Chameleon ch.2

Teacher was never in a rush. Pushing was counter productive. As much as some of her students tantalize her, they were not here for her pleasure. She was here to help them find their way, to discover for themselves their sexual path. This one made her hungry. She had raw untapped sexuality just under the surface.

Her student was barely holding it in. Proper was the word that rang in her ears. When teacher had her change clothes she nearly lost control. Just the brush of fingers on her bare skin made her sex ache and pulse, and moisten. She was sure her excitement could be smelled. It frightened her but made her only want more.

Absent mindedly the students fingers brushed back and forth across her chest. It sparked nerve endings that set off a fire storm in her body. She No longer heard the words Teacher spoke. Her eyes willed the buttons that strained under Teachers full bust to burst open. She silently licked her lips as she watched Teachers red pump dangle from perfectly manicured toes.

Teacher watched her student as they spoke. Her words and body no longer in sync. It was clear that the time has come. Learning forward caused her button to finally surrender to the pressure. The pop caused both to laugh, easing the silent tension. Taking her students hands in hers she looked into her eyes and asked” do you want to touch me?”

As she exhaled the deepest sigh ever,the student felt the release of fear and whispered “yes please”. Easing closer together on the couch,her student reached up and traced the outline of her teachers face. Her eyes questioned her own movements, she was uncertain, she begged for directions.

Being the wise teacher she could read her students eyes, feel the uncertain hunger in her touch. It was time to show her the path and nudge her when necessary. Lifting her chin she gently kissed her students perfectly pouting lips. Gentle at first, letting the hunger rise with each touch. She did not lead the pace but let her pupil unknowingly take the lead. Her roll was not to direct but be a safe place for her student to explore.

Kissing led to tentative touching. Fingertips set on fire with desire. Which allowed her student to slide past her mental block and fall headlong into her deep hidden carnal desires. No words were needed. Permission had already been granted for her pupil to go wherever her passion took them.

Undressing was soft and slow, allowing each to explore. It was the first time her student had not only seen but been able to touch another woman. She did not want to miss anything. She kissed and licked and sucked at her teachers breasts. They were soft and heavy in her hands. So entranced by them she almost did not want to move on. Once naked her teacher made her stop and stand naked in front of the mirror. You need to see your beauty, her teacher said. Above all else know your value. This is your flesh to use as you wish. It is not an idle playground. But you are a temple to worship whether you share yourself with a man or woman. As she stood there She saw her beauty, she felt the power she held, and in that moment she became herself.

Turning the student took the lead, placing one hand behind the teachers waist and the other in the soft wetness of her teachers cunt. Her fingers sliding in and out of her mound. She felt powerful as the moans of want escaped teachers lips. She led her to the couch and once there began licking gently at the wet pulsing pussy before her. It was tentative to begin,but soon she was lost in the aroma and taste. She did not want to quit, but teacher new better. Your turn my dear was her directive. She started to panic,no one had ever touched her much less licked her. Her body betrayed her completely as teachers tongue skilfully tasted her. In an instant she came. Her body rolling with pleasure and shame. Her head trying to take from her the joy of her first lesbian orgasm. Tears escaped as she felt shame at her own desire.

Teacher scooped her into her arms and held her. Letting her ride the emotions. Here you were encouraged to feel everything so you made educated choices. As her tears subsided teacher asked,”do you wish to continue?” “Again please” was the answer.

The night rolled into one orgasm after another as her student gave and received. Each one teaching her more about her own body and what felt good and what she did not enjoy. It gave her words to go with her desire. It gave her power because knowledge is power. Eventually exhausted, teacher dressed her student and called her a taxi. As they waited they talked about the possibility of future lessons. But teacher encouraged her to find like minded friends and to embrace what ever sexual choices she felt moved by. Kissing her goodby she smiled because she had just witnessed the birth of a woman.

Lessons will follow. I am not a writer. I am a story teller. So please excuse the errors. I am not hung up on perfection. Nothing in life is….

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Being a sexual chameleon

Damn, she sighed, why am I even awake? After last night I should be sound asleep until at least noon. She smiled thinking about the night before. Her job was, far from normal. It was not what her family might have chosen for her, in fact if they knew they would lose their minds, but she loved it.

It took some time for her to find her to calling. After years of a discontented marriage, a career that she loved but was ready to walk away from, and finally becoming comfortable in her own skin she realized something. She likes sex! No this was not a surprise. She had always liked sex but she had also always had this fascination with roleplay. The older she got the more she realized that everyone had that something that made them tick. That thing that made their engine rev like nothing else. It had started out innocently enough she read tons of stories she played with a few friends mostly she was navigating herself trying on different personas to see what stuck. She knew that honestly she what’s a cock sucker okay maybe a pussy licker to but she loved giving oral like nothing else. it literally caused her body to stream like a fountain and whatever was underneath her was going to have a puddle.

After some time and great word of mouth she began to accumulate quite a following. She hated the word client. It sounded so formal. What happened here was an exploration of one’s sexual self. She helped people explore and find their own sexual self.

Everyone was different. Some were dominant, others submissive. There were pets, babies,cos players. Players, and virgins. Some wanted to explore bisexuality, anal play or bondage. Her favorite were the couple’s exploring the art of sharing. It always amazed her how little people really new about their own sexual desires. And how hard they found it to talk about what they wanted. And yet she knew that there was a difference between sex during exploration and the sexual connectivity with that someone special. Even she lost her words with her King. Her desire was to please him. Often she felt she fell short. Ugh… Helping others explore was always easier. She lost herself in the play. Becoming what they needed seemed easy. It was exhilarating to dive into conversation with a client, to pick out what they would not admit to, but secretly wanted. To help them find their words and to then put it into action. To perform their desires like a passion play. She became a sexual chameleon, morphing into what ever was needed.

Last night had been long and slow. A younger woman who had never been active and was torn with lesbian cravings. Her body was at war with her clerical upbringing. They talked for hours about faith and desire. About finding one’s own space and peace. She had chosen her outfit with great care. A pencil skirt, classic red pumps, and a silk button down blouse. Authoritative with an edge. Her bust strained at the buttons. Red lace bra peaked out and matched her cheeky boy short lace panties. They were soft to the touch and created hunger to the eyes. Her young client was clearly uncomfortable in her own skin as she wore leggings, slip on shoes and a shapeless sweater. Nothing about her screamed sex, it did not even whisper. A visit to the closet was step one. Favorite colors found. Fabrics that enticed her fingertips. A short shift dress that grazed a soft thigh, and a deeply v’d neck line that showed the full upper curve of pert young breasts. Bare feet and an ankle chain were the perfect combination. Innocent but flirty.

The teacher and student taking each step as it came. Clothes, hair, makeup,perfume,how to walk and sit. How to listen with interest when someone spoke. Learning to lean in, the magic of a properly timed touch. It is true that some of it was not necessary, but they were painting a canvas, setting the scene for her young student. A place where she felt comfortable and confident. Where she could let herself feel rather than think.

There was more to come. Just what? I guess you will have to check back in to see.

I know

I know you like I have known no one else. I know the map of your face, the wicked smile that shows up when you are full of mischief. I know how your eyes sparkle when you are excited. I also know the fire in them when you are angry. My fingersĀ  know every inch of your skin. I am pretty sure that I could pick you out blindfolded simply touching your hand.

You know how my funny brain works it wanders down paths no one else would take. It can go from a bright sunshiny place to the darkest of caves in an instant. I had a moment the other day wondering what life would be like without you in my world. I came to the conclusion that after being the calm and responsible adult and putting all of our business in order but the world would probably find me curled up on your grave no longer breathing because I could not live without you.

I never understood what it meant to have someone else be your other half but now I do. I’m pretty sure that you are the half of me that is my heart and my lungs. Without you there is simply no existence.

So often people try to make life some fairytale, some version of a storybook Romance, that is not life. Life is filled with work barking dogs laundry dishes family obligations chores. And yet somewhere in there we find those moments that are magical. The ones where a simple kiss sweeps you off your feet. To me those moments are the frosting on the cake of life.

Your goal in life it seems is to make sure that everyone is happy. It is part of your soul that I find Sweet and endearing. It is also part of you that I find frustrating because continuous happiness is simply illogical. I believe that the moments that hurt are the ones that make us stronger. They are the building blocks of true love, of lasting relationships. They make us stronger. They force us to take off the rose-colored glasses and to communicate even when it’s hard. And we do. That is why I know we will always be together, because we choose to put in the work.

I love you my king