Jessica couldn’t remember the last time another person had seen her breasts. Her nipples hardened in response to that thought, and even more as she felt the cool air. Miss Ashdown’s voice was soft in her ear. “You can almost hear a gasp from the back of the concert hall as the object of your desire leans forwards to take in the sight of your naked chest. He can’t believe he isn’t dreaming. You want him to imagine what it would feel like to touch your skin, to feel your thin waist within his firm hands.”
Jessica’s breath shuddered again. Miss Ashdown, standing behind her, took Jessica’s hands within her own and moved them up to rest on her stomach, and then slide up along her sides as she breathed in. Miss Ashdown pressed Jessica’s hands onto her hips and slid them up and down her sides with the slow rhythm of each inhale and exhale.
Jessica imagined herself, standing on the stage, barely covered by her underwear, running her hands over her hips and stoking the fire of her passion. She suddenly felt incredibly sexual.
“You act as if you’re alone; this is the most private moment as you ready yourself to give everything to your playing,” Miss Ashdown’s soft voice continued. “You want nothing to come between you and your music.”
As she said this, and as Jessica exhaled, Miss Ashdown’s fingers, flat on top of Jessica’s, slipped into the white knickers. Jessica felt the fabric sliding over her hips as their interlocked hands pushed them down onto the floor. Jessica’s breath shuddered again but somehow she resisted the impulse to try to cover herself. She concentrated on the image of the concert hall, of standing naked on the stage as if no-one was there.