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Mr. Black’s experiments had only pushed the age difference part of the equation so far, about thirty-five years between the youngest and oldest participants. He wanted to go as far as he could in that regard, which meant an eighteen year old freshman student and the oldest volunteer he could find, Miss Scarple, a seventy-three year old from the food service department. Affectionately known as ‘Grandma’ to the students, she had been with the school for over four decades, serving food with a smile.
The fifty-five year age difference would be pushing things, especially since Miss Scarple wasn’t the most attractive woman of her age group. To put it a different way, she was no Jane Fonda. Her skin was a bit loose, her face wrinkled and aged, and who knew what lay beneath her ill-fitting grey and white food service uniform.
Mr. Becker was a shy freshman. Tall and lanky, he was a certified first-class nerd, studying computer science. He and Miss Scarple came together in the stairwell leading up to Mr. Black’s room.
“Oh hello!” Miss Scarple said, greeting the young man she’d seen in line at the cafeteria.
“Hi Grandma,” Mr. Becker said as they climbed the stairs. “I’ve never seen you on this part of campus.”
“That nice Mr. Black has asked me to participate in one of his experiments,” she said.
“Me too!” Mr. Becker said. “I’m at ten o’clock.”
“Yes, that’s it. I guess we’re in it together,” Miss Scarple said.
She’d heard rumors that there were sexual subjects discussed, and wondered if she’d be embarrassed with Mr. Becker being there. He was rather attractive, she thought, in a straight-laced kind of way. He held the door for her as they walked into Mr. Black’s room.
“Thank you both for coming. Have a seat please,” Mr. Black said, his deep voice reverberating in the big, open space.
He gave them the usual talk about confidentiality, and had them sign the forms. Miss Scarple couldn’t help but notice the big bed in the middle of the room, made up with a tight-fitting grey sheet. A few impure thoughts about what it could be there for were tempered by the random items piled on it: a few old lap-top computers, some books, a stack of files. She was brought back to reality by Mr. Black’s booming voice.
“We’ve been studying instinct here this semester. The links between animal instinct and human instinct, pure instinct and action. What I’d like you both to do at this time is stand and disrobe.”
“Disrobe Mr. Black?” Miss Scarple said. Her gentle face tightened as her eyes searched Mr. Black’s face.
“Yes, please. And then we can proceed,” he said.
“Proceed with what? I didn’t make it this far in life with my virtue intact to let myself be seen that way in a classroom,” she said, uncertainty and a hint of anger welling in her voice.
“I can assure you Miss Scarple this is a purely scientific experiment. There have been many before you, faculty and students alike, participating in this way. But if you are truly uncomfortable with the idea you may go. Mr. Becker, if you are willing to proceed and Miss Scarple isn’t, I can bring you back on another day.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess I am,” young Mr. Becker said.
“Very good. Miss Scarple?”
She looked at Mr. Black and the young man seated next to her. For reasons she didn’t quite understand she said she’d stay. The second request for her to disrobe echoed in her head like a psychedelic sound effect from a bad movie. The student next to her was shirtless already when she stood to join him, her hands going to her own shirt buttons, the feel of them very different from when she put the shirt on that morning. Every little ridge of every little button was registering on her fingertips, the heightened sensitivity reaching all her senses as her eyes watched the light hit the shimmering satin of the camisole being slowly revealed underneath. The scent of her suddenly hot skin rose from below the loose undergarment to her nose.
By the time she pulled the tails of the open shirt free from the waistband of her nondescript grey uniform pants, young Mr. Becker was in nothing but his old-fashioned white briefs. Her body reacted with a deep exhale through her nose when she saw his long, hairy legs and the bulge of his penis under the thin cotton fabric.
Her buttons now undone, the short-sleeved shirt slid down her arms. Under the florescent lights the skin on her arms looked dry, her heightened state of mind registering a quick reminder to moisturize later, when she got home. Her next thought was about what was going to happen—would they sit completely naked and talk about sex? The rumors around campus where all about sex, nothing else was mentioned. Discussing sex while naked would certainly alter the conversation she thought, although she really didn’t know because she’d never talked about sex with anyone but her late sister, and those conversations were brief and didn’t cover much ground.
Her spinning mind, full of different thoughts, allowed her hands to work unencumbered—or less encumbered anyway—by the casino şirketleri puritanical screaming in her head to stop what she was doing and get the hell out of there. Her comfortable ‘lunch lady’ shoes and socks were off, and the loose grey uniform pants were soon in her hand.
As she straightened up after removing them she got her first look at it—a flesh and blood penis, the first she had ever seen. Young Mr. Becker was naked. The gasp her body wanted to expel was held, her breath locked in stasis, every square inch of her frozen with the exception of her pounding heart.
She had no idea a penis could be that big. My goodness, she thought, how do men walk around with such things hidden away, with barely a clue of them under their pants. She tried not to stare, but it was just so astonishing she couldn’t help it.
So far her legs were bare, but her next move would bare much more. She took hold of the hem of the camisole, and in one fluid move swept it off over her head. The thought of standing there in her industrial looking bra and huge, loose-fitting panties seemed worse than the alternative, so she quickly removed them and put her hands over the wispy grey hair at her crotch.
Her arms in that position pushed her soft tits together, making them look firmer and younger than when nothing but gravity had their way with them. Her nipples, much to her displeasure, were hard.
Young Mr. Becker’s penis, much to his own chagrin, was responding. Those soft tits he was blatantly staring at were the first flesh-and-blood tits he had ever seen. Mr. Black, through some strange twist of fate, had two virgins on his hands.
“Very good,” he said. “Please, if you would both tell me your thoughts at the moment.”
Miss Scarple looked at young Mr. Becker, now holding his hands at his crotch as she was, trying in vain to cover the long length of his penis.
“I’m a bit weak in the knees,” she said, turning back to Mr. Black. “A bit scrambled feeling actually. This is all very unusual for me, more than you can imagine, I’m sure.”
“Yes. Unusual,” Mr. Becker said when Mr. Black turned to him. “I feel like smiling, but…should I?”
“Please,” Mr. Black said. “I want you both to act on your feelings as well as describing them.”
“Alright then,” Mr. Becker said. “I’m not the happiest kid, by a long shot, but right now, I feel so happy. It seems crazy. I should be really nervous, and I guess I am, but I feel like jumping up and down and celebrating for some reason. It’s a weird combination of feelings.”
Miss Scarple wondered what his big penis would look like if he jumped up and down. “Yes,” she said. “A combination of feelings. To be honest, I wondered all my life if this would ever happen to me. I don’t mean being naked in an experiment like this, but just, with a man, without clothes. It’s a first for me, I’m afraid.”
Young Mr. Becker relaxed, his smile more natural. Knowing Miss Scarple hadn’t done anything either eased his mind. “Me too,” he said. “A first, I mean.”
Mr. Black was delighted with the virgin angle. It was a first for the experiments, as far as he knew.
“Miss Scarple? How does your body feel?” Mr. Black asked.
“My body, oh my. There’s definitely things happening, I mean you can see some of it,” she said, looking down at her protruding nipples. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel more relaxed than I thought I would. My nakedness doesn’t seem to be making you two men run for cover. I’ve often wondered if it would. Having no point of reference can play tricks on one’s mind over the years. I’m finding myself wishing I’d done this a long, long time ago.”
“Mr. Becker? Your body?” Mr. Black said.
The young man looked down at his mostly hard penis, which even his long fingers couldn’t cover completely. “I’m afraid you can see it with me too,” he said. “I don’t really mind though. It feels…liberating? Is that the right word? I’ve always been kinda terrified of a girl, a woman, seeing me like this, but now…I kinda want her to…see all of me, if it’s all right.”
He looked into Miss Scarple’s friendly eyes. She smiled, the lovely smile of a relaxed woman, a smile that went right to the young man’s heart. His hands slowly released his penis, a blood filled appendage that now would be more accurately described as a cock. After rising halfway up when he let it loose, it engorged even fuller, standing proud a little above horizontal, with a banana like upward curl.
The gasp Miss Scarple held back when they were undressing made its way freely out of her chest as she watched the young cock rise.
“Miss Scarple, as I said before, these experiments depend on actions as well as comments,” Mr. Black said. “Please let your instincts take you where they may.”
“I’m quite dying to know what it feels like,” she said, breathing deeply and irregularly. “Of course that’s just my feelings. I would never…”
“Please, let your instincts take you where they may,” Mr. Black repeated. “Both of you.”
“Oh my,” she said in casino firmaları a near whisper. “Mr. Becker?”
She looked hopefully into his eyes, beautiful, youthful eyes that responded with an invitation, at least that’s what Miss Scarple saw. She took a step toward the young man, her hand already on the way out, coming up from underneath the hard shaft. Her palm cradled it for a second or two before her slender fingers closed around the circumference of it, the heat and softness of it nearly taking her breath away.
“Oh my!” she whispered as she looked at it in her hand.
She could feel the pulse of the young man’s heart, and the whole thing seemed to jump every few seconds, like it had a mind of it’s own.
“I’ve always wondered,” she said softly.
“Mr. Becker?” Mr. Black said.
The young man moaned quietly as Miss Scarple’s hand gently squeezed his cock. He’d never felt anything like it, his own masturbating never gave him as intense a feeling as Miss Scarple’s gentle touch. His mind was swirling with thoughts of fucking her, but he didn’t feel comfortable saying anything about that.
“It feels amazing,” he said. “I’m kind of lost in the…in the feeling of it.”
His hips started swiveling in a slow circular motion, almost imperceptibly at first. Miss Scarple loosened her grip, letting the big shaft slide through her hand. Soon the two were working in concert, a slow hand-job playing out in the brightly lit room.
“I suppose these days this is pretty boring stuff, but wow!” Miss Scarple said quietly. “Are they always this…big?”
Young Mr. Becker moaned again, this time louder, with a large volume of air accompanying the lovely noise out of his mouth. Lovely is what Miss Scarple thought of the sound, a delicious moan that she herself was causing. It thrilled her. Her body tingled, but suddenly shock overtook her when she realized a finger on her free hand had slipped between the lips of her pussy. Did the two men in the room notice? It was quickly out, and so great was her shock that her entire hand moved away from her sex, revealing it for the first time.
The slow hand-job continued, Mr. Becker moaning more frequently, until he suddenly stopped her, his hand taking hers as he pulled his red-hot cock away, the young, inexperienced man just moments away from a gushing explosion of cum.
“I’m sorry, I…” he said, breathlessly.
“Mr. Becker, is there anything you’d like to say or do?” Mr. Black asked.
“Plenty!” Mr. Becker said with a quiet chuckle.
He looked at Miss Scarple with lust burning in his eyes. She returned the gaze, hoping the same invitation she’d seen in his eyes was visible in hers.
“I think we’ve been standing quite long enough,” Mr. Black said. “Shall we move to the couch?”
“Oh my!” Miss Scarple said as she neared the big windows. She quickly retreated from the huge expanse of glass. “Can they see us?”
She moved her aging body slowly toward the brown leather couch and sat as she looked out the window. A group of students were gathered around a teacher on the green grass below, listening intently as he read to them. Her focus was snapped away from the idyllic scene by the long, hard cock within her reach. It was a bizarre juxtaposition that struck her funny.
“My goodness!” she said with an amazed smile. “How long does it stay like that?”
“Miss Scarple, what are your instincts right now?” Mr. Black asked.
“To lay down, close my eyes, and hope for the best,” she said with a mischievous little smile.
Mr. Black nodded. Her heart pounded so loud she was sure it could be heard. Without much thought her legs came up, her body went down and her eyes closed. Her sagging tits reached a nice equilibrium when she was on her back, looking younger and fuller than before. Young Mr. Becker, wanting to repay the wonderful hand-job, dropped to his knees and put a hand on her belly. The touch startled her, but felt exquisite. It was warm and delicate, and goose bumps rose on her skin.
The hand was followed by another, landing even more softly, on her tit. There was no weight behind it—the feeling was almost like feathers—and a moan vibrated deep in Miss Scarple’s chest.
The delicate touch moved, fingers barely touching as they circled her nipple. With her eyes still closed, her mind spun a colorful spray of light and dark across her eyelids. The delicate fingers spread out, her tit engulfed in the young man’s hand, and then she felt it, the unmistakable warmth of a mouth, softly kissing her engorged, rubbery nipple. It was the first mouth she had ever felt on her body, and it lifted her to a new place.
“Oh my!” she said quietly, the splattery color on the inside of her eyelids starting to swirl.
Young Mr. Becker, not sure how far he should take things, looked at Mr. Black.
“Follow your instincts son,” the quietly booming voice said.
“Yes, please,” Miss Scarple said, her voice quivering a little.
The young man’s hand that had been resting softly on Miss Scarple’s belly güvenilir casino drifted south, grazing her wispy grey patch of hair before gliding onto her thigh. His fingers wrapped around the warm fleshiness of her leg before a change of course drew them closer to Miss Scarple’s heat.
Mr. Becker’s tongue swirled around the hard nipple as his mouth sucked it in, his hand squeezing the soft tit as his mouth opened, engulfing half of the squishy thing as Miss Scarple moaned. She could barely believe what was happening, but somehow, with her eyes closed, it all seem right. It was like a wonderful old dream that she stopped having twenty years ago.
The young man’s hand reached ground zero, a soft place that beckoned exploration. His enthusiasm had two fingers two knuckles deep before he could even think about it, but Miss Scarple didn’t mind. Eyes closed and smiling, she was drifting away into that old, almost forgotten dream.
He legs spread as the young man explored her insides. The feeling of being wide open, arms at her sides as a man ravished her was beyond anything she could have imagined. If it’s not too late, she thought to herself, I’ll be doing this again. Would anyone want to have sex with a seventy-three year-old, she wondered, outside of a science experiment?
“Oh God I hope so!” she said, answering her own question out loud without even realizing it.
“What do you hope, Miss Scarple?” Mr. Black asked.
“What?” she said, opening her eyes. “Oh…um…for more.”
Her eyes fluttered back to nearly closed, a sliver of white showing like there is when one is dreaming. Young Mr. Becker’s fingers, slipping through the wet softness of a pussy for the first time, picked up an instinctual rhythm, almost matching a heartbeat. He rose up higher on his knees so he could put his gentle sucking to work on both of the tits before him. As the neglected one went deep into his mouth the loudest moan yet reverberated into the big room, followed by another as the palm of his hand inadvertently pressed on Miss Scarple’s clit. Without knowing it, getting his hand in a new position so his fingers could go deeper had hit the jackpot, and the new sensations were breathtaking for Miss Scarple. Every step of the way she had thought it couldn’t get any better, but every step of the way it did.
“Oh my God!” she said through clenched teeth.
She let her hand fall off the couch and found the young man’s thigh. Searching higher, around the warmer, softer inside of it, she felt the heat of his cock before she even touched it. A much more animal moan ripped from her lungs when her fingers encircled his shaft, a connection which seemed to complete a circuit, letting a higher voltage flow. Her body was charged with the stuff, high voltage electricity that seemed for all the world to be altering the very chemistry of her.
The ‘I can’t believe this’ feeling was reaching new levels, to the point where her brain was flashing red like an out of order sign. Just go with it, she told herself during a rare, lucid moment, and she flew off again into the unknown.
Was this an orgasm, she wondered? How would she know, and did it really matter? What she did know was she had a growing, and soon all consuming desire to have the young man’s long cock deep inside her, instead of his two fingers. Would it even fit? She pondered the thought as her hand stroked it, squeezing the amazing thing as she tried to visualize every inch of it.
Her pre-orgasmic bliss grew to epic proportions as muscles throughout her torso that hadn’t done much in years tensed and released with a rippling, cascading mind of their own.
“In me,” she whispered. “In me.”
Young Mr. Becker was unsure of what she meant, so he kept up his tit sucking, pussy fingering assault.
“In me!” Miss Scarple said a little more forcefully “In me!”
The young man wondered, did she want him? His cock?
“In me! Oh god, put it in me!”
Yes, he thought, she wants me to fuck her! But what of Mr. Black? How could I do such a thing, in a class room, at my school, to Grandma the lunch lady for God’s sake!
The questions, truth be told were nothing but a tiny voice in the young mans head, drowned out by bigger voices fueled by the soft hand stroking his cock. He’d never been so hard in his life, the feeling making him wonder if the skin of his cock would split open from the pressure within.
His brain felt like it was about to split open too, and in fact he wondered if it had, because those nagging questions had spilled out and were nowhere to be seen.
“Put it in me for God’s sake!” Miss Scarple said, in a pleading, almost demanding voice.
Young Mr. Becker’s body moved into position over Miss Scarple, the two of them coming together in the classic missionary style, her legs already splayed out and her pussy moist. The tip of his long, banana shaped cock moved through her moist lips and seemed to find an opening, but he wasn’t sure. With gentle pressure he slipped inside. Satisfied he was in the right place, he pressed on, drawing a mesmerizing, extended moan from the woman beneath him. His own senses were on high alert, but soon they melted into a blur as nothing but his cock seemed to matter, sinking ever deeper into the most glorious of places.
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