The Exchange Student

by Lubrican

Chapters : Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | Epilogue

Chapter Six

Their relationship, after that night, changed somewhat fundamentally. Oddly, both of them tried to avoid accepting the change. Ruth tried to ignore his feelings for her because that's what he thought she wanted him to do. Nadia recognized that she was now willing to entertain having a full and complete relationship with a boy ... man ... something that had only been academic in the past. To say that she was aware of how much she liked Ruth, is to say that an addict is aware of how much he'd like to get another fix.

She wrote her mother long letters, describing the way things had happened, her reasons for initially calling Ruth her boyfriend, and how her feelings for him had progressed. She didn't describe what had happened that night, or what her cheerleader friends had set her up to do, but she did describe the general sexual atmosphere in America, or at least in Victorville.

Her mother wrote her back even longer letters, telling her that Victorville was no different than any place on earth. For tens of thousands of years men had been attracted to women, and women to men. It was what they were born to do. Her mother had only an eighth grade education. It was Nadia who had tutored her, instead of the other way around. Her mother learned as much from Nadia's homework in Russia as Nadia did. And they had spent hours and hours talking about life. But her mother had never grasped the concept of what education could do for a Russian. She didn't know any educated people, with the exception of the inspectors who came to town occasionally. No one liked them, or wanted them around. To Nadia's mother, the goal was to find a good man, have many strong babies, and live life well, and as long as you could.

Basically, the pressure Nadia felt was only increased by her mother's recommendation to follow her heart, rather than her head.

She lasted a whole month, sitting beside him at supper, talking with him softly as they did homework, or played a board game or worked on one of the dozens of puzzles they had. It had snowed deep, and everyone spent evenings inside now. He was the perfect gentleman, which was probably more devastating to her control than anything else. He didn't push, like other boys tried to. He wasn't crude, like other boys were. His shy smiles melted her heart and practically required that, every night, she rub between her legs until the sweet release allowed her to sleep.

But of course the last thing she thought about before that sleep took her, was how much sweeter and better the release had been with his lips on her.

And, of course, there were two more outfits the girls had chosen for her, that she hadn't shown her boyfriend yet.

One of the outfits Ruth hadn't seen yet had been purchased with the recommendation that she make an ... alteration ... to her current appearance. Maria, in the dressing room at Walmart, had even showed her what that might look like by pulling up her skirt, and pulling down her panties. Tiffany's assurance that no man could resist her if she shaved down there, had been taken with a grain of salt, at the time.

But now she was much more interested in exploring this new idea. She had gotten the bra and panty set out several times, letting her fingers slide over the soft fabric, or pull and pluck at it. The material was a rich, dark maroon color, and felt as soft as the fur of a kitten. It was made of what she would have called yarn, though it was impossibly thin yarn, compared to what she had seen the old grandmothers working with in Russia. Plus it was woven loosely, which meant it would stretch easily. She tried the bra on once, and then performed antics in front of the mirror to see if it restrained her breasts as she jumped or danced. It did not. It framed them. It displayed them. But it did nothing to support them. And when she tried on the bottoms, she saw immediately what Tiffany had been talking about as numerous bright blond hairs found and protruded from the mesh-like fabric.

Of course this particular clothing wasn't really designed for support. It wasn't really even designed to be worn under clothing. Tiffany had called it a "sleep set" and said it was for teasing boyfriends. She had also said a bald pussy teased them to distraction.

She had shaved her legs and, since coming to America, under her arms. But she had never tried to shave between her legs.

It actually gave her the excuse she had been looking for. So one night, wearing the maroon sleep set , with shaving cream and razor in hand, she paid her boyfriend another visit.

She found him just like he had been the time before, with those tight, white underwear showing off his bulging manhood while he read a book. He looked over at her and smiled.

"I haven't seen that outfit before," he said.

"I didn't show it to you because there was a problem."

"And the problem was resolved?"

"No. I need help resolving it." She walked to the bed and, transferring everything to one hand, reached with the other to pluck at a few blond strands that she had carefully managed to get through the mesh in just the right place to do what she was doing. She held out the shaving cream and razor that were in her other hand.

"Oh man," said Ruth, staring at the errant blond pussy hairs. He licked his lips and Nadia felt warmth in her belly at the thought of that tongue flicking between other lips.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

"Um ... yes ... I will definitely help you," he said.

She tugged at the maroon cloth. "I must take this off for you to help me, yes?"

Ruth nodded. "Yes." Nadia loved the look in his eyes as he said that.

"Even the top?" she asked, teasing.

"We wouldn't want to get shaving cream on it," he said, his face straight.

"Of course not," she said.

She watched his face as she got naked, and the thrill in her belly zinged to her nipples, making her reach to squeeze them without realizing it. There was no place to sit except the bed, so she sat there while he got up and came around to kneel between her knees, which she found took no effort whatsoever to spread for him.

They were not prepared, of course. They had no water. They had no towel. They had no scissors to shorten her blond nether locks prior to applying the razor. That implement, in fact, had been used several times, and a new one would have been better.

But Ruth was performing a labor of love, so the amount of time it took him was of no consequence. He got a T shirt and put it under her, and another one to clean the razor on. If all he got on a swipe was four or five hairs, he didn't care. Luckily the shaving cream was a gel, which lubricated her skin well enough that he didn't burn it.

The problem was that it amounted to masturbating her for half an hour.

She sat up, leaning back on her arms, and watching as he carefully scraped the hair away. He found it naturally helpful to press and hold the top of her split to make the skin taut. That meant she felt the thrills of her bump being manipulated, even though he wasn't doing it on purpose, or at least for that reason. She tried to stay still, but eventually she couldn't, and finally, when a soft, almost languid orgasm soaked through her, she fell back flat on the bed, her breasts heaving.

"You need to stay still," Ruth scolded her.

"I cannot, with you doing that to me," she panted. "You are a very bad boyfriend right now."

"Do you want me to stop?"

She sat bolt upright, her eyes wide.

"No! I didn't mean it. You're a good boyfriend."

He grinned. "If the Marines came in here with guns, they couldn't make me stop right now."

He reached for her head and pulled it to his for a kiss. This time she opened her mouth, not by design, but simply because she took a breath as his lips pressed to hers. Her tongue, for lack of anything else to do, explored and, within twenty seconds, they both learned how to French kiss. Both decided immediately that they liked it a lot.

But Ruth pulled away from her and went back to work. She tried lying back, so she couldn't see his fingers, but that didn't really help, and when he was almost through, she had another orgasm. He paused while her belly heaved, understanding what was happening to her, if not precisely why it was happening, or that his fingers on her clit had caused it. Then he went back to work, removing the last patch of hair from her glistening mons.

When he was finished, and had wiped her sex clean of the remaining gel, he couldn't resist leaning in to lap and suck at her now naked folds.

She rolled, in panic, her fingers scrabbling for his pillow.

Perhaps because she was so well primed, he was able to bring her to the pinnacle twice before his tongue and jaw got tired, as it had previously. He was fired up, though, and licking and kissing her skin didn't stress his jaw. For that reason he found himself working his way up her body towards her head. Her lower legs hung over the edge of the bed, and her arms were thrown wide, where she had gone limp after the last orgasm. His face, tongue and lips, caressing her skin, felt wonderful, so she just lay there enjoying it.

When he got to her breasts, two things happened. His urge to suck a nipple kicked in ... and the iron hard lump in his briefs pressed against her newly shaven pussy.

The unbelievably sweet pain of having a nipple sucked caused her back to arch instinctively, and her hands came to the back of his head without conscious thought. The feeling down below, however, was something different. It wasn't a raw sexual sensation like his lips pulling at her stiff nipple. She felt something, and had to figure out what it was. The lovely sensations in her nipple distracted her, but eventually her brain registered that the only cloth on his body, which was what her pussy lips were feeling, was the cloth that covered the long, hard thing that she knew was meant to penetrate her down there.

At that precise instant, a primitive part of Ruth's brain made exactly the same connection, and without thinking about it, he pressed his erection against something, simply because it felt good to do so. Then, because rubbing his cock against something also felt good ... his body did that without being told to.

Suddenly Nadia's clitty was being massaged by something a lot more exciting than his fingers or tongue. She groaned as her body began to ready itself for the logical conclusion.

He changed nipples, loving the feel of the semi-solid flesh that spiked into his mouth. He suddenly realized he was dryfucking the girl under him. That term - dryfucking - had always been an unappealing and emotionless concept to him in the past. That changed as he felt her pussy lips move under his cock's ministrations. The flesh he had just been sucking at, was now being moved by his prick, and there was nothing emotionless about it.

Best of all ... she wasn't complaining.

He felt the sudden need to see her eyes, and abandoned her nipples to move his face above hers. That brought even more of his weight onto his cock, as his toes began to slide on the carpet under them. His full weight came down on her groin as his lips hovered over hers. Her eyes were wide open. They looked on the lavender side of blue to him.

"I love you," he whispered.

She nodded, and he realized she was very tense. "I love you too," she panted.

"I want to kiss you," he said, suddenly aware that he still tasted her pussy in his mouth.

Her hands came to the back of his head again and she leaned her head up to crush her lips against his. Her tongue swabbed his lips and teeth and then dueled with his tongue, as their mouths opened wide. They had to pause the kiss to breathe, but his hips never stopped their endless circling as his cock rubbed her sex tirelessly.

"Is that how I taste?" she gasped.

"You taste wonderful," he panted back.

"I do!" She sounded surprised.

"Do you like this?" he asked, grinding his cock against her mound.

"I love it!" she gasped. "I don't think I'm supposed to, but I do."

"Do you want me to take my underwear off?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, but you must not," she whined.

"Why not?"

"Because if you do I will want ebat'. I want ebat' now!"

"Ebat', parroted Ruth.

"What your father wants when he takes Molly to the bedroom."

"Oh man," groaned Ruth.

"Oh Ruth, I love you so much."

It took a supreme effort, but Ruth pushed himself back down, dragging his boner across the edge of the bed between her thighs. Her pussy was there, pulsing, the lips wet and puffy. He couldn't resist sucking them between his lips again. She let him for a few seconds, and then sat up and pushed his head away.

"Wait!" she panted. "Get back."

He was afraid she was sending him away, but he moved back on his knees.

"Stand up," she ordered, and when he had, she said "Take them off." Her eyes were pinned to his briefs.

Feeling a mixture of elation and terror, he shoved his shorts down and stood before her, his boner jutting from the wisps of brown hair at the base. He watched as her fingers came and expertly, even to his untrained eyes, began to manipulate her clit.

"Don't move," she begged, as her efforts increased. Suddenly she stiffened two fingers and began sliding them in and out of her pussy rapidly, the pads scraping over her clit as she did so. "Don't move," she whispered again, leaning forward.

He actually saw the orgasm arrive. Her belly rippled, like a belly dancer's, and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she leaned even farther forward and stared at his cock. She froze, her fingers deep inside her, and the only sound was her ragged breathing.

"Don't move," she barely whispered again, and he stood there, frozen, his own lungs straining to get enough air to keep him conscious.

He saw her body relax, a muscle group at a time, until she sat back up, pulling her fingers from her pussy. She pulled her eyes away from his cock for the first time to look at them. Then she delicately sniffed at them, and finally put them in her mouth to suck them clean. She looked back at him. "I never did that before," she said softly. "I taste good!" she added, her voice clearly amazed.

His jaw simply dropped, leaving his mouth open.

Suddenly she stood up and came to him. Her hands pulled, and moved him to the bed, pushing him to fall on his back. Then she was over his groin and her hand gripped his stiff prick hard.

"I never did this before either," she said, looking at the tip of his manhood, protruding from her fist. "I hope you taste good too."

Her head descended and smooth lips took the place of her hand as wet heat surrounded the top half of his penis. He watched her cheeks collapse inward as she sucked.

With a sobbing, gasping groan, Ruth Cummins experienced severe premature ejaculation for the first time in his life.

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