Mar 30

Discreet Encounters – Class is Out

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‘Discreet Encounters’ the card stated in an elegant typeface. ‘For those times when a woman needs a man for company’. My forename and a mobile telephone number completed the message and a silhouette of an embracing couple made sure there could be no misunderstanding of its meaning.


When I started out in my new role in life, I had fondly imagined that the majority of my clients would be career-women who had sacrificed relationships on the altar of business success or unhappily married or otherwise unsatisfied women in their mid-lives, seeking male company before sex completely passed them by. It wasn’t long, though, before this idea of my likely clientele was completely disabused. One of the contacts that contributed towards this in a big way was from Barbara, a teacher in a well-known all-girls college. To say that her proposition was a surprise would be typical British understatement.

As tutor to one of the sixth-form classes, Barbara was expected to look after the pastoral care of her students as well as their education. At 28, she was only ten years older than her students and so they tended to look to her more as an elder sister than the mother figure that a lot of the other teachers resembled. This was certainly true when it came down to sex. Many of the students felt that Barbara was someone they could turn to with their problems and questions.

The problem was that the law limited the way in which she could help with these problems. For example, if a girl wanted to talk about the problems she was having in reaching a climax when she masturbated, the sensible answer might have been for Barbara to say ‘Show me how you’re doing it’. However, teachers who stepped over the line in this way with those in their care faced the sack and the possibility of being sent to prison.

A small group of the girls met with Barbara once a week and had very open discussions about sex and related issues. Because of the sensitivity of the situation and because not her students were interested in participating, these sessions were only open to a specially invited group. Even so, Barbara had to be quite clear with these girls that while she would like to help them more than she could, the sessions had to be limited to discussion. However, she did explain that once the school year had finished and all the girls had turned 18 and had left school, the restrictions would no longer apply. At that point, she would be happy to arrange a weekend away for any girls who wanted to take advantage of an opportunity to move things onto a different level. The idea, she explained, would be to help the girls get to know their bodies better and to reach a greater understanding of their sexuality.

She expected that four or five of the girls would want to take part.

It had also been her intention for her boyfriend, Dave, to join the group to help her deal with aspects of the male anatomy and sexuality. However, a couple of weeks before the weekend was due to take place, Barbara discovered that Dave had been having an affair with one of her best friends and the relationship was off. That left her with a problem. She didn’t want the weekend to be an all-girls affair – she needed a man there too. Even in this day and age, she was acutely aware that a lot of girls had little real understanding of men’s bodies.

That’s why she had called me. She had heard of me and wondered if I would I be prepared to step in? Needless to say, I was intrigued by the idea but I wanted to know more before I committed myself and we both thought it would be an idea to meet up to discuss it further.

Barbara had rented a house for the weekend in a suitably isolated location so that the girls could be as uninhibited as possible. She hoped that if the group spent much of the weekend mixing together naked, it would help them to shake off their concerns about body image.

‘I can’t remember having so many body phobias when I was their age’, she said to me. ‘We only seemed to worry about out tits being too small and our bums too big. Now their concerns are much more intimate.’

Spending the weekend naked wouldn’t be compulsory, of course, but she hoped that most would participate without making any who chose not to feel awkward. She wanted the girls to get to know their own bodies better and to be able to appreciate the sheer variety of the female form – and to understand that there was no such thing as a ‘normal’ body.

As for my part, I was to be naked the whole weekend so that the girls could get used to being in the presence of a naked man – and have a naked man looking at them with no clothes on. The girls would be free to look at and touch me in any way they wanted but it would be up to each girl whether she allowed me to get close up and personal with her.

‘What about actual sex?’ I asked her.

‘Let’s just see what happens’, she said. ‘Nothing might, but I’m sure some questions are bound to arise that could best be dealt with by a “practical sınırsız escort demonstration”. If that happens, you and I will provide the demonstration.’

Beyond that, Barbara realised that some of the girls might want to participate further. She had no objection to that and, in fact, she thought it would be good for them. The first man to take her had been a much older man. He had been very good indeed and she had never regretted it for a moment, except that he had spoiled her for some of her later, less experienced lovers.

Other than that, she planned to let the weekend simply follow its own course.


It took me a few moments to take all of this in. I was to spend a whole weekend naked in the company of an attractive 28-year old woman accompanied by four or five 18-year olds, most of whom would probably be naked too. A weekend that was to be devoted to talking about sex and was bound to result in a high state of arousal in all concerned. And I might well be performing sexually in front of the girls – possibly even having sex with a couple of them, too, if my judgement was anything to go by.

Visions of young, warm, wet mouths encompassing my cock flashed across my mind, followed by thoughts of tight near-virginal pussies opening for me. Not to mention a teacher who had just split from her boyfriend and might well be ready for a good fucking. It sounded rather idyllic.

There was no question as to whether I was willing to participate – indeed, that rather seemed to have been taken for granted.

‘I suppose I ought to insist on at least an inspection, if not a trial’, Barbara added, ‘but that seems like cheating. You’re going to have to take your chances on what the five or six of us are like so it’s only fair we should do the same with you. And you probably wouldn’t be in this line of work if you didn’t stack up. That just leaves the question of your fee – you don’t offer educational discounts, I suppose? Just think of all that nubile young flesh awaiting you!’


The planned location for the weekend turned out to be just beyond the London suburban fringe – hardly remote I thought, but when I got there I found it was a beautifully restored ancient house in an isolated woodland clearing and accessible only by a mile-long rough track. We were certainly unlikely to be disturbed except by any passing wildlife. In the end, there were seven of us – me, Barbara, and five girls. I was comfortable with that. Any more might have made for hard work.

There was one double bedroom, which Barbara had reserved for herself – and me – of course. There were three other rooms, each with two single beds. The girls divided themselves between them without fuss. The lounge had an enormous fireplace and, as the weather was a touch on the cool side despite it being early summer and, the girls set to and eventually – not without a fair bit of fuss – got a blazing fire going. Presumably they were thinking about us all soon being naked.

The five girls were Emily, Sophie, Alice, Lucy and Makena. Makena was a gorgeous, statuesque girl of African origin, who, I soon discovered, came from Kenya. The other four ranged from Alice, who was short and petite but with heavy breasts, to Lucy who was a more substantially built but nicely-curved girl with red hair, very pale skin, and tiny breasts.

The increasing warmth was the signal for us to gather round in a circle and undress. Barbara and I, of course, stripped off completely. I noticed that the girls paused in their undressing as the two of us got down to our final garments. It seemed that they were as keen to see the slightly older woman’s body revealed to them as they were mine.

Barbara had a sweet, oval-shaped face with blue eyes and a full, smiling mouth gave her immediate appeal. Fair hair tumbled down past her shoulders resting on the upper curves of nicely rounded breasts mounted high on her chest. They were tipped by taut, mid-pink nipples. A neat waist and hips, framing a flat stomach, led down to a pair of long, slender legs. She was completely shaved, revealing a long tight slit between her thighs, with the merest hint of her clit peeking out at its top point. All in all, her lovely firm body hinted at a regular exercise regime. I have to say that I was looking forward to getting to grips with it.

Emily, Sophie and Alice quickly removed all of their clothes and, in unison, threw their panties across the circle in my direction as they removed them. All three then did a twirl, brazenly displaying their bodies for my benefit. I found it hard to believe that they hadn’t planned and rehearsed that little routine. Lucy and Makena removed their bras – not that either particularly needed them – but both decided to keep their panties on.

Barbara and Sophie then went through to the kitchen. To save time, Barbara had brought a large pot of goulash that she’d prepared at home and the two of them put it on to heat up while they taksim escort readied a pan of rice. It wasn’t long before they set out seven steaming plates of food on the table. I found myself sitting between Barbara and Alice; the latter did her best to make her heavy breasts sway on her slender frame as she ate, as if trying to attract my attention. At one point, her hand slipped across onto my lap and gently rested itself on my cock. I could feel myself hardening as her little hand closed around it. Barbara immediately reached across and removed it.

‘There’ll be plenty of time for that tomorrow’, she chastised the girl. ‘We don’t want anyone jumping the gun.’

‘No, miss, sorry miss’, Alice replied in a mocking tone. ‘I hope you’ve got a nice big bolster to go down the middle of that nice big double bed tonight then. We can’t have any guns being jumped during the night, can we?’

Barbara scowled at her. Fortunately, it was all in good humour.

The evening went well. There was no TV set in the house – Barbara nearly brought one from home but she realised that might lead to squabbles as to what to watch so she sensibly decided against it. However, there were a couple of packs of playing cards and various other games, as well as books, and very soon we were all settled around the fire amusing ourselves in a way that was much more convivial than watching TV.

It was soon clear that the girls were dividing into two groups – the three who were completely naked and who were quite clearly showing off their bodies, and Lucy and Makena who were more reserved. Barbara had spotted this and the look on her face suggested that she would want to deal with it first thing in the morning. The need for that became even more apparent when, before bedtime, the group of three changed the sleeping arrangements, moving a bed from another room so that they could all share one bedroom.

Barbara was already in bed by the time I went upstairs. I had been accosted by Alice as we passed outside the bathroom – her hand once more strayed to my cock and took hold of it.

‘Guess what I’ll be dreaming about tonight?’ she said. ‘I hope I’m going to get it inside me at some time over the weekend.’ Then, giving me a saucy peck on the cheek, she dashed into the bathroom herself.

‘Leave the bedroom door wide open’, Barbara said to me. ‘Best behaviour tonight. That’s the rules and I want the girls to know we’re sticking to them.’


The next morning we gathered for breakfast, as naked as we had been the previous evening. It was my turn, aided by Emily and Lucy, to cook. It was hardly a healthy breakfast but a traditional one. Fortunately, the house did have a dishwasher so, once we had eaten and cleared away, we were able to settle down to the business of the day. Barbara set the lead.

‘Right, I want to go round the room and I want each of you to tell us what each of you like and don’t like about your bodies. I want you all to be as honest as you can – that’s what this is all about. Let’s start with you, Sophie.’

Sophie had short, light brown hair framing her pretty, blue-eyed face. Her breasts were on the smaller side of medium and pointed in shape, tipped by tight little nipples that I would have loved to take into my mouth. A narrow strip of pubic hair ran down from her firm tummy to the top of her slit – a slit that opened readily as soon as she parted her legs to reveal a small clit and inner lips.

‘Ok’, she said, a touch tentatively. ‘My nose is too big, I hate the freckles on my cheekbones, and my behind is too big. I wish my legs were more slender, too, more like Alice’s and Makena’s. My calves are too muscular and they make my ankles look spindly. I love my breasts and my nipples – they’re so sensitive and I think they’re pretty. I love touching them and holding them. I like the fact that my tummy is so firm. I think I’ve got a rather neat pussy too. I hope that a lot of men will think so too.’

She was sitting opposite me and took the opportunity to spread her legs a touch more to emphasise the point for my benefit.

‘That’s good, Sophie. Interesting, though, that you went through all the negatives first. I wonder if you’re all going to do that.’

‘No, we aren’t.’ It was Makena who interrupted.

‘Go on then, Makena.’

‘I love my body. I love the colour of my skin, I love my slimness, and I love my long legs. My breasts are small but they match the rest of me and I’m lucky that my nipples and areola are naturally so dark that they help to make my breasts look a bit bigger. I think I’ve got lovely eyes and a smiley face. It would be nice to be able to do a bit more with my hair and my bum’s a little rounder than I’d like but both those things come with my genes. That just leaves one thing.’

She paused and seemed reluctant to continue so Barbara stepped into the silence.

‘Go on, Makena, you’re among friends. Does it have something to do with the reason tesettürlü escort you’re still wearing your panties?’

Makena nodded.

‘I’m cut.’

A look of shock came over the faces of a couple of the other girls who had realised what she had just said.

‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ Sophie needed to know.

‘Yes, I’ve been circumcised.’ Makena looked round at the group – clearly one or two still didn’t understand what she was telling them. ‘I don’t have a clitoris. It was removed when I was young, back in Kenya. It was traditional to do it and still is, even though they’re trying to stop it. My inner lips too. I just have an open hole between my legs leading straight inside. And I can’t ever have an orgasm – but at least I wasn’t sewn up like many women are.’

Makena’s head hung down, her eyes looking down at her lap. I could tell that she was very nearly in tears.

The room fell totally quiet. No-one had a clue what to say until Lucy broke the silence with the simple question ‘why?’

‘Tradition,’ Makena replied after some thought, ‘coupled with a lot of ignorance and superstition. I know people think it’s a religious thing – you know, the Muslims – but that’s not the case in Kenya. It goes on in the Christian community, too – like mine. It’s seen as a rite of passage into adulthood. An uncut girl is considered to be sexually promiscuous and not marriageable and will bring shame and stigma on her people. Without a clit, there’s less temptation for a woman to stray – or so they say. And, of course, a lot of our men have a reputation for straying too. A woman with a clit who can orgasm and who really enjoys sex isn’t something that many wives appreciate. They’re a threat.’

She glanced around the room to see what reaction she’d created.

‘There’s masturbation and lesbianism too; they’re both frowned upon. It’s also a question of sexuality and aesthetics; the uncut clit and labia are regarded as ‘men bits’ and unclean. Some people say that if they’re not removed they will grow into a penis. Some people even believe that if a man’s penis – or a baby being born – touches a clitoris, it will be poisoned. And, incidentally, the male foreskin is regarded as a ‘woman bit’ which is why it’s always removed.’

‘When was it done to you?’ Alice asked. I wasn’t sure she really wanted to know but she couldn’t stop herself saying it.

‘When I reached puberty – I was 12. That’s about usual in my community, though some girls don’t have it done until they’re about 18. I was fortunate. My parents were well off so I had it done in a proper clinic and I was anaesthetised but a lot of people think that anaesthetic takes much of the meaning out of the ritual – bearing the pain is seen as an important part of it.’

It was Emily’s turn to ask. ‘Don’t answer if you’d rather not, but can I ask you how you feel about it?’

‘It’s curious,’ Makena replied, ‘but back home in Africa it’s just something that happens and you accept it. Many women are actually proud to have had it done, even immediately after the operation. Lots of women are afraid of their sexual impulses – they’ve been brought up to see them as something shameful and likely to get out of control. The stupid thing is, though, not having a clit doesn’t stop you getting horny – you just can’t do anything to relieve it.’

She paused briefly, obviously thinking about her own experiences.

‘In contrast, women who move to the West start to see themselves as having been mutilated and think about what they’re missing. They find themselves in a culture in which sex is seen as something wonderful and orgasms are to be enjoyed by men and women alike. It can cause a lot of family rifts because women blame their parents for having had them butchered – but family is important to us. But how do I feel about it? Does it matter – there’s not a lot I can do about it, is there? Feeling sorry for myself won’t make my clit grow back again.’

The whole room fell quiet.

‘That was very brave, Makena’, Barbara said at last. ‘As I said, you’re among friends here. And can I just say that you’re especially brave coming along here this weekend knowing that it might be very difficult for you? I’m glad you did, though.’

Barbara looked round the room, deciding who should speak next. Whoever it was, they weren’t going to have an easy task. She solved the problem by picking me.

‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘but I’m going back to dealing with the negatives first. My hair’s neither one thing or the other – it’s either all over the place or it’s plastered down on my scalp. I also think that my nose is too big and my ears are lopsided – one’s much bigger than the other, though no-one’s ever told me they’ve noticed. But that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Things that we worry about that other people probably don’t even notice.’

‘Precisely,’ said Barbara, ‘and you haven’t even moved down below the neck yet.’

I smiled at her and continued. ‘It would be good if the upper half of my body was a bit more toned and muscled. Unfortunately, the sort of exercise I enjoy – and I mean proper exercise rather than bedroom romping – doesn’t seem to give me that and certainly doesn’t produce a six-pack. My thighs and legs make up for it, though.’

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