As I wrote in a previous narrative, two of my wife's straight-laced friends were visiting one evening and the conversation took some twists and turns and it all turned into a blow-job lesson, where I taught the friends some of the skills involved and they practiced on me, with my wife's blessing. It was fun and not awkward and after that evening, one or the other of Marlene's friends would drop by, as usual, and they'd sit around chatting and sometimes I'd join them, like we'd done for years. There was some joking around about the blow-job thing but though our friendships were changed forever we let it settle into the background. A few weeks after that particular incident one of the women, Lorianne, came over with an extra sparkle in her eye. Lorianne was the slender one with the acne scars, the relatively innocent one. She was not a head-turner but once you got to know her you realized she was quick and clever and her sexual waters ran deep, even if she did seem impossibly naive about some things. The naiveté came only from her vast inexperience and lack of confidence, and not from lack of interest.
I said hi and left the ladies to yickyack while I went out to the garage. I was trying to put new pickups on an old strat, and was making good progress an hour later when the ladies called me into the kitchen. Marlene, my wife, said, "Jacob, you ought to hear this. It seems you are a good teacher."
The wine bottle was half-empty, and there was a certain blush on the ladies' cheeks. "Tell him," Marlene said.
"Okay," Lorianne said. "I, uh, I got a chance to try out some of the things you taught me." You could see that, even with a rosé booster, this was a little difficult for her.
"Oh, really?" I said. "What happened?"
"Well there isn't much to tell. I went to a dance lesson at a new place, I didn't know anybody there but I had decided to learn the Lindy and that's what you have to do, you have to go out and try it. So I was dancing with this guy and I don't know, he was cute and I was in a mood. Well of course all I can think about these days is our lesson, I just keep going over it in my mind, wanting to practice and, you know, get good at it. And this guy was cute like I say, looked good in jeans, and sheesh I haven't done anything impulsive since I was a teenager but he asked me if I'd like to go get a drink and I said okay, and we never did get a drink, we just went to his apartment. I didn't even find out his name, and he didn't ask mine. And so, uh, I did get to practice a little bit."
"A little bit?"
"Yeah actually I wasn't there very long. We just got inside the door and I guess you'd say I jumped his bones."
"Poor guy," I said. I heard Marlene chuckle too. "Did he enjoy it?"
"I guess so. The next day I checked the newspaper and they did not report finding any dead bodies in that building, so I guess he revived. I didn't even say good bye."
"That's hilarious," Marlene laughed. "Just knocked him out and left."
"Yeah, pretty much," Lorianne said.
"Did he do anything for you?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"Well you know it's possible for a guy to go down on a girl, too."
"It is?"
"Yes," I said. "So I guess he didn't do that."
"I don't know," Lorianne said.
"You'd know if he did," Marlene said.
"He didn't fuck you or anything?" I asked.
"No, we didn't go anything like that. I pretty much pushed him back on the kitchen table and did what you showed me."
"The kitchen table?"
"Yes, it was just inside the front door. I didn't waste any time. It was a small apartment, you know. A studio, I guess. Boom, pushed him back on the table, boom pants down, boom on my knees, boom he shoots a huge load of stuff, boom I'm gone."
"I get the picture," I said. I felt very proud, of course.
"It didn't take too long," Lorianne said, "Just a few minutes, I guess. I loved everything about it. His thing was a lot bigger than yours, if it's okay to say that. But not too big."
Somehow that detail only made the story better. "I'm proud of you," I said. "Good job."
"At the end, it was like you said. I deep-throated him like you taught me and I thought maybe his eyeballs would pop out. It took about half a minute of that and he squirted everything he had right down my throat. It was a lot of stuff but I loved it." She looked guiltily at Marlene and at me. "I feel like a kind of addict or something now. I want more."
"You want more what?" I asked, mainly for the voyeuristic joy of hearing her say it.
"Jizz," she said. "Isn't that what they call it?" She gave a mischievous grin. "You didn't think you'd hear me say that, did you? Jizz. I have discovered I love jizz. I want more of it."
"That's one name for it." I had a hard-on, of course, listening to this. "And then you just left?"
"Yeah, he was out like a light. Honestly, he actually might have been dead. Which wouldn't have bothered me any. Even though he was a pretty nice guy. And cute."
Marlene asked, "Are you going to see him again?"
"No, I don't think so," Lorianne said. "The dance lessons weren't that good, except for him, and I don't really want a boyfriend or anything. I just wanted to see how it would be." She looked back and forth at us again. "I mean really, I just wanted to suck somebody's dick and see what would happen."
"You've created a monster," Marlene said to me, and we all laughed merrily but at the same time I knew my wife well enough to know she was picturing herself in Lorianne's story. doing something similar. Of course it would be hard for her to tell me if she did something like that. And, realistically, Marlene was too married to blow a stranger in real life, just for the fun of it. But not too married to think about it. Actually, I realized I didn't know. I kind of liked thinking it was possible, though the thought was also a little frightening.
"Did you feel like you knew what you were doing?" I asked, pedagogically.
