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Foreword and After-word.

One night, as we were talking, I made the obvious point that there's only so much you can learn through verbal explanation or even demonstration. At some point you have to actually do something, you have to practice, to learn how to do it well.

Almost as soon as the words left my mouth, I worried that she might take them the wrong way. As much as I fantasized about her doing so, I really wasn't trying to convince her to break her ground rules. But I succeeded nonetheless.

"You know, you're right, Jake. If I actually want to learn how to do any of these things well, I'm going to need to practice them. I feel bad about it, but I still think Liam will be the ultimately beneficiary. So here are the new rules. I can touch you, as needed, but you can't touch back, at least not while I'm naked. Understood?"

I nodded. At that point, Naomi - who was wearing nothing but a pair of cotton pajama shorts - reached over and gently put her hand on my cock. I was so conditioned to the no contact rule that her touch felt at first like an electric shock. It was sensory overload. Slowly, gently, she began stroking my cock, doing a pretty good approximation of my own technique.

After a few minutes, she leaned over me and grabbed the bottle of lotion, which she now kept permanently on the nightstand. She squirted quite a bit onto her palm, rubbed her hands together, and then placed both of them around the shaft of my cock. Gradually she increased her speed, as well as the tightness of her grip. It felt phenomenal. The stimulation was so intense that I lasted less than a minute before erupting like a geyser. She was leaning over me so closely that some of my cum splashed up onto her left breast. She smiled when she saw it, as if admiring her handiwork.

After she'd gotten tissues for both of us and put her shirt back on, she asked me to give her feedback on her technique and implored me to be as honest as possible. I did my best.

Handjob practice continued for the next couple of weeks, including once in a movie theater and another time in the back of a train car. It was Naomi's idea on both occasions, but she was no doubt inspired by the story I'd told her about getting a handjob in the back of a school bus during a class trip in high school.

Eventually, I got around to asking Naomi something that had been bothering me since the beginning of our little training sessions: what did she do to satisfy herself? What was her own "outlet"? She seemed surprisingly reluctant to tell me, but she eventually admitted that she masturbated every few days, often after I'd left in the morning and she was on the phone with Liam. She thought it was important, particularly in light of what she was doing with me, to share as many of her orgasms as possible with Liam. Her orgasm was something deeply intimate that was reserved for him.

I respected her reasoning, as strange as it was. It made sense to me that keeping something like that private, sharing it only with Liam, helped ease some of the guilt she must feel for everything she was doing with me. And it was at least consistent with her justification for fooling around with me in the first place, that she was only doing it to benefit Liam down the road.


To my pleasure, but not my surprise, after Naomi felt that she'd mastered the handjob, she wanted to add a new skill to her repertoire. It happened one night while we were lying on her bed, watching TV. When the show we were watching ended, she lifted off her top, which had become her way of indicating that she wanted to "practice."

As usual, she reached down and fondled my cock through my pajama pants until it was hard.

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