Chapter 11

Mary wrinkled her nose at me, then pecked me with a light kiss, saying, "If that's what getting murdered was like, every woman in the world would be lined up at your door, volunteering for a chance to get done in. I particularly like your choice of a weapon, and I must say you use it with true artistry." Then she threw her head back and laughed, exclaiming, "And to think, I really was worried about the possibility of a teaching career being dull and unexciting."

Matching her spirit, I told her, "I'll bet that stuffy old school board wouldn't approve of you teaching a fancy fucking class, but as long as they don't know, it can't hurt 'em. Tell me, Miss Mary, ma'am, would you consider doing some private tutoring?"

She kissed me, then murmured, "I thought you'd never ask. I think I can predict a terrific teacher-student relationship developing between us."

"I'll work hard, ma'am," I answered. "I'll do my very best to advance the science of communication and the art of instruction." Then I added humbly, "If you're sure you think I'm qualified?"

Mary smiled tenderly, "Oh, you definitely qualify, love. Never before have I been so fortunate as to have such a highly qualified student!"

I chuckled, pleased that this first experience with me had been so satisfying for her. I made my cock jump inside her, causing her to gasp. I asked her, "When do you think we could take some field trips, Mary mine?"

"Vince darling, I love the way your mind works! It's busy all the time."

"Well," I said, "When you have a teacher who stimulates her pupil the way you do me, you can't help yourself. The ideas crowd in faster than I can handle them."

She looked up at me with a mischievous grin playing around the corners of her sweet mouth. She said, "Any time you have a problem you can't work out, drop by my apartment after school; I'll be happy to help you with your homework."

For a month I knocked at Mary's door ten minutes after school let out each day, just like I was programmed. She'd let me in, close the door quickly, then nestle her delightful, sweet-smelling bod so close to me I couldn't move.

Around school, of course, we had to conceal our feeling for each other. We had to refrain from even the smallest expression or gesture that might stir suspicion. But that only seemed to make the whole situation even more exciting.

I really had it made, because, of course, Mary was only one member of the luscious harem of passionate females I was keeping satisfied. Heidi arranged regular sessions with me each week all the rest of that winter, too. And the mother-daughter team of Sandras stood the strain of keeping things cooler between us for only about a month, then they too renewed their demands for my services.

It was the following summer before I further expanded my investigation into the relative merits of different types of used ladies. Actually, my becoming involved with Madge was completely accidental. For years my parents have owned a modest summer place on a good trout stream in the mountains. Upstream everything is forest reserve except a former homestead tract owned by a church in our town and operated as a church camp. Madge was up there as a counselor, her husband being the pastor of the church. She slipped away one day in search of peace and quiet in some secluded place and wandered off the church property over onto our land.

I was out fishing that day, at least pretending to. I was half asleep, sitting in the shade, fishing like I was after catfish or something like that out of warm water instead of fishing for trout. Suddenly I heard this sobbing voice praying, "Oh, dear Lord, help me! Why am I so frigid? Why do I hate so having my husband touch me?"

I sat up straight, my interest really perking. But the voice lowered so I couldn't catch any more of it after that. I'd heard enough to hook my interest. Trying to hang loose like I'd been, relaxed and almost snoozing, was impossible.

I reeled in my fishline and stashed my rod where it'd be safe until I got around to picking it up. Then I eased into the brush like an old bear on the scent of a bee-tree, starting to work my way toward that mournful voice. Obviously a female somebody needed help and I was just ready to do my duty.

I made like a commando or Green Beret slipping in through the brush on an enemy position. I didn't want to startle the lady in distress, naturally. I came upon a little opening in the brush and trees just in time to see a real interesting female ass disappearing into the trees on the other side of that clear space.

I realized what was ahead in the direction she was headed and got even more hopeful. I knew about the next open space she'd find in the forest was where a hot spring came out of the mountain, forming a nice warm pool that was about perfect in size and depth to be great for swimming, then overflowed to form a little stream that meandered down through the forest and joined our trout stream.

Sure enough, she found the pool and started a debate with herself. "Wouldn't it feel wonderful just to relax and float in that warm water and let it melt away all my cares?" she murmured after testing the water temp with a finger. By then I'd gotten positioned in the nearby brush where I could get a good look at her. Her old-fashioned kind of clothing made her look sort of dowdy, but even those clothes couldn't hide her lines. Remembering her mournful plea for help with her problem of being a frigid wife, I realized what a tragedy I was being called upon to prevent.

Anyhow, the next thing she said was, "But I couldn't ... I haven't any swimming clothing." When no one else spoke up to argue that point with her, she said, "When I was a little girl back home on the farm and no one else was anywhere around, I used to go skinny-dipping in daddy's big stock tank." She hugged her arms across her nice full tits and seemed to kind of shiver. Then she murmured, "But I'm not a little girl, anymore. I'm a grown woman. I'm supposed to be a responsible adult."

She went quiet again, then declared abruptly, a lot of emphasis behind it, "I'm too responsible! Too inhibited! My dear husband means well, but it'd do me good to feel daring again like I used to feel sometimes. It'd even do me good to feel wicked ... and enjoy it, instead of feeling so guilty all the time about sanctimonious trivials. It'd do me good!" She stomped her foot.

Suddenly she began pulling off her clothes, like she was hurrying to get out of them before she lost her nerve. When those clothes came off, man, what a body I found myself feasting my eyes upon. She probably was in her middle thirties, a later model than either of my other used ladies, and with a hell of a lot less mileage on her than either of them had at the same age.

Back there in the brush I began getting out of my clothes too. My mouth was watering like I was getting ready to fill it with my favorite dessert. My cock was throbbing, starting to ache, it had gotten so hard. I was ready to bring her the answer to her prayers.

She went diving into the pool, and the way she cut into the water it was obvious that despite the look of her clothing she'd done some swimming sometime. The instant the water closed over her head, while her bare ass was still in midair above the water, I sprinted for the edge of the pool. As her toes disappeared under the water's surface, I launched myself out over it in a dive.

She probably heard the concussion of my body hitting the water even though she was under the surface. As I swooped toward the bottom, I looked through the crystal-like water and saw a pair of long, tapered legs standing in it not too far ahead. I figured she'd probably come up and was looking around to find what had caused the sound. Up where those lovely legs joined her lower body I saw a triangle of golden pussy curls. I homed in on that like a guided missile going for its target.

My head shot in between those gorgeous, long legs. As her ass smacked against my shoulders, my feet touched the sandy bottom. I straightened, shooting her up out of the water astride my neck.

A startled shriek blasted my eardrums as my head came out of the water. I ducked sideways, spilling her. Her shriek shot upward shrilly, then was chopped off as she went into the water and it closed over her.

She surfaced less than an arm's reach from me. Talk about someone being the picture of outrage. But her ripe, luscious tits were thrust out invitingly toward me upon the water's surface and that's what took my full attention, not her outrage.

Real low she snapped threateningly, "If you don't get out of this pool and away from here this very instant, I'm going to scream so loud there'll be thirty people-"

I interrupted loudly, informing her, "You'll be awfully embarrassed, if you do. Who's going to believe I forced you to go swimming with me naked?"

It was her turn to cut in before I could say more, obviously not intimidated in the least by anything I'd said so far as she declared, "I'll have you know, this property belongs to a church and I'm the pastor's wife and you have no way you can explain your presence in-"

I cut in again, stopping her this time but good with the information, "This property and this pool does not belong to a church! It belongs to my family and has belonged to my family for more than fifteen years. You're the trespasser, lady, who has no possible way to explain why you're in our pool naked with me if you didn't want to be."

Her mouth dropped open in amazement, but at the time I thought she was about to scream like she'd threatened. I warned, "You'd better be careful about letting anyone else know a thing about you being here in the nude and a trespasser on our property the way you are."

Her hands flew up to her face as she clouded up suddenly, about to cry. She looked scared to death. I felt like a damned heel, just that quick. I soothed, "There isn't a thing to worry about, if you just don't panic. You prayed for help to cure you of being frigid, didn't you?" That seemed to startle her so she forgot all about going ahead with the cry she'd been getting primed. I rushed on while I was ahead. "The lord sent me as an answer to your prayer."

The outrage came flashing back and she snapped, "That's sacrilege!"

I shook my head and calmly countered, "No sacrilege at all, only the plain truth. How did you expect to get cured of being frigid?"

That seemed to stump her. While she stared at me, her mouth open again, I reached out both hands and cupped each one around a luscious big ripe tit. I don't know for certain what the touch of my hands on her tits did to her but I know it sent tremors of wild excitement racing through my belly muscles. It seemed almost like the very first time I'd ever cupped a female tit in my hand, I felt that excited.

A startled expression flashed over her lovely face. In a strangled voice she gasped, "How dare ... you!"

"You like the way it feels, don't you?" I countered.

She snapped, "I don't feel a thing!"

I said, "Then you must be dead, or you would. But I think you're lying. I think you're feeling more great feelings than you've enjoyed in a long, long time."

"You're wrong!" she gasped in a choking whisper.

"They why're you having such a problem breathing?" I chided. "Is breathing always so difficult for you?"

She shook her head, her mouth working but no sound coming from it. Finally she gasped, "At least I shouldn't be feeling anything!"

"Who told you so?" I demanded.

"My mother!" she gasped. Strangely enough, unless my hands were creating so much sensation in her she'd been paralyzed by it, she hadn't made a move to pull her tits away from my caressing hands. I glanced at the nipples. They said any talk about her not feeling a thing was a lie; they were taut with excitement. I glanced up as she added in that same strangled, breathless whisper, "When I first began to menstruate, she told me never to let a boy or man touch me or I'd get pregnant and bum in hell!"

"Your mother must have been a very happy woman," I suggested.

Her head moved the least bit, shaking slightly. She murmured, "She did her very best."

"But there wasn't much joy and probably less love in her life, was there?" I guessed, making a shot in the dark.

Again her head shook slightly and she admitted, "Her whole life was pretty bleak."

"She'd have felt guilty if she ever had felt happy," I made another shot in the dark.

That brought a startled look that turned thoughtful. Finally she admitted, "You may be right."