The Music Teacher Ch. 03

"Pete...I...I..." Her face was the reddest of reds.

"Oh come on!" My tone made it clear I had no time for these childish phobias of hers. Can you believe it, shy to get naked in front of a man!

"Okay, sorry," the modesty made room for embarrassment of her childish behavior and she pulled down the panties with one quick sweep.

What a wonderful Tuesday I thought as I inspected the neat triangular bush. The colour was the same as her hair, very dark, her intimacy hidden by it.

"Over there," I said and motioned to the cushions. She obeyed and shifted in a comfortable position, the cushions below her buttocks.

"Relax," I said as I gently positioned her legs into the missionary position; legs apart, knees drawn up. For the first time I could see her lips. The teeny piece of flesh slightly parted to reveal the pink moist folds underneath. I moved in between her legs and shifted my barber's equipment within arm's reach. I sprinkled some of the hot water over her bush.

"You might want to rub it in a bit, otherwise you might get a rash," I warned. I watched in awe as she massaged the moisture into her flesh. I added some more water then spurted some shaving cream from the canister on her vulva. She continued the rubbing and did a very thorough job.

"You missed a spot," I assisted to massage the imaginary spot next to her left labia. She ceased to breathe only continuing to do so after my hand left again.

"I think that should do it," I said finally and dipped the razor in the bowl of water. I focused my efforts at the top part of the bush first, shaving away the sides of the hair, leaving only a two inch strip that formed a bridge to her lips. I meticulously continued to shave her lips, stretching them out with my bare fingers, scrupulously removing the hair. She gasped as I delved into her inner lips, there was no hair there but I continued my search. I put down the razor and moved my hands to her chest. Her bra had a clip at the front, she didn't protest as I unhooked it, exposed her breasts. My palms softly cupped them, searching them inch by inch. Satisfied that she had no chest hair I moved down to her lower intimacy again. Her hips followed the motion of my finger as I explored the slippery inner lips, her maunder became audible as my search proceeded over her clit. I moved my finger down again. The entrance to her vagina also bear no signs of any hair, neither did the inside. I explored the wet walls, sent the assistance of my middle finger to join its partner. Her legs were now spasmodically moving up and down, the maundering changed to moaning. I decided that my penis would be a lot more sensitive than my fingers. Being a perfectionist, I wanted to use only the best tools of the trade and thus pulled down my school uniform's pants, the boxers in one skilled movement. I worked my legs and managed to get rid of the pile of clothes and shoes.

As I lowered my body onto hers she started to push me away. I was amazed at the strength in those thin little arms. I immediately gave way; if she didn't want this...well I had no urge to rape anyone. My body relaxed as those arms turned me on my back. Mrs. Simons was more than willing; she just wanted to be on top. I had the perfect view as she lowered her body to my erection. As if in slow-motion my penis disappeared inch by inch between the now shaven lips. Only when I was completely buried inside of her, did she start the rocking movement of her hips. I reached up and squeezed her breasts, my hands covering all of it. They were small but responsive, and the erection of her nipples massaged the insides of my palms. I moved my one arm up to her neck, drew her closer to me.

I advanced my kisses from her breasts to her mouth. I had three different women the last day and realized they all tasted different. No one better than the other, just different. She supported her body weight on her arms, now next to my shoulders. She lifted her hips and my penis became visible again. There was a sensational cool feeling as the breeze from open window evaporated her moisture from my shaft. She worked her hips, teased my tip through the entire length of her slit. She moved herself and my tip was at her entrance once again. She only lowered herself an inch, just burying the tip, the folds of her opening gripping like little tentacles at my nerve ends. It was unbearable and I thrusted my hips upwards to enter her; she was quicker and teased away. There was a taunting, naughty little smile on her face as she finally gave in. My penis plunged into the shelter of her endless tunnel once again; triggered my instantaneous orgasm. Her own body responded to my spasms, like a symbiotic creature attached to my spine she joined the cries of ecstasy.

***

I was tired, exhausted as I more or less sleepwalked home. The hand on my shoulder disturbed my dreams. I looked around and saw two familiar objects. Belinda Jones.

"Hi Pete, I heard you're going to do the music at the lingerie show. It's just great!" She had a high pitched voice and her tits wobbled as she spoke.

"Come," she dragged me by the arm, "I need your opinion on something."

***