School for Nurses (15 page)

She laughed out loud. ‘You're kidding, right?'

‘I can't think of any other reason to practice,' he replied seriously.

‘I could punish you if you don't!' she snapped, outraged.

‘You'll punish me if I don't? How?' He smiled lazily.

‘I could punish you by not letting you come back here ever again, and then you wouldn't see my breasts at all, not even through my blouse!'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘And if I do practice?'

‘We'll see.' She had crossed her arms over her chest during this exchange, and now the way his smile deepened made her cross her legs as well.

Unfortunately, she didn't have another student coming that afternoon, and perhaps that is why - as she told herself later - things got out of hand. That is what she told herself, anyway. Paul laid down his terms. He said he would play for an hour, and after that, she would pay up.

‘Just like that?' She was almost laughing it was so outrageous to be bargaining with one of her students like this.

‘You're the one who wants me to practice,' he pointed out. ‘And that's just for starters.'

‘Oh? What's for afters?'

‘You wanted to punish me for not practising, didn't you?'

‘Yes,' she answered slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

‘We'll have to think of something if I play for more than an hour,' he replied. ‘What's the opposite of you punishing me?'

‘It's me even letting you think about seeing me topless,' she said, and rising from the seat, she left the room.

She went shopping while he practiced. She bought a new pair of panties and some fresh razors. When she returned, even before she walked through the door, she could hear the piano. He was still playing.

She went into the bathroom, shaved beneath her arms, dabbed on some perfume, and gazed at her face in the mirror. ‘He's not a date,' she scolded herself out loud, ‘he's an eighteen-year-old boy. He couldn't care less what you smell like, let alone if you're smooth. How would he ever know, anyway?' And she stuck her tongue out at herself. Then, with a start, she realised the hour must be up because he had stopped playing.

Almost shyly, she opened the bathroom door and walked back into the main room.

‘Do you want to hear me play?' he asked. His eyes focused on her intently, as if he noticed something was different about her, and suddenly he smiled.

She blushed. ‘I heard you,' she said.

‘Go on then.'

‘With what?' she asked innocently.

‘Show me how smooth you shaved your armpits. Go on, put your arms over your head and I'll help you take off your dress.'

‘How did you know I had shaved myself?' She was astonished, and excited by how perceptive he obviously was.

‘Well, I didn't think you'd shaved your pussy for me Cora, not on the first date.'

His smile was maddening. ‘I can't,' she said simply.

‘Then I won't take the exam.'

She looked at him, at his tousled blond hair. Just a few years ago he had been a child, now he was a man waiting to take charge of something, of someone, of her.

‘You're the one who's worried about your job,' he reminded her. ‘I don't have a job playing the piano, you have a job teaching me.'

‘What if I don't want to?' she asked softly.

‘You'll do as you're told.' His voice was equally soft, but the unquestionably firm note in it thrilled her. She found herself grasping the hem of her short skirt, and she felt that unmistakable current of excitement in the pit of her stomach again. She wasn't wearing a bra, and suddenly she was tempted to pull down the low neckline of her dress and let him look at her breasts to his heart's content.

‘No,' he said when he saw what she was doing, ‘take it off.'

‘We didn't say anything about...'

‘Do you want me to play, or not?'

‘This is blackmail.'

‘What do you call offering to give me what I want in exchange for what you want?'

‘A reasonable exchange,' she retorted.

‘Then get your kit off.'

She felt her pussy getting dangerously warm as she turned her back on him, and pulled her zipper down. She shrugged her delicate shoulders, and the dress slid off her slowly. She felt the breeze wafting in through the windows caress her bare breasts, and then her bottom in the skimpy panties she was wearing. They were made of a nearly transparent silk, and she knew his eyes were on them.

‘Turn around, Cora. Don't be shy.'

She turned back to face him, one arm crossed over her bosom and one hand curved over her mound to hide the soft bulge of her bush inside the thin panties.

‘Put your hands on your head,' he instructed. ‘Don't you want me to see how close you shaved?'

‘I don't have to play your games, Paul. I'm your teacher.'

‘You won't be a teacher for long if I fail.'

Slowly, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, she raised the hand over her panties to her head, and saw his eyes glance at the shadow of her bush showing through the fine silk. His gaze lingered on the gentle swell of her mound stretching the delicate material before it travelled slowly up to her breasts again. ‘Now the other hand,' he said.

She smiled sarcastically and stuck her tongue out at him, but she obeyed him and put her other hand on her head. Her breasts grew taut and she felt completely exposed as her nipples stiffened beneath his stare.

He reached out to touch her.

‘Oh, no you don't!' She stepped back out of his reach. ‘You'd better pass with flying colours, or I'll tell your mother!'

‘We still haven't settled what the opposite of you punishing me is,' he reminded her quietly, and gathering up his sheet music, he left.

She had to take a hot bath, during which she teased her clitoris into three very hot orgasms, before she felt more like herself again.

 

The morning of the exam, Cora sat around her flat drumming her fingers. She had tried not to think about him since that last lesson, but she couldn't help herself. She hadn't exactly minded showing him her breasts and her pussy, not really. To be honest, she was thinking about that afternoon a lot, and thinking about it still got her excited. He
was
eighteen after all, and his eyes were so intensely grey...

The doorbell rang.

She walked to the intercom expecting the postman, and froze when she heard Paul's voice saying, ‘It's me.'

‘What are you doing here?' she nearly shouted. ‘You should be in school for the exam!'

‘Let me up. I've got something for you.'

Unable to think straight, because she was so surprised, she told herself, she pressed the buzzer and let him in.

 

Paul stood in her doorway speaking words she couldn't quite understand. ‘Can't do it,' he said, ‘got a job lined up in a guitar place. It's boring playing piano. I can't be arsed, frankly.'

‘What have you got for me?' she asked softly.

‘It's funny you should ask that, Cora. I've brought you a music stand.'

‘But you're giving up music,' she said stupidly.

‘It's got other uses, Cora. I thought you'd want to pay up the other part of our agreement.'

‘Paul, please, be serious.'

‘I am being serious, this is all very serious. The piano exam is just for you, not for me. None of it's for me.'

‘I care about you, Paul.'

‘You care about the piano.' He looked her over. She was wearing the same short, tight dress he had last seen her in, and once again she had decided against a bra.

‘What do you want?' she asked faintly. She could feel it all falling apart around her as she stared at the music stand gleaming in his hand. What on earth had he brought it for?

‘I want some reason to go on,' he said.

‘I'm not sleeping with you,' she stated bluntly.

‘Why not?'

‘You're my student,' she replied weakly.

‘I've left school. This is the last exam, and I'm not taking it.'

‘You're too young.'

‘I've been eighteen for six months now.' He shook his head. ‘No excuse works, does it, Miss Brown? Don't you want to know why I brought you this present?'

‘Come in,' she said.

 

The exam was at twelve. She let him in the house at ten o'clock, and to her vague amazement, she was naked by ten-thirty. She kept saying it was wrong, but her own body was against her. Even as her mouth made quiet arguments her hips shifted on the sofa towards him, her legs lolled open for him, and her tummy was exquisitely alive with increasingly excited butterflies again. She wanted to be naked. She wanted to be bare and open and exposed in front of this young man. She wanted to offer herself to him. She rose from the couch, and he unfolded the music stand before her.

‘What's that for?' she asked dreamily.

‘You'll see,' he replied.

She shrugged, and reached under her skirt.

He watched her slip her panties down her slim hips, and asked her to push her bum out towards him as she brought them down around her thighs. She did as he asked shyly, turning her back on him so he could touch her naked bottom. The breeze blowing in through the open windows cooled her skin even as his hand made her whole body feel warm. The cheeks of her buttocks felt as though they too were blushing as he caressed them. ‘Go take the exam,' she said, ‘and when you've finished, I'll...'

‘You'll what, Cora?'

‘I'll trust you,' she whispered.

‘You'll trust me to take the exam?' he asked. ‘Or you don't care at all about me and this is just whoring?'

She turned and undid the top button on his black jeans, and then the next, and the next. A moment later, she was completely naked and his jeans had fallen to the floor with a clink of loose change. The skin of his thighs was soft and warm against hers as he held her close, and ran his hands down her back to cup her bare bottom. ‘What do you want me to do?' she asked softly, kissing his neck as he slipped his fingers into the knot of hair at the nape of her neck, and freed it.

‘Bend over and hold the music stand,' he whispered in her ear.

‘What?' She pulled away from him.

‘This is the opposite of you punishing me,' he explained.

‘What are you going to do to me?'

He reached down, and picked up one of his discarded trainers.

‘Best get it over with quickly, Cora. You'll like what I've got for you after you take your medicine, I promise.'

Her face red with shame, Cora found herself bending over the music stand. The metal was cold, and she felt the cool spokes of the music rest pressing against her nipples. The breeze wafting in through the windows played over her pert buttocks, which felt exquisitely exposed as Paul lined himself up behind her, and swished the running shoe through the air near her hips. ‘You won't hurt me will you?' she pleaded.

‘Only enough to make you take it seriously,' he replied. ‘Isn't that what you told me? You've got to

suffer for your art?'

‘I meant practice...'

‘Well, I'm going to practice on you.' He thrust his free hand between her thighs, and she felt his astonishingly skilled fingers reaching for her clit and playing with it very much as she herself had after his last lesson. He teased her and she felt herself getting wetter and hotter and bucking her pussy back towards his hand despite herself. ‘That's it, Miss Brown. I knew you'd like it if you let yourself go.' He took his hand away, and brought the trainer down hard across her left cheek with a loud smack.

It burned like fire. She couldn't believe what a sting the rubber sole packed. ‘Oh!' she cried in distress. ‘You can't do that again!'

‘Then I couldn't possibly take the exam. You don't really care, do you? If you can't take a little pain for your art, why should I?'

Cursing him through her clenched teeth, she bent over again to take her punishment. The trainer hissed through the air as she caught her breath, then seared her flesh again with another loud smack. ‘Oh!' she howled. ‘Oh!'

‘Be quiet,' Paul muttered. ‘Or I'll have to tell people you're neglecting your students.'

To her shame, Paul stuffed her panties in her mouth when she kept protesting, and then pointed at the music stand until she braced herself on it again, and bent over for more punishment. He subjected her to six more blows from the excruciatingly hard rubber sole, three to each one of her flaming cheeks. Then she was rubbing her sore bottom and blinking furious tears out of her eyes as she asked him to leave.