This story follows directly on from Me and Mrs G Ch2
It must have been in the early spring of the following year that everything changed. Mrs G and I had had several very erotic encounters, usually prompted by her coming to my door late at night, with some ailment that only I could reach or cure.
So it was with considerable disappointment that when I got to work, one Monday morning, I found the envelope in my pigeon hole.
I opened the letter, fearing I'd done something wrong, only to learn of my promotion. Promotion is usually a source of rejoicing to a young man on a career path and, in some ways, so it was for me, only the new appointment was at Sizewell.
Sizewell is far from Seascale! This is going to mean the end of my time at Mrs. G's delightful Old Rectory, not to mention the introductory lessons in sex that she's given me.
Actually it wasn't really sex, we never actually 'did it', as we used to say back in those days, but we had explored each other's bodies with massage and baby oil, which always led to a climax for me and nearly always for her.
Not that we had frequent massages either, and as the days between sessions stretched out my frustration and anticipation grew together.
That first session where she asked me to massage her bum is burned into my memory for ever. I had become very turned on, and so had she, as she slipped her hand under her belly to 'touch herself'.
This was the most exciting moment of my young life. I was here, in bed, well on a bed actually, massaging the naked body of a mature and sexy woman who was, well, touching herself. She was taking herself towards her goal with her fingers between her slightly spread legs when my mouth took over and it had volunteered to 'help her'
As you probably remember, one thing led to another, and my fingers had explored my first vagina and she had given me my first oily hand job.
Although we didn't massage each other often, but we still talked about her books of sexual fantasies, and I found it very exciting talking to a mature woman about such things, so much so, that I often had to make an excuse, go to my room and relieve the tension manually!
Mrs G now felt comfortable talking to me about how she felt when I had touched her 'down there', we never used the word masturbate and, for my part, I had learned to control my excitement such that I didn't 'come off' as soon as she touched me.
However this was all about to come to an end with my move to Sizewell. No more sexy conversations over the cornflakes. No more discussing fantasies in the evening. No more massaging her delightful bum. No more sliding my eager young fingers over her downy red pubes and into the top of her cleft, in search of her pleasure button. And no more being 'brought off' by her oily hand.
When I broke the news to Mrs. G I thought I detected a look of sadness in her eyes, or was that just wishful thinking, my ego playing tricks on me?
Towards the end of the week we were discussing some fantasy or other and I know I had a raging erection. Nothing new about that, but she bowled me over when she said.
"Well if you are leaving so soon, we should have a very special night before you go."
A 'very special night,' my mind started to race. Whatever can she mean? Pulse accelerates to twice normal speed, mouth gets a little dry, and erection gets a little firmer.
The knowledge that I was going to be allowed to touch her again, the knowledge that she was almost certainly going to 'bring me off,' and that somehow or other it was going to be, in her words, 'special' was just so unbelievably exciting.
Eventually the knock at my door came. She entered. She's wearing the faithful white bath robe. The bath robe that has featured so much in my dreams, as well as in our massaging sessions. The bath robe that just screams at me, you are going to be having an orgasm soon.
Instead of coming over to my bed she stands, framed in the door way and says,
"Come with me."
I have no hesitation in getting out of bed. For a change I don't have an erection, but that changes half way to the door, fortunately it doesn't bother me nearly as much as it used to.
She took my hand and led me out into the corridor, turned towards the bathroom and continued.
"Tonight I want to be our very special night. Tonight is the night I want to remember you for."
She swung open the bathroom door, led me inside and turned on the shower. She stared into my eyes as she slowly undid the buttons of my PJ top one by tantalising one, and removed it.
"You first or me?" I heard, not understanding until she took my PJ cord in one hand and offered me the bath robe cord with the other.
"Together." Said my voice with a croak.
She pulled. I pulled. My PJs fell to the floor and her bathrobe did the same, aided by an almost imperceptible shrug of her shoulders.
We stood facing each other for a few seconds taking in the detail. Her lovely red pubes, my prominent erection, her gorgeous breasts. My excitement was at fever pitch.
We climbed into the shower together, sashayed round each other in the torrent of warm water, and I started to wash myself.
"No. Not like that. You wash me!"
This was my first experience of showering with someone else, and OK I was naïve, but I had no idea what to expect.
"Start with my back, just like our massages."
I did.
"And don't forget my bum."
I didn't.
"Now reach round and wash my breasts gently."
I did.
"Feel how much my nipples like that."
They were hard as little buttons.
"Now wash me 'down there'."
We always called it 'down there' so I knew exactly what she meant, and slid my soapy hand over the downy fuz that tried in vain to conceal her sex. It was all just so slippery, so sexy, so unbelievably erotic.
"Now it's your turn." As she moved round behind me, and started on my back. It was so sexy, being naked in a shower with a naked woman soaping my back and.......
"You've got a lovely tight little bum."
That just felt beyond erotic and I was beginning to wonder just how much of it I could stand. I wanted it to go on for ever, then soapy hands came round my front, onto my chest and I sensed her breasts and erect nipples sliding against my back.
"See, your nipples go hard too. Hard as little buttons. Are they sending signals to.....". She gently grasped my cock. "here?......
"Here, to this lovely stif cock......
"I think he needs a good soapy wash......
