Clara had never done anything like this before.
She sat on the edge of the hotel bed, legs crossed tightly, her heart beating like a drum in her ears. Outside, the city was buzzing horns honking, people shouting, life spilling out into the night. But in here, the air felt thick, charged, intimate. The curtains were drawn, the bedside lamp casting a soft, amber glow over the room.
She checked her phone for the hundredth time.
8:07 p.m.
Her escort was late.
Her palms were damp, her mind cycling through what she'd written in her inquiry email: "I'm inexperienced with women. I want to learn. Please be gentle."
The thought of those words now made her cheeks burn. She'd never even kissed a girl before, let alone done anything more. But she'd been curious for as long as she could remember stealing glances at her female classmates in the locker room, watching movies with too much attention on the women rather than the men, imagining what it might be like to be touched by soft hands instead of rough ones.
A soft knock on the door jolted her.
Clara's stomach flipped. She stood, smoothed down her dress, and opened the door.
The woman standing there was not at all what Clara had expected. She was taller, dressed in sleek black trousers and a fitted silk blouse that dipped just enough to hint at cleavage. Her hair was a glossy cascade of brunette waves, framing a face with sharp cheekbones and a mouth made for secrets.
"Clara?" the woman asked, her voice low and velvety.
Clara nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes."
The woman smiled slowly and stepped inside, moving with feline grace. She set down her small leather bag on the dresser. "I'm Elise," she said, turning to look Clara over her gaze lingering, deliberate, like she was reading Clara's body the way one might read an erotic novel.
Clara felt herself flushing from the neck up. "Hi."
"Relax," Elise said, her tone both commanding and soothing. "This isn't an exam. It's a lesson. And I promise you'll enjoy it."
That word lesson sent a shiver straight through Clara.
Elise took off her coat, revealing the curve of her hips beneath the blouse, and crossed the room to stand directly in front of Clara. The faint scent of her perfume something floral with a whisper of spice wrapped around them both.
"First rule," Elise murmured, tilting Clara's chin up with a single finger. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."
Clara's breath hitched, but she obeyed, meeting those deep, knowing eyes.
Elise smiled faintly. "Good girl."
Something about the way she said it made Clara's knees weaken.
Elise's fingertips traced along Clara's arm, so lightly that it was almost a ghost of a touch. "We'll start slow," she said. "I want you to notice every sensation. This isn't about rushing. It's about learning how a woman's body can be a symphony if you let it."
Clara nodded, swallowing hard.
Elise guided her toward the bed and had her sit again. She knelt in front of her, running her hands up Clara's calves, over her knees, and then stopping just shy of her thighs. "May I?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Clara breathed.
The first kiss was on her knee gentle, testing. The second was higher, lingering. Clara's pulse quickened. Elise's hands pressed against her thighs, opening them just a fraction more.
"You're trembling," Elise said, almost amused.
"I've never…" Clara's voice broke.
"I know," Elise murmured. "That's why I'm here."
Her lips traced a path up Clara's inner thigh, not touching anywhere that counted, and the restraint was maddening. Clara's breath came in short, shallow bursts. Every nerve in her body was awake, waiting, wanting.
Elise eventually moved upward, her hands sliding to Clara's waist as she leaned in to kiss her slowly at first, testing, then deeper, her tongue coaxing Clara's lips open.
It was unlike any kiss Clara had ever known. No hurry, no force just heat, softness and a deliberate exploration that made her toes curl.
Elise pulled back slightly, their mouths still inches apart. "Tell me what you want to learn."
Clara's head was spinning, her body already aching in unfamiliar ways. "Everything."
Elise's smile was pure sin. "Then, my sweet student, we have a long night ahead."
What followed was a slow, methodical unraveling of Clara's inhibitions. Elise teaching her not just where to touch, but how to listen to the body's responses, how to read every gasp and shift and tremor. They moved between soft teasing and deeper, bolder touches, Elise encouraging her to try, to explore, to understand pleasure as something both given and received.
By the end, Clara wasn't trembling from nerves anymore. She was trembling from bliss.
As she lay there afterward, Elise brushing her hair back from her face, Clara realized that this hadn't been just an education, it had been an awakening.
And she knew, deep down, she'd never forget her first teacher.