Private Tutoring
Akiko’s apartment was small but meticulously kept, the air thick with the sensual sweetness of jasmine—an intentional intoxicating atmosphere. She welcomed you with a smile that promised secrets, her silk dress clinging to her body like a sinful skin. The deep crimson fabric accentuated her curves, its golden embroidery catching the light with each subtle movement, the daring open sides teased glimpses of rounded curves beneath and flashes of pale skin spilling free. Her round glasses magnified the desire in her gaze as she gestured toward the side room, her voice timid, yet suggestive. “We’ll study here.” But the way her longing gaze traced your body—desirous, unquenched—suggested she had a far more immersive curriculum in mind.
Grammar & Desire
For weeks, you sat across from her, struggling to focus on proper verb usage while her bare legs shifted, and flashes of smooth, creamy skin distracted. She bit her lip as she placed her petite hand over yours, tracing kanji characters, her fingers moving with agonizing slowness—each stroke a silent invitation. Every time she leaned forward, her breasts strained against the silk, threatening to escape the confines of her dress. You caught the faintest scent of her arousal—warm, sweet, bawdy. The air between you thickened with unspoken desire, each lesson a torturous dance of stolen glances and lingering touches.
Mother Tongue
The evening sun bled through the curtains, painting Akiko in liquid amber as she closed her textbook with trembling hands. A breath—two—before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I have a request.” Her lashes lifted, revealing dark eyes that held something new: a flicker of hunger beneath their usual innocence. The air between you thickened. “I want… a boyfriend.” A pause. Her throat worked as she swallowed. “But I don’t know how to kiss. Or—” Her gaze dropped to your mouth, then lower, lingering just long enough to scorch. “—more.” Her dark eyes flickered up, equal parts innocence and sin. The word curled between you, heavy with unspoken need. You forced a calm nod. Your pulse hammered, but you kept your voice steady. “What are you asking, Akiko?” She leaned forward. “I need lessons. Will you teach me?”
Oral Proficiency
After the next week's lesson, the textbooks lay forgotten. Akiko knelt before you, her lips parted, her chest rising fast. You cradled her face, your thumb brushing the soft curve of her lower lip. She shivered. “Like this,” you murmured before sealing your mouth over hers. The first kiss was slow, deliberate. She gasped into it, her fingers clutching your shirt as you mapped the warmth of her lips, the tentative flick of her tongue. You coaxed her deeper, guiding her until her sighs turned ragged, until she arched against you with a whimper. When you finally pulled back, her lips glistened, her pupils blown wide with want. “Again,” she begged, already dragging you back. This time, she met you with fire.
Cultural Immersion
Her dress slithered to the floor with a wicked whisper, revealing the body you’d dreamed of for weeks. No barriers, no shame—just smooth skin, her nipples erected tight under your gaze. Your hands mapped the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, before dragging her against you. Her gasp as you palmed her breast sent a jolt straight to your cock. “This is how a man touches a woman,” you growled, rolling her nipple between your fingers, watching her arch into your touch like a flower seeking the sun.
Phonetic Seduction
Your hand closed gently over hers, guiding her trembling fingers to your belt. She hesitated, her breath shallow—until you showed her the way, your voice a low murmur against her ear. “Like this.” The buckle gave way, then the whisper of fabric sliding free, and suddenly her palm met your aching length and the heat of your arousal. “Stroke me,” you instructed.
Her eyes flickered wide, lips parting in surprise—but only for a moment. Curiosity flared into thirst, her touch growing bolder as you groaned approval. “Yes, just like that.” You guided her grip, slow and firm. “Now look at me.”
Her gaze lifted, dark with need, and the way she watched you—studying every hitch of your breath, every twitch of pleasure—sent fire licking down your spine. Each pull of her hand grew bolder, as she learned the rhythm that made you throb.
Her own arousal was soaking for it, her thighs slick with proof of how much she loved her lessons. “You’re perfect,” you growled, tangling your fingers in her hair. “Now let me show you what else you can do.”
Total Fluency
When you finally pushed her onto the futon, her body trembled—not with fear, but desperate need. Your hands slid up her thighs, savoring the way her breath hitched at your touch. "Look at you," you growled, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of her knee. “Already so horny.” Then you sheathed yourself inside her in one slow, relentless stroke. Her tight heat clenched around you like a velvet fist, her whimper dissolving into a gasp. Then, a held breath. You stayed still, letting her adjust—letting her feel every inch of you. “Breathe,” you ordered, your voice rough. She obeyed.
As you finally moved, her cry of pleasure was music to your ears. She gasped, nails digging into your back as you moved, her innocence unraveling into pure, shuddering tension. Her legs locked around your hips as if she never wanted to let go. “Fuck, you are incredible,” you groaned. A shudder ripped through her. “I feel—I need—” You chuckled inside. “Not yet, sweetheart. Don't you dare cum yet.” Her breath came in ragged bursts. “Please—” she begged, voice trembling. “Please what?” you teased, slowing just to watch her squirm. Your lips brushed her ear. “Say it,” you commanded. “Please, let me cum.”
You smirked, driving into her harder, your weight pinning her down, fully resting your heavy frame on her diminutive body. She struggled for air. “Okay, now! Cum for me, sweetheart.” Her back arched, a shattered moan tearing from her throat as she came—hard. “Oh—God—” She gasped, eyes rolling back. “Good girl,” you whispered warm into her ear. “Keep going. Don’t stop,” she pleaded. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not when every gasp, every desperate cry, proved she’d never felt anything like this. Her purity crumbled beneath your demands. “We’re just getting started, sweetheart.”
Lingua Iaponica
After, she lay panting against your chest, her skin glistening, her body still humming from the aftershocks. Your massive hand laid claim to her back side, savoring the way she melted into your touch.
“Did I… do well?” she asked shyly, her voice spent with desire, her breath still ragged. You smirked, tilting her chin up. “For a first lesson? Exceptionally, sweetheart.” Her giggle was breathless, cheeks flushed. “I had a good teacher.”
“Mm, and you were an excellent student.” You thumbed her lower lip, relishing her shiver. “But don’t think this means you’ve graduated.” Her eyes darkened, lips parting in anticipation and wonder. “There’s more?”
You cradled her cheeks and looked at her intently, deep into her eyes. “So much more,” you professed.
Advanced Placement
As you left that night, her kiss lingered on your lips—soft, eager, hungry. Her fingers clutched your shirt, holding you close just a second longer. “You’re leaving?” she pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a way that made you consider staying. “Only for now,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But I expect you to be ready for me next time.”
She bit her lip, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’ll study before then.” The promise in her whisper sent heat straight to your cock. “Study?” you echoed, voice rough. She nodded, her smile slow and wicked. “I want to impress you.” You groaned, dragging her in for one last searing kiss. “Fuck, sweetheart—you already do.”
As the door closed behind you, your pulse still raced. A streetlamp flickered. A slow, knowing smile curved your lips as you ran your fingers across the rough scrape of stubble along your jawline.
Language lessons would never be the same.