I recall that often at night, Mrs. Radlett would undress in front of Cecil and myself and as those magnificent breasts cascaded from their cramped confines, she would sigh with relief and gently massage them to restore lost circulation. If we had been good boys that day, our kind governess would allow us each to massage a breast for her. We enjoyed this small chore as did Mrs. Radlett, who whimpered with pleasure as we performed the task with vigour. She asked us to roll her stalky red titties on the palms of our hands and after a minute or so she would breathe more rapidly, squeeze her thighs together and emit a strange grunt and shudder all over in what to us was a rather alarming fashion. She would then thank Cecil and I for our labours, asking us to promise not to tell anyone of our little game. On one occasion I recall passing by Mrs. Radlett's bedroom and the door was slightly ajar. I peeped round and saw our governess naked on the bed, completely oblivious to the world, making those strange noises of pleasure she emitted whilst Cecil and I were rubbing her teats. But this time, she was engaged in self-gratification of her own. So massive were her titties that she had been able to place one erect nipple in her mouth and she was busy sucking it to great effect. This breast was supported by one hand whilst the other was plunged inside the hairy black bush of hair between her legs, and I looked on with interest as she plunged her fingers in and out of this mound. I watched, mesmerised by this act as again she squeezed her thighs and with a little scream, shuddered violently and then lay back exhausted, withdrawing her hand from her mossy growth, a hand that I noticed was strangely moist (had she wet herself, I wondered in my innocence) which she wiped across her great breasts, smearing them with what, of course, was her cunney juice.