Like Seabiscuit

"Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you (Woo woo woo). What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson? Joltin' Joe has left and gone away" Simon and Garfunkel from "Mrs Robinson"

My eyes opened to a startling, all be it wondrous, sight. The nurse was sitting on the nearby electro-shock treatment apparatus with her right leg bent like a dirty version of Anne Bancroft in the Graduate. Her loins must have had a four alarm fire burning because she was eyeing me up, eyebrows bouncing, and eye lashes fluttering. I could almost hear the Barry White in the background. A lesson in seduction was about to be learned.

At the tender age of twenty-two I thought I knew all there was to know about seduction. The divide between what I thought I knew and what I really knew was wider than the Atlantic Ocean, but I was clueless. Sure I had gotten over on a few girls using my then trademarked combination of wit and booze, but when I met Kathy that all changed.

She was my senior by twenty years with a great set of thick, cherry red lips. I remember those mouth guards like I remember short division, it's ingrained in my brain whether I want it there or not. She was built like a crystal vase, smooth, round in the proper proportions, able to keep my pistol and stamen straight for great lengths of time. Those were some hazy years for me as Captain Morgan and I were just getting started on our life together, but I recall with total clarity every inch of her form.

Kathy was a teacher, not by profession, but by ability. On our first libidinous lesson she was completely about me. Asking constantly if I liked a certain touch or wiggle, letting me know that it was okay to say no. Lavishing me when I groaned as the words failed me. I felt like a stud horse being milked dry of my worthy seed. As I lay twitching in the afterglow Kathy whispered in my ear that our next encounter would require seduction on my part. No problem, I was at an all time confidence high.

Two nights later she returned to find booze and dinner waiting for her arrival. We ate in near silence and I was sure it was going according to plan. After dinner I suggested we move tot he bedroom when she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. I was mystified. She informed me that though the meal was excellent, I hadn't seduced even a kiss from her plump lips, let alone the entire Mr. Toad's Wild Ride experience. She gave me homework.

I asked around to women that I knew and trusted. What did they find sexy, romantic, how could they be seduced. For another night with her I would have scaled the mountains of Tibet to ask the Dalia Lama himself for some pointers.

A week later she returned, I was sure that I was prepared. A fire roared in the fireplace, roses were strewn about the entire apartment, candles flickered, and the stereo played some smooth jazz at a barely audible level. I greeted her at the door, taking her coat and wrapping my arms around her from behind. I whispered in her ear that she looked incredible. Smelling her neck I took a quick kiss to taste her perfume. We walked to the table and I proceeded to feed her grapes and chocolate covered strawberries, engaged in conversation but never letting my eyes off of her. When the moment felt right, I kissed her with a head of passion, taking hold of the hair at the base of her head, gently pulling it back to kiss her neck, her collarbone, and down to the cleave of her blouse. Her sighs and oohs were enough to tell me that it was time to move to the main event.

I asked questions, I followed instructions, and I made the whole experience about her pleasure, as she had done for me. She taught me things that I still do to this very day. She showed a young boy how to treat a woman, how to romance, how to perform seductions. For that I will always have a place in my heart, down in the cockles, for my very own Mrs. Robinson.

Dixie Cup of Love: The Educators.