Original novel
Find Your Center (Audio Script)
Start reading →Original title: Find Your Center (Audio Script)
He’s good with his hands, has a gentle creative spirit about him, and is cut like a marble statue. You thought taking a pottery class once a week after work would be a good way to relax, but you’re finding it hard to think about anything other than your gorgeous instructor putting his hands all over you… Hot Pottery Guy ✅ romantic Audio Story ✅ ASMR Sex Sounds ✅ Sexy American Accent
Original fiction. Characters and events are invented.
Edited by: Huangguo Drama · Updated:
Stories
“There, there… keep going…
almost…
ahhh, shit.”
Damn.
This is way harder than I thought it would be.
Here I was thinking I was picking up a relaxing hobby that might help me chill out after work, but, I don’t know.
Might give up on this whole wheel-throwing thing pretty soon if I can’t figure this out soon.
The guy teaching us makes it look so easy.
How is he doing that?
Hopefully, he doesn’t notice me staring at him over here.
Nah, he’s way too focused on that gorgeous vase he’s making.
God, he’s so good with his hands.
The way they glide effortlessly over the clay…
The way the muscles in his arms go taut as he makes little adjustments here and there.
It’s kind of hypnotizing, watching him carve those patterns across the surface of the vase…
He’s so in the zone…
I let my wheel spin to a slow stop between my knees and look down again at the useless mess of wet clay on my wheel plate.
Well, at least I’m not the only one clearly distracted by our hot pottery instructor.
I wonder how many people here are actually interested in pottery?
He’s totally oblivious to the five sets of eyes on him as he slides the wire under his perfect bowl and lifts it off the wheel.
“Oh, looks like we’re out of time, everyone!
You can leave your bowls where they are and I’ll move them into the drying room.
See you all next Monday.”
I’m not really sure what to do with this lumpy little bowl I failed at making.
I stay seated at my wheel and try to pry it off the plate.
“Had some trouble with this one did you?”
“Oh, erm, yeah…
I just can’t seem to get this right.”
“Ah, this kind of thing just takes a lot of practice.
Once you get it, it just sort of clicks, y’know? Here, let me show you.”
The last person is just leaving the room as he pulls the neighboring stool over and positions it behind mine.
It’s just me and him in here now.
He scoops my ruined bowl off the wheel and drops a fresh block of clay onto the center.
There’s just something about him…
I can’t quite put my finger on it.
He’s huge, really big, and muscular.
Must workout when he’s not making those beautiful vessels.
And his hair is stacked on top of his head in a messy bun that spills out loose strands around his scruffy jaw.
I’m not one to get all googly-eyed over guys, but… damn.
I’m not one to get all googly-eyed over guys, but… damn.
There’s a gracefulness about him I don’t see often in other guys.
The way he shapes and manipulates the clay is so delicate and gentle, despite how big of a guy he is.
“I’ll show you a few techniques that should help.
Do you have anywhere to be, or can you stay a while?”
“Erm, no… it’s fine.
I can stay a while.”
“Great.
Do you mind if I…?”
“Oh. No, go ahead.”
He sits on the stool he placed behind me.
His chest pushes into my back a little.
He’s… really close.
And smells so good.
Like damp earth and sandalwood.
“Okay.
Um, it’s easiest if you put your hands on mine, so you can feel what I’m doing.
Is that okay with you?”
His lips are right next to my ear.
It tickles every time he speaks.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.
Just, erm, just tell me what to do.”
“Perfect.
Let’s start by just getting the wheel going…”
His leg pushes gently against mine to find the pedal.
The wheel starts to spin and he reaches around my middle to get to the clay.
“So, when you’re centering the clay, you want to apply firm, continuous pressure… like… this.”
I lift my hands and slowly place each one on top of his.
His skin’s a little dry and he’s covered with slip.
He leans against me, applying more pressure with his hands
I feel the clay start to smooth and calm under our touch.
“Ooh, there we go.
Can you feel that?”
I can feel everything.
His breath on the back of my neck, his strong arms on either side of me, his leg against mine…
good god, there is no way I can focus on clay right now.
“Yeah, yeah… I can feel it.”
The wheel slows for a moment and he turns his head so that his mouth is so close to my ear I can feel his breath.
Am I imagining it or… is something… different?
His breathing has picked up… audible.
I move my body back into his a little.
He takes his foot off the pedal and the wheel slows to a stop.
He slowly pulls one hand out from under mine.
Why is he stopping…?
“Every time I teach this class and you show up, I get so excited… you’re just so beautiful. Can I kiss you?”
“Yes…”
I have to crane my neck to the side to meet his lips, but the dull ache feels good with his mouth pressing into mine.
“I want you…”
I feel dazed, a little dumbstruck, unable to put into words how much I want him, too.
“Me, too…”
He moves his massive hands to my waist and pulls at the apron’s tie around my back.
I lift the loop over my head and toss it to the side.
He grips my hips and swivels me around to face him.
His eyes are dark and full of lust.
The eye contact is enough to make the warm center between my thighs start to throb.
I really, really want to feel his hands on me again.
He reaches forward, cupping my face and bringing me closer to him.
He holds his mouth close to mine, making me wait for his lips.
His soft tongue slips into my mouth as I grip the front of his apron and pull him to me.
“Mmm, fuck…”
He tastes incredible.
His whole mouth envelops mine and his tongue works so gently between my lips.
Heat is flushing through my body.
He stands, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he starts to undress.
He peels his t-shirt off and tosses it onto the floor.
Oh my god… his body is unbelievable.
He even has those little v-lines that go down from his hips towards his cock.
I want him… so bad…
He kicks off his jeans and his shoes.
I can see the outline of his hard cock through his boxers.
He smirks under my gaze and pushes his boxers down and his cock springs free.
He reaches down, lifting the bottom of my t-shirt and pulling it upwards and over my head.
God, the way he’s looking down at me…
it makes me feel so desperate… so needy… and also so wanted.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long… come here…”
He drops down onto his stool again and kisses me, hard.
His hands are warm running up my bare thighs, slipping under my skirt.
He finds the waistband of my panties, hooks his fingers under them and tugs.
I lift my hips, letting him slide them away from me.
He slides one hand back up my thigh and strokes two fingers over my folds.
“You feel so good…”
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