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When a Korean family rents a nearby Summer cottage, my dear mother volunteers me as an unpaid woodwind tutor.
My student is a pretty college freshman named Su-Yun. Actually, she’d be a knockout if she weren’t so painfully shy. She has long bangs that hang over her eyes, which she occasionally brushes to the side with her fingers long enough to give me a bashful smile.
I spend two-hours a week with Su-Yun, teaching her breathing, intonation and dynamics while her Korean dragon mother hovers in the next room.
Fortunately, Su-Yun isn’t as bashful about the rest of her body.
She wears tank tops and cut-off jeans that are so short they reveal every inch of her well-toned legs. And from time-to-time, while she’s concentrating on her finger work, I catch glimpses of white cotton panties that hug nicely rounded pussy lips.
She’s also blessed with rather full breasts that are in proportion to the rest of her lithe frame, but not so large that she needs bother with a bra. Going by the stiff little nipples that deform the fabric of her tank tops, I’d say Su-Yun is sexually aroused during about half of our flute lesson.
In early August, I arrive to find the dragon mother’s car missing. Apparently, she had called to cancel the lesson (no proper chaperone), but my mom neglected to tell me. When I knock, Su-Yun answers looking a little confused.
After a moment’s hesitation, Su-Yun invites me inside. “Follow me,” she says leading me by the hand down a narrow flight of stairs. The basement has been set up for some kind of physical therapy with a massage table and simple exercise machines.
“No flute lesson today. So, I give you present,” Su-Yun tells me, pointing to the massage table. “My thank you for helping me.”
I say it’s not necessary, but Su-Yun is adamant.
“I go out, you take off everything but underwear and get under sheet,” she instructs. “I study sports massage. You will not be disappointed.”
A couple minutes later, Im stretched out on fresh towels with a thin sheet covering my back and my brief-clad ass. “I’m ready, Su-Yun,” I call.
To my surprise, she doesn’t touch my skin directly, but massages my neck and back and legs through the cotton fabric. She wasn’t exaggerating, her touch is firm and confident. There is an elusive quality to her technique, a kind of soft intimacy that I’d never experienced before during a massage. It’s as if through the skillful use of her hands, Su-Yun has found a way to fully express herself.
She begins with my neck and shoulders and gradually works her way toward my feet. The way she kneads the sore muscles of my upper back is so relaxing that I must have drifted off to sleep.
When I awake, it’s because she’s firmly squeezing and pressing my glutes. Apparently, she isn’t happy with something, since she stops and tells me, “Too much material. I remove underwear.”
In a fluid motion she reaches under the sheet and her fingers find the elastic waist band. “Lift hips,” she instructs, patting my butt for emphasis. Somehow she slides my briefs over my hips and down my legs with her hands barely grazing my skin.
Su-Yun nonchalantly tosses them on the pile with the rest of my clothes, repositioning the sheet, and returning to work. I hadn’t realized how tense my glutes had become, and her hands do wonders to relax them. Soon I’m drifting off to sleep again while she works on my canlı bahis şirketleri thighs and knees.
A new sensation brings me back to consciousness. Su-Yun massages my feet, pulling on each toe, one at a time, and squeezing pressure points I had no idea even existed. She uses a perfectly placed knuckle to send a bolt of pain through my foot that gives way to an intense sensation of warm relaxation.
After stretching my Achilles tendons and hamstrings, she spreads my legs as wide as the table will allow, and begins working up my legs, this time with feather light touches. Su-Yun has already reached my upper calf, when I realize that she is no longer massaging me through the sheet. Rather her fingertips are directly caressing my skin. And call me crazy, but I swear she is deliberately trying to arouse me.
As she reaches my thighs, I sense the first stirrings of excitement between my legs, and am thankful that my cock is pointing downward, so if I did develop a full-blown erection, it at least will not become uncomfortably trapped between my stomach and the tabletop.
With her hands under the sheet, Su-Yun is working higher and higher along the inside of my thigh and my balls began to tingle in anticipation of being touched. But, of course, she wouldn’t do that.
But then she does.
The first time it’s so slight as to be entirely accidental. When I don’t, complain, on the next upstroke, it happens again. Only this time the contact is firmer and lingers a faction of a second longer. It goes on like this for stroke after excruciatingly arousing stroke.
At first, I try to stifle my moans, but as her fingers began to actually reach along both sides of my balls and squeeze softly, I exhale with a deep sigh of satisfaction.
Su-Yun responds by focusing her touch exclusively on the ultra-sensitive skin of my testicles and perineum, with the entirely predictable side-effect of producing a raging erection. Which means that yet another erogenous zone, my cock head this time, is within range of her talented fingertips. But she wouldn’t actually touch my hard cock, would she?
Apparently, she would.
At first her fingertip brushes the sensitive skin on the tip of my cock with no more force than a gentle gust of warm wind. Even so, my cock twitches slightly.
Then she touches me again, this time making skin-on-skin contact between her fingertip and my cock that sends a jolt of pleasure reverberating through my body. Her fingers swirl over me with feathery light caresses that send electric shock waves rippling through my stomach and chest.
Very gently, she brings her lips to my ear. “Su-Yun give pleasure?” she whispers, then blows gently just the way I’d taught to play barely audible notes on the flute.
“Mmmm!” A long, guttural moan is the only verbal response I can muster.
The ear lobes, I realize, are an often overlooked erogenous zone. But not for Su-Yun. She accompanies her miraculous finger work on my personal magic flute by brushing her warm lips against my ears and blowing ever so softly, as if playing an adagio passage. So intense is the sensation of her breath, that it’s almost a relief when at last she pulls her lips away from my ear. But a moment later, she resumes at the nape of my neck, sending a fresh volley of shivers bouncing up and down my spine.
Meanwhile, Su-Yun is alternating between rolling my balls with canlı kaçak iddaa gently vibrating fingertips, and swirling her fingers over every exposed millimeter of my cock. My sighs merge into long, loud groans and my breathing is comes in shallow bursts.
I hadn’t exactly lusted after Su-Yun that summer. A sexy single-mother named Laura Wiggins who had moved in next door had been keeping me more than satisfied. Still, there may have been times that Su-Yun featured in my masturbatory fantasies as I visualized how her small, but perfectly proportioned body might look like without clothes.
Once or twice, I may even have imagined her tiny, virginal fingers caressing my cock and balls. That it really is happening, that this beautiful Asian girl is stroking me with such a practiced, erotic touch, is now exciting me beyond the power of any fantasy.
Somewhere in the distance I heard Su-Yun’s voice.
“Lift hips,” she says for the third of fourth time, removing her fingers from between my legs long enough to press upward on my hip bone.
I follow her instructions, pulling my knees closer for support until I feel my cock lift entirely off the table top, hanging free in the gap created by my elevated butt. I am thankful for the sheet, thinking how ridiculous I must look to Su-Yun with my ass up in the air and my cock and ball sack swinging free.
Except it’s not free for long. Reaching back under the sheet, Su-Yun’s right hand grips my cock even as her left hand resumes her methodical manipulation of my balls.
At first she strokes my shaft with her thumb and forefinger in a little “O,” which just happens to be the way I prefer to masturbate myself. But as my cock begins subtly twitching and my hips began a slow undulation, I feel her grip shift.
First one hand wraps around my cock, then both. With that she begins pumping up and down in an unmistakable milking motion. In my brief sexual career, I’ve been on the receiving end of my share of hand jobs. But nothing prepared me for this.
There is something about kneeling in what is, in effect, a “missionary” position that amplifies every sensation. That coupled with Su-Yun’s sublime control of her fingers, their pressure and speed of movement, makes this moment beyond anything in my experience.
My hips are no longer merely undulating as she milks my cock, I am frantically fucking her tiny hands with long, hard thrusts. With each stroke, a wave of of hot pleasure radiates outward from the tip of my cock. From my toes to the top of my head, every nerve in my body screams for release.
At the very least I want to share these sensations with Su-Yun. Trying to lift an arm to reach behind me is awkward at best, but I do manage to place my open palm on Su-Yun’s thigh a few inches below the zipper of her cut-off jeans. Without interrupting the tempo of her movement along my cock, Su-Yun takes my hand and gently moves it back to the table.
“I do work,,” she whispers as her grip tightens and the speed of her milking motion gradually increases. On a dairy-farm field trip, I’d watched in fascination as a girl explained how she could use her fingers to mimic the way a calf sucked its mother’s teat. Apparently she knew exactly what she was doing, because within a few seconds, little explosions of white milk were rattling around in the bottom of her metal bucket.
Now Su-Yun is using a remarkably similar technique canlı kaçak bahis on my hyper-engorged cock. In addition, every once in a while, she reaches back, takes my balls in her fingers, and gives them firm squeeze. Just as I am beginning to feel as if my entire body is about to explode from an overload of sexual stimulation, Su-Yun’s finger reaches beyond my balls to my little bung hole. A moment later, her fingertip is probing where no one had ever probed before.
“Cum for me,” she commands. “Cum for little Su-Yun.”
Whether it’s her words, the sensation of her warm breath in my ear, her exquisite milking of my cock, the way her finger probes my virgin prostrate, or all of those things, at that very moment the most profound ejaculation of my life rises within me. The sensation of orgasm does not originate in my balls or my cock, rather it seems to involve my entire body. When the first pulse of semen shoots from my recoiling cock, it is as if my entire essence, everything I ever was or would become, is expelled in a series of uncontrollable spurts.
I scream in a raw, primal expression of unbearable pleasure and pain. Su-Yun covers my mouth with her hand in a vain effort to muffle my ear-shattering wail.
With that, I collapse on my stomach and the world goes black.
I return to consciousness aware of the pleasant sensation of warm lips brushing against my cheek and a cool cloth lying across my forehead.
Somehow, Su-Yun had rolled me onto my back. My cock has lost some of its tumescence, but is still erect, although it now points skyward. There is cum everywhere, on my thighs and stomach and chest and soaking into the towel that is now under my ass. Su-Yun leans over me, and nuzzles my neck and cheeks while her fingers gently caress my face.
“You okay?” she asks with genuine concern.
“Yes. But I’ve never… never felt anything so intense before.”
Su-Yun smiles and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’m glad,” is all she says.
“How? How did you learn to do this?” I want to know, gesturing to my still quivering cock and the shiny ejaculate that coats everything on or near me.
“A girl’s secret,” she whispers, helping me to my feet. Again, I try to engage her physically, cupping her ass cheeks in my hands while my lips search for hers. But Su-Yun will have none of it. Twisting out of my grip, she pushes me with a girlish giggle toward the bathroom.
I shower alone and when I step out, my clothes are neatly folded on the countertop. In the basement, the massage table had been stripped and cleaned. Su-Yun is waiting for me next to a basement door that exits through a small garden onto the lakefront. She stands on her tip toes, places a kiss on my cheek, and holds the door open as I walk into the sunlight.
The flute lessons continue until late August. Su-Yun never mentioned the massage, or even acknowledge in any way that it had happened. She is a demure and dedicated music student who practices hard and make steady progress.
As for the massage table in the basement and Su-Yun’s insanely talented hands, to this day they remains as mysterious to me as the ephemeral notes of an Asian flute solo drifting on the night wind.
“Her Magic Fingers” is the fourth chapter in the “Love Street” series that describes, more or less in chronological order, some early sexual experiences during a post-grad year at a private academy in Western PA and while in college near Boston, MA. Next up is Chapter Five, “Stacey’s Mom,” about the beautiful single-mother who transformed the summer of my 19th year into a steamy odyssey of sexual exploration.
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