Computer Based Seduction

When I gave my old PC to my next door neighbor, I did not intend to give him my virginity. After all, he had been a friend of my parents longer than I had been alive. He was older than my father. Also, I had been going steady with my high school sweetheart for two years. I had intended to save my virginity for him, and our wedding night. However, we had a quarrel that angered me so much that I neglected my intentions. By the time I became aware of my neighbor’s intentions, I was too excited to resist. I had thought the presence of his wife would keep me safe. Surprisingly, she approved of his efforts, offering him encouragement and advice.

But I am getting ahead of my story. Last Christmas my parents gave me a new PC. My mother suggested that I give my old PC to our next door neighbors, the Henderson’s, and teach them how to use it. The idea of being able to help Mr. Henderson learn anything really appealed to me. He is so intelligent and sophisticated. He has retired recently after a distinguished career as an economist for a national bank. The Henderson home is full of books, which give indication of having been read at least once. The Henderson’s have often helped me with school projects.

However, I was surprised that the Henderson’s did not even know how to type. Mr. Henderson was embarrassed to admit that. “I always had a secretary,” he explained. Also, computer technology was an entirely new world to them. I had to keep going over the most basic concepts. I had been unaware of how much of my knowledge was non-verbal. I liked to teach them by telling them what to do, rather than showing them. I encouraged them to take notes, and to do everything step by step. Unfortunately, I often neglected to explain important steps, because I had worked with PCs and Microsoft for several years, and much of my knowledge had become intuitive.

Because I had no idea how to teach them typing, I suggested they take typing lessons at the local community college. I did not even try to explain to them how to get hooked up to the internet. I simply told them what to get from the phone company, and I installed internet access for them. Then I began to show them how much fun the internet could be. I googled Mr. Henderson’s name, and got well over a hundred web sites detailing his career and accomplishments. I was really proud of him. He was even more important than I had been aware of. Mr. Henderson was also surprised, and learned about the usually complimentary opinions people he was hardly aware of had about him. Nevertheless, because neither of them could type, they had to use the hunt and peck method. This was time consuming.

I gave them a lesson nearly every week. I looked forward to it. My parents had moved into our home before I was born. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson had lived in their home before my parents moved in. My earliest childhood memories were often connected with them. I always loved to visit them. I have to admit it was somewhat frustrating teaching them, though. With every lesson it seemed that we had to start all over again with the first step. I gained an enhanced appreciation of the difficulty some of my teachers may have had with me over the years. Still, I was patient, and they were determined to learn.

After several months of this, when they still did not seem to be learning very much, my boy friend, and I had a serious quarrel. We had argued before, but this time I was really hurt and angry. I wondered how we could get together again after what we had said to each other. When I went to the Henderson home the next time for their lesson, they could tell that I was upset. Mrs. Henderson asked, “Is something troubling you, Dear?”

“Not really,” I lied, “It’s just that Jeff and I had a fight. He can be so mean sometimes.”

“I can’t understand why any boy would be mean to you,” Mr. Henderson said. “If you want, you can tell us about it. You are like a daughter to us. We have known you all of your life, and watched you grow up to become a beautiful young woman.”

That was all I needed. I began to tell the details of our quarrel, and it was not long before I began to cry. “Sit on Ralph’s lap,” Mrs. Henderson said. “That will make you feel better.”

I had not sat on Mr. Henderson’s lap since I was a little girl, but when his wife invited me to, it seemed all right, so I did. “The last time I sat on your lap I was six years old,” I told him, “and I had been stung by a bee. I was crying then, too.”

“I certainly remember that,” Mr. Henderson said. “Whatever hurts you hurts me even more.”

“You’re such a sweet man,” I said hugging him, and kissing him on the cheek. He responded by kissing me on the lips. I had certainly not expected that, but I kind of liked it. I was even surprised to feel a tingling in my vagina. “You mustn’t do that in front of your wife,” I said, giggling.

“Well, Edith, what do you have to say about it?” Mr. Henderson asked.

“It stopped her from crying, Ralph. Kiss her again.” He did.

“I think we had better start our computer lesson,” I said.

“There’ll be time for that,” Mrs. Henderson said. “I can tell you’re enjoying this. I know Ralph is. I’m enjoying it too.”

I was enjoying it, particularly after the pain and anger I felt from my quarrel with Jeff. Mr. Henderson kept talking soothingly to me, as though I was a little girl again with a bee sting. I felt so safe and protected with him. As we talked he put his right hand inside of my dress, and held the outside of my left thigh. Because his wife was with us, this still felt innocent. It also felt unexpectedly good, and even a little bit sexy. Mr. Henderson was so mature and did not try to rush things like a boy my age would have. He knew exactly what I wanted, and how much. It was almost like he could read my mind.

The fact that he was an older man even made him seem more exciting. How many of my girl friends had ever made out — I had to admit that was what we were doing — with a man older than their fathers? Only, he was not just any man, but a man I had liked and respected as long as I could remember. As a matter of fact, I even had a crush on him before I met Jeff. Now the crush was coming back stronger than ever.

The Henderson’s and I began having a nice “grownup” conversation. They were more interesting to talk to then kids my own age. It was as though they thought I was an adult. As we talked it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Mr. Henderson and I to kiss on the lips from time to time. I even started some of these kisses myself, although I did not put my tongue in his mouth, like I sometimes did with Jeff. Mr. Henderson would have thought I was fast if I did that.

Nevertheless, I became somewhat nervous again when Mr. Henderson put his right hand between my legs, and held the inside of my right thigh. I tried to sound calm. “Mr. Henderson, shouldn’t we be starting our lesson?” Of course, I was aware that we were beginning another kind of lesson, one that I had to admit I was enjoying.

“I know, as only a wife can, how good that feels, Nancy,” Mrs. Henderson said. “You mustn’t resist.” I tried not to, but when Mr. Henderson began to move his fingers closer to the crotch of my panties, I held his hand, and tried to pull it out of my dress. I did not try very hard. He ignored my effort. It sounds crazy, but I thought it would be rude to use more force. After my parents, Mr. Henderson and Mrs. Henderson were my favorite adults. I did not want to hurt Mr. Henderson’s feelings. However, I was getting more nervous. I also did not want him to discover how excited I was. Of course he knew. When he reached my panties, he ran his fingers along my slit. Then he put his fingers inside of my panties, and discovered, what he must have known, how wet I was.

“Mr. Henderson, please! I don’t even let Jeff touch me there.”

“How delightful,” Mr. Henderson said, “Then I’m the first.” He kept moving his fingers inside of my sodden slit. “Yes, I am really the first. You are a virgin like you told Edith.” Mrs. Henderson was someone I could always tell my secrets to, even secrets I did not tell my mother. “You are an honest girl, Nancy, and a virtuous one.”

“I don’t feel virtuous now,” I said.

“You feel virtuous to me, and that makes you more desirable. You feel good, don’t you?”

“I wish I didn’t enjoy this so much, but I do.”

“I’m glad you do enjoy it. Otherwise, you might make me stop.” Mr. Henderson began to rub my clitoris slowly and gently as I would do when masturbating. When I masturbated I usually thought of Jeff, but sometimes I thought of Mr. Henderson. Now what I had fantasized while masturbating was actually happening. Only Mrs. Henderson was approving. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that.

“Mr. Henderson,” I whispered, “this feels so good.”

“Enjoy it, Dear,” Mrs. Henderson said, soothingly. “You have my full permission.” Mrs. Henderson walked around, so she could see my face.

As I could feel my orgasm coming Mr. Henderson began to rub my clitoris more rapidly, as I would have done. He did not need for me to tell him anything. He knew exactly what I wanted, and how to give me the most pleasure. After I had my orgasm, he knew to stop. He took his hand out from my dress, and held me gently with both hands, kissing me. “Mr. Henderson, that was wonderful,” I whispered. “It was so much better than when I do that myself.”

“Nancy, you looked so beautiful when you had your orgasm,” Mrs. Henderson said. I wish I could have taken a photo of your face.”

“Please don’t get a camera.”

“Of course I won’t, Dear.”

“You mustn’t tell anyone about this,” Mr. Henderson said.

I smiled. “One of the nice things about doing this with an older man is that he wants to keep it private too,” I said. “If I did this with any boy other than Jeff it would be all over the school.’

“This will be our precious secret,” Mrs. Henderson said. Mr. Henderson and I will talk about it to each other, but we’ll never tell anyone else.”

“Thank you.” I said, greatly relieved, and trying to regain my composure. Because a computer lesson was out of the question I said, “I think I better go home now.” I did not say, “I want to go home now,” because that would have been dishonest.

“You mustn’t go home yet,” Mrs. Henderson said. “Ralph hasn’t done anything for himself yet.”

“That’s true,” Mr. Henderson said, as he motioned for me to get off of his lap. “Lift up your dress,” he commanded.

As I obeyed, I asked foolishly, “Why?”

“So I can pull down your panties.” I knew he was going to say that, but when I heard him say it I became even wetter. “That’s good, Nancy, pull your dress up a bit higher, so Edith can see.”

“Look how soft and smooth her flesh is,” he said to his wife.

“Yes, I certainly see,” Mrs. Henderson said.

Then Mr. Henderson slowly pulled my panties down below my knees, so that I could not pull them up again without bending over. “You really are a woman, Nancy,” he said.

“You make me feel like a woman,” was all I could say.

“And you certainly make me feel like a man.”

“This really looks beautiful,” Mrs. Henderson said. “I’m getting excited myself.

“Mr. Henderson gently and slowly ran his fingers up and down my slit. “Does it feel good when I do this?”

“Yes it does,” I said softly.

Mr. Henderson removed my panties completely, and began untying my shoes as his wife walked behind me, unzipped and removed my dress, and unfastened my bra, before taking it off. I was too excited to resist. Then she walked in front of me to look. “Aren’t you beautiful,” she exclaimed. “I wish I still had a figure like that. Your breasts are large, and round, but firm. Your nipples, are hard with arousal, and the same delicious shade of pink as your lips. Your belly is flat and firm. Your waist is small. Your hips spread out like the top of a Valentine heart. Your furry vulva has the mystery of life and love inside of it. Your thighs are slender and athletic.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

By now it was obvious to all three of us that I was about to make love for the first time in my life. I had recently celebrated my eighteenth birthday with Jeff, the Henderson’s, my parents, and a few girl friends. Therefore, I was suddenly “legal.” I did not feel legal. I felt like a little girl in a woman’s body. Only, right now my woman’s body was telling me that it wanted Mr. Henderson’s penis more than anything else in the world. Still, I tried my last defense. “I don’t want to get pregnant,” I protested.

“We don’t want you to either, Dear,” Mrs. Henderson said. “I bought a package of condoms. I don’t ovulate anymore, but we didn’t want anything to go wrong on your first time.”

“Did you plan all of this?”

“Yes,” Mr. Henderson said. “And we’ve been looking forward to it for a long time.”

I still had difficulty believing this was happening. Nevertheless, I had long since lost the will to resist. When Mr. Henderson took my hand and led me into their bed room I meekly followed. Once inside, Mrs. Henderson got a towel, and lay it on their bed to catch my virginal blood. Mr. Henderson quickly undressed. Soon he revealed a very hard and erect penis. His wife took the package of condoms from their dresser. The package had never been opened. It was larger than I expected. “There are so many of them,” I said.

“Our hope is that your first time will not be our last time,” Mr. Henderson explained.

Mrs. Henderson opened the package, unwrapped one of the condoms, walked over to her husband, kissed him on the lips, and said, “It’s finally happening, Dear. Enjoy. You know I love you.”

“And I love you too,” he said as Mrs. Henderson affectionately covered her husband’s penis with the condom.

Mrs. Henderson sat in a chair to watch. I lay on the bed and spread my legs. “It will hurt at first,” she warned. “Then you will feel more pleasure than you ever knew existed.”

She was right about the pain. I thought that because I was so lubricated he would go in easily. I was wrong. “She’s really tight,” Mr. Henderson told his wife as he began his assault.

“Keep pushing, Dear,” Mrs. Henderson said. “You had to push hard to break mine.”

“I certainly remember that, Darling.”

“Mr. Henderson, this really does hurt,” I protested. “Please.”

“Hold me tightly,” he said.

“Aw!” I cried, as he broke my hymen.

“Oh!” he said with delight as a broad smile covered his face. Then he pushed deeply into where no man or boy had gone before. I had used Kotex tampons a few times, so I knew how it felt to have something in my vagina. Only his penis was longer, thicker, and so very vital. As the pain wore off, I felt the beginning of a vaginal orgasm. This was more satisfying than a clitoral orgasm.

“Mr. Henderson,” I said, “This feels better and better.”

“I said you would enjoy it, Dear,” Mrs. Henderson said.

When I had my first orgasm, Mr. Henderson knew. “You just had an orgasm, didn’t you, Nancy?”

“Yes I sure did.”

As Mr. Henderson continued his coital movements I began to move my hips in conjunction with his. “Thank you,” he said. “That makes this even better.”

Mrs. Henderson sat on the edge of the bed, took one of my hands in hers, kissed it, looked at me with an expression of kindness and affection, and said, “You’re doing very well, Dear. Thank you so much for pleasing my husband. This is very important to him.”

After giving me several more orgasms — I had lost count — Mr. Henderson had his, and collapsed into my breasts. I loved the look of rapture on his face as he climaxed. “Nancy, that was so wonderful.”

“It was good for me, too. Thank you, Mr. Henderson.”

When he got out of me I looked at his bloody, condom covered penis, and was surprised to see that the condom held so much semen. “A drop of that could have gotten you pregnant,” he said. “But you won’t have to worry about that.” I lay looking at the man who was my conqueror, and my instructor. As we enjoyed our post coital afterglow, nothing else seemed to exist. I even briefly forgot his wife who had done so much to bring this about. After the longest time, she kissed her husband, telling him, “I am so proud of you, Dear.” Then she said to me she said, “Now you get to wash him.”

When we got to their bathroom I gently pulled the condom off of Mr. Henderson’s now flaccid penis. I flushed it down the toilet, although that seemed like an inappropriate destination for such a precious fluid from such a precious man. Then I got his wash cloth nice and sudsy, and scrubbed him. I had only seen my dad’s genitals before, and not since I was about nine years old. Mr. Henderson’s looked about the same. His penis was just the right size to fit into my vagina: not too big, not too small, just right.

After I dried Mr. Henderson with his towel we put our clothes back on. I carefully straightened my dress, and looked at myself in the mirror to make sure there were no tell tale signs of what had happened.

When we were back in their study, Mr. Henderson told me, “We have a confession to make. First of all, we both can type. Second, we are not as stupid as we pretended to be. Personal computers were new to us, but we used what you taught us, and learned quite a bit by ourselves. He sat down at the key board, and typing faster than I could, he showed me a few tricks that even I did not know, such as how to change the desk top background. He also showed me e-mail accounts that they had created for themselves.

“Why did you hide your knowledge?” I asked.

“To keep you coming back. The first time you came over here to teach us it was obvious to both of us that you were unseducable. We thought if you kept coming the opportunity might still arise. When you told us about your fight with Jeff, I knew I could have you,” Mr. Henderson explained.

“Ever since you began to turn into a woman Ralph wanted to be your first,” Mrs. Henderson added. “Sometimes when making love we do some roll playing. We both pretend that I am you. When we do that, Ralph is even more passionate than usual.”

“Much of success is due to the ability to recognize when an opportunity exists, and to know how to exploit it,” Mr. Henderson explained. “One must also recognize when an opportunity does not exist, and avoid wasting time and effort on it. This was particularly true for what I was attempting. Unwanted sexual attentions from me would have destroyed the friendship I have with your parents. It might even have got me arrested. Now that I have seduced you in ways that were obviously consensual, you have as much reason to keep quiet about it as I do.”

“We trust you enough to know that you will not accuse Ralph of rape, Nancy,” Mrs. Henderson said. “But if you did, there would not be a semen sample for DNA testing.”

“Maybe I should be angry at you,” I admitted, “but I am really flattered that you thought I was so desirable, and so difficult to seduce. “

“Oh, we knew that, Dear,” Mrs. Henderson said. “Any girl who can go steady with a boy for two years and remain a virgin will not be easy.”

“But very satisfying after it is done,” Mr. Henderson said with a proud smile.

“Well, I want you both to know this was the most exciting and wonderful experience in my life.”

“I’ll say it was my second, after taking Edith’s virginity on our wedding night.”

After a long pause, I said, “I know this sounds crazy, but I still love Jeff. I want to make up with him. Do you think he’ll forgive me after this?”

“He’ll be hurt at first,” Mrs. Henderson said, “but he will forgive you. I can tell that he looks up to my husband. When he learns it was Ralph who did this instead of a boy at your school, that will make a big difference in your favor.”

“If he asks me about it, I will tell him how difficult you were to seduce, and how long I had to wait,” Mr. Henderson said. “It is not unusual for a man to get excited watching another man make love to his wife or girl friend. Jeff may come to enjoy watching us together as much as Edith does.”