Practical #1

You move from the chair and kneel between Natasha’s open thighs. The position feels strange and exposed. Ruby shifts closer so she can see everything. Natasha looks down at you with the same measuring expression, soft body still flushed from the orgasm Ruby just gave her.

“Start with your hands,” Ruby says. “Not your mouth. Learn the rest of her first.”

You rest your palms on Natasha’s soft thighs and move upward, slow, trying to match the unhurried pace you just watched. Ruby’s voice stays low and precise beside you.

“Lighter. She does not need pressure yet. Trace, do not grab. Good. Now the stomach. She likes being touched there when it is gentle. Keep going.”

Your hands travel over the soft middle you used to itch to hold, then higher to her breasts. You cup them the way Ruby did, thumbs brushing the nipples in careful circles. Natasha’s breathing shifts. A small sound escapes her. Ruby nods once.

“Better. Stay with that until she is actually responding, not just tolerating it. Watch her face, not her chest. Her face tells you when it is working.”

You keep the same slow attention until Natasha’s eyes half-close and her hips make a small, involuntary movement. Only then does Ruby allow the next step.

“Mouth now. Between her legs. Flat tongue. No pointed tip, no attacking the clit like it owes you something. Long strokes. Taste her properly. She is already wet from me. Do not waste it by rushing.”

You lower your head and do as instructed. The first slow lick draws a quieter, fuller sound from Natasha than anything you have heard from her in months. Ruby’s hand settles on the back of your head, not forcing, simply guiding the angle.

“Slower. Longer strokes. Let her feel every inch of your tongue. When you reach the clit, circle it. Do not suck yet. She will tell you when she wants more by the way she moves. Until then you stay patient.”

You follow the corrections. Every time you speed up even slightly Ruby’s voice cuts in, calm and firm, pulling you back to the deliberate pace that had made Natasha cum so easily under her mouth. Minutes stretch. Natasha’s hand eventually rests in your hair the same way it had rested in Ruby’s. Her soft thighs begin to tighten. The wet sounds of your tongue working her fill the living room.

“Now fingers,” Ruby instructs. “Two. Slide them in slowly. Curl toward her belly. Find the spot that makes her breath catch and stay on it. Keep the tongue on her clit at the same time. Steady rhythm. She finishes from consistency, not force.”

You do it. Natasha’s hips lift. A longer moan leaves her throat. Ruby stays right beside you, watching every movement, correcting the angle of your fingers with a light touch on your wrist, reminding you to keep the tongue moving even when your concentration splits. The patience she demands is harder than any hard thrust you have ever given. It requires focus. It requires putting Natasha’s responses ahead of the thick, aching cock still trapped in your trousers.

Natasha’s breathing grows ragged. Her soft body starts to tremble the way it had under Ruby. You keep the exact rhythm you have been taught, tongue and fingers working together, until her thighs clamp around your head and a broken, open cry signals that she is finishing. You stay with her through it, the way Ruby did, only easing off when her hand in your hair finally loosens.

Ruby’s voice is quiet and evaluative when she speaks again.

“That is the beginning. You listened. You did not push. She finished. Remember how it felt to earn that instead of expecting it. We are not done. There is more for you to learn before anyone even thinks about that cock of yours.”

Natasha remains reclined, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, the measuring look now mixed with something closer to reluctant surprise. The lesson continues, the living room still held in the same charged quiet, and you remain on your knees between her thighs waiting for the next instruction.