Teaching Chantelle Ch. 00

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[MF, background conversation but no sex]

Tag: It was only a car ride…

This prologue gives you the background of how my friend Chantelle and I met, and about some of the conversations we had over the years where got to know each other VERY well. This set the stage for our later play, and it’s true, but the prologue has no sex. If you want to get to the action sooner, you might want to jump to chapter 1.

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My friend Chantelle and I had a relationship that was different than any relationship I’d had with a woman. It was different because although we had long conversations about our lovers, sex, and everything we had done and were going to do in our sex lives, we had never done anything physical together. I knew all about how she once had a threesome, I knew how a female friend had gone down on her, I knew she had tried anal sex with her boyfriend and liked it, and I knew about her solo explorations. You might think that would set the stage for us to experiment together. But despite everything, there just wasn’t any prospect of it. It was strange.

But I’m ahead of myself. Let me tell you about Chantelle and how our conversations got started.

Chantelle and I worked at the same large company. I met her when she was 22 and a part-time intern; I was a regular employee (and a little older). We got to know each other quite well over the next 2 years, mainly because of our outside-the-office interests. We both liked animals, and volunteered working with them in one of our research labs. There was nothing involved that was painful to the animals, just behavioral studies, but the lab directors always needed more help. Although we were in different divisions of a big organization, we saw each other every couple of weeks, sometimes for lunch, and usually while we were working with the animals.

I liked Chantelle as soon as I met her. She had a good sense of humor, and was able to laugh about herself, the company, and the animals we were working with. I was perhaps a little infatuated with her at times, as I’ve always liked younger women (although not too young!) and really liked chatting about all kinds of stuff with her. We talked about work, her boyfriends, local politics, and our animal-care hobby. She stood about 5’4″, had medium-length dirty blond hair, was fairly petite, and probably wore a B-cup bra. A typical lovely young lady. But despite several years age difference, we really hit it off.

Most of our conversations at work were pretty professional, but we had time to have some social chat too. So as I learned about her boyfriend, she learned about my family, and I learned about her plans to go back to school. She always wanted advice, especially about the school part, so we had plenty of regular conversations.

Things got a little more interesting when we started taking day-long work trips together. A few times a year, we would need to drive a couple of hours away to a big pet warehouse to buy supplies and equipment for the labs. The labs ordered a lot of stuff direct, of course, but when we drove we could also buy stuff for our own pets (we were both animal lovers), and the place we went had more choices and better prices than the local stores. It used to be that just one person from the company would drive down, but Chantelle and I started volunteering to drive down together for fun when we could.

During the two-hour drives, we mainly talked about careers, and school, and what it was like for her to continue to work in the same town where she grew up and went to high school. As we talked about friends and how “cosmopolitan” our university town was, I learned that she was pretty open-minded, and she stuck around because our employer was as well. Chantelle had had a couple of female friends who were gay in high school, but some other of her friends just didn’t understand, and she was glad when her friends moved on post-high school to a less judgmental environment.

Chantelle had only had a couple of serious boyfriends, and by our second or third trip, I was getting the whole story on all of them. Chantelle’s first real boyfriend lasted from high school until she was 21. She took a couple of years off, and then started seeing a new guy (I’ll call him “Dave”) around the same time I met her. She was initially pretty happy, and he sounded like a nice guy. But it also turned out he was pretty straight laced, which didn’t fit her all that well. He had to move farther away for work a few months after they started dating, so she wasn’t seeing him all that often. This would put a strain on any relationship, and Chantelle started to express some doubts after a few months of this.

This is when we first started talking about sex. It began when I asked Chantelle on one trip how she was doing while he was away.

“Well, it does put a crimp into my sex life,” she admitted.

“OK, but can’t you find some other way to deal with that?” I asked.

“Oh, sure, but I’d like to at least be able to talk to him about it, or maybe escort izmit during, and he’s just not that interested in long distance phone sex! The point is to be with someone, even if you aren’t there, right? That’s why it’s called ‘sex’.”

“Hmm. Maybe some stories? You know, dirty stories? To read together. There’s a lot of, uh, ‘erotica’ online if you haven’t looked. Actually, I guess you could read them together, or alone, when you are stuck at home.”

“Yeah, I know. Actually, I’ve read plenty, but it’s another place where he just doesn’t get it.”

“What do you mean? What’s to get?”

“Well, have you read very many stories like that?”

“Yes, I suppose I have.” I acknowledged, “I’m a guy, it’s one of the things we do.”

“Don’t be sexist, girls read too, you know! But OK, so you know how when you are in a particular mood, sometimes you want a story of the right length? Not too long, not too short? “

“Sure, like, sometimes you might want long and romantic, but sometimes those go on forever, and you’re like, blah blah, walk by the lake, blah, talk by the fire, blah blah, stare deeply into her eyes…”

She laughed. “You’re so romantic. But yea, some are like that. But then, you know if you get one that’s just a couple of pages, then it usually sounds like some 15 year old kid writing something totally fake, so it’s just wham and it’s done. Right?”

“Right, there are a lot of those too. Sometimes not so bad, but sometimes just really dumb.”

“EXACTLY! You do know what I mean!”

“Ok, so sure, sometimes you want the long and slow, maybe sometimes you want one kind of story or another. OK, so what?”

“OK, so, when you look online at these story sites, you can tell how long they are, and sometimes they’re divided into subjects – “

“Like threesomes, or moresomes, or the first time you did whatever, right…”

“Right, and sometimes you like this one, sometimes that one. But you still can’t tell that much until you start, you just can’t tell from the titles. So, sometimes you have to look at a lot of stories to find a good one. But the thing is, Dave just doesn’t get it. I tried to explain it to him once when we were together one night, to see if we could flip through some until we found something really hot, and it just didn’t work. I gave up after a while. He just didn’t really get into it. Not that he didn’t get into me, you know, but I really like reading these sometimes, and it was kind of disappointing about him.”

Hmm, too bad, I thought to myself. I’d be all over it if my girlfriend wanted to read about sex with me!

We drove for a while more, while I mulled how to move the conversation a bit further. So Chantelle read erotic stories. That, along with other hints about sex, suggested she was probably masturbating regularly. I’ve never had a girlfriend who would admit to regular masturbation, let alone do it with me unless I prompted it, and I love the idea of women solo. So I wanted to know more.

“So you read , do you?”

She laughed. “Is that the formal name for it, instead of ‘porn?'”

“That makes sense. But actually, I was thinking about this website that has lots of stories. There’re a lot of categories, but on this one the stories are rated by readers. So you can kind of get an idea ahead of time if it’s going to be crap, or hopefully pretty good. I think, maybe 20 different categories? There’s a lot of good, uh, entertainment there.”

“So how do they rate them, do people vote or something?”

“Yup, you can rate them 1 to 5, and they just post the average. They must keep track of how often people vote so they can’t cheat. But a lot of them have hundreds of ratings, so even if someone voted extra times it wouldn’t throw it off that much.”

“So what categories do you read? Do you have favorites?”

This was going a good way, but I was afraid to give out too much about what I liked in case she would think it was too kinky off the bat.

“Well, most of the categories are kind of specialized, there’s lots of kinky stuff too. So there things like first time sex, and a section of romantic stories, and I think maybe one about vampires or aliens. But there are stories about threesomes, lesbians, doing it in public, anal sex, wife-swapping… things I think most people read about but don’t do.”

“You know, one time I did one of those with my first boyfriend, the big man, for his birthday.”

“Did what?”

“We had a threesome with another girl I knew. He’d always wanted to. He kept telling me it was one of his favorite fantasies. So I finally gave in.”

I felt the blood rush to my face at her matter-of-fact statement. “You did? Wow, awesome. I never had a girlfriend who I think would have ever really considered it.”

She giggled. “Aw, poor baby. I think every guy wants to do it. You never know, though, maybe one of your girls had it in the back of their mind. I have to admit, I wasn’t opposed. There’s always someone who can turn you on…”

“So, um, if I can ask, izmit escort how was it? Worth it?”

“Oh, it was good. She was better than he was, actually. It was a fun night, although we didn’t ever do it again.”

That leaves open a lot of future possibilities. I wonder… But then Chantelle was quiet for a minute.

“But this tells you another thing about Dave. When I told him about it, he just wasn’t all that interested. I was giving him the blow-by-blow, and he just wasn’t that into it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, I was trying to get him into it, so I talked about kissing her, and about how she worked around from kissing me to working her way down, even a little more about how, uh, excited we were… But then he just did the same old stuff.”

That idiot. How could anyone in their right mind not want to follow up on that? The more I learned about Dave, the less I understood how he could be a good match to Chantelle, given how much she liked to talk about sex.

“I can’t believe it, how could you not want to hear all about it!”

She laughed again. “I don’t know, but it just didn’t seem to get him going in particular.”

“Unbelievable. So, do you think he just needs to loosen up? Maybe he’s just a one-woman kind of guy.”

She thought about it for a few seconds.

“Well, he’s pretty good in bed, but just not adventurous. You were more excited to hear about the birthday celebration than he was!”

She had that right, but I couldn’t quite come out and tell her that my pants were a little tight right about now.

“Well, I hope he comes around. You know, he just doesn’t seem very much like you this way. You only live once, and it would be a shame to miss the fun stuff.” From her wistful tone talking about him, and a few other conversations, I could guess that this relationship was not going to last much longer if he kept this up.

After a few minutes of dealing with traffic, I returned to exploring Chantelle’s sex life. “So, you know, on those stories… .com is really pretty good, it’s worth checking out if you can remember the website.”

“I’ll remember. I might have time tonight. So maybe I will.”

“Ah, cool. Let me know what you think. So, how often do you get online to read stories, or whatever, with Dave out of town?”

“I dunno, it depends on my work schedule and if I’m working nights, and what I’m doing with my mom.” Chantelle lived in a house very close to her mom’s still. “I wish I had more time every day. You know, I have a pretty active sex life, actually. I’ve always said I could never marry anyone with a lower sex-drive than me! I really could use him around a couple of times a day. But I know how to cope.”

“No, if that’s you, you don’t want to marry someone who’s not, uh, up for regular games, for sure.” Every day. Maybe a couple of times. That’s some serious self-indulgence, if I was reading her right. But I couldn’t quite bring myself to come out ask more directly. Oh well, hearing about the threesome was good enough.

In fact, the threesome was the highlight of the conversation that trip. We got to the pet store, and our conversation never came back to this the rest of the trip. Did it set the stage for my imagination to run wild later, and for some great solo action of my own? You betcha.

One other trip was particularly noteworthy, and it set the stage for when we eventually did go further than just talking. After a while, Chantelle broke up with Dave, and for a few trips we had just some light discussion of fun stuff, and nothing too serious. But one day we started talking about her moving back into her mom’s house, which was empty because mom was spending a lot of time at her new boyfriend’s place.

“She’s said I can just come back and stay in her room whenever she’s not there.”

“Is that good?”

“Well, it’s a nice house, and a big bed. My mom just told me to stay out of her dresser and leave her sex toys alone.” She giggled at that.

I perked up, of course. “I can’t think of your mom like that! She’s still pretty cute, but not as cute as you. Does she have a lot of toys?”

“You say the nicest things. There’s a drawer with a few things. I only saw them in passing. I didn’t really feel like poking around much.”

“Weird thinking of your mother’s sex life?”

She laughed. “A little weird, but I’ve known she had one for a long time. If she’s anything like me, she must be pretty horny sometimes. And I always knew what was going on with her boyfriends over the years. I could hear them sometimes when I was living at home. She wasn’t really that quiet, and after a while it was pretty obvious. She wouldn’t say anything, but they’d come over, go up to her room for an hour, and then come down. Some of my friends thought it was a little strange, but she was always pretty open about talking about sex, so I knew what was up even when I was a teenager.”

“So, you don’t want to try out her toys? With all that experience, there might be something izmit kendi evi olan escort good in there.”

“Yech! It’s one thing to know what’s going on, but another to use… well, you know, it’s kind of gross to use her stuff. I’d want my own.”

“Do you have your own? Vibrator, or whatever?”

“No, actually, I’m good, never wanted one. I’ve seen them, but I’m not even sure where I’d go to get one around here even. Besides, I’ve got a pretty good shower massage that I like.”

Oh, awesome. “I love the shower massage! I had a friend once who kept telling me all about hers. She told me about her vibrators too, though. I think she liked some variety.”

We drove for a few minutes. “Have you ever used the shower massage for two?” I asked. “It can actually be pretty good for guys, too.”

“I tried once, but it didn’t work. He said it was too much. Is there a secret?”

“Well, if you do it with too much water pressure, or right on the, uh head of the, you know,” I kind of stumbled, “Well, then it’s too much. But on a gentle setting, underneath, or maybe all around, it’s kind of like a thousand fingers, or tongues.”

She looked straight at me. “So under your penis, or under your balls?” She must have seen the expression on my face. “It’s OK, you can say it.”

Ahem. “Ah, either is OK, but I was thinking under the balls. Definitely not a strong stream – that would hurt! But underneath, it’s really nice. It won’t quite do it alone, you still need something in front, like a hand or mouth or something. At least I do.” We were into pretty deep details now, so I figured what the heck, it was OK. “But it can be really nice that way.”

“So you need more than just the water? For me, just the water is enough.”

“Yeah, we’ve got some different anatomy. It doesn’t work quite the same. I like underneath.”

“I guess that would get you really clean all over, even in back, doing that.”

“You can never be too clean, and ready for anything!” Is she thinking of anal? I wondered what she thought of that. But I couldn’t figure out how to follow up, so I just stuck with the shower massage.

“Also, if you can balance, you can sit on his lap, facing away from him, and use the shower massage on both of you together.”

“Ooh, that sounds nice. So you have it all then. “

“Definitely. It takes the right shower layout to be able to sit down and do it. But worth trying.”

I was aroused, but still a little red, not used to talking like this. Chantelle noticed. “You know, you’re cute when you blush.” At least someone was enjoying my embarrassment.

Once we arrived at the store, we continued to make small talk and drop little comments about sex as we walked through. But we also talked about other family things, like our nieces and nephews and having to deal with poopy diapers. We were just being silly at that point, but after a while I said, “No more! I don’t want to hear anything else about poop or cleaning up dirty butts!”

“Don’t tell me you have that much trouble with poop, mister, I know you’ve dealt with plenty of diapers. And with all this talk, I don’t have the impression you are exactly innocent. Maybe even about a nice butt.”

I grinned. “Hah, no, not at all. But of course, I’m far too polite to talk about all of that with lovely young ladies.” Chantelle rolled her eyes at me.

“A dirty butt is just part of life sometimes, especially when you’re 2. Did you know there was one time that I let my old boyfriend do me back there?”

Like I had done a few times before, I turned a little red as I stared at her. I loved how she’d just toss these things out in the conversation.

“I can’t believe you just told me that!”

“It was another one of those things he’d always wanted to do. I let him just that once, a little while before we broke up. It wasn’t bad, actually. I’d do it again.”

“Trust me, that’s a lot better than poopy diapers!”

“You know, his father called me a couple of weeks ago and was cleaning out the basement, and found some of our old stuff. The box had a tape we made that night.”

“Did his Dad watch it?”

“No, but I’m sure he wondered about this unmarked VHS! Good thing he didn’t. It’s been a long time, and I just threw everything away. I don’t even have a VCR anymore.”

“I wish I’d seen it. Or you could post it. I’ll be a lot of people would find it, uh, interesting.”

“Yeah, right, I don’t think so. Come on, let’s finish our shopping and get out of here.”

We wrapped up and got back in the car. After a while on the way home, Chantelle came back to our conversation:

“You know, I wasn’t sure by your reaction if I should have told you what I told you. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

Of course I want to hear about it! I didn’t know quite what to say. “No, no, that was good. It wasn’t what I was expecting. If it’s what you want, anal sex is all good, it’s something that a lot of people like. Hell, any kind of sex is all good! So no biggie, whatever works for you.”

I couldn’t quite figure out how to tell her that anal sex was one of my favorite fantasies, but I just didn’t have the right person to do it with. Later in the ride, though, I found a way to work it back in.

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