This letter appeared in the “Buxom Beauties” magazine on June 9, 1996:
Hi! My name is Courtney. I had the most breathtaking experience with an older woman earlier this year. And, as a lover of busty ladies and a faithful reader of your magazine, I just had to write and tell your readers all about it!
First, let me tell you all just a little bit about myself. I am a sophomore at an all girls’ college in Missouri, majoring in education. I am on the tall side, with long brown hair and green eyes. Ever since my first naughty experience with a woman as a junior in high school, I have had the biggest craving to be with big-breasted ladies. I guess you could call it a fetish. You see, my first girlfriend Kari (one of my older sister’s friends), was a voluptuous blonde with the most gorgeous pair of titties. Whenever we could manage to sneak off together, I couldn’t wait to tear her blouse off and run my fingers and tongue all over her delicious 38DD’s. Mmmmmm. I am slipping a finger into my wet pussy now just remembering those sexy times… OK. Let me try to calm myself down a bit so that I can tell you about my experience…
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Well, the story begins with the start of this semester and my Anthropology class. When I walked into the classroom, I couldn’t believe it! It was like all of my deepest fantasies had been fulfilled! For there, sitting on the desk at the front of the room, was Mrs. Fellini. With her sultry smile, fabulous figure, and flirty black skirt, she would have caught the eye and captivated the heart of any lesbian girl, for sure. But what really threw me into a tizzy was the revealing blouse that she was wearing. Because of its plunge, I could clearly see that Ann (as I was to later learn her name was) was very well endowed indeed. All through the first class, as Ms. Fellini discussed the syllabus and her expectations for us, I could do nothing more than stare at her bosoms and dream about being alone with her and those marvelous melons. I pictured her calling me into her office, locking the door, and then slowly unbuttoning her blouse. I imagined her slipping her fingers inside of my panties as I licked every inch of her breathtaking boobies. In my mind, I heard her moaning as I licked and sucked on her sweet nipples. Then the moaning grew to shouting and screaming as I gently bit down on them. By the end of the class, my black bikinis were moist with my pleasure juice. I was aching to be the teacher’s pet!
When Ms. Fellini dismissed the class, I lingered a little to watch her for as long as possible. As I began to move toward the door to leave, suddenly I heard her sweet voice from behind me. “Ah, excuse me, miss,” she called out, causing me to turn back around. My heart began racing. She was talking to me! “Miss… um… Alexander, was it?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s right,” I nodded in confirmation, extending my hand to her, “Courtney. Courtney Alexander.”
“I am delighted to meet you, Courtney,” she said, taking my hand and shaking it as I had hoped. Mmmmm. The touch of her skin was electrifying. “I noticed with pleasure that you were very attentive during today’s lecture,” my beautiful professor continued, “You seemed almost entranced. Do you enjoy anthropology?” Then she asked me a question that caught me a little off guard. “How would you like to make a little extra money this semester?” she asked.
My heart skipped a beat, wondering just what it was that my sexy teacher had in mind. Then she continued, “I am working on a very interesting research project and I need a research assistant to help me with my investigations. I could pay you a little more than the standard work study jobs here, and I guarantee you that it will be more fun then flipping burgers at the cafeteria.”
She smiled and looked at me with a hopeful look on her face. Of course, I don’t need to tell you that she didn’t have to work very hard to sell me on the idea. Just the mere prospect of being able to spend more time with this alluring lady had my heart pounding and my pussy moistening again! I would have worked for free just for the opportunity to be alone with her! “What do you say?” she asked.
“Yes, yes…” I managed to stammer, “That would be great.” As I fumbled with my words, I thought to myself, “Great?! Did you just say great? It won’t be great, silly — it will be heaven!”
“Excellent!” she said, her face beaming with delight. “Say, do you have any free time now?” she then asked. “If you don’t have a class next hour, I would love to show you my laboratory and tell you all about my research.”
I thought for a moment, and remembered that I usually met my girlfriend Brittany at the student union at about this time. But this seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. “I’d love to go,” I gushed, “I don’t have any other classes on Tuesdays except for yours.”
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, “Follow me then! My lab is a few floors below this one.”
We walked together down a long hallway and then down several flights casino şirketleri of stairs toward the building’s lowest level. I purposefully lagged behind a little so that I could gaze on Ms. Fellini’s pretty bottom. As I watched her sweet checks sway back and forth and surveyed her long, luscious legs, my mind wandered into sinful territory. I imagined locking the lab door behind us and confessing my lust for her. I saw myself tearing off her top in an animal frenzy and burying my face between her delightful breasts. Then I envisioned her pushing me back onto one of the lab benches, climbing on top of me, and dangling her sweet succulent fruits above my waiting lips. “Suck them, my pet,” I heard her whisper to me in my mind, ” Please suck on them. Make me tremble with the touch of your tongue.” My face went flush as I imagined the sexy scene. “Compose yourself, Court,” I told myself. I thought to myself, “If she had any idea of the devilish things that are going through my mind right now!” Little did I know…
As we approached the door to her laboratory, I finally managed to break away from my daydreaming and ask: “So, professor, just what sort of research do you do?” Mrs. Fellini took out a key from her purse and unlocked the door, revealing a cozy room. In the center of the room were several tables that were covered with magazines and books. A very large number of boxes were stacked on the tall shelves that lined the walls of the room. “Well,” she began, as we stepped inside the lab room, “For many years I have been exploring a question of great interest to me.” She gently shut the door behind us and then asked: “Tell me, Courtney, do you think that you can tell things about a human’s personality by the clothes that they choose to wear?”
“Well, yes,” I said after a moment’s thought. I looked up and down the sexy outfit that my professor was sporting. “I think that a person’s choice in clothes can sometimes be very… um… revealing, Professor Fellini.”
“So do I,” said Mrs. Fellini, “And by the way, you can call me Ann. I like to be on a first name basis with all of my close associates.” She smiled deeply at me and moved over to where I was standing. “I have always felt that you could learn a great deal about a woman, in particular, by her choices of color in clothing, Courtney. And,” she continued, now turning away from me and stepping back toward one of the shelves, “My theory has always been that the closer the clothes are to a woman’s body, the more intimate the revelations about her nature.”
Mrs Fellini seemed to be looking for something on one of the lower shelves. Her request to call her by her first name and her use of the word “intimate” had me feeling warm inside again. I didn’t want to lose control, so I turned away for a moment and glanced over at the top of the bench beside me. As I looked more closely at it, I realized – all of the sudden – that the materials on top of it (which I had assumed before to be scholarly journals!) were, in fact, a collection of lingerie catalogs and pornographic magazines. One of the nudie magazines was opened to a pictorial entitled: “The Secret Lives of Victoria’s Girls”! It featured a group of three gorgeous women, all clad in lacy teddies, making love to one another inside of a department store dressing room.
Filled with a sudden jolt of fear and excitement, I turned quickly away from the table and back towards Ann. She was bending over to pick up a box from a lower shelf. Her motion allowed my to catch a glimpse of her panties, which were a silky, satiny white. As she stood back up, she winked at me and said: “So, do you see anything here that interests you, Courtney?”
She moved back over very close to me and set the box she was holding down on the table, pushing some of the magazines to the side. “I want to show you now the focus of my research,” she whispered into my ear, in a very non-professional manner. As she took the top off of the box, she was standing so close to me that I could see right down her blouse, giving me the clearest view yet of her amazing breasts. They were round and ravishing, easily 40DD’s. Mrs. Fellini touched the bottom of my chin lightly and directed my gaze from her chest over toward the now-opened box. “What do you see inside of here?” Mrs. Fellini asked.
I stared inside. The box was filled to the brim with ladies undies of all sorts! There were an array of briefs, bikinis, and skimpy thongs. Some of the pretty panties were made of silk and lace, while others were made of more ordinary cotton. Each one of the pairs had a small tag affixed to it on which a woman’s name was printed. The thing that really caught my eye, though, was that all of the panties in this box, no matter what the variation, were all pink. “Wow,” I exclaimed, as I rummaged through the box and inspected a few of the pairs: “Where did you get all of this underwear?!”
Ann smiled at me and winked again. “They are not just pairs of underwear, my pupil,” Mrs. Fellini whispered to me, “They are windows into a woman’s world, into her very soul.”
There was casino firmaları now a hungry look in my professor’s eye. Her voice became more passionate and urgent as she spoke. She picked up one of the pairs of pink panties from the box – a darling string bikini with a little bow on top – and held it near my face, allowing its fabric to gently caress my cheek. “What do you think can we say about those women who choose to wear pink next to their skin?”, she asked me.
“I… I don’t know,” I stammered.
“Of course you do,” my professor insisted. “You have met them before. I, myself, have studied them at great length. From my research, I know their ways…” And here she paused for a moment before stressing the next word: “intimately.” She held the pink bikinis up in the air. “The women in pink,” she proclaimed with a conviction that came from years of experience, “are – as a rule – very conservative and cautious. They do not take risks or chances. Yet inwardly they have the same desires and passions as all women do.”
As she spoke these last words, she moved close to me again. I felt her warm body press against mine. “I have concluded, Courtney, that you can discover what type of person any woman is simply by looking at the colors of the panties that she tends to favor.” Then there was a moment of magic as I felt Mrs. Fellini’s right hand upon the inside of my thigh. My whole body began to tingle as her fingers crept up the inside of my legs, toward my soaked skivvies and my now-quivering clit. She played with the top of my bikinis for a moment, feeling the cottony fabric. Then I moaned in excitement as she slipped her fingers underneath the panties. In a sultry, throaty voice, she whispered to me: “Just what kind of girl are *you*, Mrs. Alexander?”
My professor’s fingers found the opening of my pussy and she pressed two of them inside. She slid them in and out a few times, repeating the same question each time that her naughty fingers probed inside my aching cunnie. “What kind of girl are you, my sweet assistant?” she cooed over and over. I was in ecstasy. The feeling of her fingers pumping into me was driving me to the brink. I felt like I would explode in orgasm any second. I looked up into my teacher’s eyes. She was beaming back at me with the most intense look of satisfaction on her face. Now the pace of her finger fucking slowed a little and her question changed to a demand: “Tell me what kind of woman you are, Courtney. Tell your professor,” she said insistently.
My head was swimming with pleasure from the delicious feeling of her slow, deliberate stroking inside of me. Waves of joy crashed over me. I was finding it hard to speak, to do anything other than simply moan and sigh. I let out a long cry of delight. I wanted her to frig me more quickly. Oh, I wanted that so badly. But Ann’s stroking only slowed down further, and then stopped altogether. When she removed her fingers from my vagina, I let out a little cry. “No,” I whimpered, “Don’t stop. Please, please don’t stop. I want to.. I need to cum.”
Mrs. Fellini’s response was stern. “Tell me!” she said in a loud and forceful voice, “I want to hear it from your own mouth. Tell the teacher what kind of girl you are, or you won’t get any extra credit!” I looked back up at Mrs. Fellini. With both hands she took off her blouse. Then she unclasped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Now she was standing right in front of me nearly buck naked. Her mammoth titties were staring right at me, ready to burst at any minute from the bonds of the lacy white brassiere that just barely them in check. Her perky nipples were hard and protruding through the thin fabric of the silky bra.
“You want these, don’t you?” she asked, showing off her boobs proudly. I was mesmerized. All I could do was nod my head slowly in response. “You yearn for them, don’t you, my darling?” Ann continued. “You want to lick them, to feel them, to suck them…” Ann now released the clasp on her bra, letting her gorgeous globes swing free in front of me. Then, slowly, she began massaging her tits. As she pleasured herself, she purred: “I want to give them to you, to give all of myself to you…. Just tell me what kind of girl you are. I need to hear it from you…” As she spoke, she slipped one of her hands down inside of her panties while the other one continued to roam freely over her beautiful breasts. It was so erotic watching her standing there in front of me, masturbating so shamelessly and uninhibited.
I was totally under my teacher’s spell. I watched hypnotically as Mrs. Fellini pulled her wet fingers from her panties and brought them up to her lips. I stared in a trance as she tasted her own sweet juices, sucking them from her index finger as a slut might lick the jism off of a hard, spurting cock. All the while she continued to play with her pretty titties with the other hand. She looked deep into my eyes as she played with herself: “Does this turn you on, baby?” she said in a devilish voice, “Does watching me like this TIT-ilate you?” She smiled and giggled. “Just tell the teacher your güvenilir casino secret and my boobies are all yours,” she promised.
I couldn’t bear it any longer. I could no longer hold back what I wanted to admit to her, what I now needed to confess. “I… I… “, I began.
“Yes,” Mrs. Fellini purred encouragingly, wrapping both of her hands around my bottom. “You can tell me. Tell your teacher what kind of girl you are…”
Mrs. Fellini’s right hand moved back between my legs while her left began to fondle and stroke my bum cheeks. “I.. I… I am BAD girl,” I gushed. There. I had said it. I had been thinking it ever since I had been sitting in class, imagining doing all of those sexy things with her. What I bad girl I was to be having such thoughts!
“Yes,” Mrs. Fellini said strongly, her fingers now finding there way back inside of my pussy again. “Yes, you are a VERY bad girl.” Slowly, deliberately she began to fuck me again. Oh, yes, I thought to myself. Oh, yes. This is just what I needed so badly. I would confess anything, everything to her, willingly, openly — if she would just keep doing that to me. I could feel her thumb now sweetly stroking my clit. I squealed in delight. Mrs. Fellini probed still further: “Tell me more, Courtney. How else would you describe yourself?” she asked.
“I am so naughty,” I mumbled, trying to stay coherent, “So very naughty… I am obsessed with sex… I have to have it all the time. “
“Yes,” she agreed, her fingers now moving faster and faster again. “You are a nasty, naughty nymph,” she said, “You were thinking of having sex with me all through my lecture, weren’t you?”, she questioned. I nodded helplessly, hopelessly lost in this sweet moment of rapture. Mrs. Fellini’s left hand moved up my side. Skillfully, she began to unbutton my blouse as her right continued its delicious assault on my hungry hole. “You could hardly take your eyes off of my chest during class, you little tart,” she continued. One by one, the buttons of my blouse came undone. “You are such a wanton, wicked little wench, aren’t you?” Lost in bliss, I was finding it hard to speak again. “AREN’T YOU?!” Mrs. Fellini demanded again sternly.
“Yes, yes… I am… I am a sinful, sinful slut, ” I admitted. I didn’t want to risk her stopping again. My breath was now starting to come in gasps. I was so close to my climax. I never wanted this moment to end. My unbuttoned blouse fell to the floor, leaving my braless breasts fully exposed to her sight. “Mmmmm,” she grinned, as she took in the sight of them, “You are so beautiful, my assistant. And I’ll bet your black panties look just amazing, too”. She smiled as she spoke those last words. As she said them, I realized with a shock that, for all of her lustful advances toward me, Mrs. Fellini had never yet actually lifted up my skirt or seen my panties. Yet somehow she knew instinctively that they must be black. I opened my eyes and gazed at her in a mixture of wonder and ecstacy.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Fellini said, kissing me and sliding her tongue sexily inside my mouth. “I had a feeling that you were a woman in black all along. I could sense it from the hungry way that you first looked at me.” She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me deeply and passionately, pressing her body hard against mine. She pressed so hard that I felt we would melt together. All the while, she kept on diddling my clit and sliding her long fingers in and out of my slovenly slit. As she stroked away, she never stopped whispering in my ear: “You are like all of ladies of the dark night, Courtney. You are always craving sex. You are constantly consumed with desires, lusting and longing to be touched. It is this way, I have found, with all of the ladies in black.”
“Mmmm, mmmm… Oh, yes, Ann, ” I gushed, as our lips locked and our tongues intertwined in a decadent dance. “Oh, you are so right. Oh, you are so, so good…” And then, in a rush, I came. I came all over her hand. It was the most amazing orgasm I have ever felt. “YES! YES! YES!!! OH, SWEET HEAVENS, YESSSSSSSSS!” I screamed. Then I slumped into her arms, overwhelmed by the force and power of my climax.
Mrs. Fellini slid her soaking fingers from my twitching twat and brought them up to my lips. “Drink your own sweet nectar,” she whispered to me, “I want to see you suck your cum right off of my fingers, baby.” Lewdly, I lapped my wetness from her fingers, sliding my tongue up and down them a few times in a mischievous fashion. I couldn’t believe how much I had cum! “I am yours, professor,” I said, when I had finished, licking my lips naughtily, “I am your little tramp. I want to serve you, to please you.”
“Oh, you have brought me enormous pleasure, sweet assistant,” Ann said reassuringly, grinning from ear to ear. “You have proven yourself to be a most obedient. And for that,” she added, “you will be soon rewarded.” Ann smiled devilishly at her last comment and tweaked one of her nipples to convey her meaning more clearly. “But,” she continued, “before we go any further, I need to have something from you.” And with that, in a sudden motion, Mrs. Fellini reached under my skirt with both of her hands and yanked down my panties. “Hand those to me,” she said, pointing to the sopping black bikinis now around my ankles, “I will need those.”