Chapter 2

Thursday night, he finished before she did – and got up to see what was going on. Creeping up the hallway, he needed to be extremely cautious; those sounds... He didn't even touch her door, but stood outside of it, listening. He could make no sense of the sounds, initially – the grunts, gasps and whines. He was pretty sure she didn't work out. But there was a rhythm to them – something hauntingly familiar...

Lucille had three fingers in her hungry cunt, jamming them into it at a rate that caused her palm to slap her pubic mound, stimulating her swollen clitoris. She was soaking wet, which added a second layer of sounds. Panting as orgasm approached, she gasped, “Yes! Yes! Ogod! Ugh! Yes!” The wave of the promised orgasm rose before her, crested, and broke, inundating her. “Uuuuhhhnnnnggghh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

Kanye's cock solidified in his shorts. Instinct told him what reason had no answers for. 'She's doing herself – what I do!' He couldn't visualize it; he had no idea how a woman might get herself off, but he knew that was what it was... Smiling, he turned and crept back to his room to draw a second load from his rejuvenated erection.

The discovery altered Kanye's perception of Lucille. Previously, she'd been sexless. Now, she was female – not that he knew what to do with one. Yes, she was old, by his standards, but she needed her relief, just as he did, and it was something they had in common.

The situation prompted some research into human sexuality in the college library on Friday between classes, bringing Kanye some discoveries. What they were doing – both of them – was natural, but the acts were something looked down upon. Kanye had always serviced his needs in private, instinctively; he discovered that day that the acts weren't considered something you discussed socially. In fact, sex as a subject seemed to have walls of secrecy wrapped around it. The data was right there, readily available, but people didn't discuss it – it was 'nasty' or 'dirty.' Kanye would have classified it as 'messy,' but otherwise no big thing...

He almost missed class, twice – the subject was fascinating. That thing he'd been doing for pleasure had other implications – and the acts he'd been performing were considered to be a poor substitute for the act that was the purpose of the whole thing...

Once he delved into the subject, he was surprised that he'd ignored it for so long! Even a purely biological description of sex explained why he had to pump a load of cum out of his cock regularly – a male his age was supposed to be out impregnating women! Just as clearly, it had been made pleasurable so it would occur regularly. But Lucille was doing what he was doing...

Curiosity caused him to embarrass them both when she picked him up. “Um, Lucille? I've noticed that you don't seem to be seeing any guys...”

Lucille turned wide eyes on Kanye. 'Where did THAT come from?' “Well, there are reasons, I guess. I'm last year's model – or maybe last decade's. I'm not young and hot. Guys aren't exactly lining up to see me.”

“Oh. Everything still works, though, huh?”

“Yes.” Lucille blushed furiously. “Everything works. What do you know about it?”

“Not a lot. It... hasn't been important. It hasn't even been possible.”

“I don't know about that,” Lucille croaked. “I'm sure you're fully capable.”

“Well, no one has come looking to find out – or if they did, they weren't clear enough about it that I got it.”

“I'm sure it will happen someday.”

“What about you?”

Lucille sighed. “I guess I could say that I've been there and done that. I've been married. I've had children – I'm a mother. I'm coming to the end of the time in my life where more children are even possible – and I wouldn't want any, now.”

“So you're not interested?”

“In what?”

“Sex.”

“Kanye, this subject...”

“I've been reading. It seems like I'm ignorant because nobody wants to talk about it.”

Lucille gathered herself in. “It's a cultural thing – but it is in a lot of cultures. Yes, for some reason, we hint at sex a lot, but don't actually approach it. Somehow, it's considered rude. Actually, I think it's because the whole thing is a powder keg. The assumption is that if you start talking more or less openly about sex, you're asking for it.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I'll try to answer, anyway. You really ought to have had this discussion with someone some time back.”

“So...”

“I like it. But I'm not decorative and I'm older – I have little to offer a man. Men my age are usually in stable relationships – and if they aren't, there is a reason. Men your age wouldn't want to be seen with me. It would suggest that they couldn't do better and had nothing going for them.”

“So you do without. Do you, um...”

“Kanye! That's not a question you want to ask a woman!”

“Why?”

“Well...” Lucille got a grip. “They'll probably lie. There is this weird feature of our culture that any indication that a woman is sexually active in any way devalues her. That's EXTREMELY odd, since men want to meet women who ARE sexually active. Virginity isn't the prize it once was, but some people see a woman being pure and virginal as a good thing. The ultimate woman – and this is old school thinking – is one who is a virgin until her wedding night, then suddenly turns into a sexual dynamo – but only focused on her husband. It's a total fantasy. A highly-sexed woman is unlikely to remain a virgin until she's twenty or whatever – not when everything works at thirteen or so. And most guys are going to want to sample the merchandise before they make a commitment. The reality is that in this day and age, a woman who goes to her marriage bed a virgin is likely frigid...”

“Frigid?” Kanye cut in.

“Not sexually responsive. A woman who doesn't derive pleasure from the act. Where was I? Oh, and her husband is likely to be a romantic fool – not to mention severely disappointed. Most men want sex. Young men your age tend to want a LOT of sex!”

“Okay...” They were back to the original question.

Lucille sighed. “Yes. I like sex. “Yes. I masturbate.”

“How often?”

“Kanye!”

“I do, regularly.”

There was a long pause. Finally, Lucille said, “I know.”

“Oops! Was I loud or something?”

“I wash your T-shirts. I've had boys. I know what semen looks like – not to mention smells like.” There was no way that Lucille was going to add, 'I watched you...'

“I...”

“You do what you have to. It's... natural.”

“Women aren't going to line up for me...” Kanye defended himself.

“Someone will. In the meantime, we'll both do what we have to. Okay?”

“Okay.”

By then, they were home. Each of them went about his or her own business.

'Was he really that ignorant?' Lucille wondered. 'I guess it's possible...'

Lucille's curiosity prompted another odd conversation at dinner. “Kanye, do you know – I guess this sounds silly – what women look like?”

“Well...” Kanye pondered this. “Not really. Only vaguely, I guess. I was six. Girls my age didn't look much different – maybe more hair, or just how they dressed. Adults were, well, adults. I remember Momma, sort of. People are voices and hands, mostly. Once in a while I had a foster mom who would cuddle me – but that didn't mean I got to run my hands all over her. Most of them were big, I guess. Pretty much any woman I might remember would be black. Are white women different?”

Lucille frowned, not that Kanye could see it. “I don't know how to answer that. Superficially, maybe? There is color, and some facial features. I guess there is a wide variety of body shapes in any color. I'm kind of short and kind of fat...”

“How fat?”

“Um, not horrendous, but I'm overweight. A doctor would tell you I'm obese, but they have this standard that nobody seems to be able to meet.”

“Am I fat?”

“No. You're quite well-built.” Lucille wondered how far she could go with that. “I imagine that you WOULD meet that standard doctors have.” After some hesitation, she added, “You're quite nice looking.”

“I'm black.”

“That doesn't seem to be relevant. You're STILL good looking. I don't even know if I really want to express it like that, because it says I think there is something wrong with you.”

“There is,” Kanye grinned.

“Besides that.” Lucille smiled; Kanye could hear it in her voice. She sighed. “I don't think anyone my age wasn't raised to be a bigot – but I try not to be. You're handsome, regardless of your race.”

“I'm still blind.”

“Yes. Someone will come along who doesn't give a damn. You have too many other sterling qualities.”

“It hasn't happened yet.”

“Give it time.”

After dinner, Kanye devoted some time to trying to get a feel for what a representative female might look like – or, more important, feel like. It wasn't easy. Data he gathered on measurements really meant nothing. He'd never explored a female with his hands. He was unable to visualize the differences, especially since the data said things varied wildly. He wondered what Lucille would say if he asked her if he could explore her by touch. He suspected that she would decline – and even knew why. He'd received briefings on what was considered inappropriate for a caregiver to do to him – and he would be asking her for similar access. It seemed that he might have to wait until the woman Lucille seemed to think would come into his life to put in an appearance in order to satisfy his curiosity.

Saturday was a break in the schedule that the two of them operated on during the week. Kanye wasn't due in classes, although he might have homework or papers or other projects. Lucille went out for grocery shopping and other errands while Kanye stayed home, using his adaptive devices to gather information about women and sex, interspersed with research for a term paper in World History. There was a flood of information available regarding female sexual organs that he'd ignored until he suddenly realized that there was something else out there. His interest in what Lucille might be doing to bring herself to climax led him to research sexual practices – and the scope of the subject was AMAZING! There was oral sex and anal sex, as well as vaginal sex in multiple positions – and of course masturbation. Then there were the weird strange things – fetishes of this or that type. Very little World History got done. In the process, he found out more about himself and the acts he could participate in. It became evident that masturbation was an outlet for people who had nothing else, and that sex with a partner was the preferred thing. The realization that he was missing something – something pleasurable -- made him want to experience it. But, as usual, he had no options. 'The only woman around here is Lucille. That isn't going to happen.' Lucille had apparently been there and done that, but she wasn't going to jump at the chance to fuck a black boy in his late teens – even one with working eyes! She was doing what he was doing – for the same reasons, apparently – and neither of them was going to change that, he figured.

Kanye headed off to bed later than usual, and Lucille was in Facebook and didn't take it as her cue to head off, herself. As a result, she was still at her desk when a couple of relatively quiet sounds drifted to her ears from the direction of Kanye's room. Habit made her reach for the receiver of the baby monitor, but she hesitated. 'This isn't smart,' she mused – but she punched the switch anyway.

The sounds got louder – and rhythmic. But then Kanye grumbled, “Damn.”

Something bout that sound of frustration triggered Lucille. She got up, turning the monitor back off, and headed for Kanye's room.

Kanye was dealing with the consequences of his increased knowledge of all things sexual. The knowledge that his tried and true method of attaining relief wasn't the top end of sexual fulfillment was interfering with his efforts. He knew what the problem was – but that didn't mean he could fix it. He continued his stroke, sliding his hand smoothly up and down his erect shaft, his concentration total.

Lucille paused with her hand on the doorknob. 'Can I do this? What am I going to say if he hears me?' Kanye's acute hearing was almost certain to hear her turning the knob. But Kanye let out this groan of frustration and Lucille's hand moved of its own accord, turning the knob and imparting the impetus for it to open slowly. Lucille grimaced, expecting a long creak as the door drifted open, but it was surprisingly soundless, leaving Lucille gazing upon Kanye as he feverishly jacked his long cock.

Lucille had no idea why Kanye was having trouble – but it was clear that he was. Desire led her to watch his efforts, but her sense of responsibility restrained her. As she watched, though, sympathy for him welled up. This was his only outlet, the only pleasure he got out of a difficult life. THAT was what tipped the balance. THAT was what allowed her to drift forward.

'This SUCKS!' went through Kanye's head. 'What the fuck!' He erupted in another groan of frustration, throwing his head back and grinding his teeth. 'Come ON!' He was close – SOOO close! But he couldn't get over the hump!

Then, suddenly, a soft hand covered his on the fevered shaft of his cock and a voice whispered, “Let me help...”

“WHA--?” Kanye's surprise was total! But before he could move, a pair of soft lips leading to a hot, wet mouth rolled over his glans!

“HOLY FUCKING SHIIIIT!” Kanye's cock ERUPTED, firing clumpy bolts of semen into Lucille's mouth! To a woman who had largely done without for several years, it was ambrosia, and Lucille sucked it down greedily. Kanye clutched her head, but she wasn't going anywhere...

Kanye's first thought when he came back to himself was, “What do I do now?” Lucille had come to him and sucked him – an incredible act of generosity that had instantly provided him with the premiere sexual experience of his young life. But it was out of the blue, more or less, and he knew nothing about now to return the favor. Well, he HAD read about it... 'If I ask her, she'll say no...'

Lucille was still savoring the taste of virile male seed delivered powerfully into her mouth, and then texture of Kanye's plush glans. She approached him from the side of the bed and leaned over to get at him; at this point, she was half on the bed, one foot on the floor and her other knee on the mattress. Kanye reached down, got his hands under her armpits, heaved and twisted – and suddenly Lucille found herself on her back with Kanye above her! “Wha?”

'Fat, huh?' Moving her had been nothing, easy. “Let me do this.” Kanye wedged himself between her legs, thinking, 'I hope this quilted thing she's wearing is open at the bottom...' Her housecoat was – and so was the nightgown under it. Pushing them up, he groped under them for her panties.

“Kanye!”

“I'm not the only one who suffers!” He found what he was looking for and started tugging. “I've heard you!”

“You... Oh!” 'Omigod! He's listened to ME masturbating!' “We mustn't...”

Kanye, his head down took in a wave of 'that smell.' 'Does she wear that stuff on her pussy?' He let go of the waist of her panties and reached for the crotch – and discovered it to be soaking wet! The lights came on! 'That smell – it's arousal! I've been smelling her arousal for a week!' “You want this. I owe you! Let it happen! Besides, I need to learn!” That smell in his nose, Kanye felt almost superhuman! A quick wrenching grab tore away the crotch of Lucille's old, frayed panties. With her pussy exposed, the smell of her arousal was even stronger! Maddened by it, Kanye stuck his face in her crotch, his tongue questing for the nectar there!

“We can't... OMIGOD!” Lucille's attempt to formulate a response was derailed totally when Kanye's tongue swiped up the lips of her boiling hot cunt!

The tongue is an amazing organ – flexible, and capable of sensing both touch and taste. Sliding his over the surfaces of Lucille's outer labia gave him landmarks described by his reading, and he bored in on the underside of the bump that matched the description of a clitoris.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!” Lucille was galvanized! She clutched Kanye's head in both hands, her fingers digging into his short, wiry curls, pinning his face against her as she writhed. “Oooooooohhhhh! Uuuuuuuuhhhh! Oh! Oh! OH! OOOOHHH!!” She went rigid, her back arching, her weight on her shoulders and her feet as a fireworks display exploded over her senses!

Kanye gave a nod, more mental than physical. He'd succeeded, obviously! This was how you did it! Clearly, Lucille had gotten off – the fresh wash of her aromatic fluids was further confirmation. He kept digging with his tongue until Lucille collapsed, moaning, then crawled forward atop her.

“We can't!” Lucille gasped feebly pushing at him.

“Fine.” He knew what she was talking about; they'd gone too far already. But that wasn't what he was after. Fumbling for the zipper of her housecoat, he rasped, “Show me!”

“Show you? Show you what?”

“What a woman feels like!”

“I'm... not a good example...”

“I'm not listening.” He had her housecoat zipper; he unzipped it fully, then tried to keep going, thinking it was stuck. The reality was that it didn't go all the way to the hem.

Lucille grabbed his hand. “That's it, Kanye. It doesn't go any further.”

“Get out of it! Now!”

“Okay, but...”

“Just do it!”

His urgency compelled her – and the fact that she understood his purpose. 'This is... educational for him. And since we've crossed the barrier..' She wormed her arms out of the sleeves and pressed him back so she could sit up. “I have to push it down.”

“Okay.” 'She isn't arguing.' Kanye backed off her.

'He's erect again. Still.' He knelt there before her, upright, his cock standing up rigidly from his crotch. Lucille licked her lips as she raised her ass to slide the housecoat down to her feet. 'If he comes for me...' Stopping him would be the right thing to do – but if he pressed her, it wasn't going to happen. If he made demands, she would comply. The housecoat cleared her feet; Lucille tossed it aside. "I'm wearing a nightgown."

“Remove it, too.” Kanye paused for a moment, then added, “Please.”

“Very well.” 'We're back to 'Please' and 'Thank you', at least...' She'd known this was coming, instinctively, so she'd made sure the nightgown wasn't trapped under her ass. It went over her head and she settled back. “Kanye...”

“Just let me touch you,” Kanye cut her off. “Tell me where I am and what I'm doing – what I need to know.” He crawled forward and surprised her by settling over her belly, his cock WAY too close while he explored her hair with his fingers.

He explored her – every millimeter of her flesh felt his fingers in the next twenty minutes. He avoided her pussy, initially, but he mapped her breasts intensively, asking questions as he toyed with her nipples, noting the tightening of the areolas and the extension of the nipples themselves as they became suffused with blood. Lucille felt constrained to answer honestly, so she withheld nothing. He roamed his fingers over the surfaces of her body, first over her front, then her back side, tasting the surfaces with his fingers, then molding the flesh in his hands.

He saved her crotch for last. When he began exploring there with his fingers, Lucille put her hands out to stop him, but he just said, “Don't. This is important. You KNOW that.” As he slid a finger up along the wet, pink channel between her swollen labia, he muttered, “You're going to have to suck me again.” Lucille stopped interfering; the deal was made. He wouldn't initiate – wouldn't take things further than they'd already gone. Besides, his cock was hanging there, bouncing gently to his heartbeat, pre-cum drooling from the tip, slowly. “Tell me how this feels,” he directed, as his fingers probed the opening of her vagina.

Kanye did a full exploration – her pubic fur, her vaginal lips, her clitoris, the interior of her vagina itself, then on to her perineum, and even the wrinkled bud of her anus. He probed the opening, but Lucille got him to stop there, gasping, “It's not clean.”

“Have you...?”

“...Had a cock in there? Yes. A few times. Not many.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Some. I need help, though – other stimulation.”

“I see.” Kanye's lips quirked – as they always did when he used that particular phrase. His fingers moved back to her cunt. “I've been smelling your arousal, haven't I?”

“Yes.” Lying about it would be stupid.

“What caused it.”

'Uh oh. True confessions time.' “I caught you... pleasuring yourself. You have a beautiful penis.”

“Penis...” Kanye's lips quirked again. “Who calls it that?”

“Well...”

“You were trying to keep things clinical?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn't work when you call it beautiful.”

“Maybe not.” Lucille's wry expression bled through to her voice.

“Okay. Tell me how I'm doing.” Kanye returned his mouth to Lucille's mons.

“Omigod! Kanye! Omigod!”

“I'm going to need to know what I'm doing!” Kanye insisted, rising as her hands pressed him back.

“Yes, but...”

“No buts! Tell me!” He dove back in.

'Does he need this? Or is it an excuse?' Wondering kept her busy long enough to bring her to the point where resistance was difficult, at best.

“Well?” Kanye popped back up.

“Yes! There!”

“Guide my head!”

“I...” Kanye swatted her on a butt cheek. “Okay!” She collected his head and guided him to her clitoris. “There! Yes! Omigod! Too much!” She backed him down her furrow and his tongue stabbed out, penetrating her. “Oh! Yes! There! Yes!” She wanted his cock, but didn't dare ask for it. “Swipe upward with your... Uhgh! Omigod!”

Kanye more or less took over at that point, swiping his tongue up her pink channel and teasing her clit while sliding a finger into her cunt. Lucille's hips were undulating in under thirty seconds. She screamed, arched herself, and dribbled pussy juice as her pussy milked Kanye's finger while orgasm held her in its grip.

Instinct told Kanye that he could control Lucille anytime he got her aroused enough – especially if he could provide an excuse or a bit of misdirection. There were limits, though. He could crawl up over her and slide his cock into her – and there wouldn't be more than a token resistance – but there would be a backlash. Lucille would take him back to the agency and they'd BOTH be fucked! As it was, he was walking the line – but he had the excuse that he needed to learn these things. 'She'll tell me we can't ever do it again, blah, blah, blah... -- but if I don't get stupid, it will go no further than that. And eventually, she'll cave in again.' In the meantime, he crawled up and brought his cock to her lips. Lucille said nothing; they'd made a deal, more or less, and she owed him. She wrapped her lips around his plush glans and when he rolled onto his back, she followed him, coming up on her hands and knees and continuing to suck.

This time, collecting Kanye's semen took several minutes – several INCREDIBLE minutes, as far as Kanye was concerned! He wanted to feed Lucille his entire cock – and, truth be told, Lucille wanted it – but it seemed rude, so he controlled himself as best he could. Lucille delivered her very best non-deep-throat blowjob, which may not have been smart, as it set up a craving in both of them. Lucille loved Kanye's cum, and collecting it wasn't a chore. He was so masculine, so virile. She recognized the fact that she had submitted to him, but she did a thing that women do – she compartmentalized it. 'It's only during sex.' Well, maybe it was. Maybe it would be. And then again, maybe not... Lucille's thought process didn't take into account the fact that Kanye could influence that situation, strongly.

Eventually, though, Kanye's cock swelled and hardened to the point that every bulging vein stood out in bold relief on the shaft and the underside bulged as globs of semen hurtled along the delivery channel to deposit themselves in Lucile's mouth. Again, the flood was copious, but welcome. Lucille's pussy pulsed – not an orgasm, but an announcement that the flood would have been welcome there.

It was over, though, at that point. Lucille got up and backed off the bed. Kanye, who had a clear understanding of how far you could go with someone from his experience with others he had to get help from, limited himself to “Thank you!” He didn't try to press for more – no request for Lucille to spend the night or for sex. Things were going to be touch and go for a couple of days, as it was, he figured. If he pressed for more, he would cross a line and Lucille would be forced to take him back to the agency – by her conscience, more or less. As it was, he might ALREADY have crossed that line – but the fact that she came to him led him to believe that he hadn't pushed things THAT hard. Time would tell...

Lucille went off to her bedroom wondering, 'What on Earth was I thinking?' It was done, though – they just had to deal with it. 'I'll just explain in the morning that the whole thing wasn't smart and that we can't repeat it. He'll understand.'

Kanye DID understand – better than Lucille, perhaps. He knew better than to bring the subject up – or even act differently. He pretended it hadn't happened, knowing that it would ease Lucille's mind. It did, too. When she bought the subject up after breakfast on Sunday, she was comfortable that Kanye wouldn't get balky.

“About last night...”

“I want to thank you for letting me learn like that,” Kanye interjected, “It was above and beyond, and I appreciate it.”

Lucille, further eased, moved ahead with the obligatory limitation. “You're welcome. I'm sure you understand that we really can't repeat it.”

“It's an issue, certainly,” Kanye said agreeably. It sounded good – and Lucille didn't notice that it wasn't actual agreement.

“Good, then it's settled.” Lucille turned away; Kanye said nothing, thinking, 'She came once – she'll come again. All I have to do is be patient.'