Talk about "cramming" ...

Paul was soberly impressed as Mrs. Hunter stood before him and steadily whipped off one article of clothing after another. Soon she stood in only her underthings, and Paul had to admit, not only had he imagined this, but this beat his imagination.

"Mrs. Hunter, I'm not sure I understand. I mean ... I was always taught that size doesn't matter."

Mrs. Hunter looked surprised, then covered her mouth to stifle a persistent laugh. "Aha ... ! Mmm ... ! Well ... we women don't want men to get upset, Paul, we've got to go along to get along. But the fact is ... a lot of girls are going to want you. You have very special equipment ... and you need very special training."

Paul was further impressed as Mrs. Hunter unsnapped her bra. Her naked breasts actually surged outward slightly, liberated from the falling bra. They were still quite high for a woman her age. "Mrs. Hunter, is this necessary?"

"Oh, God, yeah ... !" she replied, sinking to her knees before him. He gasped as she took his shaft deep into her cleavage, then impaled her warm wet mouth upon his fist-big glans.

Paul felt torn, torn, torn. This was getting awfully close to actual sex ... but there was no denying that it felt incredible ...