by Amethyst Hunter |
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"Don't knock masturbation. It's sex with someone I love." - Woody Allen ~~~~~~~~~~~ Careful...careful, Tsubaki told herself silently while she twisted the doorknob as quietly and slowly as possible. As soon as she was certain she had a firm grip on it, she eased the door open and peeked inside the room. All the lights were off. No one was there. Tsubaki breathed a quiet sigh of relief and quickly slipped inside. She shut the door with the same amount of caution as she'd used in opening it, and then put her hand into the pocket of her dress. She brought out a little flashlight she'd borrowed from one of her father's servants and flicked it on. A quick sweep of the room showed her the best place to hide: underneath the large bed. She dropped to her stomach and squirmed out of sight, switching off the flashlight only after she'd adequately concealed her presence. Thus hidden, she settled her chin on her hands and waited. It wasn't long before she heard the footsteps. She grinned and bit her lower lip, trying not to fidget and make any noise that might give her away. As she had expected - hoped - the footsteps did not pass by the room, but stopped beyond the door. There was a creaking of the knob, the door opened, and closed after a moment when a light was switched on. Tsubaki was only partly aware of mouthing the word that slipped silently past her lips: Sensei. She'd had a crush on the doctor ever since that first magical moment when she'd met him as a small child. He was so beautiful, so kind and gentle, and she'd fallen in love with him instantly. It had been purely chance that at a particular moment she had walked by the entrance to the casino and overheard him telling a servant that he was retiring for the evening; he was not to be disturbed unless it was either an emergency or Kakyouin Takeshi - her father - sent for him. That was when the idea had sparked in Tsubaki's mind. Just a glimpse, was all she wanted. Just a quick sighting of what had fueled her fantasies for so long, and then she would graciously allow Sensei his privacy the first chance she got to sneak back out of his room without being detected. She slowly reached into the pocket of her dress once more and withdrew a compact, the kind that normally carried makeup and a mirror in it. This one had two mirrors and no cosmetics; she pried it open, being careful not to create any sound as she did so. Tsubaki angled it on the floor so that she could see the room better, just in time to catch Sensei tucking a white silk handkerchief back into his jacket pocket and place his glasses on the top of the dresser. Evidently he'd been cleaning them. Tsubaki smiled as she tilted the compact more. With or without glasses, Sensei was without a doubt the most perfect man she'd ever seen. He toed off his shoes and lined them up neatly next to the dresser, then took a few more steps into the room. Long, slender fingers, unhurried in their movements, began to roll his socks off his feet as he bent to remove them. He straightened and started to work the buttons on his jacket, then his tie after he'd removed that, and then his shirt after the tie was dispersed with. Tsubaki's breath caught in her throat when the shirt was the last item to go. He was gorgeous. Creamy, pale and perfect skin everywhere, as far as the eye could see. Sinewy muscle rippled through his arms and torso. He was more than an angel, he was a god, a purest ideal made flesh and blood. How often had she lain awake in bed, night after night, spinning colorful scenarios that all to some degree involved the separation of Sensei and his clothes? How many times had she played doctor with herself under the covers after a particularly vivid imagination? Tonight would give her plenty of inspiration for future fantasies. His nipples, she noticed, were a soft rose color, instead of the darker brown that was common for most men. They hardened slightly when the chill in the air touched his chest. Tsubaki licked her lips, letting her gaze wander lovingly over Sensei's beautiful body. Did his fiancee' appreciate what an exquisite man she had? Somehow, Tsubaki didn't think so - even by Sensei's own admission they hardly ever got to see each other. Surely, if this fiancee' adored Sensei as much as he did her, she ought to find the time to appreciate him. Tsubaki certainly did, and she felt a somewhat bittersweet delight in knowing that although Sensei did not reciprocate her affection, at least she got to see him more often than his fiancee' did. A pang of disappointment clenched in her chest when he moved across the room then, going to the closet to hang up the shirt and suit jacket he'd just taken off. She couldn't quite see him, and try as she might she couldn't get the compact angled successfully in order to locate him. There was the creak of a door being opened, the rustle of clothes being hung up, and then the muted rush of a zipper that told her he was taking off his pants as well. She wanted to see, damn it! The closet door creaked again as Sensei closed it. There was another whisper of fabric, and then another, but Tsubaki had no idea what those sounds meant...until Sensei moved back into view again. He was completely nude. Tsubaki stared with rapt fascination at the flex and roll of his firm buttocks as he walked toward the bathroom. If asked at that moment her exact opinion, she would gladly have given her unabashed statement that Sensei had the world's most perfect ass. She longed to run her fingertips over those smooth pale cheeks and cup their luscious curves, feel the muscles tense beneath her palms as she squeezed his flesh. Oh, Sensei...! She would have many good dreams for countless nights to come. He entered the adjoining bathroom but did not shut the door all the way; a two-inch gap allowed her to hear his movements but not see him - or he her. This was it, she should leave now while she still could. The door was unlocked and with any luck she could slip out unnoticed. Yet Tsubaki hesitated. Shower, she thought. He's going to take a shower. And her thoughts proved right on the money when a few minutes later she heard water begin to run. She eased out from underneath the bed and rose to a crouch; still, she hesitated, listening to the water spray and watching the steam creep out from the bathroom. She should go now. But...Sensei in the shower... It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Tsubaki rose to her feet and carefully padded on tiptoe towards the bathroom door. A nervous glee sent a shiver down her back that she couldn't quite repress - if she was caught spying on Sensei, she would be in so much trouble, surely! But she couldn't help herself as she peered inside the bathroom, just barely managing to suck back the gasp that almost exited her throat when she saw him. The shower stall was made of clear glass, so she had a nice view of him. Sensei was dousing himself under the water, eyes closed while it soaked his lovely silver hair. He reached for a washcloth and held it under the water before picking up a bottle and squirting a dollop of soap into it. God, how Tsubaki envied that washcloth as it passed languidly over each plane and curve and nook of Sensei's body...would that it was her hand running the cloth over his skin as he soaped himself thoroughly from head to toe. Like a magnet were her eyes drawn to the water droplets clinging to his nipples, the stream of soapy liquid running down his chest, his flat belly, trickling between and down his long legs... Tsubaki was fascinated to note that the unusual shade of silver was indeed his natural color, as her gaze followed the path of water to rest on the juncture of his thighs. She'd seen penises before, of course - the girls at school regularly snuck in pornographic magazines to titter over in secret when they thought that no teachers were around. But this was different. Tsubaki swallowed heavily, unaware that her own breathing had quickened slightly. She'd only hoped to catch a glimpse of Sensei undressed, but this was so much more exciting. This was an intimate glimpse into a part of Sensei that she'd only fantasized about existing. Sensei finished soaping his body and rinsed out the cloth, hanging it over the top side of the stall before moving to stand more fully beneath the waterfall from the showerhead. He turned here and there, letting the foam rinse from his skin, and then reached for the bottle of wash again. He squirted more of the liquid into his palm, which Tsubaki figured he would use next on his hair. He did...sort of. A funny little half-smile curved his sensuous lips as the hand with the liquid in it lowered to his groin. Sensei's eyes drooped and closed, and he uttered a soft sigh of obvious delight as he began to slowly stroke himself. Tsubaki watched, her eyes widening as she watched the rising transformation of his flesh. Before, it had been impressive - now it was becoming something quite awesome. It lengthened and swelled further, its color darkening as his arousal flourished with every caress his elegant fingers lavished upon it. To think...that part of him could give a woman so much pleasure...! Enviously, Tsubaki thought of his fiancee'. She got to see Sensei like this whenever she wanted to, no doubt. She probably even got to play with it if she so desired. What must it feel like, to wrap one's fingers around Sensei's sex and feel that erect flesh pulsing with hot desire? What would it feel like, to have that hardness penetrating the most intimate places of one's body...? Sensei tilted his head back to let the shower spray pelt his neck and moaned softly as the pace of his hand on his cock grew faster, and faster, and rougher. Tsubaki watched eagerly, with part excitement and part amazement. So fast! So hard! Didn't it hurt to pull it like that? She'd always heard that men's parts were so very sensitive to rough treatment; that was why they always taught you to kick a man there if he bothered you. Strange, that Sensei could do that to himself and seem to enjoy it so much. Sensei's lips parted and his back arched slightly. His panting grew audible over the pounding of the water as his hips rocked back and forth while his body mimicked the rhythms of coupling. Tsubaki licked her lips and unconsciously clamped her thighs together to hold back the rising heat that was warming her own body to a somewhat uncomfortable degree. She could almost feel in a vicarious sense the rapid thrusts with each glide of his fingers over his shaft as he milked himself in a sure, steady rhythm. My, Sensei, what a big instrument you have! All the better to examine you with, my dear. Tsubaki bit her lip to stifle a giggle at that thought. Why couldn't she be several years older, so that she could do that to him herself, and share in his pleasure? Life was both generous and cruel with its introduction of Sensei into her life... She wondered what the doctor was like in bed. Surely he would be as gentle and considerate as he was in his work; he would woo his partner with sweet words and tender caresses, generous and giving in his foreplay and unabashedly romantic, before he invited his lover to join with him in the ultimate embrace. His lovemaking would be slow and sensual; he might affectionately tease his partner into heightened desire, but only enough to arouse and inspire, never to frustrate or hurt, as he brought them both to the peak of mutual fulfillment. How many times - if ever - had he made love with his fiancee'? Did he cry out her name when he climaxed? Tsubaki wondered what they did together, in the few times they were able to meet. Sensei of course would never disclose anything of a prurient nature; to do so would have been most impolite and inconsistent with his gentlemanly character. Perhaps they indulged in evening drives that ended in steamy makeout sessions, like many of her peers? Or was that too tawdry? Sensei's fiancee' surely had an appreciation for the finer things, like he did - she would likely prefer a more luxurious setting for their trysts. Tsubaki tried to conjure a mental image of the fiancee', but as she hadn't ever seen the woman she was unable to produce a clear picture of her face. She settled on a nondescript blur that nevertheless bore a peculiar resemblance to her own petite features. Sensei would court her like the princess she doubtless was, never hurried or harsh in his conduct. They would not settle for a frantic groping in some dark corner. They would slip away to some exotic boudoir, secreted from the rest of society, and draw out their union to its maximum lingering satisfaction. Sensei's body abruptly went rigid. He braced himself against the side of the shower stall with one arm, fingers digging into the tile. His other hand jerked once, twice, and his hips thrust forward violently as the stiff organ clutched in his fingers spasmed, and a deep groan issued from his throat. A stream of milky white liquid arced forth from the tip of his cock and hit the opposite wall, trickling down and easily washed away by the steady downpour of water. Tsubaki found herself panting along with Sensei, his cry of passion - faint though it was - still echoing in her ears. What was that name he'd uttered - Tsuzu-something? She thought it sounded like the name of one of the new servants her father had said he'd just hired, but her hearing was likely skewed by the noise the running water made. Obviously it had been his lover's name that he'd cried out as he'd come. Tsubaki felt a flash of hot jealousy that nonetheless seethed below the temperance of her rational thought as she sought to quell it. Though his fiancee' wasn't with him, Sensei was still remaining faithful to her even with his most lustful thoughts. Just another example of how utterly perfect he was, keeping his desire true only to the one woman whom he'd pledged himself. As quickly as it had blossomed, Tsubaki's jealousy melted away and was replaced by a sharp loneliness. Sensei...her beautiful, wonderful Sensei - how could anyone not possibly love him as much as she did? Sensei's chest rose and fell deeply as he caught his breath, leaning with both hands now against the wall for support as he recovered. After a few minutes he lifted his head and stood upright again, arms at his sides, letting the water massage his skin for a while, before he turned his attention to shampooing and conditioning his hair. The spell was abruptly broken when he finished that and shut the water off. He reached for the stall door and opened it. Tsubaki quickly stepped away from the bathroom door so he wouldn't catch her peeping. She glanced at the main door, but decided against it - there was no time to plot a stealthy exit. She retreated to her hiding place beneath the bed, mindful of the need for absolute silence, even as she scraped the back of her leg on the box spring crawling under. She heard the rumpling of a towel and then more running water - the sink. Ah, the telltale scritching of a toothbrush. Naturally, Sensei would be mindful of the need for good oral maintenance, being a doctor. He was definitely the kind of man who would floss faithfully after every meal, too. Tsubaki smiled. Mmm, minty-fresh kissing breath. The boys at school would do well to take lessons from Sensei. She heard him spit, rinse, and the running water ceased. There were more sounds, of toiletries being put away, and then she saw the light wink out as the bathroom door opened and Sensei entered the bedroom. She fished around in the folds of her dress for her compact and aimed it where she could see his feet moving around the floor. He hadn't bothered to wrap the towel around his waist, or to put on a robe - a fact for which she was immeasurably grateful as her eyes greedily wandered over the alabaster planes of his deliciously bare body. Never again would she be able to look at Sensei fully dressed without being reminded of what lay underneath all those dashing white clothes. Tsubaki grinned to herself. It would be her precious secret to cherish for as long as she lived. He walked over to the table by the window, where a longstemmed glass and a bottle of wine awaited. Of course, Sensei was a wine-drinker; his preferences in alcoholic beverages were well-known by the staff. Apparently he liked to enjoy a small glass before bedtime. Tsubaki herself had had wine before, in tiny amounts, on the few occasions her father allowed her to dine with him at important dinners. She wondered what vintages were Sensei's favorites - no cheap bottle brands for him, for sure. He had class. Sensei poured the wine and sipped it gently, gazing with unfocused eyes out the window at some unfathomable mystery only he seemed privy to. Perhaps he was still thinking of his fiancee', wishing that she was with him so that they could cuddle together in the big comfy bed. Again, that pang of jealousy. Tsubaki was certain that if it wasn't for her being Kakyouin Takeshi's daughter, she could conceivably leave the shelter of the bed to offer Sensei some comfort without being seen as improper - despite the fact that she was his patient. Didn't some doctors wind up falling in love with their patients? It could happen. True, there was the age difference. Sensei was old enough to be her father. But then again, older men married much younger women all the time. Age was not such a barrier if the couple in question matched each other well enough. Tsubaki just knew in her heart that she and Sensei would have so much in common if they were to get together... But, there was his fiancee' to consider... Tsubaki lowered her forehead to the floor and closed her eyes for a second. It just wasn't fair. Sensei, I love you so much...but I want you to be happy more than anything in the world...If only I could be so sure that she loves you just as much as I do, I'd feel better about letting you go... The muted clink of a glass being set down drew her attention. She lifted her head and looked toward the table, but by the time she'd focused her eyes that way he had already moved beyond her line of sight. Tsubaki turned her head from side to side, but couldn't locate him. Where - ? The light went out, and then the bed dipped slightly overhead. For a moment Tsubaki worried about being mashed, but the box spring was quite sturdy and the mattress didn't sag very much. She still had plenty of moving space, thankfully. The rustle of sheets was heard as Sensei adjusted them and got into a comfortable resting position. Then there was silence. So. He slept in the nude. How interesting. The only problem now was that she was stuck in here, with no way to leave without being caught. Tsubaki exhaled quietly and settled her head on her arms. She would just have to wait until Sensei had fallen asleep before she could safely sneak out. In the meantime, she contented herself with mental replays of everything she'd seen tonight, and that brought a smile to her lips once more as her eyes slipped shut. In her mind's eye, Sensei wasn't alone in that shower, either... ~~~~~ Tsubaki yawned and then fully awoke with a start, biting back a yelp when she bumped her head on the box spring when it dawned on her that she had no idea how long she'd been napping. It was still dark in the room, but she could see a spilling of faint silver light into the room, on the window side. Moonlight. Tsubaki listened hard for several minutes, trying to ascertain that Sensei was still asleep. When she heard no noise save for her own hushed breathing, she decided to try to slip out from under the bed. Each second seemed to take longer than it should, or perhaps it just seemed that way because she was making extra sure not to create any noise that would wake Sensei and alert him to her presence. If caught, she could always just say that she wasn't feeling well and needed some more medicine, but she would be hard-pressed to explain what she was doing right by his bedside when he was likely still naked beneath the covers. She didn't want him to think her a pervert, though he would doubtlessly remain polite as he scolded her for skulking about at all hours. Once she had wriggled out onto the open floor Tsubaki kept to a low crouch and listened again. Still no sound. Cautiously, she raised herself inch by painstaking inch to a kneeling position, and peeked over the top of the mattress. Sensei lay on his stomach with his head turned towards the window. She couldn't see his face from this angle, but judging from the way his shoulders lifted and ebbed he was soundly asleep. Deeming it safe to risk exposure, Tsubaki got to her feet and stood, watching him, admiring the way the moon blanketed his form with its incandescence. It was fitting, that play of silver and shadow upon his hair, his skin, as the heavens paid solemn homage to their angel. A sense of awe swelling suddenly in her chest made it hard for Tsubaki to breathe momentarily, and she forgot all about beating a quick escape. She wanted to bear witness to this priceless grain of time even as it was slipping away, to reassure herself that the vision in front of her wasn't just a mirage. In the morning, everything would be its usual way again. Sensei would dutifully carry on with his work and she would continue to ghost about the halls of her father's ship, unnoticed but for her chronic illness, her only friend long since vanished. Was it so wrong to wish for just one night of untainted happiness? One perfect memory, frozen forever in its absolute sacrosanctity - that wasn't too much to ask from life, was it? Irene would have understood. If she had been able to stand here now, alongside Tsubaki, and look upon the loveliness that was her beloved Sensei, she would have agreed that this was a moment for worship. Sensei. Fair, radiant Sensei. Sensei, whom she'd fallen in love with the day her father had taken her to a new hospital and told her that they were going to cure her. Sensei, who had smiled so kindly at her and assured her time after time that he would do his best to make her well again. Sensei, whom she'd grown to feel protective of even as she'd secretly longed for him to invite her to become his lover. Sensei, who could make the ordinary seem so much more with every graceful action he made, every cultured word he spoke; his mere presence in a room was guaranteed to captivate anyone lucky enough to set eyes upon him. Yes, Irene would have understood. She was the kind of person who believed in living life to its fullest; she had been an inspiration to Tsubaki in the brief time that they'd known each other. Tsubaki could almost hear her voice now, encouraging her to indulge in this impossible dream, if only for one single night. Sensei stirred, causing Tsubaki to turn as still as stone. He shifted underneath the silk sheets, kicking them partially off his body until they slid down just above his hips. Then he relaxed into peaceful slumber once more. Tsubaki held her breath. The moonlight dipped into the small of his back and teased at the skin covered by the remaining sheet. Dare she...? ...the sway and roll of his taut buttocks as he walked, sure and purposeful... Tsubaki edged around to the foot of the bed, and then the other side, her gaze never leaving Sensei's face as she noted the silver that dusted his features. He had the longest eyelashes she'd ever seen on any man. She hesitated, reached out a hand, paused, and slowly rested her palm on his left shoulder blade. His skin was so soft, like smooth satin, and warm. He didn't stir when she touched him. Tsubaki's heart beat faster with a thrill she'd never known before. She was touching Sensei. She almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure that this was real. She was touching Sensei. She moved her hand carefully across his shoulders, her palm grazing his back with the lightness of a feather. He remained sleeping, though she felt his muscles twitch gently against her fingertips - an involuntary response to the stimuli, hardly enough to awaken him. Tsubaki let her hand rest more fully on his back, reverently stroking the skin. Nothing her fantasies had ever created could have prepared her for this experience. She took her index finger and raised it to the back of his neck, just below the tendrils of silver. Lightly she pressed the bone there, and trailed her finger precisely down his spine, all the way to the top of the cleft between his buttocks, where the skin coyly disappeared beneath the sheet. She slid her hand beneath it, feeling the rise of his rear and moving her palm over the pale globes in circles. Then she squeezed one firmly, not hard enough to wake him but tightly enough to assure herself of its physical reality. A tiny shiver made the skin across Sensei's back ripple with motion, and he gave a low sigh. Before Tsubaki could even think to duck down out of sight he suddenly rolled over onto his back and kicked the sheet completely away. He sighed again, almost as if in contentment, and lay still and silent. Tsubaki couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. She had not been expecting this. Even in all their marbled glories and chiseled preciseness, none of the ageless statues or sculpted figures or etched paintings that she'd seen in art museums could even begin to compare with the ethereal beauty of Sensei. He lay naked, one arm at his side, the other resting above his head, which was tilted slightly back on the pillow to expose his slender throat. His chest rose and fell in measured increments, befitting the manner of one who was deeply cradled in the arms of sleep. His belly was slightly concave, due to his position, but it was firm and flat and she could see even in the shadowy recesses of light that the abdominal muscles were evenly defined. She leaned closer, fascinated by the way the light caught and glimmered faintly on the thin trail of silver that led from his navel down his lower belly all the way to his groin. That part of him was at rest as well, its length draped across the hollow of his thigh. Tsubaki licked her lips. She wanted to touch it. Could she make it change the way he had? There was only one way to find out. Live life to its fullest... Carefully, she climbed onto the bed beside him. She curled her fingers and palm around his penis, the way she'd watched him do it as he'd pleasured himself in the shower. He was flaccid, but not for long - as she started to roll her fingers along the shaft and rub her thumb over the ridges on the lower part of the tip, she felt the flesh take on a consistent firmness and solidify into a rigid mass sheathed in velvety softness. Sensei murmured something in his sleep, his hips twitching in response to the pleasurable touch. Tsubaki stilled her hand, watching him to see if he would awaken. When he didn't she resumed her caresses. But the more she stroked him, the more agitated - the harder - he became, until beads of sweat appeared on his temple and dotted his chest, and he was stirring restlessly about on the bed and uttering quiet moans. Yet Tsubaki was too enthralled with his responses to stop in her actions. To think that she was exciting Sensei's body, making him crave her touch, well...it gave her a heady sense of power. She tightened her grip around him and moved her hand faster, up and down, fingers tugging at the engorged tip, watching the shadows dance along the planes and curves of Sensei's sweat-dewed body. She was fascinated by the way the moonlight flickered across his pale skin. Tsubaki wished she could capture this moment in a photograph; an erotic postcard that, although unable to be hung on her bedroom walls, would nonetheless be carried and treasured by her forever. In everyday life, Sensei was incomparably beautiful; in the throes of passion he was magnificently breathtaking. Sensei was moaning in earnest now, his hips thrusting jerkily in time with the movements of Tsubaki's hand and fingers on his turgid flesh. She saw a bead of pearly white well up on the tip of his member, and that brought to mind an old conversation from school. She'd heard some of the girls in her dormitory talk about one of them 'sucking off a boy' and had thought at the time that it meant giving extra-strong hickeys. Only when her curiosity had prompted her to ask the girl what had happened did she learn what sucking off was about. She'd thought it was perfectly gross, despite the other girl's assurances that it wasn't quite as bad. Did Sensei like having his sucked, she wondered? Or did his fiancee' think it was gross too? How could anything be gross with him? He was beautiful; perfect. Her hand slowed and wavered on his erection as she debated with herself whether or not she should try it on him. Thus far, he'd remained unconscious through everything else she'd done... Tsubaki glanced at Sensei's face to reassure herself that he was still asleep, then leaned her head over his belly. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and then eased them over the head of Sensei's penis, covering it. He filled her mouth, hot and throbbing, and he tasted of an unusual salty musk that was both indefinable and uniquely his own. Sweet, and yet strangely sour. She had to admit that she rather liked it. Emboldened, Tsubaki took more of him into her mouth. She heard Sensei groan loudly as her tongue swirled around his erection and explored the slit in the tip before curling underneath to caress the underside. Then she almost gagged when his hips suddenly thrust upwards and pushed more of his member into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She panicked for a moment and released her mouthful, scuttling backwards as she gasped for breath. Well. There was a trick to this, certainly. Tsubaki crawled over to Sensei's side again and bent over him once more. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and used the other hand to brace herself against the mattress, before parting her lips to let his member slide inside. In this way she was able to control, with some difficulty, the amount of flesh that entered her mouth and successfully avoid choking. With a bit of practice, she learned to alter the force and speed of suction so as to bring Sensei the most pleasure. Her efforts did not go unrewarded. Soon the room was replete with echoes of Sensei's hushed cries as he writhed upon the bed and clutched at its sheets, panting for release. Tsubaki discovered that he seemed to like it the most when she sucked him while using her hand to fondle the swollen mounds beneath his cock at the same time. Her fingers cautiously explored further, and Sensei's back arched off the bed when one finger found a particularly sensitive spot just behind his testicles and rubbed it. He groaned hoarsely, twisting his hips and rolling his head from side to side; Tsubaki loved how his silver hair was all mussed and plastered to his skin by enticing droplets of moisture that she longed to lick off and savor the way she did the condensation on a glass of cold lemonade. She decided to indulge that wish as well. As she released him from the grips of both hand and mouth, his member jutted at a demanding angle back towards his belly and brushed along the top of the valley between her breasts as she moved up to take one of his nipples in her lips. Tsubaki gasped softly as she felt a rush of tingly pleasure that made her own nipples harden in response. The fabric shifting across her skin made the touch even more intense. She wanted to feel Sensei's lips and tongue on her body, feel his strong hands grasp and knead her flesh. Fleetingly, she considered letting him take her virginity. She could mount him now and they could both ride to a satisfying end. If ever there was a more perfect lover, she could not imagine one better than Sensei to be her first experience. Staring down at his decadence, she was sorely tempted to shuck off her gown and mold her bare skin to his, guide his erection to nestle in the damp cleft between her thighs. He would be good, very good, of that she had no doubts. Even asleep, surely he would ensure that she got as much pleasure from their coupling as he did. She sighed. No matter how much she may have wished it otherwise, there was no getting around the fact that he belonged to another woman. Much as she envied his fiancee, she didn't have the heart to try and steal him away from her. Even if she had sex with him, that was all it could ever be - just sex. Besides, there was the fear of pregnancy. She didn't have any protection, and she wasn't sure if there was any available in Sensei's room. If her father found out that she'd gotten pregnant, that would be bad enough, but if he learned that Sensei was responsible, he'd be merciless in destroying the doctor's career and reputation. Tsubaki had no wish to ruin her beloved Sensei, not even for one night of memorable but unrequited loving. The most she could ever hope to do was this act of pleasure for him, and pray that he might remember even a flicker of awareness of this night. She gathered his right hand in hers, lovingly stroking her thumbs over his wrist, knuckles and palm, before pressing a kiss to the heel of his thumb. "Sensei..." She nuzzled his fingers and slipped his index one past her lips to suck gently at it, recalling the time when she'd been wretchedly sick with a fever and he'd patiently sat up all night with her, feeding her ice chips from his fingertips as he'd looked on in tender concern. He'd brought her so much happiness; she only wanted to do the same for him. "My precious Sensei..." Tsubaki bent her head over his chest, determined to enjoy what opportunities she had left in the dwindling hours of night before her Cinderellean dream changed back to its dull normalcy. She ran her fingers over his nipples, savoring the pebbly texture of the buds, before pinching them lightly between thumbs and forefingers to twist them gently. Sensei made an eager sound deep in his throat and arched his back upwards, pressing his body into her touch. Tsubaki smiled and continued to tease his nipples until they had peaked to tight little points. "Do you like that, Sensei? Shall I do more?" she whispered aloud. As if in answer, a strange purring noise began to emanate from his chest and his mouth curved into a dreamlike half-smile. Tsubaki's heart skipped a beat - he was so gorgeous when he smiled like that! - and then she lowered her mouth to lick delicately at his smooth chest. Up close, he smelled delicious - an intoxicating male musk that combined with the fresh scent of the soap he'd used earlier. He tasted good, too; a salty-sweet essence that lingered in her mouth like her favorite dessert as she sucked both his nipples and licked the skin between his pectoral muscles. Tsubaki's gaze traveled up to his face and noted his handsome profile. Dare she? Oh, yes - she was the moth to his flame, unable to resist his compelling allure. As she teethed his earlobe she wondered if he ever removed those ruby studs that he always wore. Not that she wanted him to; they only added to his charm. Idly she wondered where he'd gotten them - a gift from his fiancee', maybe? Her lips curled over the gem and she gently suckled the bit of flesh, eliciting a husky purr from Sensei as he turned his head to expose more of his jaw and neck to her. Tsubaki gave in to the impulse and buried her face in his thick wealth of silver hair, inhaling the clean scent as deeply as she could, to engrave that much more into her memory. So soft...she nuzzled the side of his face and found herself pressing kisses to his temple and cheek, sucking lightly at the pounding pulse just under his jaw. My Sensei... She paused above his lips, her face hovering just inches from his. She didn't even wait to think about it this time; she dared. His mouth tasted as rich as the rest of him, although there was a peculiar hint of tobacco that lent the kiss a bittersweet flavor. But his lips were pure and perfect, impossibly hot against Tsubaki's own as he drank from her mouth when she brushed her lips over his and followed that with a sweep of her tongue across his plush lower lip. Dear heaven, could he kiss! If ever she shared another such moment with someone else, she would never be able to stop herself from comparing him with Sensei - and she instinctively knew that the other person would always come up lacking. Tsubaki reveled in it all: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch - it was every erotic promise and then some, as she let her hands and eyes and mouth wander freely over as much of Sensei's body as she could, teasing him, arousing him, pleasuring him, before returning at last to his neglected sex, which throbbed impatiently against his belly as it demanded its share of attention. "Why, Sensei...I do believe you require immediate treatment," Tsubaki whispered into the night, a soft laugh escaping her as she lowered her mouth and hands to address the situation. Sensei cried out as she engulfed his member. The harsh sound pierced the relative silence of the bedroom and a flood of heavy breathing followed it, as his gasps grew louder and more shallow in his chest. His thighs parted wider, as if in invitation, while his hips bucked with each rough thrust of his cock into the wet heat that was so hungrily suckling at it. Tsubaki had to tighten her hold on the base of his erection to try and slow his thrusts so that he didn't drive too deeply down her throat, but at this point Sensei was so far gone in his arousal that she couldn't control him as well as she would have liked, and she wound up having to pull back in order to breathe. By then it was clear what Sensei needed so desperately, and she gave it to him: both hands wrapped around his shaft, rolling the rigid organ in her palms as if shaping a doughy pastry as she rubbed its length from top to bottom and fingered its tip repeatedly. He thrust several more times and then suddenly his entire body stiffened. Tsubaki had only a moment to comprehend what was happening before Sensei dug his heels into the mattress and thrust a final time, so hard that his lower body actually lifted free of the bed. He cried out breathlessly as he did so; simultaneously, a splash of something wet and warm hit Tsubaki's chest and streamed down between her breasts and over the front of her dress. She squeaked, reflexively pulling back on Sensei's member, and it spasmed again, releasing another gush, and then another, that splattered over his belly and the surrounding sheets. Tsubaki couldn't help the nervous giggle that erupted from her. She had no idea there would be so much of it! And her hands were still wrapped around Sensei's cock; he spurted one last time, groaning as he came, and his body went limp as his erection began to recede. He fell back against the bed panting raggedly for a while, before relaxing and growing settled into full slumber once more. Tsubaki released him and slid off the bed, in awe of what had just taken place. She went to his side and kissed his damp face, his shoulders, his chest. She stroked the moist tendrils of silver that were plastered against his cheeks, marveling at his eager response to her caresses and pondering how men could be bound to women by such simple satisfaction. Was it possible, in fact, that his fiancee' had no idea of the passions that Sensei kept hidden? And if so, was that because they weren't as close as they appeared to be? Hope dawned like a flickering candle in Tsubaki's heart. It was a delightful possibility to consider, and she felt positively giddy as she started to tiptoe from the room. No, wait. She couldn't leave Sensei all messy like that. It didn't look right. She went to the bathroom and got a clean washcloth, dampening it slightly with warm water, and cleaned herself off first. She rinsed the cloth and returned to Sensei's side. Carefully she wiped his stomach clean and dabbed at his groin the best she could. There was nothing to be done about the spatters on the sheets; those she prayed would dry up on their own in time. When she was done she deposited the washcloth in the laundry hamper and pulled a section of the topmost bedsheet over Sensei, making sure to tuck him in lest he catch a cold. After checking to be sure that she had recovered her compact and flashlight from her hiding place beneath the bed, Tsubaki brushed one last kiss over Sensei's lips and turned to leave. No matter what happened after this night, she would always hold dear in her heart the most special memory of their intimacy, and whether he ever realized it or not, Sensei had fulfilled her fantasies in more ways than one. "Muraki-sensei...sweet dreams, my love," she whispered as she slipped out of the room and quietly shut the door behind her. ~~~~~ |
