Starved Beast. Part 19

I knew her, you see. She was not much older than me and we'd grown up together in the village and so I could take liberties that she wouldn't have permitted in anyone else, and therefore I knew that she wasn't a good, holy kind of nun.

She was too sensual, too material, too attached to this world. She was too interested in sex. Each time I came up from the lake she'd settle me down in the long grass and at her assistance, she's ask me what I'd seen, for how long and whether I'd played with my dick.

Then, she'd order me to take my cock from my pants and she'd study and observe it and she'd tell me to touch it, and I'd answer her thousands of questions, describing to her the things I'd witnessed, stroking myself throughout.

She'd question me about the size of the various women's breasts and their shape, the firmness of their asses, the amount of hair on their pussies. She'd tease me and it was obvious that she was doing it to excite me and because she wanted me to