Private Lesson: Tae Kwon Do Me

Banging My Instructor

Lola Fox

June 2012

Published by Summerhouse Publishing.
Copyright, Lola Fox. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains
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This is a work of fiction. The
characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the
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resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is
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Shit…there he is. Breathe, just
breathe.

Master Park and his fine self,
stretching out on the mat, looking good and doing things to my body
without laying a single finger on me. If I’m to get my way, that’ll
change soon enough. I laugh, knowing my strict—but otherwise
loving—father would definitely have a problem with the sexual
images running through my pure mind right about now. Pure…right…as
if.

No, I don’t go around
sleeping with just
any
guy I find attractive, but there’s definitely something about
this particular older man that has me in a tizzy, to put it
mildly.

And the more I think about him, which
is a lot by the way, the closer I am to making my
“move.”

I’m not looking for a relationship
with the guy, and I’d be lying if I were to say that I am. But if
he were to show any sign of interest in me, anything in the
slightest, I wouldn’t have him wining and dining me for days on end
to give him a little action, that’s for sure. Problem is…he barely
knows I exist. Except for the times he’s busy chiding me. And oh, I
think he may be of the impression that I’m kind of a flake—which
I’m here to rectify, starting tonight.

Today’s my first private lesson with
the thirty-something-year-old martial arts expert trained to snap a
man in two…with hands of steel that move at lightning speeds, and
thick, strong looking legs that do all sorts of weird and exciting
things in the air that has me blushing in all the right places.
Speaking of which…my pussy’s tingling something awful as I take my
cute little flip-flops off, careful not to scuff my perfectly
manicured toenails, especially the pretty little design on my big
toes. God…I’m nervous, and yet excited at the same time.

“
Ouch!
Cold!
” I shout, probably a bit louder
than I intended to.

“
Focus!” Master Park raises
his voice at me, and I turn to look, only to snap my head back when
his facial expression has “don’t fuck with me” written all over it.
Yikes!

Focus, huh? Why
don’t
you
focus on
my fucking delicious piece of pussy pie, Master Park? I silently
warn in my throat, jerking my head forward in misguided courage as
my face constricts with an equally delusional dose of confidence.
How can a man as handsome as Master Park look so scary at
times?

My dad brought me here about two weeks
ago, with me dragging my feet—quite literally—as I did my best to
act like he was taking me to shop for my very first training bra.
Which, thank goodness, my mom had still been alive to do, a few
years before she passed away.

Having quickly tired of
sharing Master Park with the other students, and since money is no
object for daddy’s little princess, I jumped at the first opening
he had, for what’s bound to be a pussy-clenching, ass-puckering,
one-on-one session. I so can’t believe I gave my dad such a hard
time in coming here in the first place. Shit. To think…he couldn’t
bribe me away from here now—not even with front row seats to a
Justin Timberlake concert. Back stage pass, you say? Fuck that…I
want me some of what’s going on underneath that
gee, ghei, gi,
whatever the black
uniform he’s wearing the shit out of, is called. I’m not here to
learn all that chop-socky, mumbo-jumbo nonsense. I’m here for one
thing and one thing only: Master Park. And his skillful hands. And
whatever deadly weapon he’s packing between his legs. Those
beautiful lips, his broad shoulders… Okay, so maybe that’s more
than one thing, but I was never really all that good at math,
anyway.

Oh. My. Gosh. I’m staring
at the object of my fantasy through the mirror that runs the length
and width of the entire wall on one side of the
dojang.
See, Master Park? I have been
listening to you. So there! Score one for Scarlett. Yay! Take
that!

Focus, Scarlett, like Master Park
always says. And yes, I do sometimes refer to myself in third
person. I’m funny like that.

Master Park…last name sounding as
Asian as the Korean food I had last weekend, but with a face that
looks as American as the late model Ford Mustang Convertible I
drive. So handsome, so dreamy. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing
to me.

I’m curious…does he have a girlfriend?
Is he married? I don’t think so. I’ve never seen a ring on his
finger, nor have I ever seen him with anyone. And he better keep it
that way if he knows what’s good for him. Not that I should be
possessive, not in the least, but it can’t be helped. He shouldn’t
be so goddamn handsome.

“
Hiiyyaah!
” I yell out, doing my best
not to look stupid as I do a “chop” with my hand at the mirror in
front of me, my attention squarely on the imaginary woman I see
hanging on his arm.

Damn…too late.

“
Hurry up, Ms. Slowpoke!
Your session started five minutes ago,” Master Meanie-Poopie-Head
barks out, springing up from his very painful looking
splits.

“
It’s Ms.
Kinkaid—Scarlett—Master Park.” I smile wide, feeling as silly as I
probably look with me wearing my neatly ironed martial arts getup.
If my friends could see me now…wearing this
thing…
I’d fucking go hide somewhere
and just die. Who in the hell picked out such a hideous uniform,
huh? What’s wrong with looking good while I do this
Taekwondo
crap?
Definitely not Calvin Klein, that’s for sure. Ugh.

“
I know what your name is,
Ms. Kinkaid.”

“
Really? Aw, that’s so
cool!” I kinda shriek on the last word…can’t help it. He knows my
name. That is so freakin’ awesome!

“
It says so on your
dobok.
”

“
I thought it was called…”
Damn it! Never mind. I wasn’t even close with the uniform
name.
Dobok, dobok,
I recite in my head, face feeling a bit warm from
embarrassment, I think.

The student who had the session before
me laughs as he leaves, shaking his head as he slings his bag over
his shoulder. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I harrumph at
his retreating back, hoping for his sake that that laugh was not
directed at me. ‘Cause knowing my dedication when I set my mind to
it, I’ll be a twentieth degree black belt before my summer vacation
is over, thank you very much. So, he better check himself before he
wrecks himself.

The front door clicks shut and I’m
paying attention to that sound when Master Park says, “Which, Ms.
Kinkaid, by the way, is absolutely not allowed.”

“
Huh?” I fix the white belt
around my waist so that the ends are perfectly even.

“
The sewing of your name on
your uniform.”

“
Oh.” I do a little twirl
and turn to face him, bring up my index finger to my lips and give
him my best “oopsy” face. Flirting and playing innocent always
works for me. Especially with my dad. And…pretty much every man
I’ve come in contact with since I’ve learned how to flaunt my
assets. But so far, not a chance on Master Park. Shitake
mushrooms.

“
Never mind that right now.
Are you done playing around, Ms. Kinkaid? It’s getting late, and
you’ve already eaten into ten minutes of your private session with
whatever it is you’re doing in front of the mirror.”

Hah! He said, “eaten.” I’ve got
something you can eat, right over hear, hot stuff.

“
Hai!
” I reply enthusiastically, so proud of myself for answering
him in…oh, I forget what language, but I know it’s one of the big
three Asian ones. I did such a good job!

But before I have a chance to do my
little happy dance, Master Park flashes his scary face again,
accessorized to the max with beady eyes, shaking head, nostrils
flaring, lips thinning, well, you get the picture. Not a very good
look for him if you ask me.

“
That’s Japanese, Ms.
Kinkaid. This is a traditional, Korean, martial arts—”

I totally interrupt him.
“Oops.
So sorry,
Master.
” Without thinking, the words spout
from my big mouth, said with a stereotypical Asian accent that has
me immediately thinking I’m the most insensitive twenty-year-old
bitch he’s probably ever run across.

The serious look on his face has me
zipping my mouth shut, but in my defense, I think my peculiar
behavior has something to with how anxious I feel…knowing I’m going
to be alone with Master Park for the next forty-five minutes or
so…

* * *

Jesus, I’m sweating like a pig here.
And not wet in the way I’d like to be, either. Master Park’s pacing
in front of me…around me…has me doing actual work! I’m punching and
kicking, repeating the steps over and over again to the point my
arms feel like they’re going to fall off, and my legs, well, I
can’t fucking feel them, like, at all.

I curse under my breath, and I swear
he’s wearing a grin on that ugly mug of his. Okay, not really ugly,
but I’m none too pleased with him right now, so…ugly it is.
“Asshole,” I mutter, sweat falling like hard rain over my
makeup-coated face. To think I did all that work before I got
here…just to have it ruined! Fuck!

“
Did you say something, Ms.
Kinkaid?”

I swear he’s mocking me, I
can hear the sarcastic tone in his ugly voice. Yes, as of this
moment, even his voice is ugly to me, as well as his face.
“
Hai!
” Take my
Japanese and shove it up your hiney-hole. “I’m thirsty,” I groan,
pleading like I do with my dad when I’m not getting my
way.

“
Really?”

“
Yes, really,” I fire back,
punching at the air, while pretending I’m beating his stupid
face.