Chapter 2

Maybe it was the thrill of being in my student's home, but I was already wet and aching with need. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, losing myself in the frantic, desperate motions of my hand as I chased a release.

Halfway through, I faintly heard the sound of a door being pushed open. However, I was too immersed in the haze of pleasure to care.

I could almost smell the sharp scent of Samson's sweat, and I imagined a vivid image of his toned, shirtless torso. I pictured him pressed against me, my hands roaming over his chest, watching beads of sweat slide down his skin with every thrust.

I could not stop the moan that escaped my lips. "Harder... Samson, yes... just like that..."

A powerful orgasm ripped through me, leaving me slumped and breathless against the toilet tank. I slowly opened my dazed eyes, and it took a moment for the dizzying pleasure to fade enough for me to see the figure standing in the doorway.

I heard a loud gulp as the man's Adam's apple bobbed. He was just staring, his eyes glued to me.

I let out a sharp scream, finally recognizing that the person in the doorway was the very same Samson I had just been fantasizing about. I yanked my hand out from under my skirt and pulled it down, my mind reeling with sheer panic and humiliation.

"W...what are you doing here?!" I stammered.

Samson seemed to snap back to himself, the tips of his ears turning bright red. He awkwardly explained, "I couldn't find you after my workout. Then I heard...strange noises coming from the bathroom."

His words made my face burn so hot that I could not even look at him. I had been moaning his name while pleasuring myself in his house, and he had seen everything.

I had no idea how I could ever face him again.

"Just go and wait outside. I'll be out in a minute to start your lesson," I managed to say.

He mumbled, "Okay."

He almost sounded reluctant.

I glanced up at him curiously, and the sight shocked me. A very prominent bulge was straining against the fabric of his gray sweatpants. The size of it was staggering, and I could not help but wonder how it would feel in me.

Then, it hit me that he had actually gotten an erection from this!

I instinctively looked up, and our eyes met. He had caught me staring at his crotch, and his face flushed a deep red before he quickly turned and walked out.

I hurriedly washed my hands, noticing that the moisture had pruned my fingertips, as another wave of heat washed over me. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, realizing how my cheeks were flushed and how my gaze was burning with desire.

I could not help but wonder if it was this very sight of me that had made him hard.

The thought sent a fresh pulse of heat straight to my core, and I shifted my legs uncomfortably. I scolded myself silently, forcing the dirty thoughts away before walking out.

Samson was already seated at the piano, still shirtless, with sweat glistening on his skin.

I walked over, trying my best to act normal. "Play the piece I taught you last time. From the beginning."

"Okay," he replied, still not looking at me. His ears were bright red, and he began to play with his head lowered.

"You've made a lot of mistakes. You don't usually make this many mistakes. Are you still not in a good headspace?" I asked.

Thinking about how Samson had just gone through a breakup, I knew it would not be easy for him to bounce back. My tone softened as I said, "Alright, let's go over it one more time."

I leaned over from behind, my body pressing against his back so I could place my hands over his on the keys. "Don't move your fingers. Just let me guide you. Pay attention."

"Okay," he mumbled, his voice strangely hoarse.

After I guided him through the piece, I noticed he was sweating even more. His damp back had soaked through my thin dress, making my bra and the outline of my 36D chest clearly visible against the fabric.

"Why are you sweating so much? Are you feeling unwell?" I asked, reaching out instinctively to feel his forehead.

His eyes were a little red as he whispered, "Ms. Browne, I don't feel good."

"What do you mean? Where does it hurt?"

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and stood up, pressing my palm firmly against the hard bulge in his pants.

My eyes went wide. It was huge.

"Ms. Browne, it hurts here. It's been up since I saw you."