The Music Teacher Ch. 02

I covered up my embarrassment with both my hands.

"Not fair," she demanded, "I showed you mine, you show me yours!"

"You want to see it?" I asked more than amazed. Her choice of words let old childhood fantasies pop into my head. It was my turn to be embarrassed. I was by no means a hunk, and definitely didn't sport the right equipment to feature in a porn movie. I was at best on the lower scale of 'average'. To be on display, well that just didn't do it for me.

"Off course I want to see it!" Her voice brought me back to my dilemma. To make matters worse she kneeled in front of me, her face only inches away from the bulge in my pants. "I've never seen one before," she added and there was a tone of innocent, curios expectation in her voice.

"Okay then," I gave in, afraid that she might cancel her appearance at the lingerie show. In a way she was blackmailing me and I knew she was fully aware of that fact.

I slowly unbuckled my belt and pulled down the zipper. Her eyes widened as I freed my member from the protection of the Jockeys. She looked like a grade 8 who for the first time cut open the guts of a frog in biology class. This was definitely her first peep at a male member and I pulled down my pants to assist her in her examination.

"May I touch it?" she asked mesmerized.

"Only if I may touch yours," I said adamantly.

She contemplated the thought for a moment then decided that in her first assessment of the male reproductive organs, she was prepared to make some sacrifices.

"Okay," she said softly. She pulled down her panties and sat next to me on the couch. We turned our bodies to each other and reached down simultaneously to do, each our own research. Her fingertip moved cautiously to my tip, she looked afraid that she might break it. I jerked as her finger connected to the sensitive nerve ends.

"Sorry, did it hurt?" she asked apologetic.

"No," I whispered, but I bet it feels a lot like this. I pressed my index finger against her clit and felt the jolt go through her whole body.

"Oh," she whispered as she grasped what I meant.

With utmost caution she followed the rim of my shaft with her fingers. She softly cupped my scrotum and explored my testicles. Her inexperienced touch brought me to the verge of orgasm.

I continued my own investigation. With one hand I felt the texture of those firm breasts; the other explored the secret valley below. She was tight and firm, but my finger moved effortlessly through her moist wetness. I fondled the opening of her vagina then tried to move two fingers inside of her. She twitched as my fingers met her obstacle. She was still a virgin. I abandoned the inspection of her inner vagina and moved up to her clitoris again.

"What does cum look like?" she asked with genuine interest. I guided her hand to surround my shaft, and moved it slowly up and down.

"If you keep on doing this; I'll show you," I said barely audible.

I continued my venture on and about her clitoris as she followed my instruction. I gently moved my finger in circles round the little knob, without touching it directly. Her hips, barely noticeable, moved back and forth as I continued the massage. I was long overdue but tried to subdue the waiting volcano between my legs. I wanted her badly to come but I knew it was over as her hand explored the effects of clenching on my shaft. My cum ejected, most over and in her hand, but a few spurts became airborne and landed on her right breast and belly.

Curiously she looked at the white liquid feeling the texture underneath her fingers. Her eyes were big as her brain processed this wave of new data.

As I walked home, I knew there would be at least two willing models at the show.

"Ann and Lisa," I said the names out loud.

They are fake, I silently came to agreement with the rest of the town's gossip. I stared at Belinda Jones' breasts; no hooters, as she bent down to pick up a toothbrush from the shelf. I've decided I needed to pay a bit more attention to oral hygiene and the pharmacy was conveniently situated on my way home. It was also good practice to know one's customers and I decided I there was a real need to check out Miss Jones. She was wearing a green boob-tube underneath the white overcoat, which she tried to keep open as far as possible. Two very round, very big, pieces of flesh dangled from her chest. Perfect, too perfect. I looked at the very tight white pants she wore. The lines of her g-string panties were clearly visible through the white material. Between her long slender legs the material divided into a deep cleft at the crotch area. She was sporting a perfect cameltoe. She noticed my glance and pushed her hips slightly forward. The cameltoe now excelled in perfection. I had a last peep at the show, before I thanked her very sincerely for the nice toothbrush she had sold me.

Very good, but not my type, I thought as I continued my journey down the street. It had also been a while since I last had some good reading material at hand. I was long overdue for a visit to the library. As it was also very conveniently located on my way home, I stepped into the little two storey building a few minutes later.

"Afternoon Mrs. Simons," I greeted as I saw the little woman behind the desk next to the entrance.

"Hello Pete, it's been a while," she said smilingly. She was wearing a dark green velvet sleeveless dress with a yellowish patterned blouse underneath.

I intensively studied the two little bulges at her chest. Definitely A-cups I confirmed my first analyses of the lady.

"Yes, Ma'am, we're quite busy at school," I answered and continued to the non- fiction department.

"Anything in particular you're looking for?" She asked helpfully a moment later.

"Uh, anything about DJ's, music mixing and so on." I said while I looked through the books in the shelf in front of me.

"I think I might just have the right one." She bent down and started sifting through some books at the bottom shelf.

I looked down and my perception of the female anatomy was changed forever. Never in my life did I think little breasts could be so beautiful. She wasn't wearing a bra and as she bent her blouse parted with the swelling around her chest, allowing me a clear unobstructed view of the bare little mounds of flesh. Her nipples looked soft and silky. The colour just a hint darker than the pale flesh underneath.

"Her you go," she said triumphantly as she stood up with a rather bulky book in her hand.

"The Art of Music, a DJ's essential guide to mixing," she read out the title.

"Perfect," I said. I was really interested and thought I could use the book.

"Anything else?" she asked as she dusted her hands against each other.

"Yes, anything about fashion shows, models, catwalks, that type of thing. I'm the DJ at a fashion show and need to be a little more prepared," I threw in the bait.

"Really! You won't belie..." she stopped in mid sentence.

"Believe what?" I asked innocently.

"Uh no never mind...I've got some books over there at the adult section, there's some...well not so decent pictures and I try to keep them away from kids." She regarded my profile skeptically and then decided that I was by her standards old enough to look at the 'not so decent pictures', without having some permanent damage to my soul.

"Come, I'll show you," she gestured me along.

I followed her to a big shelf at the far corner of the library.

"I put them right on top," she extended her arm and index finger to indicate the top row of books on the shelf.

"Will you help me with this." She indicated to a rather wobbly long ladder.

"Sure," I said as I took the ladder and put it where she indicated.

"Just hold it steady, they should've replaced this thing years ago," she said while she started to ascend. "And don't peep up, I'm wearing a dress!" she warned me sternly.

As she was rather short she had to climb most of the steps to reach the shelf. Her last command was like telling an alcoholic not to drink and then place a case of opened whiskey next to him. I just couldn't resist. Her legs were pale but firm and slender. She was wearing black stockings that went all the way up to her thighs. From there it was suspended by some straps to some sort of belt above her panties. It was the first time I've seen a suspender belt and stared in keen curiosity at the contraption. My eyes were drawn to the dark curly hair between her legs that peeped out in stark contrast on the sides of her white g-string. I could make out the swelling of her lips as they strained against the little piece of material.

"Got one," she said after while and I quickly lowered my head and looked straight ahead of me.

"How does this one sound: The A to Z of..." As my mother told me it was very impolite not to look at a person speaking to you, I demonstrated my good upbringing and looked up. Her reaction was immediate.

"Eeehk! Don't look up!" She screamed and frantically tried to press the dress against her thighs. I tried to look shocked and embarrassed and immediately lowered my glance.

"Sorry Ma'am, but when you spoke...it was sort of instinctive...I'm used to look at people when they speak." I looked and sounded like the poor victim of an exhibitionist.

"Oh Pete, I'm sorry," she said soothingly, convinced it was an innocent accident. "I hope you're not too shocked with what you've seen," she said and her cheeks were flaming red as she stood next to me again.

"No...you're quite...Well it was beautiful. What is all that belts and stuff, I've never seen something like it?"

"Well it's...it's a suspender belt, it just keeps the stockings up that's all," she blushed.

"It's very sexy," I said with admiration.

The colour on her cheeks still darkened and she sort of apologized for wearing something sexy. "I never wear stuff like that, but...I wanted to tell you a moment ago, believe it or not I'm gonna be a model at a fashion parade next week. I got some samples from Mrs. van Zyl this morning and well...I couldn't resist trying them on."

"I'm glad you did," I said shyly. "It looked very nice."

Mrs. Simons looked wary at me then decided it was an innocent enough comment. "Thank, you sir," she said equally shy, "it will definitely boost my confidence for the show."

"You're going to parade in that?" I appeared shocked.

"Yes...why? Is something wrong? Is it too..." She was looking really worried. "Is it too revealing?" She found the appropriate word at last.

"No...well I wouldn't know, I only had a brief peep at it. I really couldn't see it clearly." I hesitated a moment and added, "If you showed me again I could give an honest opinion." I offered my sincere help in the matter.

Distrustfully she looked up and down at my figure. "It's not that you want to perve is it?"

I looked devastated and annoyed by her remark. "Mrs. Simons!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry, just checking," she mumbled an apology. "Okay, but I need a very honest opinion, even if it's bad," she demanded.

"On my word of honor," I promised. It was a good Monday.

She glanced around the library to make sure there were no other people. She bent down and caught the rim of the long dress. As her body came erect again she pulled the dress up. She stopped only after she had a bundle of the dress' material above her waist.

"Wow," I said and looked in absolute awe at frilly contraptions and belts. My eyes moved to the white g-string. It fitted snuggly over her vulva, covering the most essential parts, but a few dark curls of hair were showing from the sides.

"It's so beautiful Ma'am, it's just that..." I stopped and waited for her response.

"Just what?" She sounded very worried.

"There's some hair sticking out. Not that I mind," I assured her quickly, "but you might want to shave and trim it to a landing strip or something, even if it's just for your event.

"I've never been good with... shaving and stuff. I just trim once in a while. What is a landing strip?" She sounded clearly embarrassed but none the less very curious.

"Well I assume it is a bit difficult to see down there," I pointed to her still exposed panties, "let alone shave in a style. You should maybe let your husband help you; he'll know the meaning of a landing strip anyways."

"Tom is in Iraq," she said sadly, "for a six month security contract. And... ach even if he was here, I don't think he'd be up to it. The only hair he was ever interested in is in his rifle's telescope."

Monday was indeed full of opportunities and I never let one pass. I offered my help. "Maybe I can help, I'm not a barber or anything, but I know the workings of a razor. That is if you'll let me off course." The puppy dog look in my eyes accompanied this very harmless proposal.

"Will you, really?" Her voice was full of gratitude as she realized the immense sacrifice I was willing to make, just to help her.

"You know what," she said as released the dress to fall to her ankles, "I don't think Mrs. van Zyl has a DJ for the show yet. Will you be interested? It will make a good practice run for your own event you know."

"You'll ask her?" I sounded overwhelmed. "I'd love it."

It was late afternoon as I finally got home. I popped in the pharmacy for a ladies razor and well, a second peep at a pair of tight white pants. Monday was good, very good. Tuesday would be good as well; I had an appointment to do some shaving.