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Cuckold gets treated.

. . "

I put a finger to his lips to stop him. "Dr. O, you don't need to say anything. I have grown at least a little wiser over the last few months. I've spread my wings and maybe at times I've flown a bit too high and gotten burned. But one reason I wanted to come back here was not just to show off what I've accomplished. I knew you'd be proud of me, but your approval isn't what I'm after. I wanted to thank you for the faith you've shown in me, and for the love that you instilled in me--for music, for beauty, and for life, too."

"Sarah," he started, but my finger stopped him again.

"Please let me finish. I've learned some things about myself, but also some things about you. Things I couldn't see or understand before, but which I can now, or at least I think I can. And I think that I need to find out how true those things really are, that I owe myself that discovery. And I think that you need to be a part of that discovery, and that it will be a good thing for both of us."

I seemed to have shocked him into silence yet again. He wasn't breathing and I got a little worried. I tapped his nose to bring him out of wherever he was and said, "Dr. O, I'd feel a lot better if you'd start breathing again."

He let out a big whooshing sound and that made him laugh. I laughed too and soon we were pretty much out of control with laughing. He knocked something off his desk and I just automatically leaned down to pick it up. He must have leaned over too, because he gave me a pretty good whack on the head. I grimaced and put my hand on the sore spot. He put his hand there too and said something apologetic. But I didn't really hear the words because suddenly all I was aware of was his searing touch. My bump was completely forgotten as I took his hand in mine and held it in front of me.

I remembered admiring those hands in my lessons. They were so sure, so confident, so able to express themselves. But now I saw something else in them, a beauty of form, strength, and elegance. I traced my fingers over the muscles and tendons, explored the form of the joints, felt the texture of the skin. This hand before me was just so sensual. I couldn't help but kiss it and taste it. When I licked between his fingers he gasped. I looked at him, more determined than ever to find in him what I felt sure was there.

As I pulled him towards me he tried to protest, but my finger silenced him a third and final time. I touched his lips, caressed his check, and finally brought our lips together. He was so soft and so gentle. The other boys I'd been with had mainly just wanted to stick their tongue down my throat, but now I was discovering what a kiss could be. It was like playing my nocturne actually--the slightest pressure is what expressed the greatest passion.

Whatever hesitation Dr. O. had been feeling, he seemed over it now. He held me tightly, even as he continued to kiss and nuzzle me with the greatest tenderness. I began to feel a fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach which quickly turned to a wonderful warmth and tingling between my legs.

He guided us over to the piano bench and sat down. I straddled his leg and boldly rubbed my knee against his crotch. (Where had I found this raunchy streak?) I could feel his hard-on against me which turned my nice warm tingling into a hot flood. I kissed him deeply as I wrapped both legs around his waist and began rotate my hips into his. I had an itch to scratch. One part of me couldn't believe how forward, how naughty I was being. This was my piano teacher for gawds sake! But another part of me, the part that was firmly in control now, didn't care a flying fuck. I was so taken by the moment, so absorbed by pure animal passion that nothing could deter me now.

I could feel his hands roaming over my back and neck and butt.

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