"Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Mark's head popped up, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, "What?"
"What are you doing?"
"Eating you?" it came out as a question, and Ruth stared at him, aghast and embarrassed for him. He knelt on the floor, looking up from between her spread thighs. He licked his upper lip as blood began rushing to his cheeks. "I mean 'eating you.'"
"Have you ever done this before?"
"Yeah, lot's of times. I went down on a chick a couple of-"
"Have you ever done this before?"
"A couple of times," he muttered as his face turned crimson.
Ruth leaned forward, taking his cheeks in her hands "You're awful at this, but we can fix that." She leaned back, draping her legs over the arms of the chair. "We're going to school."
Mark stared at her, mouth agape. "I don't under-"
"I know. We'll fix that," she repeated. "We'll start at the top." She pressed her finger tips against the rising flesh a few inches below her navel. "This is the mons. I wax, some shave, some let it grow."
"Yeah, um, I know this stu-"
"Mark. I don't care if you passed health class. This is for women. Maybe we'll be together for years, maybe we'll break up in a couple of months. But if you can't eat a woman, you're not going to get anywhere."
He blinked, dumbfounded, and nodded.
"This is where the uterus is," she continued tapped just below her waist. "Pretty much nothing that happens in there will have anything to do with you." She rested her fingers around the crest of her vagina. "These are the labia, the ones outside are called major, and the ones inside are called minor. They're sensitive to touch, heat, pressure, and all that, but they aren't the end all be all."
She brought her fingers together,lifting her labia, exposing a wrapped fingertip of flesh, "This is the cli-"
"Clit!" Mark called out, her head snapped up, and she smirked at his smile.
""This is the clitoral HOOD. it's like a foreskin. It protects the clit from direct contact."
"The clit is a mountain of nerve endings. Some women can cum just from running their thighs together because they're so sensitive."
"Really. And this," Ruth parted her labia from the center, drawing them back, "is the vagina. Just that hole, pretty much."
"Okay. First lesson, Mark. Hold me under my thighs, next to my butt, and kiss my inner thighs. Good," she murmured. "Take your thumbs and stroke the labia gently. Keep kissing: We're building a fire. Good. Okay, spread the labia with your thumbs and run your tongue through from bottom to top, get everything nice and wet."
Ruth shuddered, as he made contact. "O... Okay, now we're going to play a game." Mark looked up confused and Ruth smiled at his puppy dog expression. "You're going to spell your name over and over until I tell you to stop."
"Um... 'M', 'A'-"
"With your tongue, Mark. Trace your name across the inside of my labia with your tongue."
Mark leaned in, his tongue tip leading him, and he fell to his task, ""Ike 'is?"
"Shut up and yes," Ruth hissed.
Her head rolled as M's became A's became R's became K's and returned to M's. "Give me your hand," she moaned. She set his palm against her mons, pressing his thumbing against her hood. "Rub!" She spasmed and grasped the back of his head. "O.... O... Okay, push your middle finger inside meeeee...."
Ruth's stomach fluttered as Mark found his rhythm, his finger sliding, his thumb rubbing, and his tongue writing. "Feel inside the front," she gasped, "You'll feel a soft part and if you rub it I'll c-"
Her back arched, her ass clenching as waves crashed within her. Mark diligently hung on, maintaining presence and pressure. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Mark released her, withdrawing his finger and thumb, and began stroking her thighs.
"Just like that, Mark."