First lesson

Ruby stands and holds out a hand to Natasha. Natasha takes it and rises from the sofa without hesitation, the robe shifting around her short curvy body. Ruby leads her to the centre of the living room and turns her so she is facing you. The two of them stand close, already comfortable in each other’s space after four months of private afternoons.

“Watch,” Ruby says simply.

She unties the robe and lets it fall open. Natasha’s soft body is fully visible underneath, the same curves you have been denied for months now offered under someone else’s direction. Ruby’s hands move with quiet confidence. She cups Natasha’s breasts, thumbs brushing the nipples in slow circles until they tighten. Natasha’s breathing changes almost immediately. A soft sound leaves her throat. Ruby continues the same unhurried attention, learning nothing new because she already knows every response by heart.

She guides Natasha back to the sofa and settles her against the cushions. Then she kneels between her open thighs, exactly as she has done on all those Tuesdays and Thursdays. You remain in the chair, the thick length of your cock already hard again inside your trousers, forced to watch the same patient, thorough oral attention that has been replacing you.

Ruby’s tongue works in slow, deliberate strokes. She does not rush the clit. She does not force anything. She builds Natasha with the same steady focus you saw in the videos, fingers eventually sliding inside to curl against the spot that makes Natasha’s hips lift. Soft, encouraging murmurs leave Ruby’s mouth between licks. Natasha’s hand rests in her hair, not pushing, simply holding on as the pleasure is drawn out of her with complete patience.

Minutes pass. Natasha’s moans grow fuller. Her soft thighs begin to tremble. Ruby never breaks rhythm. When Natasha finally cums it is with a long, broken sound, body shaking under the mouth that has clearly been teaching her what she needs. Ruby stays there through the aftershocks, gentling her, only pulling back when Natasha’s breathing starts to settle.

She looks at you over her shoulder, lips wet, expression calm and instructional.

“That is the pace. That is the attention. No shoving. No assuming. You learn the body in front of you instead of expecting it to adapt to you. Your turn next. You will do exactly what I just did. I will correct you when you get it wrong. And you will listen.”

Natasha remains reclined on the sofa, robe open, cheeks flushed, eyes on you with the same measuring look from this morning. The lesson has moved from theory to practice. Ruby shifts to the side, making space between Natasha’s thighs, and waits for you to take the place she has just occupied. The living room is silent except for the quiet sound of three people breathing, the weight of the next step sitting heavily in the air between you.