Learning Curve (4 page)

“Don’t be silly.” She traces a finger along my mouth. “You were begging for it.”

I start to protest but she moves in again, covering my mouth with hers, stifling my words.

“Please, Miss,” I say after biting her tongue playfully, causing it to disappear from my mouth. “Can I have a taste now?”

Her eyes glisten and she holds back a smile.

“What?” I start easing myself out from under her embrace.

“I do hope you give better head than you speak German.”
 

She bursts out laughing and I can’t control myself either. I bury my nose in her wild mane of hair and find her ear.
 

“I’ve had better teachers than you.”

I have my eyes back on her face just in time to see the look of playful indignation expressed in the ‘o’ of her mouth. I wink at her and move down to taste her nipples.

I cover them in hot saliva and trail my tongue along every inch of her breasts. The magnetic pull of her pussy is too strong though and I abandon her chest. I lock my eyes on hers while I travel south. Her face is bunched together in a look of pure desire, her lips puckered and open and her eyes covered by slitted eyelids. I smell her tangy juices before I taste them. I want to dive in and savour them but, if anything, I know she likes it slow so I restrain myself. I treat her inner thighs to a shower of wet kisses while my nose drinks in her heady perfume. I anticipate the special moment of licking a new lover’s pussy for the first time. The mere thought of it makes my head spin. I sat across from this woman for weeks, dreaming of this while she tried to drill the difference between ‘Die’ and ‘Der’ into my distracted brain. To bury my lips between her legs now feels like an unexpected triumph, a victory of the heart, but I’m getting slightly ahead of myself.

My tongue slicks alongside her pubic hair and I let it tickle my nose. I position my hands under her buttocks and run my thumbs over that delicate curve where the behind joins the legs. My own juices start flowing again. The memory of how Giselle slowly drove me to orgasm earlier, so controlled and confident in the outcome, nudges my clit to attention. I glance up at her and strands of hair cling to her face. I don’t have the patience to make her wait any longer. My lips swell at the prospect of licking her and I take position. I blow gently over the length of her pussy and drink in the pink glistening sight of it. I circle my tongue around her clit and the aroma of her juices unleashes a long-buried passion inside of me. No matter what stands to happen after this, it’s already much more than sex for me now.

The first contact of my tongue on her clit sends a shiver up my own spine and Giselle’s quiet moan adds to the excitement. I sense fluids trickling down my thighs. My thumbs are so close to Giselle’s pussy they’re soon covered in her wetness. I’m startled by two hands tugging at my hair, pulling my face up.

“Turn around,” Giselle hisses, her breath hitching in her throat. “Sit on my face.”
 

Her eyes remind me of the blue heat of a flame before it starts flickering. A little reluctantly I desert my spot between her legs. The promise of what’s to come, however, squashes that initial reaction quickly. The only thing worrying me by the time I spread my legs over Giselle’s face is I may drown her in my wetness. I bend over and focus on her upside-down pussy in front of me. I suck her clit between my lips and nibble it softly. Giselle’s hands are on my buttocks, spreading them apart and her breath caresses my pussy lips.

The sensory overload is almost too much. Giselle’s clit throbs under my nose as my own is inches away from her tongue. I lower myself some more and lick up and down her lips. I curl an arm over her hip until my fingers reach her wet entrance. I lose focus again when I feel her tongue licking and entering me. All I hear is the sound of mouths feasting on juices and tongues lapping at wetness, interspersed with soft groans. I alternately suck her lips and clit in my mouth while my fingers graze the rim of her pussy.
 

I inch a finger up her and as soon as I’m in, Giselle mirrors my movement. I have her inside me again and, instinctively, my body leans backwards because it wants more. But I need to concentrate on my own task before allowing myself to give in to Giselle again and shift forward to allow my fingers better access. I use two now to explore the inner sanctum of Giselle’s pussy. I flick my tongue over her clit from left to right and bury my fingers inside her as deep as possible. Giselle responds by adding a second finger as well and the tip of her tongue circles around my clit. The angle at which she comes at me from behind seems to awaken several untouched nerve-endings inside me. Before I have a chance to consider how unfair it is that she has better access, I come again with my nose buried in her lips and my fingers inside her. I can’t keep my elbows flexed and buckle down on top of her pelvis.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her glinting unsatisfied pussy.

Giselle gently coaxes me off her and slips from underneath my trembling legs. She crawls up towards my face and smiles. “Don’t worry. We’ll work on your stamina.”

I kiss her and taste myself on her lips. I push her down and resume my position between her legs. Obviously making me come has turned her on. Wetness oozes out of her pussy and this time I leave no room for hesitation. I gorge on her juices and lap at her pussy until her hands are in my hair again, only this time they push my head down instead of pulling it up. I nibble on her lips and let my tongue slide between her folds. I focus on her clit and lather it with tongue and lips and saliva. I don’t bother easing one finger in and start with two immediately, coaxing a husky groan from her. She thrusts up to meet my strokes and the rim of her pussy is tight around my knuckles. Her inner walls contract around my fingers and suck me in.

“Yes,” she hisses.
 

 
I increase my pace while spreading my fingers. One rubs the soft ceiling inside of her and the other goes deep until her pussy clenches my knuckles together and I can barely move my fingers.

“Oh fuck,” she screams.
 

I nudge her clit with my tongue and she shivers beneath me. Her hands lift up my head and I search for her eyes.

“Who has no stamina now?” I ask as I ease my fingers out and pull myself up until we’re face to face. 

She smirks and cups my chin with both hands. “A for effort.”
 

It’s gone completely dark outside and I stretch myself against Giselle’s warm body. I rest my head on her shoulder and listen to her slow deep breaths. The air around us smells dense and lush and the only sound comes from the occasional car hissing past outside.

“Wanna go to Berghain tonight?” she asks. I don’t see her face and I can’t make out ironic inflections in her voice yet, but I presume she’s joking.

“You’ve exhausted me.”

Giselle runs her hand through my hair and stops to twirl a strand around her finger. “I’ve been having a certain fantasy of us in the dark room since I saw you exit last week.”

I pull my mouth into a smile against her naked skin. “Such inappropriate thoughts for a teacher.”

“Doesn’t everyone secretly want to fuck the teacher?”

“I can only speak for myself.” I lift myself up and turn my head. “And I sincerely hope inviting all your students up for a glass of wine is not some quirky habit you have.”

“Only the lesbians.” Her eyes glisten and mischief tugs at the corners of her mouth.
 

I know she’s toying with me but doubt gnaws at me.  “I can see the headlines already: ‘Predatory private teacher shunned after wining and dining too many lesbian pupils.’”

“You forgot the sixty-nining.”

“No I haven’t.” I shuffle upwards on my elbows. “I’ll never forget that.”

“Let’s go to Berghain tomorrow.” She pulls my face close and leans in for a kiss. “I have some more teaching to do tonight.”

THE END

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About the author

Harper Bliss has travelled the world in search of sexual satisfaction. She now resides in a hot Asian country and dedicates her time to writing down the stories that have inspired and aroused her.

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“You were dripping wet, babe,” Anna said, a smidgen of irony tainting her voice. “Yellow fever?”

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Scarlet unbuttoned Olivia’s blouse, starting at the bottom and, without touching or exposing any skin, gradually made it to the top. Before she opened the two sides of fabric that covered Olivia’s breasts like a curtain hiding something delicious, she ran her lips all the way up and down Olivia’s neck, more breathing than kissing. She fixed her gaze on Olivia again and, with a tantalisingly slow caress, escorted the blouse down Olivia’s arms until it fell to the floor
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