Chapter 1

I had always been interested in the sciences during my schooling and at times I nurtured visions of myself as a great physicist, in the mould of Isaac Newton, Maxwell or Faraday. Of course I was interested in Biology but it seemed to be a branch of Science of more interest to the girls. I was somewhat surprised therefore, when one afternoon, just as I was pushing my bike to the school gates, Miss Griffith the Biology teacher stopped her mini and asked me if I would like to help her with some work she was doing.

She was studying for her doctorate, doing most of the work in her laboratory at home. She asked if I had some spare time and if I would like to earn some pocket money assisting her. I readily agreed and made arrangements to call her at home on the following Saturday morning. I began to wonder why she hadn’t asked one of her girl pupils as it would surely be of more interest to someone hoping to get good pass-marks in Biology.

She was, I suppose, your archetypal ‘schoolmistress’, tending towards plumpness, she wore no make up, steel-rimmed spectacles and dowdy, unfashionable clothes. The girls had in fact given her the rather cruel sobriquet ‘Grunge’.

Greeting me in a white lab coat at the appointed time, she ushered me through the large house to a very well equipped lab. somewhere on the first floor. A kettle was just coming to the boil over a Bunsen burner and I accepted some very welcome tea.

“Now then Richard” she said, eyeing me critically. “There is just one thing we have to be quite clear about —nothing that happens here is to be discussed with anyone— do you understand?”

I began to wonder what could be so secret about her work. What was she experimenting with? Germ warfare? I speculated. I promised not to tell a soul ... not even Reggie Carter, my best mate.

“Yes ma’am.”

“My research, on which my thesis will be based, is largely concerned with reproduction in the human species. In order to carry out some observations, I need male spermatozoa...”

Despite her seemingly cool demeanour, I detected a slightly husky note to her voice.

“That is where you come in.”

I sat in bemused silence, unable to think of anything meaningful to say. “Do you understand?” she asked abruptly.

“I er, think so...”

“You do masturbate, don’t you?” Her directness startled me somewhat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

“Sometimes...” I replied, momentarily unable to meet her eyes.

“Male sperm dies fairly quickly after leaving the penis ... I shall require as much as you can produce for microscopic study and timing the life span of the specimens.”

It was quite clear to me now as to why she had not recruited one of her girl pupils. I was being asked to masturbate to order! I was taking part in her own male, masturbatory time-table and getting paid for doing it. It sounds a bit ridiculous now but at that very point in time I wasn’t sure that I could. Of course like all, or almost all young males I had no difficulty in that department but this frumpish woman hardly seemed likely to excite me sexually. What a pity she wasn’t pretty in that sterile looking coat, I mused. My opinions were soon to be radically modified.

“Look,” she said, no doubt sensing some reluctance on my part, “There is no need to be shy or embarrassed about this - it is, after all just for scientific work.”

“Yes ... er ... I can see that!”

“Well let’s get started then,” she said commandingly.

Rising from her seat she crossed to a cabinet, extracted a box of surgical rubber gloves and proceeded to put a pair on. To this day I always get a surge of excitement when I watch a woman do that.

Following her instructions I went behind a screen and removed my trousers and underpants. Then, feeling rather sheepish, I stood before her. She sat on a lab stool, and glancing down, I was able to see the beginnings of her cleavage at the open neck of her white coat. She stared at my penis and after a few seconds I felt her hand gently gripping my testicles.

I could see that her bosom was rising and falling noticeably and I could see she had a fair pair of breasts. I wondered if she was wearing a bra as slowly my cock began to respond to her touch. Within seconds it had risen to complete erection and stood up swollen and purple headed.

“Oh my ... oh... ! yes!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure this lively organ will produce plenty!”

She continued caressing my balls as she reached for a shallow glass bowl about the size of a soup plate.

“Now,” she ordered. “Make yourself ejaculate.”

I rubbed my cock turning my head in an effort to see more of her tits. She held the glass bowl just in front of my cock. I often fantasize about that moment and wish I could re-capture the excitement of that very first sexual adventure with ‘Grunge’.

I couldn’t see her face but only the top of her head. I began to caress her luxuriant dark brown hair as my passion rose within me. I could hear faint gasps and mutterings but could not discern what she was saying. My cock felt red hot and my balls aching to release my load. Then, unable to resist the inevitable, a searing hot surge pulsed through my balls and exploded with some force onto the glass bowl inches from her face. Now, past the point of shyness or embarrassment I wanked furiously.

“Oh Jeez! Oh my! Ooohhh!” she gasped.

Holding her head I looked down to see her coat had mysteriously opened and I could see the superb full curves of her tits, her nipples still hidden from my view. My legs were trembling as hot spurts of cock cream shot from my throbbing cock.

Later in life I have been described by women as a heavy cummer but at that young age I had no idea if I shot more cream than any other male. The initial four or five spurts were followed by a momentary pause, then several short quick spurts, then a longer pause then the most exquisite pain as a great thick blob with the consistency of toothpaste splattered into the dish, then a series of slow oozing emissions ten, or maybe more, as my prick softened and I leaned trembling against the nearby table. I could clearly see tiny beads of perspiration on her upper lip as she looked up at me, wide eyed and incredulous.

“Oh!! Richard! That was superb!” she gasped.

As my misted vision cleared I looked down and could see the buttons on her lab coat were unfastened and I could see her plump knees and the rolled tops of her stockings just above. She made no attempt to refasten the buttons, or those at her bosom. As I recovered my composure it began to dawn on me that I had assumed too much. Hadn’t she effortlessly proved she was infinitely more attractive than I had previously judged? Suddenly she jumped to her feet.

“Quickly Richard, open a box of slides!” She pointed to several boxes next to the high powered microscope. “Now, smear some sperm thinly on the slides.”

I passed her the first slides as she perched on a high stool and peered intently into through the lens of the scope. Totally engrossed in her work she made rapid notes and referred to a stopwatch on the bench top. I moved around the bench pretending interest in several specimens in bottles of Formaldehyde.

Furtively but with growing boldness I studied her stocking tops, an inch or two of bare white thigh and the sheer, elasticated leggings of her old fashioned directoire pink knickers. She seemed oblivious of my presence, completely enthralled by the tadpoles swimming on the slides. I bent down to scratch my ankle and took a better view right up to the crotch of her drawers. She looked incredibly horny and I felt my cock begin to slowly thicken.

“They’re slowing down.” she muttered. “We must find some way of maintaining the temperature of the slides.”

She turned on the stool giving me a good view of her breasts as the coat gaped open. It struck me as bizarrely erotic to be there with this woman with my prick hanging down below my tee-shirt and in her plain view.

“If we put them in a container and then immerse the container in a bowl of warm water, I could monitor the temperature while you work.” I offered helpfully.

“That sounds like a good plan.” She smiled encouragingly and looked with interest at five inches of limp, glistening cock hanging below my tee- shirt. “Well, you certainly supplied a useful piece of Lab equipment there,” she said, staring with admiration.

“How long before we can prepare some more slides?” she asked. Looking up she realised I was feasting my eyes on her bosom, or at least as much as I could see.

“Oh, I see!” she said, with a hint of mischief in her voice, “needs some stimulation, does it??”

Slowly she unbuttoned her coat to waist level and staring intently at my member she pulled a generous tit into view. A dark red nipple stood out like a pencil end as she gently massaged the smooth white plumpness. My cock began to grow in rapid response.

“My my,” she exclaimed. “Just one look at a female boob and up he sits and takes notice!”

With that she eased the other into view and stood provocatively massaging and pointing them at me. In seconds my prick reached full and throbbing erection.

“My god, but you are a well hung young man,” she said approvingly, “We’d better get the temperature control set up.”

Together we assembled the container and bowl and an accurate thermometer. As we busied ourselves I continued enjoying flashes of her tits and her stocking tops. My knob bobbed around brazenly and she remarked one could hang an overcoat on it. We laughed at her suggestion. When all was in place she instructed me to sit on a stool.

Then she slowly removed the Lab coat and stood teasingly in front of me. Her tits were superb, just the right size and very slightly droopy indicating their weight and full ripeness. She proceeded then to give me an erotic display that is forever etched in my memory.

Was this the plain Jane school mistress that seemed to be completely sexless in her other manifestation? There are times when the ordinary, the understated, the mundane are more stimulating than the overtly obvious attempts to seduce our minds. To see her in practical plain brown brogues, tan lisle stockings rolled to just above her knees and. the pink satiny directoire knickers, bare breasted, hair pinned primly up in almost Edwardian fashion, was erotic in the extreme. The breadth of her hips and the fullness of her buttocks were accentuated by the sheen of her knickers. Her tits swayed and bounced in the most intensely horny fashion. I gazed entranced and she, all inhibitions apparently abandoned, enjoyed the obvious effect she was having on me.

I began to play with my cock again and although I knew it would take longer for me to cum a second time, more spunk for her slides would be hers for the asking, or perhaps I should say, the wanking?

She handed me the glass bowl and moved another stool behind mine. I watched her movements in a large mirror fixed to the wall. From behind she removed my ‘T’ shirt and sat down on the stool.

Spreading her legs wide she moved close to me and I was conscious of her gently moving her nipples against the skin of my back. I’m sure my prick grew another half inch as she gently caressed my stomach and then pressed her warm flesh close to mine.

“Can you spunk for me again?” she whispered, her hot breath against my naked shoulder. With my right hand I began stroking my shaft as she watched intently our reflection in the mirror. Her hair had loosened from the pins and it now tumbled in disarray about her shoulders. She had discarded her glasses and I began to realise she was really quite attractive. Originally I had thought her age to be in excess of 40, now I would estimate she was no more than 27 or 28.

I moved my left hand down and began exploring her stocking tops and the naked flesh of her thigh. My young and inexperienced brain was swimming with excitement at the rich meal of feminine charms I was indulging. Beautiful, hot, spongy flesh against my back, plump warm thighs and silky be-knickered legs beneath my fingers and her hands exploring my tingling flesh. Yet for all that I discovered, I wanted more. I wondered if I would get to see her totally naked ... and ... I hardly dared entertain the thought that she might allow me to thrust my cock into her hot flesh. She fondled my balls and kissed my shoulders between uttering encouragement to me to release my cream.

“Oooooh! You young stud ... shoot your thick spunky cock juice for me ... ooooh your cock is superb ... empty your balls ... come on ... let it all go...”

It took all my bewildered concentration to hold the bowl at the right angle as my juice came spurting forth in strong bursts. Pushing my hand aside she gripped my prick and continued pumping my flow into the bowl. I leaned back against her my eyes shut in ecstasy.

“Oh! fuck, oh! Fuck!” she exclaimed. Hearing her swear like that, so out of character, just increased the eroticism of the moment. “Oh shoot your fucking cock juice for me ... come on ... more, more, more.”

I could feel her body trembling slightly as she whispered incoherent comments and gently squeezed the last drips of cream through my lengthening foreskin. She shuddered noticeably and moved quickly back from me.

“To work, to work,” she commanded and again we prepared slides and still dressed only in her knickers, stockings and shoes she began examining the specimens.

It was quite warm in the room and I enjoyed being naked in her presence. As I played around with the kettle pouring small quantities of water into the outer bowl and checking the thermometer I kept sneaking glances at her delightful body. On a couple of occasions she noticed my interested gaze and smiled knowingly. I also observed she took every opportunity to look at my now flaccid prick.

Eventually she stopped work and sat upright pushing her chest out as though to ease an aching back. Her tits looked superb and unable to resist temptation I moved behind her and cupped the gorgeous trembling orbs in my hands. “Now you’re being cheeky,” she said, without rancor. I felt her nipples harden as I gently squeezed her silky flesh. I pressed my groin against the silky pink knickers and even against my best expectations I felt the faintest of response in my prick.

“That’s very nice,” she said, “but I think we both need a break.”

Gently she pried my hands away from her breasts and stood up. Then, as she slipped into the lab coat I noticed in her reflected image in the mirror and saw a distinctly damp patch around the crotch of her knickers. We dressed and went through into a kitchen where Grunge grilled some sirloin steak which we devoured with crisps and some green salad. I was surprised to see the wall clock showed the time to be 2.30 p.m. We chatted about many topics as we munched our food and I have to say the steak was delicious.