Chapter 4

Mrs. Goody, who had founded and named the school which Jody and Susie attended, lived, retired, in a little house on the edge of the campus, a stone's throw from the woodshed.

Jody had never paid too much attention to it before. She and Manny passed it on their way to their frequent screwing sessions in the woodshed, where Jody had learned so much about the human anatomy.

On this particular occasion, she was passing alone to meet Manny and she saw a car pull up to the little house at the edge of the wooded area. Mrs. Goody got out with a bag of groceries and motioned the driver away.

There was something about the way Mrs. Goody moved, even at this distance, that roused Jody's attention. It was the brisk way she moved her stiff figure, that caused Jody to feel that maybe she could learn something from the retired, former headmistress.

She looked ahead, on this Saturday afternoon, to see if Manny had beat her as usual. He hadn't. She walked the few yards further to the woodshed and poked her face at the cobwebbed window.

It was dark inside. There was no trace of movement, no trace of Manny.

Jody decided to while away some of her spare time, while she waited for Manny, in spying on Mrs. Goody.

She had to be careful, though. She didn't want Mrs. Goody to get the wrong idea. She was there merely to pick up a little harmless information, an innocuous enough goal.

But of course, it was, in a sense, trespassing. She tiptoed quietly along the path, and as she neared the house, snuck along from tree to tree. A meager amount of snow had fallen and covered the path and the ground alongside it. Finally she was at the last tree before sneaking to the window through which she thought sure she could get a good look at Mrs. Goody. She pressed close to the side of the house, letting only her nose and eyes pass beyond the edge of the window.

It happened to be the kitchen she was looking into. She pulled back, just as she saw Mrs. Goody pull her head out of the refrigerator. She had put all her groceries away, except for a package of celery stalks sitting on the kitchen table.

Jody's curiosity was at once sparked. Could it be that Mrs. Goody was making a celery stew? Or could it be something else she was making, namely herself.

Mrs. Goody picked up the bag of celery and headed through the door into the next room.

Jody had to slide along to the next window to keep up with her. The next window let in on the livingroom.

But Mrs. Goody didn't remain long here either. She merely passed through it on the way to the next room.

This time, Jody had to circle one quarter of the house, to find the next window, the window that let in on Mrs. Goody's bedroom. And just as she came up to it, the draw drape snapped shut in front of her nose.

Luckily, Jody found a hole where the drape didn't quite meet the edge of the window. It was through this crack that she peeped and witnessed the most interesting actions which, if known to the student body in general, would provide them all with gossip enough to last several weeks.

Mrs. Goody had sat down and spread-eagled on her bed. It was a large and comfortable double bed, with a chenille bedspread on top.

Jody's eyes bugged out of her head. Mrs. Goody was pushing up her skirt and latching on to her long johns, those flannel panties that extended nearly the length of her slip.

There must have been a slit in them, like in men's long johns, because she saw Mrs. Goody's whole fist disappear up it. The bag of celery lay alongside her on the bed.

At the same time, the other of Mrs. Goody's expert hands, that must have many times been used to smack children's hands that had caressed wrong parts of their anatomy, now went up to caress parts of her own.

Jody saw her pull her cardigan sweater open, button by button, and expose her whole chest. It was covered by the top part of a cotton slip and, beneath that was a pink bra.

Off came the skirt, and then the bra, too, was loosened. It didn't come off, but merely was pulled up above her tits.

Those tits! Jody had seen nothing like them. They were huge and loose. They fell, as the breasts of old women are wont to do, clear down to her waistline.

And Jody saw her take first one, and then the other tit in her hand and massage it. She saw Mrs. Goody's old, aged head go back against the pillow her whole body was propped against, against the headboard.

Her face, in ecstasy, looked ten years. younger. Jody judged her actual age to be around seventy. So even old people do it! She was amazed, Jody was. There was so much to learn in her life.

Jody wanted to learn everything. If she spied enough, she probably would, it looked like.

Meanwhile, she would learn all she could from Mrs. Goody, who was giving a free lesson in human masturbation before her eyes.

Jody had to congratulate herself on her astuteness. She had fingered a book on body language in the bookstore and she picked up enough information to be of use to her. She had picked up enough vibrations from Mrs. Goody's bouncy walk to know that she, Mrs. Goody, was up to some hanky-panky.

She watched the old, lined hands grasp at her hanging tits and massage the nipples. Her face had the look of an angel on it. Her eyes, cracked around with lines; were half closed.

First one huge tit was palmed. Jody saw the fingers, bent with arthritis, touch the nipples, still healthy looking and brown. Then, Jody saw the amazing.

Mrs. Goody's tit was so large, that she managed to cup it and bring it halfway up to her mouth.

Then her face went down, and she was actually able to suck her own tit. It was awkward, however, and she could not do it for long. Then she stuck her red tongue out of her mouth as far as she could, and licked all over first one nipple, and then the other.

Jody's eyes were bugging out. She wished she could reach through the glass storm windows and move the curtain back further, so she could see better.

As it was, she was forced to squint, one eye at a time, through the curtains.

But she got to see lots as it was.

The best was yet to come.

Jody watched as her hand went down between her legs and pulled her skirt all the way up now, and pushed her long johns way down to her loins. Over the elastic of the waistband, Jody could glimpse a great gray bush, or rather the upper extremes of it.

It was the beginnings of the large expanse of her forest of pubic hair. Mrs. Goody was looking down her long johns now and chuckling, obviously enjoying the sight and feel of what lurked beneath it.

Her hands and arthritic fingers set up a rubbing motion deep in her panties. Jody longed to see. She wished Mrs. Goody would pull her long johns down the rest of the way.

But it was probably cold in her bedroom. At her age, she wouldn't want to catch cold. It could be the end.

She, Jody, was thinking maybe Mrs. Goody could come and speak at Susie's future masturbation course. There could be a unit on masturbation for senior citizens.

Of course, Mrs. Goody would do nothing of the sort. Jody wished she'd brought her camera. A picture or two would have been interesting fodder for future discussions between her and Susie on female masturbation.

She saw Mrs. Goody pant and moan soundlessly through the closed window, as she rubbed her clitoris again and again. She spread her soft white thighs on the bed and fingered her tits again simultaneously. She rubbed her hairy underarms and sucked on her arthritic fingers. She jabbed her fingers up her cunt. At least, that was what Jody supposed she was doing.

Then, surprise of surprises, Jody saw Mrs. Goody, the former headmistress and founder of Mrs. Goody's School of Girls, stick a finger up her back puckered hole.

Jody was hysterical. She just couldn't believe it. And she could view this because Mrs. Goody was pulling her longjohns all the way down to her knees, after all.

Now her whole hairy pussy was exposed on the big, chenille covered bed. Her white hair, cut short and curly around her lined face, was bobbing up and down on her head, with every move of her finger on her pussy.

Her face seemed to look towards the window, and Jody ducked quickly. It made her, Jody, remember that Manny was coming and perhaps already at the woodshed. It brought her back to reality, and though she didn't want to leave this scene that was providing the scoop of the semester, she knew Manny would be able to appreciate it.

She looked back towards the woodshed. The door to it was on the other side the tiny building about one hundred yards away.

Jody started to whistle softly, but She realized that Mrs. Goody would probably hear her before Manny would.

Then she got the idea to throw a snowball in the direction that Manny might be watching. She couldn't hope to reach the front door of the shed, itself, but if she could catch his attention, that would suffice.

So she kept on scooping snow up, meager as it was, and forming small snowballs that she heaved with all her thirteen- year-old might towards the path that led back to the campus.

In a minute she saw Manny's head peep around the side of the building. She waved frantically for him to come this way.

Then, when he got close enough to see her, she lay a finger across her mouth and motioned for him to be silent.

Manny tiptoed along the path, crunchy with snow, and got within talking distance. When he was about to open his mouth and greet her, she again motioned him to be quiet and he came up to her.

He kissed her in greeting but Jody was too excited and pulled away, stepping aside from her perch so Manny could see the scene that she had seen.

And Manny saw it. He saw Mrs. Goody, famous retiree of his sister school, with her pants down and her bra up, on her double four-poster bed, jacking herself off.

Manny was beside himself with laughter. He couldn't help it. Here was the most conservative, supposedly, member of the school community, getting off on her own flesh. It was too much!

He watched more closely. She had two fingers up her widened, old cunt hole and jabbed into it again and again.

He saw her make the moans of pleasure, although he could not really hear her.

She widened her thighs and he saw the incredible mass of her hairy gray cunt. It was a wonderful. She rocked back and forth and up and down on the bed. First she used her fingers, first this way and then that.

Then Jody pushed her way back into the little slit of space and saw finally what the bag of celery was for.

It was not for crunching on. It was not for stuffing with peanut butter. It was not for stuffing at all, unless you imagine it to be for stuffing up her vagina.

In which case you would be right. She broke the seal on the bag and opened the top. She pulled out the whole hunk of celery and broke a nice, green healthy looking stalk off, with plenty of leaves at the top.

Without even bothering to wash off the stalk, certain to be a bit grimy, from all the celery Jody had seen her mother clean, at least, Mrs. Goody plunged the tip of the stalk straight up her hole.

Then even they heard her groan. It was a faint groan, but a groan all right. That's how loud it was. It penetrated even the window.

She rotated the stalk around and around her cunt. "Ohhhhhh," they saw her moan, as she plunged the stalk in and out of her twat.

Then she turned the stalk around and actually used it like a feather duster, brushing the lush looking greens over her hairy gray cunt and arousing her clit into excitement once more.

Manny and Jody nearly exclaimed aloud. They were so amazed and so enchanted with the sight.

Jody mimicked the stick of celery up her cunt and made bumps and grinds, as she stood in the snow, feigning the stalk of celery in her hand.

Manny laughed silently. He would do nothing to terminate this incredible view of Mrs. Goody. It was a voyeur's delight.

"How long do you think she's been doing this?" whispered Manny.

"Shhhh!" said Jody.

Mrs. Goody seemed to look up just then and towards the window. But she couldn't possibly have seen them. They were well concealed behind the folds of the curtain, having pulled back just in time. No doubt she had just heard a strange sound.

The sound of giggling teens, to be sure, but an undefinable sound, as she entered her aged throes of orgasm.

They watched her thrust the celery stalk in and out, in and out, and arouse Mrs. Goodie to the point of no return.

She began writhing around on the bed, as if this were her last stalk of celery ever.

She broke another stalk off then and kept titillating her clit with the feathery greens, while she continued fucking herself with the stalk of the other.

It was truly an amazing sight.

Jody was glad that on that Saturday, she and Manny had planned their rendezvous as usual at the old woodshed. They had gotten much in return.

They figured there wasn't much more to watch. They continued to look at the old lady get her rocks off on the celery.

Jody wondered if then she ate it afterwards. She didn't have long to wait to find out.

Mrs. Goody didn't even bother going to the kitchen and washing off the cunt juice. She merely put the stalks to her mouth, one by one, and ate them, seeming to relish in their garnish of erotic juices and groin sweat.

Jody and Manny nearly sank to the white ground in fits of hysterical laughter.

The show was surely over then. Just to make sure, they eyed the slit in the curtain once more.