Private Lessons

To Amber, by request

"So as you can see reading through the score," I said, feeling every one of the 50 pairs of eyes watching me as I stood behind the director's podium. "That following the 18th bar, there is a modulation up a half step. This is important, particularly to the flutes since they will come in and carry the melody for the next 8 or ten bars."

The students all looked at their music stands, their eyes quick to switch between the stand and me. Then, nearly as quickly as I raised the baton, they raised their instruments into position and waited for me to begin. This was my first rehearsal with the Grosse Pointe Academy Symphonic Band and they were as eager to impress me as I was with them. An old friend of mine, who had been their band director for many years, had taken ill and asked me to fill in for him for a few weeks until he recovered. I could see by their attentiveness why he was so proud of this group and always spoke so highly of them. The girls in their white blouses, plaid skirts, and white knee-highs, and the boys in their white shirts, black ties and black pants were the perfect picture of private school decorum. Each face seemed to be full of a youthful innocence that I had forgotten now that I had moved on to teaching at the university level.

I waved the baton at the proper tempo and the band began to play right on cue, beautifully and in tune. As they played through the modulation and the flutes took the melody, there was a clattering noise off to the side. I glanced over to see a student tripping over a spare music stand, clutching her small black instrument case, but dropping her folder of music, the sheets of music scattering all about her. As she squatted down to gather it up, I waved the band to a halt and gave this late arrival a cold disapproving look.

"Excuse me," she said in a soft sweet voice, her face becoming flushed red. "I'm sorry I'm late, but I was kept over after class."

A series of chuckles arose from the boys in the percussion section as she gathered up a handful of music sheets and tried to stuff them into her folder. Since I was the closest one to her, I stepped down from the podium and helped her scoop up some of the loose music sheets. She had squatted down to retrieve her music and looked over at me and smiled again, her round cheeks flushed red, her light blue eyes sparkling, her full ruby red lips parting to show a gleaming set of perfect white teeth. For a moment, I was mesmerized by the look of this beautiful young woman. As my eyes dropped down to look for additional music sheets, I couldn't help but notice how her stiffly starched white blouse had parted just enough to give me a fetching glimpse of her lovely young breasts. As my eyes wandered lower, it was hard to ignore the sight of her plaid pleated skirt that had risen almost all the way up her thighs to reveal the most shapely pair of legs I could ever remember seeing.

"Here," I said scooping up the last errant pages and handing them over. "I think these are all."

"Thank you, sir," she said softly, her voice sounding sweet and innocent, yet with a husky passion that belied her tender years. "I'm very sorry about all of this. Really."

"That's all right, Miss, uh, Miss," I remarked standing up.

"Amber," she said, rising up with her things. "Amber DesBeaupre."

"Well, Amber, just don't let this become a regular occurrence."

"Oh, no," she said softly with a disarming smile. "I'll be a good girl for you."

Her remark brought another round of chuckles from the percussion section. I cleared my throat and returned to the podium but couldn't help and notice as she moved onto the band platform and took her position among the other flautists, how her skirt seemed to be just a bit shorter than the rest, how her stiff white blouse was more snug, how more shapely were her legs, and how more womanly was her presence. Something told me I would certainly need to keep an eye on her, a very close eye. She took her seat among the first chairs of the flute section and quickly assembled her instrument and got into position. As she blew a few quick notes to check her tuning, I could tell that she had played for several years and that her tone was soft and true and quite lovely.

"All right, let's begin again," I said standing erect and authoritatively.

I again raised the baton and the students followed suit. They began the piece flawlessly again, and when the flutes took the melody line, I couldn't help but notice that Amber was looking directly at me with hardly a glance at her music. From the way her lips formed on the mouthpiece, it was as if she were blowing kissed directly at me. I could clearly pick out the sound of her instrument from the rest of the band. The look in her baby blue eyes was so captivating that I had catch myself back up to the band to make sure that the next major change in the score was made correctly.

There were just some minor glitches that forced us to stop and review for a few minutes, but they were so attentive a group that it was hardly a bother. It seemed that once we reviewed a difficult passage, they picked it up near flawlessly and we were able to move on.

The rest of the class went well and when the alarm bell sounded they packed up and moved out in an orderly fashion. The sound of their voices as they caught up with their friends was delightful and echoed throughout the large room, reminding me of my early teaching days at the high school level. I took my time collecting together the scores we had worked over and filed them away. The sounds of the students had faded away and when I looked up, I caught a glimpse of some honey blonde hair out of the corner of my eye. I looked over to see Amber standing over by the practice piano.

"Excuse me," I said, startled by the sight of her standing alone. "Is there something I can do for you, Miss DesBeaupre?"

"Well, first of all," she said, looking over to see the last of her classmates pass out the door. "I want to apologize for being so late to class."

"It's not necessary to apologize," I remarked as I slipped the last of my music folders into by briefcase.

"I'm usually very punctual, especially when the teacher is as nice as you," she said.

There was a tilt to her head and a look in her eyes that almost seemed as if she were flirting with me.

"Well, thank you," I replied, not sure what to make of her comment.

She moved a bit closer to me as if there were something she wanted to say.

"Will there be anything else?" I said, starting to inch my way toward the door.

"Well, actually, there is," she replied, first looking down at her shiny patent leather shoes then back up to me. "You see that I have a hard time understanding the final passage just before the coda on that Mahler piece we were playing. I'm just not comfortable with how I'm playing it."

"To be honest, I thought you played it quite well," I remarked, remembering the passage and how well all of the students had done. "It is a difficult passage, but you all did very well. What seems to be the problem?"

"I don't know exactly," she said continuing to fidget. "But I just wasn't happy with the way it sounded."

"Perhaps that was because you felt rushed from coming to class so late," I said, again inching closer to the door. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

We were standing very close now and I realized how much shorter she was than me, perhaps barely over five foot while I stood over six feet. She looked up at me with a sweet pleading look on her face.

"I was sort of wondering if you offered private lessons, Mr. Johnson," she asked.

I had to chuckle. There was no doubt that she had been playing for several years and that there was little that I could do for her. Besides, flute wasn't exactly my best instrument. But she looked so appealing standing there beside me with those terrific blue eyes and that gorgeous blonde hair that I felt compelled to do something. My mind raced quickly trying to come up with something that would make her think I was giving her some special attention, yet still get me out the door soon. Perhaps an offer of some additional practice time would be enough.

"Miss DesBeaupre, I think your playing is far too advanced for any lessons I could offer you to do any good," I said, seeing a bit of disappointment sweep into her face.

"But seeing that I was late and all," she said, tilting her head to the side so that her long honey blonde hair swept over her shoulder and spilled down onto her breast. "Would you have some time to go over the Mahler with me just one more time, kind of a makeup sort of thing?"

I looked at my watch and realized that since this was the last class of the day and that I didn't really have anything going on after school, that perhaps I could indulge her just this one time.

"Well, I guess that is the least that I could do for you," I said.

"Oh, goody," she said happily, her face brightening up at the thought.

She quickly found a chair and music stand nearby and got out her instrument and made ready. After laying out the music for the Mahler piece, she looked over to me with a bright look of anticipation. Tapping my foot to the proper tempo, she began to play, the sweet and lovely tone of her flute light and delicate. When it was time to turn the page, she fumbled with the music sheets, so I drew up a chair and sat beside her to hold the music.

She started out quite well, but when I didn't interrupt her even for the slightest of miscues, I could have sworn that she made a deliberate mistake. I stopped her and asked her to start the passage over and she played it flawlessly. When she stumbled through one part, I stopped her again.

"The first eight bars should be real light and smooth, while the next eight are sharp and crisp," I said, trying to whistle the first part as best I could. "Then the next part goes 'pump, pump, pump-pump-pump'. Sort of like that."

She looked me straight in the eye and smiled before playing it again flawlessly. I had to smile as she played so beautifully.

"You've had years of private lessons, haven't you Miss DesBeaupre?" I said.

"Yes," she said quietly, resting her flute in her lap, and her cheeks blushing a glowing red color. "I should have known you could tell."

"That's all right," I said, looking over at her angelic young face, her blue eyes seemed so large and sparkled brightly. I cleared my throat again and turned my attention back to the music stand. "Now this next transition should go more smoothly," I suggested.

She picked up her instrument and played it through perfectly.

"Now that's exactly how to play the part, Miss DesBeaupre," I said unable to keep my eyes away from her. "You have such a beautiful tone."

"Thank you," she replied modestly, her cheeks blushing again as she looked down at her instrument laying in her lap.

Sitting so close beside her, the scent of her perfume was light and fragrant and played deeply on my mind as she played her way through the piece. It was easy to see what was happening here and yet I wanted to do nothing to stop it. When a page began to slip off the music stand, we both reached for it and I grabbed it just as it landed on her lap and her hand came to rest on top of mine. We exchanged an awkward look and as I tried to extract my hand it almost felt as if she were holding my hand to her lap, my fingers just inches away from the hem of her plaid skirt and the soft inviting flesh of her shapely thighs.

"Well, I think that should be enough for today, Miss DesBeaupre."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I think I need some special guidance here. Don't you think so."

I withdrew my hand and stood up from the chair.

"I think that as far as your flute playing goes, you are a wonderful musician, and it seems really pointless for us to continue with this practice session."

She looked down to her instrument laying in her lap and then back up at me.

"It's that obvious, huh?" she said with a sweet sadness in her voice.

I tilted my head to the side and smiled.

"Now I'm new here and don't know about your past history and all, but if there is something you need to say to me, maybe now is the time you let me know."

"Nothing's going on," she said, standing up and stepping over just inches away from me, her warm body swaying just beyond my reach. "You know Mr. Johnson, that there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. Anything."

"Why am I not surprised by that?"

"You're tall and cute and are trying so hard to resist me."

"Is this some kind of a game for you, Amber? If so it's a dangerous game and someone is liable to get hurt."

"Not if we play it safe," she said stepping up closer so that she was a breath away from me. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to make you feel good. And I can tell by the way you look at me, that you want to do the same to me."

"I do? It's that easy to tell?"

"Yep! From the moment you handed me my music sheets, I knew that something was going to happen between us. I just knew it."

"This is crazy," I said more to myself than to her.

I wasn't sure which one of us it was who moved first, but the next thing I knew, her hands were raised up to my chest and mine to hers, and the feeling was electric! My hands slipped over her stiffly starched white blouse, feeling the warm curves of her breasts underneath. She wore no bra and I could feel the tips of her nipples stiffen up and press into my palms. My hands slipped down to her waist and lingered for just a moment before slipping around to her butt. She raised her hands up to my face and leaned up on her tiptoes straining to bring her face closer to mine.

"I'm here, you're here," she said softly, her warm breath caressing my face. "You're an adult, I'm already eighteen. What do we have to lose? It's not like you're a regular teacher or anything."

"Oh, Amber," I whispered pulling her supple young body close to mine. "You don't know how many times I've dreamed about something like this. I've taught music for a dozen years and seen a hundred pretty young women pass through my life. But never have I done this, never gotten this close, especially with someone like you. There've always been reasons not to, and now ..."

My voice trailed off as we looked at each other. She slipped her hands up behind my neck and tried to pull herself up into my arms. I grabbed her ass and picked her up; she hopped up into my arms, her legs quickly wrapping around my hips. Our lips were so close now, our eyes shooting deep hot glances back and forth. I could feel her heart beating quickly as I was sure she could feel mine. And then our lips touched, a light brushing as her soft full lips met mine. Her lips were soft and wet and parted just a bit so that her tongue could slip out between them. I nibbled at it teasingly. I carried her a few steps over to the desk and rested her sweet behind down.

Her slender fingers began to work on the buttons to my shirt, gently popping each one free and pulling my shirt open. I fumbled with her blouse, the stiff material making it difficult for me to undo the buttons in my passionate haste. But when at last they complied and I was able to pull her blouse open I trembled at the sight of her gorgeous breasts. They were wonderfully full and round with beautiful rosy nipples that each came to a taut little tip. I felt her tremble in return as I slipped my hands in to cup them, feel their soft warm flesh melt into my eager hands. My index fingers toyed with her nipples, teasing them to a stiff erection. I felt her gasp as I continued to play with her breasts. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, her head tilting backward to take a deep breath, thrusting her lovely breasts firmly into my hands.

"Oh, God, Amber! You are so beautiful!" I exclaimed softly as I leaned forward to plant a kiss on her exposed neck and shoulders. "I can't believe this is happening to me!"

She leaned forward and kissed my chest before taking a hard little bite out of one of my nipples, making me gasp.

"See," she said with a flirty little laugh. "You're not dreaming, Mr. Johnson."

"You can call me Rob, if you like."

"I prefer Mr. Johnson if you don't mind," she replied.

I smiled at her pretty laughing face before lowering my lips back to her luscious young body that was eager for my touch and caress and kiss. I drew a line of kisses from her ear, down along her neck and out over her shoulder. Her flesh was warm and sweet and silky smooth and I couldn't resist taking a nibble out of the soft flesh of her shoulder. As I moved my lips back to her neck and out along the other shoulder, she began to pull at my shirt, slipping it down over my shoulders and tugging it down my arms. For a moment I let my arms fall away from her and she pulled my shirt free and tossed it casually to the side. I quickly returned my hands to her body, letting my fingers toy a little longer with her nipples before slipping behind to the soft flesh of her back. I scooted her butt closer to the edge of the desk and she began to lay backward. I leaned forward over her, targeting her breasts with my lips and tongue.

"Oh, Mr. Johnson!" she cooed, as my lips brushed against her nipples. "Oh, yes! Don't stop!"

I cupped her breasts and gently began to kiss and nibble on them. I sucked each one up into my mouth twirling my tongue about each tip. She arched her back and pressed herself further into my mouth. The skin of each breast was so soft and tender, I didn't want to pull my lips away. So I licked and kissed and sucked on them until I felt her begin to tremble violently, almost as if she were coming.

"Are you all right?" I asked, perhaps foolishly.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, reaching behind my head and pulling me back down to her luscious body. "I said, don't stop!"

I spent several more minutes on her breasts and neck and shoulders, seeing a rosy glow spread over her chest. Her breathing was hot and fast and I could have sworn that she came again. My kisses and licks began to drift down over the gentle curves of her stomach, her navel and belly. She had raised her knees up which drew her skirt practically all the way up to her waist. As I moved lower and pushed her skirt up the rest of the way, the delightful sight of her cotton panties that were trimmed with a delicate little lace edging greeted me. There was no mistaking the damp area at her center. I scooted her back further onto the desk and took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of her teeming excitement. I looked back up to her pretty face and smiled.

"You are truly beautiful, Amber," I remarked lovingly. "And irresistible!"

I lowered my lips down to the center of her Y, that damp inviting place that made my tongue ache with longing. As I pressed a kiss into the crotch of her panties, she leaned back and slipped her legs up over my shoulders, her warm creamy thighs making sure I wasn't going any place. My tongue sought out the slit of her pussy and could easily feel her dampness as she opened up for me. It they had been edible, I would have eaten my way right through her panties. My fingers slipped under the elastic and pulled the crotch to the side to reveal her beautiful, cleanly shaven little pink pussy. I gasped at the luscious sight of her, spread open for me, begging me to pleasure her.

There is no sweetness on earth to compare with what greeted my mouth as I kissed her clean little pussy. I had never seen a sweet young pussy like this so completely shaven, and eagerly pressed my lips and tongue down onto her, using my fingers to spread her enough to gain entrance to her sweet cunt. Extending my tongue, I slowly licked her wet tasty pussy from bottom to top and back down again. Trying to keep my movements slow and deliberate, I licked her full length slowly again, making sure the tip of my tongue pressed as deep into her hot opening as possible. This time when my tongue reached the top, I began to twirl it around her clit, teasing the tight little nub out of its hood. I sucked it up into my mouth, pressing my tongue down against her clit and wiggling it slowly back and forth.