Sweet: True Tales of Lesbian Desire [lesbian romanceerotica] by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Pink Smile Books
Published: 2012-07-17T22:00:00+00:00

Teacher’s Pet

_____________________________

Romy Newton

My arms tightened around her waist as she pressed on the accelerator of her tiny maroon Vespa. As we headed downtown, I pondered how the hell I’d gotten there in the first place, legs clinging to her firm thighs, erect nipples pressed into her delicate back, as we careened together down Sun Yat-sen Road.

I was the end of the summer and I was about to head back to the United States, where I was a graduate student in Asian studies. I had arrived in Taipei two and a half months earlier, exhausted from a year of intense studying and depressed from missing Terry, my boyfriend of four years. The last thing I had wanted to do was spend the hottest months of the year studying Chinese in sweltering Taipei. But when I received a grant that paid the fees to the best Chinese language school in Taipei—as well as my living expenses—it was too good an opportunity to pass up. So I packed my bags, said goodbye to Terry, and hopped on a direct flight to Taiwan.

The language program was very intense, and I had little time to do anything that summer but study. All my teachers were excellent and somewhat strict, but the teacher of my first class of the day was especially fierce. I could almost never speak a full sentence without her making me stop and repeat it again and again. Interestingly, her appearance belied her ferocity. She was petite, shorter even than my own 5’3”, and slender, with delicate, tapered fingers. Her hair was thick and black and reached her shoulders. Her eyes slanted into a wide, white smile. She was not only the fiercest of the teachers, but also the prettiest, and I realized about a week into the term that I was both terrified and attracted to her.

One morning, as she made me repeat a sentence pattern for the umpteenth time, my eyes fell on an area slightly below her neck. I was startled to find myself imagining my finger tracing a route from that point along her collarbone and down to where her low-cut lacy blouse began--her skin there looked so pale, so smooth, so soft…

I began to wonder about the roundness beneath that blouse.

“Hey—you’re spacing out!” she barked accusingly.

I leaped out of my chair and blushed furiously. “Uh…sorry,” I muttered in Chinese.

She shook her head and told me in front of the rest of the class to write five extra sentences for that night’s homework. I nodded mutely, ears aflame. But my embarrassment came not from being called out in front of the class, but from the disturbing image I’d had. Never in my life had I thought about touching a woman, and suddenly there I was thinking doing even more than that to my Chinese teacher, a woman who moved like Tinker Bell but talked like a drill sergeant. I knew nothing about her, not even whether she had a boyfriend or was married.

That night I had difficulty concentrating on my homework.

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