education of penelope

PENELOPE’S AWAKENING

A Fictional Saga Of An Allegorical Young Woman Who Did Learn And Earn Her Wings To Satisfy Herself And Her Own Daddy With The Thrill Of Womanhood.  Yay!  Peace On Earth As It Is In Heaven.  She Led Her Mommy And Her Daddy To Epitomes Of Satisfying Interchanges, Eh?  There Is Enough To Be An Oratorio Or Madrigal Or Fairy Tale.  A Poet Laureate Is In Here, Too.  And, Jezebel And All The Belles Get Wrung And Rung!

By Izzy Ess de la Grande Finesse

“Sailor Stuart sailed the seven seas in search of sassafras.  He told his tailor he was terrified of tarantellas which were tantamount to tether ball.  Instead of balking at a bull in barracuda sauce, he ate it all and barfed far better than a batter in a ballgame.  Penelope, his Princess Precious played a piccolo precisely at the pinnacle of Presbyopia and precipitated passion with a poisoned pen.  Alternatively, Arthur argued that an acre of some apple orchards was akin to asinine Assiniboine’s assisting Aristotle in an Aspen, Arizona full arena of Americans and Africans.  Au contraire, a cone of curried catfish catapulted cannon balls in cuspidors.  Gregorian giants gratified gigantic gaunt gorillas ganging up on gastronomical gum trees in Galliano grottos.  Mini-skirts did minimally make the maidens masquerade as milkmaids in Mantilla, in New Mexico, on mezzanines, with monster machinations.”

The poet laureate of Xanadu was typing thoughtlessly upon his old worn processor of words, an old reliable McRae, when he did realize his eyes were heavy.  He let his tiredness take over and he fell asleep.  He dreamt of Jezebel, his former girlfriend, who had dazzled him with her great body and enticed him to indulge in kinky sex for forty days and forty nights.  He awoke with a big woody and an urge to masturbate, but suddenly, Penelope appeared and helped him out by taking off her pantyhose and sitting on his woody.  The poet let his huge erection slip into his Penny’s honeypot which lubricated wildly and made it easy for her to move up and down and get Professor Woody Wilson, poet laureate of Xanadu, to get his woody deep inside of Penny and enjoy the great explosion that occurred.  Penelope had faked her pleasure with some moaning and some grunting, so Professor Woody didn’t know that she was only faking.

Penny had some sexual inhibitions which prevented her from having orgasms.  She found it easier to fake it with her new companion since his ego was so fragile.  She was only seventeen and had only lost her physical virginity with Professor Woody and he was just the first man she had laid.  Woody was her first because she had attended an all-girl Catholic High School and was expected to be entering a Convent-Nunnery right after graduation.  Her decision to attend Yale University surprised herself and her whole family.  She’d felt an urge to try out guys before she married Jesus and The Holy Ghost, The Holy Host and The Angel Messenger, with Our Creators DNA.  So, she entered Yale’s quite famous English and Communicational Department, in which Professor Woody Wilson was Assistant Head and Research Director.  She liked his lectures and his sexual demeanor and she offered him her derriere and he accepted gladly after he had broken up with Jezebel, the kinky kind of temptress some other men would really die for, eh?

Penelope admittedly was inexperienced.  Her first attempt at taking in Professor Woody’s woody was strange, but strangely thrilling, in stranger ways that she had ever dreamed.  She recognized that she was virginal in every way, including physicality, mentality and spirituality, but she was quite courageous in a special way.  As a youngster, she had witnessed her own dad with an enormous weapon, skewer her own mom with grunting moaning and explosive thrills but had felt a fear of being torn apart by such a weapon and she had a deep and lasting fear of being laid.  She wanted desperately to engage her dad in intercourse, but did not approach her in a sexy way.  He did expose himself to her as part of being in the same household and being naked on occasion and on occasion showing an enormous tool with which to diddle her own mom who seemed to like it.  But, she guessed that her own mom just faked the moaning and the grunting and the thrill of an explosion deep inside of her.

When our Penelope was pubertal, her dad came in one evening to her bedroom and he did lay beside her naked and did fondle her.  He was quite gently and he tongued her private parts when she did fake her sleeping.  He also stuck his woody in her anus and he pushed it in a little and it felt quite nice, but strange.  Her dad did get extremely large and then exploded.  She did imitate her mom and moaned and grunted in her sleep and jerked a little to let her dad know she was thrilled.  He dad left quietly and did repeat this every week or so for several months before he died.  Her mom did indicate that it was fine that she had done these deeds for her own father, for her mom was tired of faking it and had indicated that her daughter was available for sex.  Penelope was somewhat angry at her mom for shucking off her duties onto her but she was glad to help her depressed and tired mom.  She did like her dad and enormous tool, but was afraid of being torn apart.  When she saw that he was gentle and considerate, she lost her fear to some extent and wondered what the full experience of sex would bring and if she would in fact explode and have some thrill in it.

Penelope did rent some rated movies to just watch alone and wonder at.  She wondered at the casualness that the actors seemed to have about just getting laid and having thrills galore but she guessed it was just acting and not the genuine experience of love and lust and sex.  She was just tempted to make a purchase of some rubber penises, with batteries, but had no confidence to do it, and she didn’t.  She also had no confidence about fingering herself and also didn’t do it, eh?  She felt she had a chance with Woody.  He was gentle, like her father, but didn’t understand her fears and trepidations and she didn’t want to bore him with her feelings and her gross uncertainty.  Her Woody’s woody was quite as large as her own dad’s, she realized, and she also guessed that size was not the issue.

So, here she was at seventeen, and almost eighteen, quite uncertain about everything about her sexuality.  She read some books but did get the frank discussions of the Master’s and the Johnson’s clinical discussions and descriptions.  Penny was also quite aware she was perhaps too introspective to relax, but relax was something she had never learned to do for anything.  She moved in with Professor Woody thinking “it” would happen “naturally” but it wasn’t happening.  She wondered frequently if she had made a big mistake about her big decision to enrol at Yale and not to go to a big Convent-Nunnery and just be done with it.  She prayed to God for guidance but she didn’t get it.  She felt more sympathetic with her mother but she was uncertain about everything including the morality of faking.  She felt guilty and she felt some sort of punishment was coming to her from the Upper Firmaments.

A lot of nothing new had happened for a year with Woody.  She was an A+ student and received high marks from her Professor-Lover, and felt guilty all the while that the high marks were nothing she deserved, despite the straight A+ rating she received from everyone.  She told her own Professor Woody that she was quite happy he was satisfied, when in actuality she felt that she was just using him, unfairly.  She had been getting some lewd offers from some other teachers and some males who were in her classes.  She turned them down with tact and felt a fear that all of them would “find her out” and so resisted all temptations, easily.

“An aardvark fell in love with seventeen

Bold jellyfishes and he died before

He had a chance to consummate his love!

In January, February and

In March, Penelope adored her Jon

Who had already donned his Christmas clothes

And all his women’s pantyhose for those

Precocious elves who did remove their bows

Whenever Tinkerbelle did flit about

And yank the chains of candy canes and Danes

With large equipment for those beauties who

Did blue and purple with a gerbil, eh?

A salamander did meander here

To eat some sandwiches and drink some beer.”

The poet laureate of Xanadu was typing thoughtlessly upon his old worn processor of words, an old reliable McRae, when he did realize his eyes were heavy.  He let his tiredness take over and he fell asleep.  He dreamt of Jezebel, his former girlfriend, who had dazzled him with her great body and enticed him to indulge in kinky sex for forty days and forty nights.  He awoke with a big woody and an urge to masturbate, but suddenly, Penelope appeared and helped him out by taking off her pantyhose and sitting on his woody.  Jezebel appeared and started laughing and she yanked Penelope right off her poet and she started screwing him deliberately.  Penelope just watched as she enjoyed herself, tremendously and Woody did explode with ecstasy and kinky sex ensued for two full hours of big explosions and big deposits of that salty semen which she loved to swallow, eh?  Penelope did find that she was lubricating furiously and did grab a hold of Jezebel and yanked her off her poet laureate before he did explode again.  She pumped and pumped and she experienced the first of many climaxes in her whole life.  Jezebel just masturbated in full view of the Professor and he did explode again, and so did Penny, eh?

Ms. Jezebel invited Tinkerbelle and Annabel to join her in a ring of witch’s dances so designed to curse poor Penny and to get her off the bucking horse that Woody had become.  Penelope was quite prepared and held her silver cross on high and banished all the Evil Belles that were so wildly dancing in the night.  Penelope inspired the spirit of her mother to appear and have the first of many hundred climaxes that she had never had before.  Woody was half scared to death and fainted dead away.  Penelope and her dear mother’s spirit continue their explosions while they pumped together on the Woody woody even when he was unconscious, eh?

“The best laid schemes of mice and men are fey

Compared to Princess Penny and her mother Mae.

In spring a young men’s thoughts are kinky, eh?

Behold the Phoenix laying Sante Fe!

When Santa Claus remembers it’s but May

He roasts his Rudolf in a bale of hay.

The mice in Xanadu and Mandalay.

The coronary arteries grow grey

Unless Our Holy Father does a play.

The ships that sail upon the Hudson’s Bay

Are sunk unless auld lang gang oft agley!

Suppose Kris Kringle in some rapid trey

Traverses Canterbury Southern Way

Deliberately with some Fishes Cray!”

Penelope was still on Woody’s woody pumping furiously with her mother’s spirit ready to take over if she tired.  In fact, our Penny had the endless energy to continue just exploding every minute with some pent up feelings that finally emerged.  She fought off Jezebel, again, by grabbing her big tail and yanking off her breasts and nipples to consume with relish and some kippers in that spicy sauce that has some Spanish Fly.

Penelope was eighty when she died and she died just smiling and ascending up to Heaven.  She met her happy Angel Mother and she danced excitedly away, Eternally.  And, there was daddy, Nephalim, with his big mighty manhood flaming twirling God-like Sword.  Surprise, my daddy dear!  I’m here to be your pumping Cherubim.  Get ready daddy!  I have learned and earned my great explosions in my soul.  I also taught your wife the spirit of the great big bang.  So, be prepared, we’re going to bang you to Eternity!

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH!

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

November 28, 2013

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