It was another sweltering July day in the western Japan. Temperatures during summer here can climb upwards of 35 degrees, and with the intense humidity it can feel like well over 40. I had hoped that, upon leaving my one-room apartment, it would start to rain and cool down the city. But, there was no relief in sight... or so I thought.
I was waiting at the train platform, sweating through my new pale pink blouse. I could feel the material starting to wrinkle and crease under my black blazer and I started to curse my company for requiring women to wear pantyhose with skirts. Right now, my entire body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat as I waited for the train that would take me to my workplace. I fanned myself with a flier I had been given earlier and mentally started to review my tasks for the day. I smiled to myself when I realized which student would be in one of my lessons today.
I'm an English teacher at a school in a small city in Western Japan. It's a good transition job; being only 24 years old and a new university graduate, I hadn't been quite ready to leap into the corporate world back home in Canada. The job's pretty good; basically, I am paid well to talk with people and occasionally explain some grammar. Sure, there are the boring, lifeless students who make me want to pierce my own eyeballs with a whiteboard marker, but then there are other students who more than make up for the bad ones. Students like Tomohiro.
When I first met Tomohiro, I literally felt the wind knocked out of me. Prior to that moment, I thought that was only an expression, but believe me it's not. I had never really considered that many of the guys I had met here in Japan. Basically, the pretty-boy look just didn't do it for me. I prefer men who look, well, like men. But Tomo was different from the average. With short, spiky black hair, deep brown eyes, full lips just begging to be nibbled and a tight, fit body from hours of baseball practice, he was instantly my favorite student. True to the Japanese stereotype, the 23 year old wasn't overly tall. In fact, we were the same height but that didn't bother me. He was far too gorgeous to care about height and it goes without saying that whenever he was in my class I got a little distracted. Since Tomo had lived in Australia for over a year, he had a pretty good grasp of English and even peppered his speech with slang words that never failed to surprise me. I did abuse my power a little; whenever there was an uneven number of students in the class he would, more often than not, be my partner. After a few lessons, I started to think that the attraction was not only from my side. Tomo seemed to take any excuse to touch me or to casually lift up his t-shirt to scratch his tight stomach.
As my mind drifted with thoughts of the flirting to be had during today's lessons, the train pulled up at the platform. I let out a curse under my breath when I saw that the car was nearly full. A bunch of people got off the train, but just as many got back on and I soon found myself packed into the train with all of the other commuters in their business attire. Packed in between the 2 rows of seats, I was unable to move. I grabbed the plastic ring suspended from the ceiling to steady myself, turned up the music on my mp3 player and let my mind wander back to Tomo. I could feel my nipples starting to harden, due to a combination of my thoughts and the air conditioning in the train. The stiff peaks poked up through my silk bra and light cotton blouse. I was thankful that my blazer hid them from the eyes of the middle aged man seated in front of me.
The train pulled into the next station and everyone shifted around inside the train. I moved with them, unable to hold my ground and soon found myself standing next to a new set of seats. I looked down at the two seats: by the window, a typical business man reading a comic book; but when I glanced at the man in the aisle seat I sent a silent prayer of thanks. It was Tomo! He had his eyes closed and was also listening to an mp3 player. I assumed he was coming back from a class at university, since he had a backpack with him. I gave him a quick once over, taking in his outfit: orange & blue sneakers, jeans, orange t-shirt (with the obligatory misspelled English slogan) and black-rimmed glasses. I quickly smoothed down my skirt and blouse, ran a hand through my hair and then tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey, Tomo! How are you?"
He glanced up at me and flashed a brilliant smile when he saw my face.
"Fine, thank you. How are you?"
"Ah, I'm too hot!" I said, and then blushed when I realized just how true that statement was. My nipples had only gotten harder since I realized Tomo was right here and now I could feel a little moisture between my legs. He looked up at me and... was I imagining it, or did I see a glint of arousal in his eyes?
"Hai, atsui desu ne? It's good that the trains are air-conditioned. You look very nice today, Sara-sensei." Tomo's eyes quickly ran over my body and I felt a shiver run up my spine. His eyes took in my appearance: black heels, slim legs clad in pantyhose, knee-length fitted black skirt, black blazer, pink blouse, shoulder length light brown hair. After the once-over, Tomo smiled at me again and I felt my thong getting wetter.
We chatted about mundane things and during our conversation I wracked my brain, trying to come up with a way to make the first move. I could casually put a hand on his shoulder for balance, and then slide my hand down...down...
