would continue forever, becoming smaller and smaller, seeming perhaps ultimately to disappear, yet always being there, constantly reminding the young girl that, even years from now, when she sought sexual release, she would crave for it like this, with Glendora or a woman like her arousing her totally and absolutely with lips and tongue.
The girl shuddered almost convulsively and then lay still. Her body was covered with a thin film of perspiration. Her tiny breasts heaved up and down with the expansion and contraction of lungs drawing great gulps of air into themselves.
Glendora still kept her mouth tightly pressed to the girl's wet sexual opening. Gently she continued to caress the hot flesh against her lips and tongue with a lover's soft concern.
Finally, she lifted her head and gazed down at the naked, exhausted girl beneath her.
Sissy Mason was at once unique and like a hundred others before her. She was beautiful in the pink, rosebud flush of childishness coupled with the bloom of adolescence still upon her. Her long blonde hair cascaded like moonlight from her head and flowed like a golden river over the satin sheets of Glen's huge double bed. Her lips were soft, and parted slightly. Her body had all the beauty of first physical maturity without any of the signs of age which would overtake it perhaps even before she ended her teens.
Sissy Mason was the latest in a long string of students at Northrup Academy who had been gratified by and had, in turn, gratified their history teacher and dormitory mistress, Miss Glendora Adams.
Glen looked down at the beautiful slender form of Sissy Mason for a long, luxurious moment before reaching out to touch again the smooth flesh of the girl's abdomen. Gently, she played the palm of one hand over the girl's stomach and up to caress the firm flesh of one pert breast.
Sissy opened her eyes. She was still having some difficulty breathing.
'Did it feel good?' Glen asked.
The girl seemed unable to speak for several seconds. Finally she drew in a shuddering breath and sighed. 'I… I never thought…'
'Never thought what?' Glen asked.
'Never thought I… that… Oh, Miss Adams. It was so good… it felt… I can't even describe…'
'And there's more.' Glen's hand stroked the again erect nipple of the girl's breast.
'More! I don't think I-'
'Oh, yes,' Glen soothed. 'We will share love and pleasure for a long time, Sissy.' Her fingers were like silken stimulators on the girl's already flushed breast. 'There are many things to learn. I will teach you your body as you never knew your body to be. I will show you all the wonderful, sensuous ways it can be thrilled to ecstasy.'
'Oh, Miss Adams, I-'
'Then, I will show you my body. I will teach you how to thrill and be thrilled.'
'Miss Adams… I-'
Glen removed her hand from the girl's breast, then took both of Sissy's hands in hers to lift the girl to a sitting position. 'But now, Sissy,' she said, 'you must go. You can't stay here. Go back to the dormitory and sleep in your own bed. We will share each other another time.'
'But can't I-'
'No, Sissy.' Glen's voice was firm. 'You must not stay here. If anyone found out about this, you know what would happen. You would be expelled and I-well, I'm sure you can imagine.'
The girl lowered her head sadly, and obediently' slid from the bed. She slipped into a pair of filled bikini panties and then into the more austere white blouse and plaid skirt which had for fifty years been the uniform of Northrup Academy. Finally she took the three books she had placed on the table in Glen's living room and started for the door.
Glen was still naked as the girl stopped at the door to the hail and smiled impishly. 'Thanks for helping me with my studies,' she said.
'Oh, my dear, you're very welcome. You know how happy I am to help in any way I can.'
The girl pulled the door open, slipped quickly into the hail and closed it behind her.
Glen stood naked in the small, cozy living room of her apartment. She seemed bathed in the warmth of candlelight. On the turntable, the sensuous rhythm of Ravel's Bolero still played on and on.
She sighed. It was always this way the first time with one of the girls. She would minister to needs they didn't even know existed. She would bring them to arousal and full pleasure, then release; and then they would leave. Sometimes it took her two or three meetings before she could show them how to bring her to her own orgasm.
And always after a first experience with a new partner like Sissy, she would find herself feeling empty, incomplete, and terribly, terribly excited.
She trembled almost as if iii cold as she walked back to the bedroom and opened the door of her wardrobe. She stood staring at herself in the hill length mirror for some time.
She was still remarkably attractive even if she had just passed her thirtieth birthday, she thought. The slender, yet somehow strangely voluptuous reflection of her form stared back at her from the glass of the wardrobe mirror. In the soft glow of the candlelight, it seemed to have a sensuous, yet ghostlike quality, almost as if it were not a reflection of herself, not an image, but, in fact, another woman. This time she let her imagination soar forth on the wings of her excitation. Before her stood, not a child, but a mature sexual partner, her still beautiful and smooth face framed by a thundercloud of ebony hair, her full lips slightly parted, eager to give and take kiss after kiss, eager to savor the equally desirous flesh of her own body.
Glen let her eyes roam downward from full lips to firm jaw, over the pale flesh of her slender back, to her strong, yet softly feminine shoulders, and then to the large and still firm globes of her breasts. She stared at their long nipples appearing almost purple in the flickering light and then, almost as if she were acting as the subject of the image and the image itself were mesmerizing her, she lifted her hands. She let her palms caress her body, moving upward from firm, flaring hips, over her abdomen and up until she was cupping and caressing the flesh of her breasts.
She sighed as the tingling sensations of arousal began to ripple through her. She skillfully played with nipples and breasts with her left hand as she let her right slide downward again. It caressed her flat abdomen, stretched long and eager fingers into the silken tuft of black pubic hair pointing in a perfect arrow to the channel of her passion.
As her left hand kneaded and caressed her breasts, she slid the fingers of her right downward until she found the wet river of passion flowing from her eager vaginal lips. She sighed in ecstasy as she stared at the image in the mirror.
'Make it good,' she said softly. 'Make it come off beautifully.'
She swayed slightly as if rocking to the music which still throbbed from her turntable. Then, she parted her legs slightly, and eagerly slipped two fingers into her already wet vagina.
She found the eager knob of her clitoris and stroked gently, knowing that her arousal was so intense as a result of her contact with Sissy a moment before that it would only be seconds before she too spasmed to orgasm.
Indeed, she had only caressed herself three or four times before the first spasm shot through her.
She gasped. Her legs trembled. She sank to her knees with her finger still flicking rapidly inside her hot flesh.
'Oh, God,' she sighed as wave after wave of intense physical pleasure shot through her. She curled on the floor of her bedroom, savored the texture of the furry carpet and the soft-hard ministrations of her finger caressing her clitoris.
And then, slowly, gradually, it was over, like a coasting vehicle throbbing and jolting and finally coming to an absolute and total halt.
It was over. She had reached physical satisfaction and yet, as always, there was an emptiness to it, and a despair, which she could not quite understand or explain.
Still trembling slightly, she rose to her feet and slowly walked to the living room of her small apartment. She removed the player arm from the record and snapped on the light. Then she set about snuffing the myriad candles which had burned there.
What was wrong with her? she wondered. Was she really so old that sexual contact had lost its thrill for her? She had just turned thirty the day before and the trauma was heavy on her. She was losing her youth and
