When a Korean family rents a nearby Summer cottage, my dear mother volunteers me as an unpaid woodwind tutor.
My student is a pretty college freshman named Su-Yun. Actually, she’d be a knockout if she weren't so painfully shy. She has long bangs that hang over her eyes, which she occasionally brushes to the side with her fingers, long enough to give me a bashful smile.
I spend two hours a week with Su-Yun, teaching her breathing, intonation, and dynamics while her Korean dragon mother hovers in the next room.
Fortunately, Su-Yun isn’t as bashful about the rest of her body.
She wears tank tops and cut-off jeans that are so short they reveal every inch of her well-toned legs. And from time-to-time, while she’s concentrating on her finger work, I catch glimpses of white cotton panties that hug nicely rounded pussy lips.
She’s also blessed with rather full breasts that are in proportion to the rest of her lithe frame, but not so large that she needs to bother with a bra. Going by the stiff little nipples that deform the fabric of her tank tops, I’d say Su-Yun is sexually aroused during about half of our flute lesson.
In early August, I arrive to find the dragon mother's car missing. Apparently, she had called to cancel the lesson (no proper chaperone), but my mom neglected to tell me. When I knock, Su-Yun answers, looking a little confused.
After a moment's hesitation, Su-Yun invites me inside. "Follow me," she says leading me by the hand down a narrow flight of stairs. The basement has been set up for some kind of physical therapy with a massage table and simple exercise machines.
"No flute lesson today. So, I give you present," Su-Yun tells me, pointing to the massage table. "My thank you for helping me."
I say it’s not necessary, but Su-Yun is adamant.
"I go out, you take off everything but underwear and get under sheet," she instructs. "I study sports massage. You will not be disappointed."
A couple minutes later, I'm stretched out on fresh towels with a thin sheet covering my back and my brief-clad ass. "I'm ready, Su-Yun," I call.
To my surprise, she doesn’t touch my skin directly, but massages my neck and back and legs through the cotton fabric. She wasn't exaggerating, her touch is firm and confident. There is an elusive quality to her technique, a kind of soft intimacy that I'd never experienced before during a massage. It’s as if through the skillful use of her hands, Su-Yun has found a way to fully express herself.
She begins with my neck and shoulders and gradually works her way toward my feet. The way she kneads the sore muscles of my upper back is so relaxing that I must have drifted off to sleep.
When I awake, it’s because she’s firmly squeezing and pressing my glutes. Apparently, she isn't happy with something, since she stops and tells me, "Too much material. I remove underwear."
In a fluid motion, she reaches under the sheet and her fingers find the elastic waistband. "Lift hips," she instructs, patting my butt for emphasis. Somehow she slides my briefs over my hips and down my legs with her hands barely grazing my skin.
Su-Yun nonchalantly tosses them on the pile with the rest of my clothes, repositioning the sheet, and returning to work. I hadn't realized how tense my glutes had become, and her hands do wonders to relax them. Soon I’m drifting off to sleep again while she works on my thighs and knees.
A new sensation brings me back to consciousness. Su-Yun massages my feet, pulling on each toe, one at a time, and squeezing pressure points I had no idea even existed. She uses a perfectly placed knuckle to send a bolt of pain through my foot that gives way to an intense sensation of warm relaxation.
After stretching my Achilles tendons and hamstrings, she spreads my legs as wide as the table will allow, and begins working up my legs, this time with feather light touches. Su-Yun has already reached my upper calf when I realize that she is no longer massaging me through the sheet. Rather her fingertips are directly caressing my skin. And call me crazy, but I swear she is deliberately trying to arouse me.
As she reaches my thighs, I sense the first stirrings of excitement between my legs and am thankful that my cock is pointing downward, so if I did develop a full-blown erection, it at least will not become uncomfortably trapped between my stomach and the tabletop.
With her hands under the sheet, Su-Yun is working higher and higher along the inside of my thigh and my balls began to tingle in anticipation of being touched. But, of course, she wouldn't do that.
But then she does.
The first time it’s so slight as to be entirely accidental. When I don't, complain, on the next upstroke, it happens again. Only this time the contact is firmer and lingers a fraction of a second longer. It goes on like this for stroke after excruciatingly arousing stroke.
At first, I try to stifle my moans, but as her fingers began to actually reach along both sides of my balls and squeeze softly, I exhale with a deep sigh of satisfaction.
Su-Yun responds by focusing her touch exclusively on the ultra-sensitive skin of my testicles and perineum, with the entirely predictable side-effect of producing a raging erection. Which means that yet another erogenous zone, my cock head this time, is within range of her talented fingertips. But she wouldn’t actually touch my hard cock, would she?
Apparently, she would.
At first, her fingertip brushes the sensitive skin on the tip of my cock with no more force than a gentle gust of warm wind. Even so, my cock twitches slightly.
Then she touches me again, this time making skin-on-skin contact between her fingertip and my cock that sends a jolt of pleasure reverberating through my body. Her fingers swirl over me with feathery light caresses that send electric shock waves rippling through my stomach and chest.
Very gently, she brings her lips to my ear. “Su-Yun give pleasure?” she whispers, then blows gently just the way I’d taught to play barely audible notes on the flute.
“Mmmm!” A long, guttural moan is the only verbal response I can muster.
The earlobes, I realize, are an often overlooked erogenous zone. But not for Su-Yun. She accompanies her miraculous finger work on my personal magic flute by brushing her warm lips against my ears and blowing ever so softly, as if playing an adagio passage.
So intense is the sensation of her breath, that it’s almost a relief when at last she pulls her lips away from my ear. But a moment later, she resumes at the nape of my neck, sending a fresh volley of shivers bouncing up and down my spine.
Meanwhile, Su-Yun is alternating between rolling my balls with gently vibrating fingertips and swirling her fingers over every exposed millimeter of my cock. My sighs merge into long, loud groans and my breathing comes in shallow bursts.