Note: Hey fellow readers! I know I haven't written anything in a really long time. I've just been so caught up with some work and personal stuff that I hadn't been able to write much at all. But I really appreciate those who wrote back to me about my first story. It means more than you can imagine! Some of you even sent in plotlines, which brings me to this. Thank you to *the person who wishes to stay anonymous* for this idea. Feel free to let me know what you think about it and if there's anything I can do to make my work better :)
Love,
butterflyflutterby
Senior year had finally come upon me. I wasn't the same little freshman girl who only cared about her grades. I'd learned to live a little and had my fun share of 'experiences'. Settling down with my routines freed up a lot of "me time", but sadly, I didn't seem to have much to do.
On discovering my newfound free time, I looked for some fun classes I could take up off-campus. That's where I found Mr River Smith. His profile showed that he'd worked at a studio for a couple years and had now started taking private guitar lessons. Since I was looking for something casual, I signed up for a session every Monday and Thursday.
And that's how I found myself waiting outside a small apartment's door, with a second-hand instrument for my first lesson. Now, I half-expected to see a 30-something dude with a scruffy beard and a dad ponch. But when the door opened, the first thing I could sense was his strong aromatic woody cologne and a hint of minty aftershave. The man that stood before me looked like he had been carved by the gods and brought to life. He looked like he was somewhere around his late twenties, with firm muscles and toned abs pressing against the soft white shirt he wore. His pale face was chiselled, complimented by high cheekbones and eyes that were an icy shade of blue.
He greeted me with his deep voice while running his fingers through his messy blonde hair. I felt weak at the knees and couldn't come up with a reply. He then repeated himself, "You're Amber Parkins, here for your guitar lesson, right?" which brought me back to reality. I managed to mumble a reply, realising these lessons were going to be a lot more interesting than I thought.
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When I first got an inquiry email from Amber, I didn't think much of it. I'd had plenty of seniors coming for lessons and was now used to seeing them leave only within a couple of weeks. Most of my students assumed I was very casual with my teachings, and while I may not be strict, I was firm with what I taught. And then, she showed up at my door.
Majority senior female students that came to me, showed up in lousy sweatshirts and greasy hair, but Amber clearly stood out from the crowd. Her long caramel hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, accentuating the features of her face. Her ivory skin glowed in the sunlight, bringing attention to the rim of green around the iris of her brown eyes. When I greeted her, her luscious pink lips broke into a soft smile.
She wore a black camisole top that emphasised her voluptuous breasts that showed enough cleavage to leave little to anyone's imagination. Underneath, she wore black denim shorts that showed off her smooth tan skin and slim legs. The choker around her neck only made me wish even harder that she weren't my student, but she probably had a boyfriend anyway. With that body, she probably even had a huge line of people waiting for her. For some reason, the thought made me a little uneasy, even though I'd just barely met her, but I shrugged it off as nothing. With that thought, I began our lesson. Either way, she was still my student, and I her teacher.
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The first lesson, though simple, was a little difficult for me. Not because I was learning to play a new instrument altogether, but because I'd never had a teacher like Mr Smith. He was calm and very patient. He explained how to go about playing the instrument while showing it to me with such enthusiasm. His eyes twinkled with delight every time I inquired about anything, and he would speak about it with such passion. But those eyes, those brooding icy blue eyes, had a hint of mischief in them too. As much as I felt happy learning something new with each lesson, I seemed to find his company to be something I looked forward to.
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If I thought the first lesson would be hard, I was thoroughly wrong. At first, I thought Amber would be like every other college student of mine - impatient and flippant, but she proved me wrong once again. She constantly seemed to be full of surprises, engaging in passionate conversations about not only music but other interesting topics. Every time she got something right the first time, her eyes would shine brighter with excitement, and the little green in her eyes took over the brown. I found myself growing rather fond of her company, not only as a student but as a friend of sorts.
Still, every time she referred to me as 'sir', my cock stirred back to life, producing billions of images to flash through my mind where she'd call me 'sir'. Sometimes, I couldn't help but seize every opportunity I got to feel her skin. Every single touch felt electric and made me starve for more. I often found myself fantasizing about how those soft lips of hers would feel pressed against mine, but I was a professional, and couldn't risk anything at all with Amber.
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As a hardworking student, I'd never had such difficulty paying attention as I did during my guitar lessons. Every time Mr Smith held the guitar and played the instrument, I couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have him hold me in his strong arms. And every time he spoke in his coarse voice, I felt a warmth tug at my clit.
I'd never felt such feelings towards a teacher, and the thought of it felt inferior. I tried fighting against it by trying to 'distract' myself with other boys my age, but nothing seemed to fulfil my true desires. Something was captivating about Mr Smith. It wasn't just lusting that I felt for him, somehow. I thought it was probably just a little crush that would melt away with the lessons, but with each session, my heart only tugged as strong as my clit did.
I constantly started to feel sexually frustrated, especially after my lessons. As I entered my dorm room, realising it was empty, I locked the door and slipped under my sheets. I thought about Mr Smith's masculine scent as I had entered his house, his dark good looks, the outline of his toned muscles beneath his shirt, the hint of stubble on his chin. He had an animal magnetism that I seemed to find irresistible. I thought of him instructing me to take my clothes off in that heavy voice of his while moving my vibrator along my clit. And then slowly touching me, painfully teasing me. I was getting so close already when I heard my roommate knock on the door loudly. I groaned out of frustration and dressed myself to answer the door. But I realised one thing, I had the hots for Mr Smith, and it was not just a little college crush.
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When I heard of my favourite local band coming to play nearby, I invited Amber to see the professional guitarists with me. On asking her about it, she immediately agreed, almost as though she was waiting for me to ask her. Somewhere on the inside, I felt good about how promptly she accepted my invite. I tried to debate the thought by thinking she was probably comfortable around me now, it had been quite a few months and besides talking about music, I'd gotten to know her well enough. She had been studying literature at her college, and was looking to find a new hobby in music.
I waited outside her college campus, dressed in a white t-shirt, a pair of jeans and a jacket. Then I saw her walking up to me in black pencil heels, wearing a navy blue dress that left my jaw hanging. She had let her hair down and had a bit of makeup on, not that she needed it anyway. Her lashes looked longer, making the green in her eyes stand out even more than usual, and the red on her lips matched that on her cheeks. Had she been anyone but my student, I would've grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. But I kept my desires in me.
When we reached the bar, the band had already begun playing. I could see how Amber wasn't just hearing the guitarists but was actually listening to the music. Once their performance was over, we talked about music and guitars over a couple of beers. And then the alcohol slowly gave the both of us some courage say things we wouldn't otherwise.
"Sir..."
"Yes, Amber?"
"I've noticed you haven't got any ring.. uh... so I assume y-you haven't been married? D-Do you have a.. uh... girl.. friend... perhaps?"
"Don't you think that's a bit of a... personal question, Amber?"
"Sorry... sir, I didn't mean to offend you... but I was just curious you know? We spend so much time together, I oughta know something about you."
