Several weeks had passed since my next-door neighbor, the matronly and very religious Mrs. Packer had discovered me masturbating and, quoting much scriptural chapter and verse, provided what she called 'an appropriate vessel' to receive my seed. Her parting suggestion that the next time I needed to spill my seed I look for an 'appropriate vessel' was much on my mind.
Needless to say I wanted another crack - no pun intended - at her vessel. However, being a boy of only 18 and dreadfully shy around women I didn't know how to proceed. Every time I passed her house I looked for her and when I saw her I always bade her good morning or good evening or whatever time of day it was. She always responded non-commitedly although sometimes with a shy smile or nod of her head. This made my hopes rise, not to mention other parts of my anatomy.
Several more weeks passed by with me casting longing glances at Mrs. Packard and her smiling demurely in return. Then one afternoon when I returned home from school my mother said, "Mrs. Packer wants to you to come over and help her with something tomorrow after school."
"Did she say what it was?"
"Something to do with a vessel. She said you'd understand."
"Well, uh, uh, it probably has to do with one of those vats that she pickles cucumbers in," I said.
"That's probably it."
The next afternoon. instead of hanging out with my friends after school, I hurried to Mrs. Packer's house. I knocked on the door and she opened it.
"Come in, young man," she said, "have you been behaving yourself? Have you been saving your seed or have you been casting it on the ground like Onan?"
"Oh, no ma'am, I've been saving my seed for an appropriate vessel."
"And have you found a vessel?"
"Well, uh, uh, my mom said you mentioned something about a vessel and I figured you we're talking about, about..."
"About this?" she said and pulled up the bottom of her dress revealing her naked, hairy pussy in all it's verdant glory.
"Yes ma'am."
"And you've been saving your seed?"
"Oh yes ma'am."
"We'll see about that. Take off your clothes."
"Yes, ma'am."
While I undressed she did likewise and then led me into her bedroom.
"Lie down and let me examine you," she said.
I laid flat on my back and she sat beside me on the edge of the bed and touched my erect cock.
"He looks clean," she said, "but a good wash never hurts."
She went into the bathroom and returned shortly with soap, a wet wash cloth and a towel. She began to enthusiastically scrub my dick and I put a tentative hand upon her pussy.
"May I touch your vessel?"
"Oh, I suppose so," she said, "You know I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me. I am not a wanton woman and since that time in your house I have thought and prayed about this a good deal and I have decided that it is the Lord's will that I serve as a receptacle for your seed."
"Praise the Lord," I said.
"Don't be blasphemous, boy."
"No ma'am."
I had continued stroking her pussy while we talked and had re-discovered the little button that seemed to turn her on. Using the pungent juices that I had stirred up with my fingers I began to rub and stroke the little protuberance.
"Ah, I see you remembered," she said. "That feels good and it makes my vessel hungry for your seed. Do you like to touch my vessel?
"Yes ma'am."
"Would you like to fill it up with your seed?"