He passed me the bouquet. I took the chicken shears from the drawer and chopped about an inch off the bottom of each stem. I took a vase from under the sink and filled it with water, added the flower food, and put the flowers in. I would arrange them later. I put them on the draining board for now.

“Would you like a cup of tea, John?” I asked.

“Please, if I may.”

I brought the kettle back to the boil and made us two mugs of tea. He shook his head when I asked him about sugar. “Just milk, please,” he said.

“Let’s sit in the conservatory,” I said. I didn’t want to go back into the lounge with him. Luckily Paul was off playing golf and wouldn’t be back until mid-afternoon.

John took his tea and followed me out into the conservatory. I sat on the single armchair; John sat on the sofa opposite. I made sure that I was decent and not showing anything untoward. I most certainly didn’t want to give him ideas.

“How did your mum help you, John?”

“Oh, well, er, she sort of complained about the mess I was making in the sheets.”

I laughed. “Yeah, Mik was the same,” I said.

“How did you stop him?”

“I gave him a sock.”

“A sock?”

“Yes, I told him to put it over his dick when he pleasured himself.”

“Oh. Crumbs. I would never have thought of that.”

“What did your mum do then?” I couldn’t imagine anything better than a sock.

He looked down at the floor, and then he sighed and looked at me.

“She told me that if I contained myself, she would help me out.”

“Contained yourself?”

“Er, yes, if I didn’t w… pleasure myself, then she would do it for me on Saturday morning when Dad was playing football.”

“Good grief.”

“So, I held off all week; it wasn’t easy, I was just hard all the time.”

“I can imagine. Mik was doing it several times a day.”

“Yup, so was I.”

“So what happened on Saturday?”

“After Dad had gone to play football, Mum called me into her bedroom. She was sitting on her bed.”

“Was she dressed?”

“Yes. She asked me to get undressed; otherwise, she couldn’t help me. I must be honest; I was a bit unnerved at undressing in front of Mum.

I smiled. It's odd how boys get so embarrassed but want sex at the same time.

“I took my clothes off, and Mum told me to come and lie on her bed next to her. My dick was just so hard and pointing up towards my chin. 'You do have a wonderful dick, John,' Mum said, you will certainly keep the girls happy. You will just have to learn to use it properly.' I said, 'Mum, I haven’t even used it once. I am over 18 and still a virgin.' She told me, 'Don’t worry, John, it’ll happen.'

"I kind of knew that it would, but it just seemed to be taking too long. I did have a girlfriend that let me touch her boobs and fanny, but when she saw my dick, she just said, 'No way.' I was too big. When I was at school, in the showers after games, I was bigger than most of the other boys.”

“Size isn’t everything, John,” I said. “It is how you treat the girl that matters.”

“That is what Mum said. Anyway, I lay on the bed, and Mum put her hands around my dick. I jumped, you know, and then she started w… masturbating me.”

“John, you can say ‘wank; it is allowed.”

“Well, she was squeezing my dick and moving her hand faster and faster. I didn’t last long, and I spurted everywhere, all over Mum’s clothes.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing. I picked my clothes up and said thank you to Mum and went to the bathroom to wash myself.”

“Did you manage to hold off until the following Saturday?”

“Yes. When I went into Mum’s bedroom, I was naked; she was also naked. ‘No point in saving the sheets to get it all over my clothes,’ she said. I couldn’t help it; I was just staring at her breasts and her fanny. I mean, they were right there in front of me.”

“Were they the first real live ones you had seen?”

“No, Mrs M, I had seen Geraldine's, you know, the girl who said I was too big, but, well, these were Mum’s. I wished I had my phone with me so I could take photos of her.”

“So, what happened?”

“I got on the bed and lay next to her. She said I could touch her boobs if it would help. Oh God, Mrs M, I was just about to die. I reached out and touched her boobs, and then I sort of squeezed her nipples. Mum sort of sighed and looked at me funny.”

“Oh, and call me Mica, not Mrs M.”

“Okay, Mica. I was playing with Mum’s tits.” I winced; I hate that word, so crude. “As I was playing with her tits, she grabbed my dick and started wanking me.”

“Nice. Please don’t say tits.”

“Oh, sorry, Mica, boobs. She was squeezing my dick as she wanked me, and then I almost died; she leaned forward and put my dick in her mouth.”

“Crikey, John, had there been any hint that she might do that?”

“No. I kind of froze; I let go of her boobs and lay back. I was gasping; I had never felt anything like it. I was pretty sure I was going to spurt, and I really didn’t want to spurt in her mouth.”

“I’m sure that would have been okay; that is often the intended result.”

“I didn’t know that, though. Just as I was sure I was going to spurt, Mum pulled back. She looked at me and said that what was going to happen next must never be mentioned to anyone.”

“Oh, it sounds like it was about to get interesting?”

“Mum moved so that she was over me; she lowered herself, and my dick disappeared inside her fanny. For the first time I was actually fucking a woman.”

'Well,' I thought, 'I don’t think you were technically doing that.'

“Virginity is gone, then, John.”

“Yes, Mum started moving back and forth quickly, and my dick was sliding inside her. I really couldn’t hold on, and my dick spurted inside her, and I gasped and grunted. I said sorry, and Mum said, “Don’t be sorry; that was what was supposed to happen.”

“So, you had finally done it, been in a woman’s fanny and cum. How did it feel?”

“It felt unbelievable; I wanted to do it again. Mum said no, that was enough for today; let’s see what next week brings. She sent me to go and have a shower. She did the same in her ensuite. I looked in the mirror; I looked the same, but I felt different.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About 3 months. Ever since then, on a Saturday when Dad goes to play football, I go into her bedroom, and she has been showing me all the different ways to do it, how to make a woman ready, and how to make her orgasm.”

“You are a lucky boy.”

“You have been with Mik, though?”

“Yes, but I am not going to discuss that today.” I stood up and looked at him; he almost seemed lost and very much out of his depth.

“Come on, you can show me properly what your mum has taught you.” I undid the sash on my tightly fastened dressing gown and pulled it open. “I am sure that you know what to do.” I walked out of the conservatory and then upstairs into my bedroom. Knowing I can be a screamer, I shut my bedroom windows. Just as I took my gown off, John came into my bedroom.

I pulled back the bedding and sat on the edge of the bed with my legs slightly apart while he undressed. I wanted to see what he would do; how effective a teacher had his mum actually been? His dick was big, but not as big as it was in my memory. Still larger than Mik or Paul, but manageable.

John moved to the bed and knelt between my legs and leaned forward. I closed my eyes and felt his breath as he blew along my crease. I felt a finger tease at the bottom of my crease, and as it circled my entrance, his nose found my nubbin, pressing and rotating around it. My breath caught in my throat.

Two fingers John eased into my fanny, twisting and opening it, forcing my fanny walls apart, relaxing them, and readying my fanny for what was to come. He didn’t speak; he kissed, he sucked and he fingered. I could feel waves of pleasure flowing through me, the pressure building, and I knew what was coming: his thick, long dick.

He pulled back, and I felt him move, and then his dick was sliding down my crease, pressing at my entrance. Slowly my petals parted, my fanny stretched, and John’s dick eased its way into me. My breath was held. My anticipation felt more intense than the actual experience. His dick stretched me and pressed at my depths, but it was a comfortable stretch; there was no pain or unwanted tension.

He eased back; I guessed my fanny walls were relaxing, trying to return to their usual state. As he pulled almost all the way out, my petals fluttered as if to draw him back in. He needed no drawing; he pushed, he pressed, and he entered me, his face inches from mine, our eyes locking onto each other. I began to lie back, John following, his dick pressed deep and firmly inside me. His rim appeared from behind his foreskin; he flexed his hips, his dick twitched, and my breath escaped me in a loud gasp.

He pulled back again and then thrust, his stomach slapping against mine, my grunt adding to the sounds of sex. Out again and then back in, he was picking up the tempo. He was shagging me at quite a pace; my breath was lost somewhere in my chest, his stomach slapping against mine. His balls bounced off my thighs, my breasts wobbled and jiggled on my chest, and my breath had stopped. I was staring into his face, unable to speak.

He moved faster. His dick penetrated as deep as I was; I couldn’t take any more, and then my pressures broke, my electricity sparked, my pleasures flooded me, and I screamed. My nails dug cruelly into his back, my heels scrabbled for grip on the bedroom carpet, and my mouth was open trying to suck in air. A flood of coolness filled my fanny, accompanied by a loud grunt from his mouth. He stopped moving, and then he thrust in once more, another spurt.

He felt like a fire hose inside me; I had never felt an ejaculation with such pressure. He lay still for a moment and then pulled back. My fanny felt empty; I just had a void between my thighs. I was gasping for breath, and so was John. He moved a little, and his dick fell from my fanny with a gurgle and a plop sound.

He stood up and reached forward with his hand. Taking mine, he helped me to my feet. He didn’t need to say anything, but he did. “Thank you, Mica; you are stunning.”

After John had gone, I went and stood in the shower, washing the perspiration from my body, sluicing out my fanny. I used cool water to try and help my fanny go back to normal; I knew that I would be shagging Paul later. I didn’t want an unusually floppy fanny to reveal my infidelity. John’s dick: I knew I had been well and truly shagged. I guess I had effectively accepted his apology.

After I dressed in simple knickers, a bra, a skirt, and a polo top, I took one of my hidden pairs of worn knickers and placed it under Mik’s pillow. He would know what to do with it. It was part of my programme of letting him think I was getting past ‘The Incident’. I wasn’t, not really, but I needed to teach Mik how to seduce and pleasure women, and I was his practice dummy. I didn’t expect Mik to return until sometime after Paul did.

After dinner, Mik tidied away and loaded the dishwasher. I asked him to set it to ECO and mouthed ‘thank you’ to him. We sat and watched the usual Saturday night rubbish TV, and about halfway through the dancing show, Mik said, "Enough," and headed up to bed. Paul snuggled in closer, his hand on my thigh. Yes, he wanted his usual Saturday bedtime treat. I would be happy to oblige.

In the morning we lay in bed and cuddled. I kissed Paul, and somehow his dick slipped into my fanny, my fanny still wet with his spunk from last night. It was slow, easy lovemaking; there was no guilt felt by me. John had been a sort of catharsis; I didn’t expect to see him again. Paul and I shagged; he came, and I pretended to – a small lie so often played out by us girls.

I got up and had a quick shower and a sluice. I put my dressing gown on, tied it tightly, and headed down to the kitchen. Paul would lie in bed for another hour or so. He would read the Sunday papers on his laptop. In the kitchen, I filled the kettle and put it on to boil.

“Morning, Mum,” Mik said tentatively as he came into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mik,” I replied.

“Can I have a hug?” Mik asked. “It has been ages.”

I closed the gap between us and put my arms out. Mik synched in and put his arms around me; I put mine around his back. I could tell that he was trying not to press his firm dick into my stomach; that was sweet. I pressed my breasts against his chest, allowing him to feel my femininity. I heard him suppress a gulp, and I smiled.

I pulled away.

“Tea?” I asked him.

“Yes please, Mum.”

I flicked the kettle on to bring it back to the boil. Mik passed me two mugs from the mug tree. I smiled to myself. I don’t know if it was my enforced isolation of him or whether someone had been coaching him, but I liked the new and improved Mik.

When...