The boy came to my door with a casserole dish to return and tears in his eyes. Twenty six years old, living two doors down, and his girlfriend of three years had just left him with the cruelest sentence a woman can say to a man. She told him he was sweet, and thoughtful, and terrible in bed. Terrible, tesoro. She said it like weather. And this sweet boy stood on my porch holding my empty dish like it was the last thing he knew how to do right.
I brought him inside. A boy in pain at my door is a boy who gets fed first. Mama's rules do not change just because the lesson is going to change.
Over pasta it all came out. Nobody had ever taught him anything. His whole education was rushing and apologizing. I reached across the table, took his chin in my hand, gentle, the way you hold something breakable that you intend to fix.
"Enough sorry," I told him. "You do not have a talent problem, piccolo. You have a teacher problem. And your teacher just volunteered."
Lesson one happened on my couch with his heart pounding through his shirt. I unbuttoned my dress, took his shaking hand, and placed it on my breast so he could learn what a woman's body feels like when it is not in a hurry. Then I guided him down, laid back on my cushions, spread my legs in front of this boy, and taught him how to eat a woman properly. Tongue flat, tesoro. Slow. Listen to me, not to your habits. I held his head and coached him like a maestro, a little left, softer, yes, right there, do not you dare speed up, while his tongue worked my clit and my pussy soaked his chin. When he made my legs start to shake I pulled him up by the hair and kissed my own taste off his mouth. "You see?" I told him. "She never taught you. That is not the same as you being hopeless."
Lesson two, I put him inside me. I straddled him right there on the couch, sank down onto his cock slow so he could feel every inch of a real woman taking him, my dress around my waist, my tits in his face, and I narrated the whole class while I rode him. This pace, piccolo. Feel how I squeeze you. This is what a woman does when she is close, watch my face, listen to me. I rode him long and deep, my hands on his shoulders, his hands gripping my ass like the lesson might escape, and when my orgasm rolled through me I made sure he felt every pulse of it around his cock so he would know, forever, exactly what he had done right. Then I leaned into his ear. "Now. Show the teacher what you learned. Hard, and do not apologize." He flipped me onto the cushions and fucked me like a diploma depended on it, and it did.
He has a date next week with a new girl from his office. He asked if he could come back after and report. Mama expects a full report, and dessert.
So let me ask you, tesoro. Has some woman made you feel small for not knowing what nobody ever taught you? Or are you just a man who wants a real mommy to open her dress, put your hand where it belongs, and train you properly with her body? I give private lessons on PhoneBuckFuck, a dollar a minute of mommy phone sex, and my students graduate very, very satisfied. Come hungry, piccolo. Mama will feed you first, then she will fix you.