Mr. Eastman? I mean, it wouldn't seem too unseemly to you, for me to make such an entrance?" "No, no, think nothing of it. Why should I mind you coming into my bedroom through the window at dawn?" "Good. I can make us some coffee while you get ready," she said, throwing first one leg through then the other. She was wearing a real Jungle Jane outfit of tight khaki pants, short bush jacket and the aforementioned pith helmet, and of course her tortoise-shell eyeglasses. Even under the bulk of that bush jacket her huge titties remained entirely noticeable and exciting, especially to me just then with my cock out and tingling-tired though it was. The bitch kind of got on my nerves, with her self-satisfied air, and that Girl Scout approach. No matter how exhausted I am, I seldom miss a chance to put that type in her place. And her place as I see it, is close to my cock, ready and willing to do what I say. I absently pushed the sheets down the rest of the way off me, to my feet. I stretched my nude body out until it finally caught her eye. She straightened out before the window, and I saw her lick her lips and stare hard at that moist hose hanging down between my legs. Just as shewas looking at it, I moved my hand up and scratched it, just below the head, pushing the shaft from side to side. She kept on looking, unable to avert her eyes. This excited me, and I started to stroke myself slowly, sensually, to be sure, just enough to bring some life to it. Her mouth dropped open and she started sliding across the floor, towards the door. "You going to make that coffee now. Miss Honeywell?" I asked her in a calm tone. "Y-yes," she said, not taking her eyes off of my cock. I squeezed it harder, and really started jerking up and down now, making it swell considerably. She suddenly stopped by the doorway and put both her hands on her hips. She pouted at me sternly. "Just… just what are you d-doing there. Mr. Eastman? I mean, for heaven's sake!" "What? What do you mean? Where?" "Th-there. With your… thing!" "You mean my cock?" "Y-yes." "Well, I was just… you know, jerking myself off, Miss Honeywell. I do that every morning. It kind of starts off my day for me, gets the adrenelin rolling, if you see what I mean. Some people get out and run a mile or do pushups. I just play with my cock, and it's more fun than those other things." Miss Honeywell was rattier put on by the spectacle of me masturbating,and probabiy not impressed by my explanation. "Well, really, Mr. Eastman, having studied the functions of the human body, I cannot see any physical reason why anyone should… uh, abuse himself in such a way, except, perhaps, simply for personal gratification…" "Yeah, that's why I do it. Personal gratifying," I proclaimed, beating away at my meat. "Of course, it's much more gratifying if it's done with a partner, a member of the opposite sex, such as yourself, dear." She stared hard at my growing prick, raising her eyebrows and swallowing loudly. "Am I… am I embarrassing you, Miss Honeywell?" "Em-embarrassing me? No, no, of course not, I'm a mature person, and as I said, I certainly know all of the functions of the human body, even the unnecessary ones." I laughed softly and wagged a finger at her. "Yes, I bet you know all about it. In fact, I have a hunch you do something similar yourself." "What?" "You heard me," I said. "I bet you do a little masturbating too, when the mood hits you, stick your fingers in your pussy and work up a lather." She coughed nervously and cleared her throat. "I… I can't believe you're speaking to me this way…I don't think this is a suitable topic at all…” "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, as you said. We can admit things like that" "But really, I mean to say…" I continued pumping my rod. Sperm was swelling out of it now. I was quite turned on, jerking off in front of this outwardly prim and proper young schoolmarm with the very big tits I very much wanted to fondle. I whispered sexily, "You can be frank with me, Miss Honeywell. I'm being frank with you. You can answer me yes or no whether you masturbate from time to time." She heaved a nervous sigh and nodded, head fluttering. "I… I suppose I might, occasionally. But only… only when I'm taking a bath." "Ah, that's interesting. Never in bed, eh?" "No." "Yes," I said, closing my eyes and smiling at a mental image, "I can see you now, scrubbing away, a bar of soap jammed up your pussy hole, making you come and making you clean at the same time." "Please, don't be vulgar!" Well, she acted like her sense of decency was outraged, but she certainly didn't move from the spot where she was standing, with a good view of my erect cock which she took advantage of, staring intently. It was time to take action with this Victorian-style spinster and her sense of propriety. "Come over here," I said. “What? I… I have to make the coffee. If you still intend to go with me you better be getting ready… unless you don't intend to…" "Of course I'm going with you, I wouldn't miss it. But first, let's have a little fun. Come on, you'll enjoy it. Really you will. Sit down here next to me." She moved towards me with a hesitant step, gazing down at my extended pole, glistening with semen, stretching and wagging out from my fist. She reached a point a few inches from me and I grabbed her left elbow, pulling her down to the bed. "Stop it, Mr. Eastman! What are you doing? What are you doing there with my hand?" "I want you to feel my prick. Doesn't it feel nice. Miss Honeywell? Be honest." I pressed the back of her trembling hand against the middle of my shaft. She started to pull away. I held her, twisting the hand around laying the palm flat against me down there. And all of a sudden she stopped pulling away. She gripped my cock, wet and taut as it was. "You like that, huh?" She gulped loudly. "Y-yes, I suppose so." "What's it feel like?" "I don't know… warm and alive… I've never felt anything quite like it before." "What? You've never touched a prick before?" "No, I haven't." "But… you aren't a virgin, are you? Oh no, it couldn't be, not at your age!" "I did not say I was a virgin, Mr. Eastman. I have had several sexual experiences in the past, at college. I just never happened to touch the man's… organ. Each of those experiences was over rather quickly." "You didn't touch them?” I said, wondering how that could have happened. "But what stopped you? How did they fuck you, from behind or something?" "No, they fucked me-made love to me, in the normal way. I just never happened to touch them while they did it." While she was talking, her hand started going into action, squeezing my tool tight and jerking it slowly up and down, up and down, letting the come drip over her hand. I got what seemed to me a very good idea. While she was jerking me off, I would jerk her off. I asked her if her pussy wasn't aroused by her actions. She was embarrassed by the question, and started to loosen her grip on my joint. I held her wrist and kept it wrapped around me, returned it to the jerking motion, up and down, faster and faster. I put my hands on her belt and undid it. I unbuttoned the tight trousers and pulled their zipper down. She made a weak attempt to stop me, but I deflected it and led her hand back to my cock. She was almost addicted to it now, stroking away with rising passion. "Lift your ass up," I told her. She raised those lovely, wide buttocks up for a moment and I slid her slacks down to her knees. She was wearing tight, transparent white panties. Slowly, sensually, my hand slid up along her fleshy bare thigh, upward to the smooth nylon crotchband, plump with pubic hair. "Spread your legs, baby." Miss Honeywell did so. I pressed the tips of my fingers under the elastic of the panties and onto the edge of her fat, fluffy vagina. With a sudden jab, taking her by surprise, I poked my middle finger straight in at the hot moist furrow. She gasped and shivered from the thrill of it, closing her thighs against me and at the same time increasing the speed with which she pumped my throbbing prick. She screamed for me to push my finger in further, deeper inside her pussy. I straightened the finger, pushing it in deeper, up into the trembling, dark passage. Her groin shook convulsively. I stuck my index finger into the gash. at the tip, touching the hardened bud of her clitoris, and I played with it, teased it, quickly making her utterly delirious with feelings of lust. "Oh God," she moaned, abandoning my cock and peeling her panties down over the wide curve of her milky-white hips. "God, I'm so hot… all of a sudden!" I helped her with the panties, pulling them down to her knees. Her thick, fleecy black pubic triangle was in full view, dewy with the liquid of her bottled-up passion, I rolled my free hand over it and tugged on the hard, tangled hairs. She squeaked in 1 sheer delight and lay back on the bed, opening her thighs to their apex, and exhibiting an enormous, juice-drenched fuckhole that I quickly bent down to and kissed right in its sopping pink center. I licked up all the white foam and swallowed it down, and then I kissed it some more, opening the labes with my fingers and pressing my lips right into the funnel, a hot and undulating passage. Miss Honeywell giggled. She groaned. She shook her hips in an aggravated rhythm, and clutched at my hair, pulling me into her with violent abandon. I lapped at her womanhood with mounting speed and enjoyment. It was fresh and sweet and sexy, and I dragged my lips right over every square inch of it, licking with faster and faster strokes, making her cry out and claw at me and shudder. "Ahhhh! That feels so good… oh yes, yes, my pussy feels so very nice… so hot, yes, your tongue, lick me, lick that hole of mine…" I kept my face in her hot, flared cunt for another minute or two, riding her bucking loins like a cowboy. Then I climbed up on the bed and thrust my cock in her direction. It was still rigid and throbbing. I shoved my organ back at her. Her hands dived for it, and caught it around the base. She ran her fingers around and pulled it towards her hungrily. She drew in a deep breath as I resumed my cunt-lapping and she started jerking the rock-hard cock up and down at a tremendous clip. White foam poured around the mouth of her cunt, a mad-dog froth I gobbled up like it was nectar. She shook again, her whole body vibrating with the sensations she was feeling in her center, that quivering blood-red sex hole. She screamed all the while, and she jerked on my swollen rod, with both hands, one on top of the other. "Such a big cock!” she screamed. "Such a lovely one! Ohhh! Eat me, eat my pussy!" Harder and faster she pumped me. I snorted and gasped with the feel of impending release sweeping over me. And I kept on licking at the fire-hot wetness of her lush vagina. We rolled and twisted on the bed like beached fish. "I'm gonna come. Miss Honeywell?" I shouted at her. "Get ready for it!" "Yes, yes, come on me! Let it go all over me!" she groaned back frantically. She jerked up and down several more times, and then my prick spit its white fuel, gob after gob of the hot liquid, and it splashed on her face, into her hair. She threw her tongue out and licked at it furiously, her eyes closed, flying through the white clouds of orgasm. I had my mouth and three fingers plying her depths in furious circles, in and around and around. My prick shot a final burst, but she wasn’t satisfied, and she primed it and shook it for more. When she realized I had given her all I had, she rubbed her hands over what was there, smearing the white goo all over her face and down her neck, staining her bush jacket. "I… I never felt anything quite… my pussy, it just… came all alive, Mr. Eastman…" "Glad you enjoyed it." She nervously asked me if I was going to fuck her, too, but I put her off for the time being, telling her I was worn out, I continued to finger her vibrating lovehole. It was big and taut and roomy, with those thick lips lined with long, curly black hairs. I still had a few of the latter stuck between my teeth. She told me to move my hands faster. Obviously, she wasn't ready to come down to earth yet. So I pushed half my hand into her cunt and revolved it, moving it faster and with more pressure, till she was squirming and moaning and clawing at me. She ground around with intense arousal. Her cunt was drenched with her own passion juice. "Yes, yes, oh God, that's good, Mr. Eastman! Ahhhh!" Round and round my fist went, circling within the wet folds of flesh, wedging itself inside, the dripping pinkness. Miss Honeywell gritted her teeth and made strange blowing noises. Her nostrils flared wildly. She flung her head back and gasped like an epileptic. Her thighs smacked together, holding my hand tight where it was. I laughed at the melodramatics she was going through on the bed, writhing and panting like she was possessed by the devil II or someone of that ilk. It couldn't go on forever, however, because my hand was starting to get cramped. In another minute, I forcibly plucked my hand out from her heat and stood up off the bed. "What are you doing?" she whimpered. "Why did you stop? Youmustn't stop…" "We've got to get out on that hike, remember? And I've got to take a shower.” She glared at me, still thrashing about on the bed, her legs clutched tightly together. Suddenly, she threw her own hand into that convulsive cavern, sticking it violently and deeply up her hole and jerking away madly. I watched her jerking herself off for a minute, and then I went into the bathroom, taking some clothes with me. When I came out, she was still wrestling with her pussy. I asked her if she wanted some coffee, and between gasps, she said yes. I went out to the kitchen, laughing. When Miss Honeywell got turned on, I was thinking, she really turned on. While I was pouring the coffee, she came out. Her clothes were all back in their right places. Only the come stains on her bush jacket showed any evidence of her recent adventure. She sat down at the table beside me. "Feeling okay?" I said. She nodded, but kept her head low, sipping at the coffee. I told her not to be embarrassed. "You enjoyed it, right? Well that's all that counts. Miss Honeywell, really." "I suppose." "Then stop looking so glum. Smile, Enjoy life." She pushed her eyeglasses further back on her nose. She cleared her throat and smiled tentatively. "Thafs the girl," I said.