Page 19 of The Lessons

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Good. I’m going to take it back now and touch different parts of your body with it. All I want you to do is tell me good or bad.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s important we know what areas of your body might be harboring tension or anxiety.”

“Okay,” she agreed, releasing her grip on me. I hadn’t even realized she’d been holding my hand as much as I’d been holding hers.

I took a deep breath. She smelled like fucking candy. “I’m going to start with your head.”

“Okay.” Her eyelids fluttered but remained closed.

I took my hands and gently caressed the crown of her head before lightly moving down. Her chestnut hair was shiny and very, very soft—real girl hair. I fuckinglovegirl hair.

“Good or bad?”

“Good.”

I smiled inwardly and moved to her face, brushing her cheek with the back of my hand. Her eyes remained closed, but she turned toward me, and her lips parted slightly. I took one finger and ran it over her lower lip. She breathed in sharply.

“Good or bad?” I asked quietly.

“Good,” she whispered.

I entertained the thought of pushing my fingers into her mouth, wanting to see her lips wrap around them, but thankfully my better judgment won that one. Instead, I trailed my hand down her neck to her collarbone.

She shuddered.

“Bad?”

“No.”

I nodded, although I don’t know to whom I was nodding—she still had her eyes closed. Maybe I was nodding at myself. But I didn't need encouragement so much as…permission.

I trailed my fingers down to her chest. It was an uncharacteristically warm June day, and she was wearing a thin white blouse and cream linen trousers. I was close enough that I could see the outline of her bra through her top. I paused, letting my fingers circle deliciously around the plumpness of her tits.

“May I unbutton your top?” I asked. Okay, a little off script. Technically, this wasn’t supposed to happen until next session. But maybe she’d let me. I had to try.

You know, in the name of science. Or therapy. Or something.

She nodded gently, and I saw her swallow. She was clearly still nervous, reminding me of how she'd acted when I'd flirted with her last week in the library.

I proceeded slowly, taking my time, my cock stiffening all the while. Undoing the little pearl buttons was a bit of a challenge. I worked methodically, from the top all the way to the bottom, and eventually got my reward as I brushed the shirt off to the sides, exposing her. I observed that her heart rate had picked up, but then again, so had mine.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” I reminded her.

She returned to her controlled breaths.

Her breasts were fantastic. Spectacular, in fact—and as she inhaled, they pushed the limits of her bra cups. I imagined holding them, squeezing them, pulling them out over the cups, and taking her nipples into my mouth. As I circled the plump fullness with my hands, I found myself wondering what kind of nipples she had. Were they short dark knobs, or were they pale and rose colored?

“Good,” she said without prompting.

Then I had a momentary lapse of control and squeezed them gently. I froze and looked up at her face, horrified with myself.

She smiled.She liked it.Thank fucking God.

I had to admit, seeing her like this, so completely relaxed and available, made my cock throb. My eyes meandered down to her linen pants, and I found myself wondering if she was wet, the erotic thought of my patient torturing my patience.

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