Chapter 9
On this night, which ended her first week as the newest instructress at Danielson House, Myra Castlebar once again had difficulty falling asleep. The night was cool, she had had an excellent dinner in the refectory, and Susan Amory and Martha Tillotson had come over to her table to exchange pleasant remarks and to congratulate her on her first week in her new post. By all odds, with Madame Helga's praise still rinsing in her ears after having chastised Melita Tarvish before the Amazonian dominatress, she should have been quite content with her achievements in this new job, which had come about so singularly after her unfortunate experience with Murray Bannister.
And yet the fact remained; she absolutely could not fall asleep, try as she would. Half a dozen times she shifted positions, from lying on her back to rolling onto first her right and then her left side, and each time she sat up with exasperation to find that the release of sleep would not claim her.
Finally she got out of bed and went over to the writing desk and seated herself, reached in the darkness for the little lacquered box in which she kept her cigarettes, took one and groped for the pack of matches beside it. Then, lighting the cigarette, she leaned back in the hard, straight-backed chair and thought of what she had done and what she had seen and how curiously it had affected her.
She puffed nervously at the cigarette, and then abruptly rose and went into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch. Perhaps a glass of cold water from the faucet would help. She stared in the mirror of the medicine cabinet, and her dark blue eyes intently studied her own reflection. There was a pallor to her face which seemed to make her glossy black hair even more lustrous. Why did she feel so strange? Why should it trouble her to have had her revenge on that nasty little brat, who had purposely tried to make a fool of her in class this afternoon? She had been the very one who had declared that she could never bring herself to strike a child; and yet, after her initial hesitation when Melita had draped herself over her lap with her panties down about her knees, she had actually begun to enjoy the characteristically sharp, crisp smacks of her hand on the girl's bare bottom ... and even more, the noisier and more dramatic strokes inflicted with the flat Wooden ruler Madame Helga had handed her.
Actually, after having applied those twenty last spanks, she had almost been disappointed that the punishment had been over, that she couldn't go on making that little hussy cry and beg for mercy. What was happening to her? The last two years, she had struggled so hard to make a good academic showing, forsaking the material world and the pleasures of the flesh for the more serious and purposeful goal of using her mind to help the young assimilate knowledge they could put to use as good citizens when they grew up. And yet in a single week, the most satisfactory thing that had happened to her in this new and strange school was having taken Melita Tarvish over her lap and made that saucy bottom of hers good and red and hot!
Myra was wearing blue cotton pajamas, with short sleeves and open throat. Again she stared in the mirror, and blushed because she saw she was looking at her bosom. Suddenly it seemed to her that she was conscious of her body in a way she had never been before. It must have been because of Melita's nakedness, realizing that she was a female with intimate flesh just such as that nasty little girl had had to expose for the spanking.
Her closeness to the mirror made her boobs seem even more lush and melon-like as the thin blue cotton fabric of the pajama tops clung lovingly to them, following each rhythmic breath with exquisite fidelity. Wonderingly, she lifted a hand and touched one of her boobs, and at once a prickling sensation surged through the sensitive nipple. A vivid blush suffused her cheeks and, with almost an impatient gesture, she opened the door of the medicine cabinet to take out the water glass.
As she reached for it, she saw a curious white plastic object lying beside it-something that certainly hadn't been there before. She had brought most of her own things from Murray Bannister's house when she had left him in such indignation, after discovering his vile and contemptible attempts to have sex with his own sweet niece. But this was absolutely something that didn't belong here-what was it, anyhow?
She reached for it, took it out and examined it. It was shaped like a male prick, and by some accident she touched the spring setting off the batteries ... for it was nothing more nor less than a hand-operated vibrator. The soft whirring sound made her eyebrows arch, and out of some inexplicable impulse, she touched the point of the phallic-like implement to the nipple of her left boob. The sensation which followed was devastating!
With a gasp, her cheeks turning redder than before, she glanced down at herself, and moved the vibrator here and there over the sensitive bud. A thousand little fingers seemed to tickle and caress the stiffening nugget of her lovebud, and a voluptuous shiver rippled through her svelte young body.
She moved the vibrator away, again staring in the mirror. Then she closed her eyes and the scene in Madame Helga's apartment came back to her. The saucy, tall, very pretty, black-haired girl undressing, her face sulky and clouded, and yet submissive. The humiliating removal of her panties and then the even more humiliating act of having to ask for her spanking. The positioning of the girl's body over her lap, and the feel of her arm circling the supple warm olive-sheened waist. And then, the most exquisite sensation of all, new and startling in its overtones-the impact of her palm against Melita's upturned, naked, resilient bottom cheeks.
Melita's movements during the spanking had been satisfying, indeed, and yet now that she thought about them, she realized they had been connected with the warmth and quivering pulsations in her own loins. Oh, why do I have to keep on thinking of all this?
And then, hardly realizing what she was doing, Myra Castlebar had unfastened the little tie-cord of her pajama bottoms and let them slip down to her knees, while with her right hand she moved the vibrator towards the thick black triangle of her cunt fleece. Groping with her forefinger, she found once again the secretive spring which set the vibrator into operation, and then she felt the throbbing tip, that simulacrum of the male penis, tingle and vibrate against the mound of her virgin core
"Ohhh ... ahhhh ... oh my God!" she ejaculated in a husky, strangled voice. She closed her eyes, she could not bear to stare at herself in the mirror. Moving her hand away, she felt her thighs tremble and shake, felt a molten heat rising along their columns, almost as if all her strength was being removed and she could no longer stand. And then, closing her eyes as tightly as she could, she moved the vibrator back against her cunt and let it do its work over the twitching lips which had already begun to pout and to moisten slightly, indicating the secret tumescence wakening and stirring within her most secret self. As she did so, the pictures of Melita's spanking, of Melita's obeisance and humility, came back into her mind as part of a wanton and lustful phantasmagoria she was powerless to disperse. Once again it seemed to her that she could see Melita's upturned, tightly set bottom ovals jerking and twitching and contracting under the Spat-Spat-Spat-Spat of the wooden ruler, flexible and stinging and welding to the jouncy curves of that beautiful young bottom. Once again she could hear the girl's cries and squeals, hear her tears and stammered pleas for mercy.
And then, when Melita had knelt down to thank her sobbingly for the punishment, she knew she had stared covertly at the girl's surprisingly hairy cleft, that nest of sweet young adolescent virginity which reminded her of her own, since both of them were black-haired.
The vibrator now found the tiny cowl of pussy flesh above the pouting, moistening lips. It touched the secret button of Myra Castlebar's emotions, that lodestone, her clitoris. With a sobbing groan, she staggered back until she could feel the cold porcelain wall against her bare behind, and then, covering her face with her left arm, she let the vibrator wander at will all over her cunt until a sudden spasm took possession of her ... until she slumped down on her knees, the vibrator falling with a clatter to the floor, as wave upon wave of shattering, annihilating lust fever washed over her and with it came the sweet feeling of oblivion bringing deep, restful and oh so vitally needed sleep.
The honey-haired Amazon leaned back in her swivel chair and smiled at the stocky brown-haired man standing before her in her office this cool September Sunday afternoon. "I think I can honestly tell you, Mr. Bannister," she said, choosing her words carefully, "that I have made considerable progress in getting my newest instructress to understand a little more of the world than when she came here. And of course as we both know, your rather startling tactics regarding Carol apparently so horrified her that she was willing to accept my offer with no investigation whatsoever-which is quite fortunate for you particularly."
"I understand that. The idea came to me when I saw what a silly little prude she was, Madame Helga," he retorted with a sheepish grin.
"I commend you for your quick thinking. And actually for your purpose, there is no better place than Danielson House for a young woman of Myra Castlebar's background, obvious sensitivity and refinement and total inexperience in sex to begin to become a woman. I must confess I myself am drawn to her, but knowing how you feel about her, I have told everyone on my staff she is not to be approached."
"But you did let her see what sort of discipline you maintain at this school, I assume?"
"Oh yes." The dominatress deftly fitted a cigarette into a long ivory holder, lit it with studied poise, and then regarded the industrialist. "Not only that, Mr. Bannister, she actually punished one of the pupils herself ... thou eh it required a little coaching and almost a veiled threat of being discharged or worse."
"Very good indeed! How did she take it?"
"When we had our staff meeting just before she started last Monday, Mr. Bannister, Myra was quite outspoken against what she called the barbaric custom of using corporal punishment for naughty pupils. But I watched her carefully while she spanked a pretty little minx who, needless to say, had been promised a little bonus if she showed herself to be a good actress. And towards the end of it, I may safely say that Myra Castlebar was becoming sexually excited bv the sight of that charming bare seat as it reddened under her pretty hand and then the ruler which I handed her."
"Capital!"
"Besides that," the dominatress continued, "I saw to it that a vibrator dildo was placed in the medicine cabinet of her bathroom. My belief was that when she went back to her apartment, she would be emotionally troubled by what she had been made to do against all her prior beliefs and her prudish disinclination towards any sexual manifestation whatsoever. I'm willing to wager she used that little instrument to relieve the, shall we say, physical tensions which spanking Melita must have caused her."
"But this is better than I had hoped for, Madame Helga!" he laughed.
"As I understand it, your charming niece is going to begin the term with us tomorrow."
"Yes, that's quite right. She's outside now."
"Do have her come in. Do you wish to use her in the little scheme we have of turning Myra into your sweetheart?"
"Eventually, that would be wonderful. But it needn't necessarily be Carol. What I thought was, if she could be led more and more to see some of these disciplinary scenes and then finally a little lovemaking, she would be at the point where even against her better judgment she might be physically stimulated and maybe even out of curiosity to have a little fun with one of the girls herself. Then of course this could be discovered, you would call her into your office and scold her for her lewdness and wickedness, and see to it she was condemned to punishment. When that occurs, I myself should like to administer it."
"I follow you more clearly than you think, Mr. Bannister," Helga Danielson laughed softly. "That is a classical form of entrapment, and I believe it has occurred many times not only in fiction but in real life in the private English boarding schools where very diffident and haughty young ladies whose conduct was so exemplary they were never punished were led into sinfulness just so that their virginal bottoms could be exposed for a sound spanking with sex to follow."
"Precisely. You're an amazing woman, Madame Helga. You know, if I weren't so crazy about Myra, I'd be extremely interested in you."
"That's flattering, Mr. Bannister, and I will admit I am very grateful for your financial support of my school. But you are not exactly my type. First of all, I am not masochist enough to want to be your mistress, because I like to direct and dominate, not obey and serve. No, I'm quite content with the school as it is. But I do owe you this favor for your support, and this is why it amuses me to help you with your defiant virgin spinster, if we may call her that."
"As I said, you're an amazing woman. Now I'll send Carol in."
"Would I be indiscreet if I asked whether you had accomplished your purpose once Myra left your house?" the directress asked with a wicked glint in her eyes.
"You may assume that," Murray Bannister looked self-conscious and flushed hotly as he coughed and then cleared his throat. Then, going to the door, he opened it and beckoned to his blonde niece, who came forward at once and smilingly went towards the directress.
"What a charming, lovely girl! Carol, my dear, you will be in Martha Tillotson's class. I'll have Mrs. Glover show you to your room directly, and dinner will be served in the refectory at six tonight." So saying, Madame Helga pressed a buzzer and the matron soon entered, then Carol, after kissing her uncle goodbye, went off with the portly woman.
The honey-haired Amazon, wearing her usual clinging black satin gown and on this occasion spike-heeled, knee-length, black leather boots, rose from her desk and came towards the industrialist. "I take it that since you are here, you would like to see something diverting," she said whimsically.
"Nothing would please me more, Madame Helga," the hoarseness of his voice betrayed his rising excitement.
"Well, come along then. I'll let you watch the initiation of one of our oldest girls, all of twenty, with an eighteen-year-old boy whose sophisticated and very wealthy aunt intends to make him her lover by the time he is graduated from my school."
"That will be interesting. But you wouldn't happen to have a spanking I could watch?" Murray Bannister hopefully and eagerly asked.
"Let me see ... yes, I do believe I could offer you that amusement also after the testing room. Susan Amory, you know, our tall auburn-haired instructress who has the girls of seventeen and eighteen, has had in her black books for a week or two now a certain young lady who thinks herself immune from punishment, but who was caught just the other night stealing into the bedroom of a fifteen-year-old girl. That latter naughty young lady has already been soundly spanked by Jennifer Addams, but Prudence-you will agree it is a most appropriate name-still thinks she got away with her little nocturnal rendezvous. She was forgetting my closed circuit television system."
"Oh yes! How I envy you that, Madame Helga!"
Murray Bannister chuckled with an admiring shake of his head.
"With the system, I can look in on Myra or any one of my other teachers and of course all of the pupils," the dominatress continued. "By the way, you might tell me whether you would like to have Carol find herself a boy or a girlfriend at the school."
"A girlfriend I shouldn't mind. But I'd just as soon she remains faithful to me, if you understand what I mean," he chuckled.
"I do, perfectly. Come along then." the honey-haired Amazon smiled and winked at him, "in that case I'll make Carol my own special charge."
"She couldn't get better training from anyone else, I know that. And I think you could teach her a good deal, Madame Helga," the industrialist enthusiastically agreed.
The two went down towards the testing room and Dr. Penelope Fielding's office, and the directress unlocked the door of a room directly to the right of the famous testing room. Inside was a long wide couch up against the wall connecting with the testing room. She moved to it, seated herself and reached towards the wall and touched an ingeniously camouflaged button. At once a panel swung back upon itself, and the delighted industrialist gasped with pleasure as he saw a wide, rectangular, one-way glass section revealed.
"It's like the Sphinx in Paris or the Lust Garten in Hamburg," he exclaimed.
"Just so," Madame Helga nodded. "Well, I shall leave you now, and when you have finished, come back to my office and meanwhile I will inform Susan that she is to proceed with Prudence just as soon as I learn that you are ready to watch that diverting little episode."
Murray Bannister seated himself on the low wide couch and found he had an excellent view through the one-way glass panel directly into the testing room. Then he noticed just below the panel there was a brass switch. Out of curiosity, he touched it, and discovered he had turned on the intercom audio which enabled those in ,this voyeurs' room to hear as well as see what took place in the chamber where the pupils of Madame Helga's boarding school were initiated into the tender mysteries of fucking.
Once more, Homer Grange was in charge of the initiation, and Murray Bannister's eyes widened with interest as he watched the instructor usher in a superbly beautiful chestnut-haired young woman and a tall, bespectacled youth with wavy brown hair and the face of an intellectual, his blue eyes myopic behind the glasses and his entire attitude one of extreme shyness.
"Now then, Brandon," Homer Grange affably encouraged the youth, "there's nothing to be afraid of. After all, Maxine here has been looking forward to her first lover, haven't you, my dear?"
The chestnut-haired beauty thus addressed as Maxine nodded, gave the youth a quick look and then blushed as she lowered her eyes. She was about five feet six inches in height, with an extremely slim waist set into bold relief-thanks to the clinging black skirt and the white blouse-the breathtaking amplitude of a spaciously rounded bottom whose plump, high-set cheeks were widely and deeply furrowed, as might be seen when she moved about with the skirt clinging suggestively to her posterior contours. Her bosom, by comparison, was small, yet in no way meager: the two globes were widely spaced and high-perched, gently rounded. Her face was heart-shaped, her hair was styled in a helmet coiffure to frame its loveliness and arch demureness, and her mouth was ripe and generously full, her nose straight with delicately thin, flaring wings. Her hazel eyes were closely set together, her eyebrows thick and unplucked as well as unpenciled.
"Now then, Brandon," Homer Grange went on, "take off all your clothes and then go over to that urn, put your hands in it and rub the oil all over yourself. Everywhere, young man."
"In ... in front of herT' the youth incredulously gasped, his face turning brick red.
"Of course in front of her. When you finish, she'll undress in turn. You don't imagine the two of you are going to make love with your clothes on, do you, Brandon? Whatever would your Aunt Delcy say to that?" the male instructor teased.
Since Brandon Delroy's aunt had already told him before entering him in this unique school that she wanted him to forget his studiousness and love for his own company and his books and hobbies of chess and poetry, Brandon Delroy was not entirely in the dark as to his aunt's incestuous intentions. She, a stunningly handsome woman of forty-one, her black hair cut in a mannish do, with a spectacular figure that boasted youthfully jutting pear-shaped boobs and an oval-cheeked bottom whose undulations caused many a man to experience a hard-on whenever she walked a public street in New York, had never married, but she had had many lovers. When Brandon's parents had died from the flu two years ago, she had taken charge of the introspective youth, and the idea of turning him into a capable male stud had piqued her sensual interests. As soon as she had discovered he had absolute interest in his own sex-which she had feared at the outset-she had hastily enrolled him at Danielson House and paid Madame Helga a handsome bonus to make certain that by the time he was "graduated," he would be able to satisfy the burning urges of her tight warm cunt.
As for Maxine Torrance, she had retained her virginity until just three days ago, when Dr. Penelope Fielding had removed the hymen with her scalpel. Her mother and father had often punished her for dating boys for which they had no use and for having caught her on occasion necking and petting with them. Then her father had divorced her mother in order to marry his secretary. The mother remarried three years ago, and Maxine's stepfather, who was a swinger, had secret designs on his own stepdaughter. When Maxine's mother had divorced him just six months ago, he had happily for himself discovered she had been seeing a lover in secret assignations. He had thus persuaded her to relinquish custody of luscious Maxine in return for not contesting the divorce. And then, as soon as it was practicable, he had enrolled his stepdaughter under the auspices of the honey-haired Amazon with the expressed intention of acquainting her with passion so in due time he might make her his bed bitch and very possibly even his replacement wife.
Brandon turned his back on the demure beauty and self-consciously began to undress, sometimes nervously glancing back over his shoulder to make certain she wasn't looking, while Homer Grange impatiently urged him on. When at last he was naked and had begun to rub the oil into his wiry young body, which was hairless, Homer Grange observed that nature had already had its proper effect: the youth's nudity and the presence of the desirable chestnut-haired Maxine had conspired to give him a formidable erection.
"There now, you see, Brandon?" Homer Grange joked, "it's going to be nicer than you think. Besides, you're already showing yourself to be quite the man, and I'm sure Maxine will have no reason to complain of you. Now then, my dear, if you'll just undress and if you wish, I can rub the oil into you."
"Oh no, Mr. Grange," Maxine hastily gasped, backing up a little and regarding him with widened eyes, "I ... I can do that myself. Please ... do you ... do you have to be here and watch us?"
"I'm afraid I do, my dear. Madame Helga's orders, you see. But don't worry, just think of me as a sort of clinical advisor."
Maxine bit her under lip and then began to unbutton her blouse. The naked youth sat down on the edge of the couch and put both hands over his throbbing prick, his eyes huge behind his glasses as he saw Maxine's delicious figure begin to appear unadorned. Her skirt had followed, then her bra, and now she was stooping so her gently rounded tits dangled temptingly like fruits from the vine of passion, as she pulled down the panties and stepped out of them.
"That's very good, my dear, leave the stockings and shoes on. Now if you'll oil yourself, I think we're all ready," Homer Grange genially suggested.
Murray Bannister felt his prick throbbing with excitement. He lit a cigar, and pretended it was Myra Castlebar in the testing room, stripping naked before him and perhaps with Madame Helga standing there to supervise, riding crop or martinet or a good flexible birch rod in hand. Lewd visions leaped into his brain now as he foresaw Myra in his house as his mistress and slavegirl, with his cute niece aiding him to complete Myra's subjugation. It would be a delicious three-way arrangement, a virtual harem of two mouthwatering pieces of pussy. And what amused him most was that young Carol was already an adept bed bitch, while mature Myra would be as self-conscious and embarrassed as the shyest virgin of Carol's own age despite the ten year difference.
When he saw Maxine naked except for the black silk hose and high-heeled pumps, he yanked down his zipper to free his aching, swollen prick and gently cuddled it with his palm. He envied that young bastard in there, and he would have given a good deal to have replaced Brandon Delroy at this very moment. Maxine had a devastating figure, and even more temptingly possessed a milky skin whose only blemish was in the form of an adorable oval-shaped brown birthmark just below her right hip along the outer edge. Her navel was shallow and wide, and the extremely thick fleece of dark brown hair which covered her cunthole began at the lower abdomen and gussetted her between the legs towards the anal cleft. There were also curly sprigs of private hair in her soft armpits.
He watched her greedily as she hastily rubbed the oil over her tits and bottom and upper thighs and belly, and he also saw Homer Grange's prick straining at its moorings while the instructor prepared to bring the two young people together in this "scientific" initiation of boy fucks girl, Danielson House style.
"Ah right, Maxine dear, now go over to the couch and sit down beside Brandon. Both of you, don't be in any hurry about this. You'll find that instinct is a good guide in such matters. Brandon, put your arm around her and kiss her, tell her how lovely she is-for she certainly is very, very lovely-and make her feel how grateful you are. Then we'll go on from there," Homer explained.
The naked girl moved docilely to the couch and sat beside the nervous, naked youth, who gasped and blushed. Then he very gingerly put his arm around her bare dimpled shoulders, and attempted a hesitant and almost apologetic kiss on her cheek.
"You don't have to be quite so tender, Brandon boy," Homer Grange sarcastically drawled.
Brandon, however, kept his other hand feverishly tight over his prick as if to hide it for fear of offending the naked virgin beside him. Homer Grange soon had a word about that, and with a gasp the youth finally grasped Maxine by her upper arms and kissed her frantically on the mouth. In turn, the young woman circled his neck with her arms and returned his kiss. His own shyness and the fact that he was not rough or prepossessing had done much to allay her instinctive virginal defenses. Moreover, if truth be told, Maxine was not entirely unaware of her stepfather's more than casual interest in her, and had entertained some secret girlish dreams about being fucked by him when she was alone in her bed at night. Her forefinger had acted as proxy for his mature prick. And so it was on this Sunday afternoon that she was really eager to be fucked to learn what it would be like and to conjecture what the difference would be when her handsome stepfather finally got her into bed.
A few moments later, again at Homer Grange's order, Maxine stretched herself out on the couch and the youth crouched beside her, his hands caressing her tits as his mouth merged with hers. By now, his own inhibitions had been dispersed, and Homer Grange had to caution him not to fling himself down on Maxine and rape her without proper preparation.
Murray Bannister, his breath quick and erratic, squeezing his prickhead savagely between thumb and forefinger to hold back the bubbling jet threatening to burst at any moment, followed this entire scene with absorbed delight. He swore under his breath as he saw the youth, again obedient to the instructor's suggestions, kneel between Maxine's thighs, his trembling hands gently pressing them apart so he could put his mouth to her cunt and kiss and lick and suck it tenderly. Soon the naked young woman began to groan and squirm, her head tilting back, then turning from side to side, her finger scrabbling at the couch as her body shuddered with this awakening of lust.
"All right, I think she's ready by now. Go into her gently, remember it's still tight, she's a virgin, boy," Homer Grange's voice was hoarse with his own lust now.
With a cry of joy, Brandon Delroy obeyed. He fumbled at the dainty aperture, hidden by the thick pussy curls, but now surprisingly and deliciously Maxine herself came to his aid by putting her soft fingers to her pussylips and drawing them apart to grant him access. As he sank into her, she uttered a squeal of delight, grabbed him by the earlobes, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him passionately while she arched up to receive the savage impetus of his first thrust as an edified young male.
Half an hour later, as Murray Bannister was sitting back on the couch with his eyes closed and reliving the scene he had just witnessed and heard, there was a gentle knock, at the door. He straightened, rose to his feet, hastily tugged up his zipper, and called, "Come in."
Madame Helga appeared, accompanied by a blushing and very provocative slim light brown-haired girl. "Mr. Bannister, this is Jane Starr. She's nineteen and one of Miss Bunson's best girls. As it happens, she was to be initiated today by one of Mr. Grange's boys, but unfortunately he came down with a very bad cold. I wonder if you would be kind enough to act as replacement? I'm sure that with your experience you can make Jane very happy you are replacing him."
"My God ... of course ... I never thought ... but she's beautiful!" Murray Bannister hoarsely gasped, his eyes sweeping the slim beauty who looked down at the floor and twisted her fingers together nervously against her waist.
"Then I'll leave the two of you together. Of course, you'll miss Susan Amory's punishing Prudence, but I'm sure you can see something like that some other time."
"Of course, of course, Madame Helga. Thanks ... I'm very grateful to you."
Madame Helga smiled and closed the door. Murray Bannister approached the quivering girl. She was about five feet five and a half inches in height, with supple waist, long sleek legs, and her tits were closely spaced, young melons, startlingly contrasting with the almost boyish compactness of her oval-cheeked behind.
"I'll be very nice to you, Jane. You're a darling, you're really lovely," he said thickly as he came towards her. Taking her hands, he kissed her gently on the mouth. Jane moaned and closed her eyes as she pressed herself against him. Releasing her hands, he put his own on her bottom, and gently squeezed it, his prick aching with delight to feel the saucy springiness of those tightening and tightly spaced bottom ovals.
To his delight, Jane hugged him and then gave him her mouth. What was more, a moment later he groaned with pleasure as she introduced her pert pink tongue between his lips.
"I'm so glad it's you who is going to fuck me, Mr. Bannister," she confided in a vibrant whisper as that first French kiss ended. "Ted is nice and all that, but I really want a grownup man to show me how it's done. I'm going to get married as soon as I graduate this next February, and I know my hubby will want me to be as good as he is. He's had lots of girls, and I was sort of scared I couldn't come up to his expectations. Will you show me everything, Mr. Bannister?"
"I'll try, but that's a big order, darling. Now let's see what you look like without your clothes, shall we?" Murray Bannister could hardly conceal his excitement over this unexpected good fortune. He began to unbutton Jane's blouse, while she unfastened the skirt and let it fall to her slim ankles. Almost reverently, he unhooked the bandeau of the bra and then his hands began to cup and squeeze gently the panting globes of her superb breasts. Her skin was a delicious carnation tint, that blend of pink and white which is so irresistible to the mature voluptuary and which, if he is somewhat sadistically inclined, marks exquisitely under the spanking hand or hairbrush or switch.
Soon Murray Bannister's hands were skinning Jane's panties down, then pulling her tightly up against him so she could feel the savage pulsations of his aching prick. "Put your hands down there and take it out for me, darling," he huskily muttered into her ear, then rubbed the tip of his tongue into it.
Jane squealed and squirmed, and her slim hand found his zipper, tugged it down, and drew out his bulging cock. "Oh my goodness!" she gasped, coloring hotly. "It's so awfully big ... will it really go into little me?"
"Let's find out, darling."
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over to the couch and laid her down on it. Jane put an arm over her eyes and shiveringly waited while he stripped naked. Then, crouching between her thighs, he emulated Brandon with Maxine. But in a far more expert way, since his hands slid under Jane's saucy compact bottom cheeks and, squeezing them lasciviously, he began to eat the milky-skinned virgin.
It wasn't long before she was groaning and sobbing in her joy, expressing her pleasure at this unexpected act. "Ohh, Oh, Mr. Bannister, darling, ohh, oohhh, I didn't ever think a man would ever do anything like that ... oh, but it's so nice ... oh, please don't stop! You're driving me crazy ... oh, darling Mr. Bannister, oh please, whenever you want to fuck me, I'm ready, I'm so ready, please, lover!"
It was almost easy to forget his maturity and do what perhaps a youth like Brandon would have done, climb on her and give it to her hard. But Murray Bannister forced himself to use the utmost self-control, appreciating the delicious conquest of so tempting a virgin. So, kneeling between her legs, his hands gently squeezing her tits, he teasingly probed his cockhead against the moistening and twitching lips of her virgin cunt until at last, out of impatient desire, Jane arched to him and he could feel his cockhead slipping between the quaking lips of her love-core.
As he sank down into her, she groaned and flung her arms around him. Then he began to fuck her with long deliberate thrusts, pausing from time to time to feel the indescribably thrilling contractions of her womb walls which gripped his rampaging prick and threatened to destroy his already waning self-control.
But in reality-or at least in his mind's eye and fantasy-it was Myra Castlebar whom he was fucking even as he brought lovely naked young Jane to climax after climax, inserting his right forefinger just inside the lips of her dainty rosebud of a virgin ass-hole and wresting shrill wordless cries of frantic pleasure from the delighted young convert to this her initial adoration of stiff male cock.