The First Class #WickedWednesday

“Sex education’s come a long way since I was a girl.” The older woman’s eyes scanned the room, taking in her new students. “Not that anyone in this room is a young thing.” She laughed at her own joke.

The room was a mix of women and men, ranging from late twenties to late fifties, if she was guessing.

“You know the basics, I’m sure. Tab A fits into slot B, and all that.” She looked at the students in front of her. A few dutifully nodded. She always liked the obedient ones. “Now, you’re here for more. Most likely because someone thinks you’re a bad lay. Am I right?”

This was the same speech she gave at the beginning of each new class. The obedient ones always blushed and looked down at their hands or the ground or wherever. The ones who probably wouldn’t last to the next session zoned out or pretended not to listen. But there was always at least one who thought they didn’t need to be here, that they knew everything about sex. Ah, there he is, in the back. She should have known.

She smiled to herself. Defiance could be fun – at least for her. An easy way to set an example for the class, and fun to break. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she let the silence linger for a moment or two. They always fidgeted, always. Except for that one in the back.

“Ok, first lesson. There is nothing wrong with a naked body. There is no such thing as perfection, and you’re all going to get over whatever your personal hang-ups are.” A younger woman in the front row looked around, clearly uncomfortable. Taking mental note of the girl, she continued, “So everyone stand up and strip. Now!”

The room went completely still. Obviously, they couldn’t believe she was serious. She gazed back at each person in the room, the expression on her face clear that she was dead serious.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. No one in here has anything we haven’t already seen. I’ve seen more naked bodies than you can imagine. Nothing you’ve got will surprise me. Get naked now or every lesson will include total nudity.”

Slowly, quietly, they all began taking of their clothes. No one looked at anyone else. The girl in the front row trembled and fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.

She walked up to the girl and began to help her. “Just breathe. You’re lovely, and when we’re done here, you’ll have no doubt of it.”

The girl looked up at her, tears glistening in her eyes. “Promise?” Her whisper was so soft the older woman could barely hear her.

“Promise.” She took in the girl from head to toe. Her skin was soft and pale. Her breasts, ripe and full, were set off by large, dark nipples. Her stomach was rounded. “Beautiful, very beautiful. You’re the perfect hourglass figure.” Her hands itched to feel the girl’s round, wide ass. She turned her attention away from the girl.

Surveying the room, her gaze became riveted on the defiant one in the back. He stripped slowly, as if performing for an audience. He let his jeans pool at his feet. He had her full attention, in fact he had the attention of the entire room. He wore no underwear and as soon as his pants fell, his semi-hard, thick, veiny, magnificent (if she said so herself) cock sprang forward, released from the confines of his clothes. It twitched and moved as if it had a life of it’s own. Her mouth watered, as did, she was sure, most of the room.

“Oh yes, this will be a very interesting class,” she murmured to herself before continuing to the next part of the lesson.

Welcome to Wicked Wednesday! This week’s prompt was about sex education and how there is much more of it than there used to be. The question asked in the prompt was: Does undergoing expert led additional training for your sex skills prompt wicked Wednesday thoughts? Apparently, the answer is yes. This is as far as I got before the story left me.