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Down in the Dirt, v207 (5/23)



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Down in the Dirt

Lover in Training

Bill Tope

    “You’ve got a really nice bod’, she observed didactically, “but you’re not very good in bed.” Tim blinked, taken aback.
    “I’m not?” he asked, surprised. This could be bad news, he thought. He had gotten used to being a kept man; Sheila was loaded.
    “Don’t get me wrong,” she hurried on. “You look...terrific, and that’s a big part of any sexual experience...” He continued to stare at her in wonder. Where was she going with this? She added, “It’s just at the nuts and bolts of sex, where you’re lacking.” He spoke up,
    “Whatta’ ya’a mean, lacking?” he questioned, glancing down at his naked form. He hadn’t had any complaints before. “I’ve got at least...”
    “Yes, Dear,” Said Sheila soothingly. She was his senior by at least 20 years and had invested considerably in him already, if only in time. Too much to simply toss away without at least making an effort. “You’ve got the equipment; you just don’t know how to use it effectively.” At this he made a ring with the forefinger and thumb of one hand and pushed the finger of his other hand through it. He said,
    “But I thought all you had to do was...” At her reproachful look his voice trailed off into silence. “So, this is it then, huh?” He looked down at his feet.
    “I didn’t say you were hopeless,” she corrected him. He looked up, a light of optimism in his eyes.
    “I’m willing to do anything,” he said in desperation, spreading wide his hands.
    “I enrolled you in a sexual training class,” he told him, holding out a slip of paper with a name and address on it; it was at a rural compound outside the city. He took the paper and read aloud,
    “Miss Lotte’s Carnal Instruction.” he looked up. “Where did you find this?” he asked.
    “On the web, of course,” she replied. He squealed with laughter.
    “Intercourse on the internet, huh?” and slapped his thigh. But she was not amused.
    “Make it through Miss Lotte’s 3-week accelerated course and I’ll give you another chance. But if you can’t cut it, then we’re through, Tim.” This pronouncement fell like a death knell on the aspiring lover, but he perked up.
    “I’ll do it, Sheila!”

    Three weeks later

    Sheila opened her door to allow Tim entrance. She looked appraisingly at him; he seemed different. Good, she thought. Practically anything was better than what she’d had. He still looked hot, but what had he learned? she wondered.
    “How are you, Tim?” she asked. “You look good!” He grinned self-effacingly.
    “I am good, Baby!”
    “I got your diploma today from Miss Lotte’s. She said you finished at the top of your class. Congratulations, Tim! In fact, you may be too much for me to handle now.” He smiled modestly. Sheila was looking really good, he thought. After the females from Miss Lotte’s, she was like a bright spring day. He had forgotten how beautiful she was.
    “Can I get you a drink?” she offered, reaching for his usual Vodka Collins.
    “Just water,” he replied. She withdrew her hand, opened a bottle of Perrier, handed it to him. At length, when nothing further came to mind, she said with a little smile,
    “Would you like to show me what you learned at the retreat?” He nodded eagerly. He was getting turned on just watching Sheila.

    In the Boudoir

    After they had disrobed, they both crawled over the bed, toward one another. Sheila drew near and gave Tim a big kiss. Instead of kissing her back, however, he nuzzled her neck, her nose, her ear, and began enthusiastically licking her face. After a moment, she pulled back.
    “Hey, what’s that all about?” she asked, putting her hand on Tim’s chest and pushing back. He seemed nonplussed.
    “All the other girls seemed to like it,” he explained.
    “Well,” she reconsidered, “it’s not awful, it’s just weird. Can’t we just kiss?”
    “You wanted me to show you what I learned,” Tim pointed out. “After all, you spent all this money and everything and...”
    “Okay, okay,” said Sheila. “What else did they teach you?” Tim looked up from where he was licking his groin with his tongue. Auto-erotica, she thought. She’d ask him about that later. She was broadminded. He offered up leather collars, which he swiftly fastened about their necks.
    “Hey, now you’re talking,” said Sheila with a grin. “Toys, devices, I can dig it!” Next he crept behind her and straddled her back side. Sheila moved to one side. “No. No! I don’t like it that way. You know that. Sheila was fast losing patience with her erstwhile lover. She’d give him one more chance. But Tim was avidly licking his groin with his tongue again, gnawing at his feet, scratching his scalp. She threw up her hands. And threw him out.

    One Week Later

    Following the GPS in her Mercedes, Sheila finally found Miss Lotte’s Carnal Instruction in a rather seedy part of the city. Quitting her vehicle she walked to the door and stepped inside. A little bell tinkled. Inside the office she found an older, well-groomed woman of about 65. She looked up from a catalog and said,
    “Yes, may I help you?” She smiled.
    “Yes,” said Sheila. “I’m Ms. Thomas. I called....”
    “Yes, of course. You were unhappy with the results of Mr. Burton’s training, as I recall....”
    “Yes, I was.” Sheila said nothing else. She sniffed. The office was musky.
    “In what way were you disappointed?” asked the lady. Sheila threw up her hands.
    “Well, in every way. I found him inattentive, distracted, and frankly weird. He put a dog collar round my neck—that was the most normal thing he did. And he licked his own...yet you graduated him at the top of his class. How is that possible?”
    “Ms. Thomas, I thought it was rather irregular to enroll Mr. Burton in our class; however, the money you offered was just too good to turn down. May I ask where you heard of us? It might clear a few things up.
    “On the internet,” replied Sheila. “It was there in black and white: Miss Lotte’s Carnal Instruction. Big as life.
    “My Dear,” said the woman, tittering. “I understand now. We’re Lotteo’s Instruction, not Lotte’s. We take a totally different type of clientele. But,” she added, the money you offered for accelerated instruction was just too good to pass up. He was very popular, though, with both the students and the instructors. However, he really just did not fit in.”
    “I don’t know what you mean?” said Sheila. “What sort of students do you usually have?” Suddenly, from the door leading to the back of the building arose a cacophony of snarling, whining and barking.
    The woman said with a sigh, “The four-legged kind.”



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