Sculpting Mei-Lien Ch. 03

Three days later Mei-Lien arrived punctually for her next lesson. When she removed her coat, I saw that she was dressed as she had been for her last visit, only now she wore the rope belt which I had given her. Guiding her once more to the hall mirror, I took up my position behind her and placed my hands on her stomach.

Curious to know how she had found the last three days, I asked her whether she had had any problem adhering to her regimen.

Proudly she answered, "Although they have been sore, I have exercised my stomach muscles twice daily and am now able to do twelve sit-ups each time. Mostly, my belt causes me no problem, and I am now accustomed to its presence. My biggest problem comes from the constant tickling of my tummy by the brush which you asked me to insert under my panties. It is very distracting, especially when I have to sit for long periods as I do at work. My lower belly has become very sensitive and pink, even when I get up in the morning. However, by applying ointment as you suggested, I have prevented it from getting irritated and rather like the color it has become. Finally, although it is embarrassing for me to admit, all this attention to my body has kept me in a mild state of excitement which I enjoy but find difficult to bear."

The effect of her training were clearly evident in the image which I saw in the mirror. In addition, by palpating them with my fingers, I discovered that her abdominal muscles had already improved their tone and that she was learning to keep them firmer. After expressing my satisfaction with her progress, I told her that it would be no longer necessary to subject her to the sort of harsh treatment which I had used last time and that I would count on her to continue strengthening her muscles on her own. I had thought that she would be relieved by this news and was therefore surprised by the cloud which past over her face.

In order to reassure her that I would continue her training, I drew her body back against my own and said, "Mei-Lien, my dear, I have no intention of abandoning our program or of leaving my sculpture in an unfinished state. All that I meant is that the techniques which I will employ will be more refined, even though they will still make considerable demands on your body. Before introducing you to them, I need to know if you ever studied yoga. In particular, do you know how to take the lotus position and can you maintain it comfortably for a protracted period?"

"Yoga was a part of the curriculum in Chinese schools, starting in elementary schools and continuing through high school. Thus, I have spent many hours in a lotus position and am quite comfortable in one."

"Well then, today may represent something of a return to your childhood, since I have been hoping to give you your posture lesson while you are in that position, and I know now that I can. If you are ready to find out what I have in mind, please go into living room and assume a lotus position in the same place on the rug where your training took place last time. I will join you in a couple of minutes."

When I did join her, I found Mei-Lien seated crossed legged in the middle of the living room, the backs of her feet resting on her thighs, their bottoms turned upward, as were her hands. She appeared quite relaxed in this classic yoga pose, and I was struck by her poise and the ethereal beauty of her Asian features which were delineated by shadows in the late afternoon light. However, I was there to instruct and not just admire. As I had anticipated, this position highlighted her defects as well as her assets. Not only was her lower belly bulging out below the rope digging into her midriff, her shoulders and neck slouched forward in a way which partially hid her upper body, Thus, I knelt down by her side and, cupping my hand under her chin, lifted her head until her back was in a straight line above her pelvis and her breasts thrust out between her arms.

Leaning back to survey the changes I had wrought, I told Mei-Lien, "I want you to remain in that position for about half an hour. During that time, I want you to concentrate on the position of both your back and your stomach. Your spine should be a vertical column between your pelvis and head, which should be held so that your chin is in a line with your collarbone. Although your stomach should be tucked in, it should appear to be relaxed so that its feminine roundness is on display but firmly under your control. The aesthetic ideal for which you should strive is achieved by enhancing the contrast between the flat plane of your back and the rolling contours of the female assets on your front."

Earnest student that she was, Mei-Lien absorbed my words and did her best to follow my instructions. However, after about ten minutes, I could see that her concentration was beginning to flag and that was in need of some stimulation. Having assumed that this would be the case, during my brief absence, I had armed myself with, among other things, a hair brush. After asking her permission, I moved behind her to release her hair from the bun at the back of her head and let it cascade down her back. Then, taking the brush in one hand and using the fingers of my other hand as a comb, I ran the brush followed by my fingers through her hair in rhythmic strokes, starting at her scalp and ending at her rump on each pass. From the outset, it was clear that Mei-Lien was getting considerable sensual pleasure from what I was doing. With each stroke, her head tipped further backward, so that her hair was soon flowing in an unbroken curtain between me and her back, and, as I continued, she began breathing through her mouth, from which came soft sounds of contentment.

The brush had done its job, but its effect waned quickly. With fifteen minutes remaining before Mei-Lien's lesson was to end, I resorted to a bolder tactic. Taking her head between my hands and tipping it further back so that she was staring at the ceiling and her face was below mine, I said, "Mei-Lien, I am wondering whether you would allow me to bare your breasts. You have already permitted me to take great liberties with your body, but until now none of them has had explicit sexual connotations. Baring your breasts would give me great pleasure, but only if I knew that I was doing so with your unqualified consent. I won't pretend that my reason for wanting them bare is entirely pedagogic, although I believe that having your upper body completely exposed will add to the effectiveness of your training. In addition, having your breasts bare will make this an entirely different experience for you, one which will open the possibility of your receiving immediate, as opposed to indefinitely deferred, reward for your efforts. Do you agree?"

Looking down into her upturned face, I once again saw the furrows bunching over her brows in the way that they always do when she is deep in thought. It took her a couple of minutes to respond, but, when she did, the profundity of her words took me aback. "If I allow you to bare my breasts, our relationship will be entirely different. Until now you have been my teacher, even though some of the things you have been teaching me have sexual implications and have involved your making intimate contact with various parts of my body. However, a woman's breasts are not just another part of her body. They are one of her greatest and, at the same time, most vulnerable assets. Allowing you to bare them means that you are no longer just my teacher but are also my lover. Is that your understanding as well?"

The ball was now in my court, and I was not sure how to return it. A little over a week ago, I had thought of Mei-Lien as a charming student to whom I was teaching English. I am accustomed to guiding and molding the intellectual development of my students, and, even though I was sexually aroused bywhat I had done with her during her last visit, I thought of it in the same terms: she was still a tabla rasa on which I was writing, the difference being that I was now writing on her body as well as her mind. Only after her response, did I realize how much deeper than my own was my student's understanding of human emotions. She was not just a statue which I was molding, she was a full fledged woman who was not about to compromise her sense of propriety just for a casual fling.

After giving myself time to formulate my answer carefully, I told her, "Mei-Lien, you are a remarkable woman, one whom I am beginning to love. If it were not for the difference in our ages and backgrounds, becoming your lover would be a natural next step in our relationship. However, I am at least fifteen years older than you, and we grew up in entirely different, in a sense, diametrically opposite worlds. Under the circumstances, it would be dishonest of me to encourage you to think that ours is likely to evolve into a long term, lasting relationship which might end in marriage. Thus, if that is the sort of commitment you seeking, then I have to decline your offer to become your lover. On the other hand, if that is not what you were saying and instead you meant is that the change in our relationship to that of lovers would entail an emotional commitment very different from the usual one between a student and teacher, then I agree and welcome the concomitant responsible which that change would imply. Thus, I must ask you which of these interpretations is the one you want me to make, and in order to not rush you, I will leave you here for a few minutes so that you reach your decision in peace."

I left Mei-Lien, seated in her lotus position for five minutes, during which I tried to keep myself occupied with trivial tasks. I knew what I hoped her decision would be, but I was reconciled to accepting whatever it might be. Upon my return to the living, my answer was literally staring me in the face. Framed between her arms were Mei-Lien's naked breasts. Like those on the Cambodian statues which I had always admired in museums, Mei-Lien's breasts are perfect cones which ride high on her chest in a way which defies gravity. They are not large but are pleasingly ample and are capped with generous reddish brown areolae from which her nipples emerge as two cylindrical pegs that, when they are erect as they were, can be as much as half an inch long.

Overcome by a combination of admiration and gratitude, I stood transfixed before her. At last I pulled myself together sufficiently to say, "Mei-Lien, you are more lovely than I had imagined. Seated there as you are, bolt upright, with your hair flowing down your back, your front a symphony of gentle contours, and a serene, nearly beatific expression on your face, you take my breath away. It's a shame that your half hour is already up and that I will not be able to savor this image longer."

With obviously feigned annoyance in her voice, Mei-Lien protested, "I did not bare my breasts just to have you dismiss the class. I intend to remain as I am as long as it takes for you and my breasts to get thoroughly acquainted. You said that you wanted me to think of you as a sculptor who is putting the final touches on his statue. Well, there is more to your statue than just a tummy, and your statue thinks it is time for its sculptor to give a little attention to something other than its posture."

Her teasing tone did much to leaven the atmosphere, and I responded in kind. saying, "Your sculptor agrees so long as his statue understands that having her breasts molded does not relieve her of responsibility for her belly."

Seating myself directly in front of her, with my legs wrapped around her buttock and my heels resting against her rump, I reached forward and cradled her enticingly available breasts in my hands, cupping their undersides. I recalled from my teenage years the wondrous texture of my teenage girlfriends' breasts, but it had been many years since I had held in my hands breasts with the marvelous resilience of the ones resting in them now. Fascinated by their consistency, I could not resist the temptation to watch their response to displacement in various directions. With hardly a wobble, they returned to their original position, whether raised and dropped or pushed to the side.

Looking into Mei-Lien's eyes, I told her, "There is very little even Praxeteles could have done to improve these mammaries of yours. Their shape and texture are essentially perfect. Since you insist that I work them, I will try the only experiment which I can imagine might make them more appealing. Namely, I will see whether I can make your nipples grow. Your nipples are already erect, but it would be interesting to know if they can be made fuller. Would you like me to try?"

Mei-Lien agreed to participate in my experiment on the condition that I tell her who Praxeteles was. Pleased to learn that I was comparing hers to some of the most famous female busts in the classical world, she smiled and told me, "You are welcome to try, but my nipples are as hard as they have ever been, and I doubt if they can be made any larger."

Happy to oblige, I shifted my hands to the sides of her breasts and placed a thumb on the tip of each of her nipples. Like the pictures of many Asian women I had found while surfing the web, Mei-Lien's areolae and nipples were surprising large for a woman with breasts of modest size. In addition, the tips of her nipples were bisected by distinct creases, whose function, I assumed, was to facilitate the flow of milk during nursing. I had always wondered whether these anatomical features would make Asian women more susceptible to having their nipples teased, and I was glad to have been given the opportunity to find out. Exerting only enough pressure to keep the pads of my thumbs in contact with her nipples, I slowly rotated their distended stalks.

After several rotations, I could see that I was having a profound impact on Mei-Lien's equanimity if not the size of her nipples. Her initial response was to shut her eyes and emit a muted sigh. This was soon followed by her throwing back her head and rocking her torso from side to side. It was clear to me that the purpose of her rocking was not to remove her nipples from their torment but to find a release for the tension which that their torment was causing. Nonetheless, I reminded her that she was my statue and that, as such, her first obligation was to her sculptor and his craft, which her rocking was in danger of disrupting. Chastened by my warning, she resumed to her original pose and turned her attention to the progress of her nipples.

It took more than five minutes before any substantive progress was visible. As she had said, her nipples were fully erect before I began. Thus, the only apparent change initially was a gradual darkening of first the nipples themselves and then the surrounding areolae. However, much to our mutual satisfaction, when five minutes had elapsed, her nipples started to show a definite thickening and the narrow slits at their tips began to spread.

Intrigued, I asked her, "Do you like what is happening to your nipples?" When she made it clear that she did, I teasingly added, "I do too, but I am afraid that if I continue much longer your nipples will grow out of proportion with your breasts and ruin the aesthetics of my statue. On the other hand, their obvious athletic ability has given me ideas about their potential use in your training. However, I think that they have been exercised sufficiently for now and that it is time for me to give them and you a well deserved rest."

Rising to my feet, I reached down to grab her arms and helped her extract herself from the demanding position in which she had spent close to an hour. When she was standing upright in front of me in nothing but her shorts, her naked breasts pointing directly at me, and her nipples rampant, she made a delectable sight. Overcome with gratitude for the mutual pleasure we had received, we spontaneously closed the gap separating our bodies hugged one another in a tight embrace.

Feeling her yielding body locked against my own, I knew that we would soon have to confront the question of whether the time had come to consummate our rapidly evolving affair. I was myself conflicted. On the one hand, I was highly aroused by the little games we had been playing. On the other hand, I did not want to rush Mei-Lien and was not averse to the idea of prolonging this tantalizing period of our relationship decision together for quite a while. Thus, when we finally stepped back from one another, I once again assumed the role of a stern instructor.

Holding her by the upper arms so that she was stranding directly in front of me, I said, "Mei-Lien, your lesson for today is over. The only question is whether you go home like a good girl, now that class is dismissed, or whether you stay at school for extra-curricular activities, in which case, we have to decide what those activities will be. Because they are not part of the standard curriculum, the student should make these decisions, and so I will leave them up to you and put myself at yourself disposal."

Standing before me, wearing nothing but her shorts and with her pert breasts pointing straight at me, she cut an image which was simultaneously seductive and vulnerable, and I could feel a slight trembling in her body as I delivered my little lecture. Nonetheless, her inherent curiosity and courage were manifest in her response.

"Thanks to her teacher's skill, this student has learned today a lot about her body which she had not known, and for this she is most grateful. However, she is not ready tot ake her final exam, the one which she assumes will be eventually administered in her teachers bedroom. On the other hand, she can't very will leave for home in the excited state her lessons left her. Thus, if her teacher agrees, she would like to stay after school for some extra-curricular activities which will relieve some of the tension she feels and help to restore her equilibrium. For instance, as yet her teacher has not graded, or even thoroughly examined, her homework, and perhaps that is where we should begin."

Without waiting for my reply, Mei-Lien stepped back, lowered her shorts, and let them drop to the floor. After kicking them aside, she assumed a pose in which her lower belly was purposefully made the center of attention. Shoving aside the strands of hemp which had been continuously rubbing against her stomach, she drew my attention to the livid color of her skin, saying, "I thought that you should see for yourself what a toll on my poor tummy has my homework has exacted. As you can see, its surface is no longer the color of my ancestors and has become a deep pink. What you can't see is the incessant tickling which those strands of hemp have imposed upon it, not to mention the relentless girdle circling my waist and making me conscious of every breath I take. Only while you sculpting my nipples was I sufficiently distracted to ignore my tummy. If you think that I have earned a good grade, maybe you could reward me."

Impressed by her decisiveness and enchanted by her playfulness, I joined in her game and sank to my knees to grade her homework with the care she deserved. Running my hands over the bowl of her lower belly, I could feel warmth radiating from its pink surface and could imagine the discipline required of her to not relieve herself of the constant irritation which the hemp must have provoked. Looking up, I saw that she had reduced the length of the belt around her waist by more than an inch and that it was embedded at least a quarter inch into her flesh. Moved by her obvious dedication, I undid the knot holding her harness in place, gently peeled it away from the shallow groove it had dug into her waist, and let it join her shorts on the floor.

To indicate my approval, I grasped her buttock in my hands, pulled her forward until my nose was buried in her navel, and planted a kiss on the bulge just below. After rising to my feet, I led the now completely naked Mei-Lien back into the living room and asked her to arrange herself comfortably on the couch to receive her reward. Lying on her back and luxuriating among the pillows which she arranged to prop herself up, she resembled, in somewhat diminished dimensions, one of those seductive portraits by Ingres. What she lacked in dimensions she more than made up in vitality. With her long, absolutely straight, black hair draped over her shoulders and her intelligent bright eyes glowing with contentment, she was, without doubt, the most delightful adornment that my living room had ever had.