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nothing like the way the headmistress kissed me.

I had no idea what to do. I had no idea what to do when she kissed me with her tongue. It got more confusing when she put her hand on my breast.

The school was good about explaining to us girls about the physical changes in our bodies through puberty. There was no instruction about hormonal changes; no instruction about sexual desire. Although to be honest, we passed around romance novels, but they never got much passed the kissing stage.

They never said anything about what the Countess was doing.

I didn't resist. I didn't do anything. Well, I was shaking. "Miss Jorgenson, everything will be fine. If you were with a boy right now, this is what he would be doing and you'd likely let him and enjoy it. Let me enjoy you."

She unbuttoned the top of my dress. "Miss Jorgenson, you are a very attractive young woman. That's why I invited you here."

Countess von Pfeiffer was feeling my breast through my bra. To be honest, I did enjoy the feeling. A feeling, I'd never had before. Like I said, I was confused.

I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you about me. In addition to academics, Madam von Pfeiffer's stressed physical fitness. As she said, "a strong body will give you the strength to endure child birth." I was tall for the times; just over 5'6" with long legs.

Since Madam von Pfeiffer was feeling my breasts, you probably want to know about them. Today, I wear a 36DD, but back then probably a 34CC. Like most women, as I aged, I gained some weight. Not just in my breasts but in my ass as well,

Given my Swedish ancestry, no surprise I'm blonde. In fact, my hair was almost the same color as the wheatfields on our farm.

Anyhow, a few minutes later, "Miss Jorgenson, I can enjoy you more if you take this off. Let me help you." She was talking about my bra.

She certainly did. Enjoy me more that is, and to be honest I did, too. I was feeling things I never felt before. "Miss Jorgenson, you have the most beautiful breasts. Thank you for allowing me to become familiar with them."

I think the word ‘allowing" was a stretch. I didn't stop her, but I don't think I did anything to encourage her either.

Then she leaned forward and kissed one, then the other. "When you marry, Miss Jorgenson, your breasts will make your husband very happy. They make me very happy. I've never seen more beautiful breasts."

I blushed.

"Speaking of a husband, you will find that men call your beautiful breasts, tits or titties. It may be inappropriate for ladies like us, but I find it acceptable when engaged in a romantic encounter to use the word titties. Miss Jorgenson, ‘you have the most beautiful titties."

If I could have got any redder . . . and she said romantic encounter. This was nothing like the romantic encounters in those romance novels I read.

You may think I was stupid, but when I thought about getting married, I didn't think about the sex part. Stupid, naïve, whatever, I think part of it was the period I grew up in. Sex wasn't talked about. Madam von Pfeiffer wasn't talking about sex; she was engaging me in sex.

Her kisses; her tongue kisses and her hands all over my breasts made them feel so good. Like I said, like never before.

If that had been the end, I would have gone to my room smiling. I had breasts that my husband would enjoy. The Countess said so.

The reality was that was only the beginning. "Miss Jorgenson, I know how good it makes you feel to have your breasts touched and kissed. Would you like to make me feel like that?"

I was shocked, stunned. More shocking, Madam didn't wait for my answer. She unbuttoned the top of her dress, unhooked her bra, took my hand and guided it to her breasts.

Of course, when I bathed, I washed my breasts, but never touched them like the headmistress touched mine. Now, she wanted me to touch her breasts the same way.

I did and I heard her sigh. My hands and fingers explored her breasts and nipples. I liked the feeling; I liked the way I made her feel. Countess von Pfeiffer was almost seventy-years-old. Her breasts were much larger than mine; unlike mine, hers were soft and sagged. I mean when I looked at mine in the mirror, my nipples were pointing right at me. Madam's pointed toward the floor.

At the same time, she was using her fingers on my now erect nipples. That was new. I moaned uncontrollably.

"Miss Jorgenson, you are lovely. Your breasts are lovely. I'd love to know you even better, but I think we've had enough for today. If you'd like to continue, just knock on my door; you do not need an appointment."

TO BE CONTINUED

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