This tale also takes place in that sadly very short, interval between the ready availability of the contraceptive pill and the outbreak of HIV and AIDS. It follows on directly from my lessons from Tante Marise and After Tante Marise.
So, Christeen was the second mature woman in my sexual history. As with Tante Marise, she had taught me a lot, most of it accidental. They both shared the same attribute, both loved sex, both were about fifteen years my senior and both just wanted some uncomplicated fun.
Before Christeen, I had never realised that talking dirty could be something a woman might be into, I'd always assumed it was a man thing and even then, not something to enhance sexual pleasure.
Christeen had cleared that one up for me. From the moment she admitted she liked it, her verbal encouragement had been totally obscene and, to my surprise, very stimulating. I had never before heard a woman say cunt, but then I had only had sex with a few.
The other surprise, to my young mind, was how open she was both verbally and physically. That cowgirl ride, when she leaned back exposing herself to me and encouraging me to rub her clit, had come as a bit of a surprise. A very welcome surprise, but a surprise none the less.
We were still years before the mobile phone, so we arranged to meet again the following week. She had suggested we go out for a meal and meet up in "our" bar. It was to be her treat and, to be fair, I wasn't about to object on my pay.
The week dragged by in anticipation of another lust fuelled romp and not a few reminiscences, for most of these the evidence, I have to admit, wound up in my handkerchief.
We had talked extensively after our romp, and I was surprised at her candour.
"Look, let's get a few things straight. As you would have guessed, even if I hadn't told you, I'm married and don't need complications."
"I figured as much."
"So, this has to remain between us, I don't want word going round the office that I put out for the boys, or that I'm cheating on my husband. For me this is just about scratching an itch, uncomplicated sex. Are you ok with that?"
I, of course, agreed. It couldn't have been nearer my own plan. As something of a non sequitur she continued.
"Do you know Judy in IT?"
"No," I replied.
"Well, Judy and I have been pals for ever, long before this relocation and we met up for a girly chat on Thursday. I'm sorry to say that we got a bit tipsy, and I let on rather more about last week than I intended to, because she has, what shall I say? A lazy, inattentive husband too."
Judy was a quite attractive brunette. She had a pretty face, framed by a hair style that I can only think of as a fringe and curtains. A pair of large round gold framed glasses completed the school mistress look, which I found a bit of a turn on. Her breasts were on the small side, but her bum was very alluring and definitely worth a second look when she sashayed down the corridors. All in all, she was an extremely attractive package. The phrase 'lazy, inattentive husband' got my attention, and I filed the information away for future reference.
I know it sounds awfully predatory, stowing away such personal details of work colleagues, but, in my defence, I was very young and at that age, a shag is a shag, and if both parties are up for it, then why not? I'm not looking for commitment and, let's face it, a divorce is not exactly number one on her agenda either. If the opportunity arises......
"Oh," I quickly countered, just to show I was still paying attention, "so you 'confided' in Judy then?"
"I'm afraid I may have let more information slip than I intended, but I really do trust Judy to keep it to herself."
"I'm sure she will, seeing as she's such a good friend." I said reassuringly, although, I have to confess that, knowing her husband was 'inattentive' was distracting me more than somewhat.
"What I'm saying is that she's the only one that knows, so let's keep it that way please."
"My lips are sealed."
"I bloody well hope not!" She quipped with a knowing look, "or I'm in for a dull evening."
We had a very enjoyable, if simple meal with a glass or two of wine, something I could not afford to do on my pay so a real treat, then we made our way back to her flat. When we arrived, I needed the loo so I asked and made my way to the en suite.
It was a quite surprisingly palatial affair, no bath, but one of those huge self contained shower cabinets with jets everywhere and the long wall was totally mirrored. Combine that with the subtle lighting and it had all the makings of a room to 'get you in the mood.'
Christeen had poured a couple of glasses of wine as I emerged, handed one to me as I commented on her bathroom.
"I know!" She said, "it's a bit over the top really."
"Not compared to Tante Marise's bedroom it's not."
"Oh? Go on, do tell."
I described her bedroom with it's huge four poster bed and mirrors everywhere. Which ever way you looked you could see reflections of the bed and whatever might be happening there. Christeen took it all in.
"Your Tante Marise, seems to be one very sexy lady. Very sexy indeed."
"And I haven't even mentioned the picture yet."
"What picture?"
"You probably won't believe me if I tell you."
"Go on, try me."
"Opposite the bed there is a life size painting of a reclining nude....
"The nude is Tante Marise, some years younger....."
"and everything is on view, I really mean everything."
"That's pretty sexy."
"But that's not the best bit. She has her fingers between her legs and is obviously masturbating."
"Good grief."
"And, what's more, judging by the expression on her face, she is having an orgasm at that precise moment."
"Fucking hell! Some aunt. But a painting?"
"Yea, uncle was a keen photographer and loved taking erotic pictures of her. This one was a particular favourite, so he took it to a local artist and commissioned him to paint a life size version. Then he hung it opposite their bed."
"Wow! Wonder what the artist thought?"
"Lucky uncle! I'd say."
The conversation drifted on as I recalled those heady days of my introduction to 'making the masturbations' as Tante called it when she introduced me to the delights of sharing a shower with her in that antiquated bathroom.
The eroticism of the conversation was obviously having an effect on Christeen because, to my delight, she stood, took my hand, and pulled me to my feet, then led me to the palatial bathroom. I couldn't help thinking that I knew what was coming.
"You are a very dirty young man.....
"And I fully intend to see just how dirty you can be."
She leaned forwards and undid the top two buttons of my shirt, then slid her hand inside and pinched one of my nipples as she kissed me. The direct line to my cock was obviously working because it stiffened instantly, just as her other hand reached down and stroked the front of my trousers.
"Let's get out of these things and see how dirty we get, trying to get clean." A nice turn of phrase I thought, so I obligingly stripped and stood there in all my naked, nineteen-year-old glory with my erection so stiff that the tip if my cock was nearly touching my stomach.
"Fuck!" Said Christeen, "that is one stiff cock."
