My Teacher's a Nudist?!

"Sure!" I could use a bit of a break from reading. "Lead the way," I offered chivalrously, taking the chance to stare at her ass as we walked over, holding my wrist to keep myself from stepping up and spanking it hard.

We arrived just as the previous players were finishing up. The sun was already setting. In another two moves, it was checkmate, and the game was over. They shook hands and walked away, leaving us alone. "You take white," Vivian directed me as we reset the board. "So how about we make this interesting, John?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about the loser has to give the winner a massage? A real one. I've got some oil in my bungalow."

"Today's wasn't good enough?"

"Good enough," she said, lugging her queen into position, "but not nearly long enough. Isn't it always?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. How about it?"

I surveyed the board before me: my army against hers. If I won, Vivian would give me a long, slow, luxurious massage. If I lost, I'd be forced to massage her naked body with oil, alone in her bungalow. I eyed my king. Maybe I could just resign right now and skip straight to the massaging part... Then again, how could I turn down a chance to have Vivian massage me, her hands roaming my naked body? Didn't seem like I could lose. Was there an antonym for Zugzwang? "Deal."

Our soldiers were in position. She crossed her arms, propping up her breasts and emphasizing cleavage deep enough for a team of spelunkers to get lost in for days. "Your move, John."

I opened with e4, my preferred first move. Not adventurous, but I was playing for a win, not a flashy game, and I had no idea how strong a player Vivian was. The pawn had more heft than I had expected. Its bottom was weighted. It gave each move an appropriate gravitas. She replied with the French Defense and we moved into the Advanced Variation.

"So we already talked about me. Tell me more about you, Mister College," she said, bringing out her queen early, to b6. She was aggressive, and maybe foolhardy. Only time would tell which. Either way, she wanted to win that massage...

"What do you want to know?" I asked. Our knights rode forwards, galloping towards the clashing of swords and the coming bloodbath.

"Just about you. I mean, I know you're circumcised..." she observed with a smirk. "But how are you enjoying college so far? You're going for statistics, right?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling. She remembered... "It's great so far. I love being on my own. The campus is gorgeous, the food is amazing, I have lots of great classmates. I mean, there's this one kid whose personal mission is to ask the most idiotic question every lecture, but besides him, I like my classmates."

"Oh, a Question Kid. There's always one. 'Uh, professor, by warmer, do you mean an increase in temperature?' What else has that word ever meant in the history of the universe? Ugh. And his stupid, giant backpack... Sorry, I'm getting off-topic. What made you pick statistics?" she asked.

I moved my bishop forward, pinning her knight before her king, hobbling it and keeping it from being a threat. I kept my eyes on the board. "Well, to be honest...you did. I really enjoyed learning it from you for Math Team. I guess I liked how it explained these big, confusing, complex things so well. I started learning some more on my own online, and I found out that I liked it a lot and was pretty good at it, too."

"You were excellent, as I recall," she said. She moved her free knight forward. I castled for protection, bringing my king behind the walls, guarded by an unbroken line of pawns. "A man after my own heart. I guess we both enjoy solving problems. That was what first drew me to mathematics, too. All the confusion in the world could be solved if you just had the correct equations." Vivian began her attack, capturing my pawn.

"Thanks... I can do a lot with it, too. I might go into analysis, or maybe try being an actuary."

"I think you'd be very good at either of those, John." I avenged my fallen footman, capturing his captor. She hoisted up her bishop and mulled over the board. Her hand stroked the piece up and down, rubbing its mitre, caressing its shaft, nestled between her breasts.

"That's playing dirty."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said innocently. She captured my knight and moved him off the board. "So how come no college sweetheart? You're smart, you're handsome, you give amazing backrubs...I don't see anything missing," she inquired, her eyes moving up and down my body.

Bishop takes knight. Si Deus nobiscum... "Check." I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Are there any girls there you're interested in?" she asked, her queen taking my bishop, protecting her ruler and husband.

"A few..." I admitted.

"And have you made any moves?"

"Not really..." I took her bishop with my pawn. Our forces remained equal in strength. No victor had yet emerged. Yet...

"Shy?" she asked. She looked over the board, studying it, before pushing her queen forward to c3, advancing right into the heart of my defenses and threatening my rook.

"I guess..."

"You shouldn't be," she advised me. "Sometimes you just have to make a move and see what happens. No risk, no reward."

"I know, but...I wish she'd make the first move. I never know whether a girl likes me or not, and I don't want to impose on her." I moved my rook out of danger. She castled, giving me an opportunity to move my queen forward and offer a trade, sacrificing my queen for a better defensive position.

She retreated instead. Her queen was too valuable to her future plans. "How could she not? Trust me, a little forwardness can go a long way, even if it's just letting her know how you feel. No one ever won a chess game without taking pieces."

Easy for her to say. If I looked like her, I'd never worry about rejection again. Our pawns pushed forward. My bishop threatened her castled rook. When she saved him, I moved my rook to attack her queen. I had her on the defensive. She was left reacting to my actions, unable to mount a new threat of her own.

How would she react if I made a move on her? What would she do? I thought she was attracted. She was awfully touchy-feely for just a friend. Especially a naked friend. Then again, I didn't have any other naked friends. Maybe this was normal. Was it the alcohol? She was the one who offered up a massage as the prize. Didn't that mean that she wanted more physicality between us? She either wanted me to touch her or to touch me herself.

I watched her move her queen to safety. "What if I make a move and she rejects me? I'm worried it'll hurt our friendship." My pawn advanced another space, offered another queen trade, but again, she declined.

"There's no guarantee it won't, but if you're not creepy about it, it usually won't. If she says no, accept it and don't push her. But what if she's been waiting for you to make a move? Then you'll both be happy."

Was she hinting at something? Her face revealed no clue. And I still couldn't shake the fear that she'd never want to talk to me again if I told her I had a crush on her. Queen to a4, rook to d8. Her rook was running out of safe spaces... "That's true..." Pawn to g4. Her knight fled, threatening its pursuer. I moved my h-pawn forward to protect it, boxing up her cavalry.

"Besides, take it from your elder, you'll regret what you didn't do in life a whole lot more than what you did do. At least you'll have tried, right?" Her queen struck, moving to e2. Suddenly, my entire force was in danger, her queen applying pressure throughout my defensive line. My knight and pawn were both under attack. Only one of them could be saved. She smirked. "Ah, I can't wait for my massage..."

"You might have to wait a little longer," I countered. I examined the board. Her queen was a threat, but it didn't have any backup. Yet... Her knight was contained, mine was defenseless. My king's position was open, its bodyguard scattered in their pursuit of her knight, hers was defended by a phalanx of pawns and a rook. Her pieces were constrained, though, and my pawn was already on the fifth rank. What if I..? Hm... I played out various scenarios in my head, looking for a weakness in my plan of attack, but it appeared solid. But it was risky... I took a deep breath.

No risk, no reward.

I captured her pawn. My pawn's only threat now came from a pinned pawn. She couldn't take it without losing a rook, a prize big enough to compensate me for my knight, should she take it. But instead, she moved her bishop into position, providing a clear line of support between her rooks and threatening my queen. It was time.

I sacrificed my queen, taking her pawn. She looked wary, but the bait was too great to ignore. She took my queen with her rook. I captured it with my pawn, which was now just a single move away from promotion.

My knight fell to her queen. A necessary sacrifice, but one not made in vain. My rook advanced to the back row, pinning her rook, threatening her king with check. Her rook retreated to the safety of her bishop's protection, and my pawn advanced. I removed my pawn and recovered my queen from the graveyard. "I can't wait for my massage," I teased.

"You're a brute," she decried, "sacrificing your poor, loving queen for a massage!" The game's direction was now set by me. She advanced a pawn, giving her king a much-needed path of retreat. But it didn't matter.

"I knew I'd get a new one," I said, taking her rook with my own. "Check."

"That's even worse! Philanderer! Cad! Henry the Eighth Wannabe!" she giggled, taking my rook with her bishop. "Never give up, never surrender! This fight isn't finished yet!"

"Check," I replied, her bishop now among the departed. Her king made its only move. I inched my queen to the right, to the square protected by my long-dormant bishop. "Checkmate."

"Okay, now the fight is finished..." She walked around the board, looking for a possible escape, but there was none. "Alright, you win. Good game, John." I reached out my hand for a handshake, but she pushed it aside and hugged me tightly. Her soft breasts cushioned my chest, her scent wafted into my nostrils. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her closely. Her body was warm and soft, filling my arms like a giant teddy bear, filling me with a sense of comfort and security, that all was right with the world. I wished I could fall asleep holding her just like this.

"So when do you want your prize?" she asked me in a low whisper.

I already have it, I thought. "As soon as possible." She pulled back, her hands lowering slightly to my hips. Her eyes met mine.

No risk, no reward.

I leaned forward. Our lips met. She closed her eyes and fell into the kiss, our bodies merging together. My hands gripped her plump ass tightly, pulling her against my swelling cock. Her hand reached up to my chest, running through my hair.

She pulled away. "I-I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay, Vivian. I don't mind. Really!"

She paced to and fro, her hands a flurry of activity. "No, no, I'm, I'm a little bit tipsy and..." She turned back to me. "Oh, don't pout. It's not you! I promise. Just...not tonight. Not now. I don't want to do anything we'll regret.

"Tomorrow, I'll give you your reward, okay? We'll talk. I'm in Bungalow 813. Come by tomorrow morning. Let's say, 10 am. I'll be waiting for you, alright?"

"Alright."

"I'll see you then. Goodnight," she said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek, and walking off into the evening. My chest ached. I felt as though I had been stabbed in my solar plexus.

I spent the rest of the night in a funk, trying to decipher what it had all meant. Had it meant anything? Had it just been an alcohol-fueled mistake? What did she think she was going to regret? Did she regret our kiss? Did she regret our time together? What was going through that head of hers?

I tossed and turned in bed, trying to deduce her feelings for hours, as though the truth could be solved with the right algorithm. One question dominating my mind: did she like me?

It wasn't until after 1 am that I finally fell asleep.

The next morning, I found myself walking down the path to the resort's bungalows by 9:45. It was still slightly cool, the breeze brisk and refreshing, the sun not yet applying its full strength, a few clouds blocking its weakened rays. I worried that every person I walked past knew the lascivious thoughts on my mind. The glances of a few of them made it obvious that my thoughts were having an effect on me already, but I ignored the smirks and raised eyebrows.

I reached my destination. The wooden, green door in front of me radiated intimidation. I knocked and waited. Would she answer? Seconds felt like hours. I heard a click behind the door. I straightened my posture and smiled as it swung inward.

"John!" she beamed, hugging me tightly, her thin, silk robe an unwelcome barrier between our bodies. "How are you doing?"

"Great," I replied, uncertain how tightly to hug her back. I didn't want to scare her off again. Why was she dressed? Did she no longer trust me enough to be naked in front of me? Was she trying to stop any indecent thoughts of mine?

"Come in, come in," she said, waving me into the living room. She closed and locked the door behind me. She glanced at a clock on the wall. "You're early," she observed. Her eyes swung down. "Guess you were excited to get here, huh?"

"Guilty," I confessed. How could I not be? "What's with the robe?"

"Today, I'm your masseuse," she explained. "It would be inappropriate for me to be naked, now, wouldn't it?" I wasn't certain her robe quite met the standard of propriety. It was certainly lovely, a black robe with a crimson cherry blossom pattern, its edges pure white. But even from here, the front of her robe was open enough to reveal that she had nothing under it, the edges of her breasts just barely visible in the wide delta of skin exposed by her loose robe. Her nipples poked proudly through the soft, thin fabric. It ended just a few inches down her thighs, just barely covering her pussy and ass, hiding them from view. A sight that had been open to me for the last few days was now cruelly denied.

"Do I get one, too?"

"Of course not. It's traditional for the client to be nude. Please, follow me, Mister Miller."

She led me through her dwelling to her bedroom. As we walked past the kitchen, I noticed a half-eaten bowl of fruit and a large, white ceramic stein on the table, along with a familiar-looking yearbook. She opened the door to her room and ushered me in. The lights were off. Candles flickered, providing a dim light, suffusing the room with a floral scent. Her bed had a large, white towel atop its red sheets. Would it still be warm from her sleeping body?

"Please lie down, sir," she instructed me. I climbed onto her bed and got comfortable. "Face down..." I sighed and turned over. She walked over to her cluttered bookshelf and turned on her iPod, her robe doing little to hide the contours of her ass as she bent over to do so. I stared, enraptured, as the robe rode up inch by inch, only to stop just short of revelation. Soothing music flowed into the room.

She walked over to her end table, picked up a small bottle of oil, and poured some into her palms. Her nails were freshly painted a dark, wine red. She rubbed her hands together and pressed against my back, her hands moving in long, slow strokes, pressing firmly against me, pushing me into her bed. "Are you enjoying it?" Vivian asked me.

"Mmhmmm," I mumbled into the pillow.

"Good." She moved down my back, squeezing the stress out of my body with her gentle pressure. She squirted some more oil into her hands, and wrapped them around my thigh. I tensed, my balls retracting at this sudden intrusion. Her hands danced around my leg, stroking my muscles. My cock grew against her bed sheets.

I tried to bring my legs together to conceal her effect on me, but she kept my legs parted. I could only imagine her view from behind me, my ass, my cock, my balls, everything exposed and laid bare. She had seen them before at the beach, but this felt more intimate, more vulnerable. I was at her mercy.

Her fingernails pressed insistently against my inner thighs. Her hands pushed against my legs, going deeper and deeper, coming closer and closer to my manhood. Her fingertip brushed against my hard-on. I shuddered. "Oops," she giggled. My breath hissed through my teeth as I clenched the sheets. She traced my shaft, torturously slowly along its length all the way to my balls. I was worried I'd cum right then and there. "Well, someone's enjoying this already," she purred. I could only grunt in response. Touch me, I begged silently. Grab me. Stroke me. Take me.

She walked around the table, standing in front of my face. She leaned over and grasped my arm, her breasts ready to spill out of her robe's open top. I shifted my head, hoping for a peek at her once-again-forbidden breasts, her newly-hidden nipples. But before I could, she was once again upright, pulling my arm gently in alternating strokes. She held my hand in hers, our fingers intertwined. I squeezed, savoring the brief moment before she released.

"Turn over," she instructed. I was still rock hard. She had to know that... I turned over.

She covered her mouth with her hand. "Mister Miller!" she cried. "My, my... I didn't realize..." Liar... She pulled a small, white towel off of her nightstand and covered my lap, looking away. Not that it helped much. If anything, it only drew attention to it.

Vivian placed her hands on my chest and massaged, her full breasts hanging precipitously over my face. If she tripped, I'd probably suffocate. But at least I'd die happy. She held my head, tenderizing my neck by rocking her wrists back and forth. I closed my eyes. "I wish I could enjoy this every day," I sighed.

"So long as you're here, your wish is my command. Is there...anything else you'd like to wish for?" her fingers walking down my chest.

I opened my eyes, looking up into her upside-down face. She knew my wish. It was obvious. My body couldn't keep it a secret. I glanced downwards, then back at her.

"Ahh...I see..." She leaned in against my ear, and whispered huskily, her lips brushing against me as she spoke. "You're not the only one with talented hands... Yesterday, you made your move. Today, I'll make mine. Just lay back and enjoy."

She stood back up. She walked slowly around the bed until she was at my feet. Vivian climbed up onto the mattress with a feline grace, and kneeled between my open legs. She leaned over me, her fingernails just barely brushing against my skin as she carefully grazed against me from my chest down to my thighs and back, her hard nipples caressing me through her robe every time she leaned too far forward.

She sat up and brought her hands to my thighs, massaging them firmly, her hands under the edges of the towel. If she would just move a bit more, just come a bit closer, I'd be in heaven. I was so close to bliss... Please, I silently begged. Just a little closer. But she avoided my cock with a deft grace as her hands caressed everything but what I wanted them to. All the while, her eyes kept switching back and forth from my face to my crotch as she watched my body react to her.

"Are you ready for your happy ending?" she asked.

"God, yes..."

With one hand scratching out slow circles upon my inner thigh, and a wickedly mischievous grin on her face, her hand slowly slid under the towel.

She grasped me tightly. I gasped. The towel began to slowly bounce up and down as her hand stroked my rigid shaft. "How does this feel, Mister Miller?" she whispered.

"Amazing. Don't stop. Never stop," I pleaded.