Chapter 7
On this Sunday before Myra Castlebar's first Monday-morning class at Danielson House, Martha Tillotson, instructress for the sixteen-year-old girls, was entertaining towheaded Carl Edwards, the stocky, dark brown-haired, thirty-four-year-old instructor of boys between the ages of twelve and fourteen at this liberal and unique institution.
Martha was paying off an obligation, since she had allowed Carl Edwards to enjoy the talented lips, tongue and pussy of one of her own special favorites, Elsie Courtney. About two weeks ago, the boys' instructor had sat down at her table in the refectory and jokingly remarked that there were times when a teacher grew tired of his task and envied his colleagues who had far more attractive and impressionable pupils. When Martha smilingly asked him what he meant by that, he had boldly countered, "I'd like to take over your class for just about an hour and have a little fun with Elsie Courtney." To this Martha had smiled and responded, "I don't see why that can't be arranged, Mr. Edwards. Only it's tit for tat, if you'll pardon the vulgar expression in the light of present-day meanings."
Since Martha Tillotson herself in some ways resembled charming Christine Bernard-except that she was ten years older and an inch and a half taller-it was understandable that Carl Edwards had enjoyed sitting next to her and staring rather greedily at her superb, widely spaced, high-perched tits. They were like young cantaloupes, and in Carl Edwards' estimation, they needed absolutely no bra to support their ardent thrust against the bodice of a summery blue, cotton frock.
like Christine, Martha wore glasses, black horn-rimmed affairs which suggested her own studious nature. However, her studies went quite beyond the classroom curriculum; Martha Tillotson had married at the age of seventeen in order to escape her strict small-town parents, and a year later discovered that her husband was a pussy hound and a gambler, which did not augur well for her economic future. She left him not quite a year later when, following the advice of a gossipy neighbor, she found him in a motel room with a henna-haired waitress who was busy giving him an expert blow job. Since this was something which Martha herself had not been able to bring herself to do even in the first honeymoon raptures with her handsome husband, she was shocked and then indignant.
Her husband filed suit for divorce and obtained it without any contest, but Martha left the small Ohio town where she was born because she did not want to have her parents say "I told you so" or face the mocking and malicious taunts of her neighbors. Going to New York, she found a job in a modeling agency and three months later became the mistress of one of New York's best commercial photographers. This liaison lasted two years, completely did away with Martha's sexual inhibitions so she found herself not only willing but also eager to French a man she cared for. Her lover, who had decided to get married to an heiress, was grateful enough to Martha for her fidelity and enthusiastic cooperation in bed to find her a job as a companion to a retired school principal who was bedridden. From this job, Martha received the inspiration to go to night school and get her credits so she could get a teaching certificate, which she did when she was twenty-five. At that time, her employer had died and she began in a rural school not far from Danielson House. Helga Danielson had met her some eighteen months ago, visited one of her classes, and made her an offer that Martha Tillotson could not afford to turn down.
At that point in her life, the bespectacled, dark brown-haired instructress much preferred the male, but thanks to Madame Helga, she was edified in the ways in which one female could console another. Thus she became an enthusiastic switch-hitter, and she had already sampled Elsie's ardent young charms before lending her pupil to the initiatory passions of Carl Edwards. Elsie herself had been longing to be fucked, and of course when a mature male instructor personally supervised this undertaking, she experienced exquisite pleasure. That same sort of pleasure was now being afforded her delectable teacher in Carl Edwards' apartment.
Martha had come to him in a green satin hostess gown and high heeled pumps, her tawny-sheened body quivering with impatience. Elsie had eagerly and very graphically related to her instructress the details of her first fucking, and these details had made Martha certain Carl Edwards would prove a highly satisfactory lover.
After he had given her a glass of sherry and they had both smoked a cigarette, while seated side by side very primly on the huge Chesterfield at the back of the living room wall, Carl Edwards had put down his glass, crushed out his cigarette, taken Martha by the shoulders and kissed her very gently on the neck. Her long dark brown hair was coiffed in a thick pageboy, giving her a very youthful and extremely feminine look. Without removing her spectacles, for he, just like Homer Grange with Christine, found the contrast of in-tellectualism and passion irresistible, he put his left hand to the back of her neck and began to caress it while his right hand rummaged for the silver zipper at the top of the hostess gown and slowly pulled it down. As the zipper descended, the folds of the gown parted and his eyes widened with delight to see the upper curves of her magnificent boobs come totally bare.
His hands moved down to her waist and he edged forward toward her, and his lips began to brush against the valley between those splendid love-globes. Martha shivered voluptuously, closing her eyes, and began to stroke the back of his head with a slim, ringless hand. Her other hand moved with purpose down to the fly of his dacron slacks, jerked it down almost impatiently and disappeared to open his shorts and draw forth the bulging structure of his cock. This she squeezed proudly in her soft palm, while his kisses grew more passionate than ever. Another yank of her zipper exposed the stunning exuberance of her cantaloupe-like tits, and Carl Edwards immediately paid homage to each rosy, well-developed nipple, sucking it, nibbling it with the rims of his teeth, and then rubbing it with the tip of his tongue.
Elsie had definitely not exaggerated about his amatory abilities, Martha Tillotson happily thought as she let him do as he would with her. The zipper moved down to the waist, and now his hands gently drew the parted hostess gown off her body, leaving her thrillingly half naked. His hands caressed the smooth, deeply hollowed estuary of her bare back, while he concentrated on each of her nipples in turn, sucking and kissing and tonguing it until he could feel it stiffen and harden and, when he at last released those palpitating lovebuds, see them darken with the erogenous blood drawn to their sensitive cores.
Carl Edwards was independently wealthy, his widower father having been an archeologist who was paid a great deal of money by several famous museums for his excavational finds. He had majored in education during his college days, visited Berlin by way of postgraduate celebration and there fallen deeply in love with a honey-haired German beauty who had turned out to be a sadistic nymph. The marriage had wound up by Carl's giving her a taste of her own medicine with her leather riding crop when he came home unexpectedly from a trip to Paris and found her training a naked bellboy with whip and boot and spur. Disillusioned, he had spent a year or two pursuing pussy throughout the European capitals, and then gone back to the United States to work as a private tutor simply to keep himself occupied.
But his natural passion for women could not take a continent life too long, and eventually he met Madame Helga and was engaged by her as an instructor for the youngest boys in her unique institution. However, what he had learned about women during his experimental period stood him in very good stead with luscious Martha, as it had indeed with the auburn-haired instructress Susan Amory and the silver-blonde Dorothea Bunson.
This was actually the first time Martha had enjoyed his fucking talents, and she resolved finally to make the most of them this Sunday evening, but she would also let Carl Edwards know that a steady liaison between them would be equally welcome.
Now he rose in order to remove his slacks and sports shirt, but Martha, with a soft sensual giggle, reached forward, gripped him by the buttocks, bobbed her lovely head and took his prick head into her soft mouth, then began artfully and expertly to suck at it and to flick the lips of the meatus with her pert pink tongue.
Groaning with pleasure, Carl Edwards plunged his fingers into her thick pageboy, drawing it up tightly and towards him so as to keep her head bowed in this exquisite pose of feminine submission to the male. Thus it was also for him a visual treat as well as one of hedonistic sensation. Also, it was a challenge to withhold the bubbling spunk with which his balls were loaded and torture himself into seeing just how long he could withstand Martha's oral blandishments.
"You darling!" he hoarsely ejaculated, "shouldn't we go to the bedroom now, wouldn't it be more comfortable for you?"
But Martha raising her limpid hazel eyes towards him, made a slight shake of her head while at the same time continuing to suck at his cockhead to indicate to him that she was quite happy as she was. In gentlemanly fashion, wanting their first union to be a total success so as to encourage her to come back for seconds, Carl Edwards allowed her to give him plenty of head. His teeth were chattering from the onus of holding back his jism as the suctioning of her red lips continued to ply him with agonizing ecstasy.
For a moment she stopped and looked up at him, smiling provocatively, her eyes shining with desire. In some ways, he reminded her of her husband, but there was the enlightened difference that here at Danielson House instructors and instructresses-just as pupils with pupils-came together out of sheer pleasure and without emotional involvement. That was Madame Helga's cardinal rule, that fucking was to be enjoyed much as dining in a fine restaurant, and the more one knew about the subject and could appreciate the nuances, the more one's sexual hunger would be fully and savoringly satisfied. In that way, there could be no possible repressions, neuroses or frustrations. To be sure, she profited financially from these unique arrangements between the conspiring kinfolk of her pupils, but she prided herself on believing that coercion was never used and repugnance was always noted and eliminated through gentle and persuasive educational means. There was no reason why education should not take place in bed just as it did in the classroom, to her way of thinking.
"Elsie was right," Martha Tillotson murmured huskily, with a glint of amusement in her lovely eyes. "You really are quite a man and very gentle and thoughtful for all your size, Carl dear. I'm glad I lent her to you, because I wanted to thank you for treating her so nicely."
"Of course," he mused, "such a thing would be possible only at this remarkable school of Madame Helga's. If Elsie had had to have her hymen pierced by what you are now so flatteringly attending, my dear Martha, I fear her experiences might not have been quite so pleasing. But of course Dr. Fielding performed the necessary operation well before Elsie's transfiguration into happy womanhood."
"Quite so. Yes, I'm very glad Madame Helga found me ... as I suppose you must be too, my dear fellow," Martha laughed softly. "And now, let's just enjoy each other because I expect you'll be able to take care of me once I've taken care of you. I want to see just how long you can hold out. It will give me a better idea of your capabilities than even little Elsie's testimony."
So saying, she again bowed her head and went back to the sucking and licking of his cockhead. Once again Carl Edwards groaned and stiffened his muscles to hold back all his passionate yearnings to give vent to the torrent of spunk which was threatening at any instant to burst its bounds and gush into Martha's soft nectared warm mouth. Her fingers now began to knead his buttocks, and this massaging had a further erotic effect on the virile instructor. His prick throbbed and vibrated and Martha could feel it communicated to her lips and tongue-for now her tongue began very nimbly and quickly to stab at the tip of his prick. His organ stood out boldly from the opened fly of his slacks, the shaft solid and thick with dark veins knotting all along the tight thin skin as evidence of his Tantalus. He could feel his balls contract and strain in the furious will to spurt, and he clenched his fists and closed his eyes and ground his teeth together to remain steadfast and self-mastered against all her wiles.
Now, opening her mouth still more, she absorbed even more of his prick, and then began noisily to slush it with her tongue while she sucked at it at the same time. Her fingers continued an even more rapid massaging of his buttocks, until Carl
Edwards felt his eyeballs ache as well as his testicles in the savage goading of all his erotic senses under this magnificent Frenching which the dark brown-haired, bespectacled instructress was inflicting on him.
Suddenly her sharp little white teeth closed for a tiny instant against his shaft, and that undid him completely. With a roar of ecstasy, he felt himself explode, and Martha gagged, then hastily managed to swallow quickly and adjust herself to the somewhat unexpected ejaculation. He felt himself drained dry as her fingers relaxed now into a gentle squeezing of his behind, while she almost thirstily drank every drop of his abundant spending.
When she straightened, her hands caressing her stiff-nippled breasts, he gasped, "That was the best I ever had in ah my life, you wonderful darling! Now I've got to do you and give you just as much pleasure. Stretch out on the couch and let me pull that damn thing off you. I want to see you naked, Martha girl, all naked!"
With an acquiescent little laugh, Martha Tillotson reclined on the couch, while he bent to her and yanked off the loosened hostess gown. His eyes burned to see the thick, dark brown triangle of pussy hair at the apex of her beautifully rounded and not too short thighs. Her belly was smooth, widely and also deeply dimpled by the exquisite navel, a jewel in the tawny-sheened flesh. He knelt down and kissed there first, letting his tongue rasp along it until Martha squealed with delight and twisted her fingers in his hair. Then his tongue moved down towards the thick mossy fleece of her cunt, avoiding to the last moment contact with the fleshy pink lips of her quim until she began to arch and squirm herself in a wanton begging for that thrilling lingual friction against the most sensitive and secretive part of her being.
When at last his tongue brushed against the lips of her palpitating vulva, Martha Tillotson could wait no longer. "Oh please, get into me right away, I want to feel you inside of me, oh please, darling!" she panted. "Is it hard again yet? If it isn't, I'll suck it for you until it is ... oh please do me, give it to me!"
Happily, Carl Edwards' vitality had renewed itself swiftly at the sight of Martha Tillotson's mouthwatering nakedness and the wanton way in which she offered herself to him. It had not yet reached full erection, but as he crouched between her thighs and thrust the tip of his spear against the pouting lips of her cunthole, he felt himself stiffening already. Thrusting gently, he entered just past the lips and halted himself, already feeling the contractions of her love canal as a sign that she was more than ready to be fucked.
"Oh that's good, oh darling, you really are wonderful, just as Elsie says!" Martha raptly gasped. She had stretched her arms behind her head and her face uptilted to the ceiling, her breasts rising and falling in an erratic rhythm, while her buttocks squirmed and wriggled on the couch as the frantic need to be thoroughly fucked and reamed seethed within her.
Gradually, as he felt his manhood assert itself to exemplary vigor as before, Carl Edwards thrust home slowly until they were hairs to hairs. Supporting himself on his fists and knees, withholding himself from mounting her in unison as yet, he stared down at her, observing the contorted beauty of her lovely, flushed face, the heaving turbulence of her boobs, and the scrabbling of her soft fingers against the edge of the couch.
Then he drew himself up almost to the brink, and Martha groaned in the sweet torment of it. "Oh please, oh hurry, fuck me, oh my God, fuck me, Carl lover!"
He tantalized for now by holding himself back, letting her twist and arch, trying desperately to draw him back inside of her. Then he made several short little jabs inside, only to draw out almost to the edge again, while she whimpered and gasped as her passions mounted ferociously. Finally she reached her arms to him, with almost tears in her eyes begging him, "Oh please, oh darling, that's enough torture, fuck me good now, fuck me until I faint!"
With an exultant cry, Carl Edwards sank down upon her, and her legs clutched nimbly over his behind as her fingernails dug into his shoulders. Their mouths crushed together, and their tongues rapiered and parried, emulating the now rapid stroking of his prick inside her moist tight quaking cunt.
Susan Amory and Dorothea Bunson were also occupied this pleasant September Sunday evening, while Myra Castlebar contented herself with reading a book on education which she had brought along after having left the employ of Murray Bannister. Willowy, auburn-haired Susan, five feet seven and one half inches tall and endowed with a svelte and really tempting figure which boasted high-set, saucily rounded bottom cheeks and long, shapely thighs, was treating herself to an exuberant fucking by one of the seventeen-year-old pupils from Homer Grange's classes. It was Wally Corcoran, a tall, pleasant-faced blonde youth who had been initiated into manhood a year ago by Homer Grange, who had supervised Wally's first fucking with a pretty sixteen-year-old redhead (since departed from the school to return to her elderly roue of an uncle who had intended to make her his mistress just as soon as she could be taught how to enjoy pleasing a man).
Wally was in his shorts while Susan wore only a peach-colored slip and sandals as she lolled at her ease on a chaise lounge. Her hands clasped at the back of her neck in a classical attitude which arched out the wonderfully appetizing round globes of small but perfectly formed breasts. Susan eyed her young lover with a kind of taunting expectation.
"I've heard that you're quite some shakes as a lover, Wally, so let's see how you take care of a grownup woman tonight," she had told him at the outset. She had made him undress down to just his shorts, and comfortably stationed herself on the chaise lounge, and then nodded to him to get started.
Wally was not exactly a callow, masturbating virgin male any longer, his experience was not only with the cute redhead but also two other girls still enrolled in Danielson House having amply edified him on how to provide pleasure to an ardent pussy. He sensed that Susan was testing him and he knew also, thanks to the particular educational methods used by Madame Helga, that his performance this evening would be reported in detail back to her as well as to Homer Grange, who was his immediate disciplinarian and mentor.
First he drew off her pumps, and reverently began to kiss the arches of her shapely feet and then the toes, flicking his tongue at these dainty digits. Susan purred with pleasure and beamed at the conscientious youth. "That's very nice, dear," she encouraged him.
To reward him, she lifted one knee so the slip fell away, and when Wally looked up for an instant, he was enraptured to see the plump, hairy mound of Susan Amory's waiting cunt, the promised land of the treasure trove which was to be his ultimate boon for gratifying the mature instructress.
His hands began to stroke and caress Susan's pale white-sheened calves, slim and sinuous, and he observed, young though he was, that the pale white skin was garnished with exquisite rosy flecks, the true sign of a genuine redhead. He observed also what he had noted before with the redhead and the two other girls, that a woman's cunt-hair is invariably darker than the hair on her head. It was very true; Susan's auburn tresses, styled in a very fashionable upsweep, were burnished and lighter than the dark, brooding red of her cunt fleece.
His left hand was on her up-arched right knee, and his right hand glided under the slip along her smooth, long, lovely thigh. Susan playfully clenched her legs together to deny him pussy, and noticed with a soft little giggle of sensual excitement the disappointed look which at once crossed Wally's handsome face.
"You're doing fine, darling, just don't rush things. My goodness, I never thought a boy your age could be so gentle and attentive," she praised him. "Just think, if you hadn't come to this school you'd probably be wrestling with some poor girl in the back of a car trying to get your hand into her panties and afraid every minute the cops would break in on your unimaginative way of making out. Don't you agree it's much nicer to be taught how to make love so that both of you could enjoy things?"
"Oh yes, Miss Amory," Wally stammered, his voice choking in his rising sexual excitement. This was, after all, the first time he was about to fuck a mature female, and he also observed that Susan had a sharp wit and keen mind which his three younger mistresses could definitely not boast of. Thus he sensed he was far more on trial than he had ever been before.
Madame Helga, moreover, had a very simple rule that went hand in hand with her original maxim that the young should be taught how to enjoy sex without fear or shame or guilt. It was, simply, if either a boy or girl, once having been discovered to have definite sexual impulses, was either too hasty in the matter or unimaginative, he or she would be denied further sexual pleasure with attractive members of the opposite sex until such time as progress in outlook and spirit could be reported. And since Wally had already developed a deep appreciation for pussy, he had no desire to have Susan Amory report back to Madame Helga and Homer Grange that he was henceforth to be fed saltpeter in his food and would have to content himself with his right hand at night in lieu of just such a tempting piece of cunt as was now posed before him.
Therefore he conquered his disappointment and manfully went back to doing his best to please the fastidious and critical Susan. His fingers caressed her toes, his mouth returned to her feet and then to her ankles and calves, till she sighed and murmured with pleasure. Gradually, she relaxed the tension of her thighs, once again arching up her knees so the slip fell rather boldly away, this time to expose her delicious cunt. But this time Wally was not tempted to a rash conquest. He pursued his methodical path of kissing and stroking, by now having reached her knees, until, shifting forward on his own, he was up beside her and could very easily bend his head and attack the sleek, pale white-skinned, rosy-flecked stretch of naked thigh immediately before him, With his left hand stroking her right hip and his right hand beginning to caress the tender insides of her left thigh, he could tell from Susan's purring sighs and little excited gasps that he was at last on the right track to pussy. And soon he was rewarded as she almost impatiently tugged her slip up to her armpits, and panted, "Oh, you young devil, give it to me now, put it into me, give me all you've got!"
With a happy cry, Wally husked off his shorts, mounted Susan Amory, and this time she did not rebuke him for his brash vigor and impetuosity. With a gurgling sigh of bliss, she wrapped her long legs over his sinewy ass, flicked her tongue deep between his panting lips, and they began to fuck.
In her apartment, silver-blonde Dorothea Bun-son was also treating herself to young male ardor. Her choice had fallen on a fourteen-year-old boy from Carl Edwards' class, Roger Turnbull. He was quite tall, black-haired, with olive skin, and his high cheekbones and dark eyes suggested a heritage of the American Indian. However, his maternal grandmother had been an Italian, tall and dark exactly like himself. He had already been introduced to fucking three months earlier, being mated with an attractive fifteen-year-old brunette from Jennifer Addams' classes.
Dorothea, of all the instructresses, had definite sadistic bent, possibly because her wealthy parents had married her off at the age of eighteen to a man in his early forties who himself had been a sadistic voluptuary and whose favorite sport was tying Dorothea spread-eagled on the bed, blindfolding her, then using a hairbrush on her spacious, resilient behind until he was ready to fuck or brown her. She had escaped, gone to court to get a settlement from her unscrupulous husband, denounced her parents for their avarice and ruthlessness, and then gone to a European college to major in education. There she had discovered the joys of Lesbos, in a torrid affair with one of the instructresses.
When she returned to the United States, she became a tutoress to a family of three boys and two girls, and, since the family was in the charge of an elderly uncle who cared very little about his young kin, she was left free to experiment with them. Before she left the job two years later, she had slept with all five and educated them into an enthusiastic appreciation of lovemaking.
Now wearing knee-length white kid boots with high heels, shoulder-length gloves of the same material, she had Roger naked across her lap while she sat in an armchair, her left arm around his waist while her right hand flicked a slim black leather riding crop over his compact, smooth naked bottom cheeks.
Dorothea had observed that spanking excited not only her but also the victim. Already, after half a dozen flicks with the crop, she had begun to feel Roger's still and very vigorous young prick rubbing against her bare thigh.
"Do you think you can be a good boy and do everything I tell you to now?" she demanded as she raised the crop and brought it down with a somewhat more solid smack over both his huddling ass-cheeks.
"Oww, oh yes, Miss Bunson!" the youth sobbingly avowed.
"All right. Suppose we try you out then. Get off my lap, get down on your knees, and I'll tell you what to do next," she directed.
As soon as he obeyed, sniffing and trying to control his tears, she pointed to her pussy with the tip of the riding crop. "Now then, young man, put your hands on my tits and touch them very gently, then bow your head down and kiss my pussy," she commanded.
As he obeyed, Dorothea Bunson squirmed in her chair and closed her eyes with a beautiful expression on her perversely lovely face. Decidedly, there was nothing in the world like Madame Helga's school!