by Louisa Bacio
Warmth flared in the base of Lucy’s stomach and spread throughout her body. The confirmation of her vision gave her a glimmer of hope it was coming together.
The headmistress came around the desk, and moved to walk Toni out. Their eyes locked, and an awareness passed between them. Was her bottom all toasty and pink from the afternoon’s spanking? The art instructor blushed a shade similar to match what was in Lucy’s mind.
“You have plans for dinner?” Toni asked, picking up her purse and satchel.
Mixing business and pleasure before the doors even opened wasn’t a good idea. Once the school started, they’d have plenty of opportunities for comingling.
“Rain check?” Lucy said, and gestured toward a stack of folders on her desk. “I need to finish going through the student applications for admissions. And you’ve already done enough extra for today.”
At the mention of “extra,” the other woman’s cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.
Without hesitation, Toni reached out and took Lucy’s hand, drawing her in close. The woman’s dark lashes beat against her cheeks. Her tongue peeked out, and she licked her bottom lip.
“You so owe me,” she said. She leaped across the last few inches separating them, laying her lips over Lucy’s in the softest of kisses. “I’ll take that rain check.”
A flutter lit in Lucy’s heart. Back in New York, she’d had her fair share of boyfriends, and one special girlfriend that broke through other barriers. At thirty-four, though, she hadn’t given her heart fully to anyone. She concentrated on chasing her dreams.
My, oh my, it would be fun to play with this sexy woman. But it wasn’t quite what Lucy was looking for long-term. She didn’t know quite yet what would hold her attention, but she was holding out for it when it hit. Right now, all her attention and focus went to the school and making it a success.
“Call me if you decide you need help with anything else,” Toni said. She walked out the door without a glance back. She may be better suited for the all-girls academy.
Returning to the desk, Lucy sorted through the student application files. Each required several elements, including a photograph. Primarily, Lucy wanted to know which tract they wanted to focus on. Sex U trained a variety of sexual flavors and freedom. The Dominatrix Diva sequence rivaled anything Europe had to offer; High Society Seductress prepared women who were marrying into upper class families; Pubic Relations taught the finer points of female enjoyment; and students who aspired to being paid to bring pleasure for a living signed up for Sex on the Sly. There also were those who didn’t specialize in one area, General Studies, in order to focus on the overall sensual experience.
Those who seemed to be sadistic freaks—not in the good way—or carried some type of hidden agenda, Lucy shuffled off to the side. If enough applicants didn’t warrant entry, she’d reconsider them, but the pile was thick enough to not cause worry. Hot prospects went into a separate pile. Before accepting anyone, she’d bring them in for interviews.
With her physical demeanor, one student—Willow—didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the class. It wasn’t exactly how she looked, so delicate like she’d break with one good thrust. Her long dark curls overpowered her slender face, and her eyes seemed almost too big for her pale face.
Haunted. Lucy wondered what had happened in her past that made her look this skittish. As the headmistress, she hoped to empower Willow. Make her comfortable with her sexuality, and the confidence would spill over to other parts of her life. Something about the school called to her, and now it was up to Lucy to fulfill those expectations.
Chapter Three
The black leather cuff fit snugly around her ankle. Willow understood that, more than anything, the body art represented a change. She may not be bound or disciplined at the moment, but it offered the potential, which heightened the anticipation. When she’d applied to the school, she wasn’t sure what to expect.
Hell, she’d doubted she’d even get in. Who’d be interested in a wallflower like her anyway? Checking out the other classmates made her feel unworthy of being there. They sat in a classroom that resembled any college, except in this one the extracurricular activities were supposed to be much more pleasurable. She flexed her hands, and wiped the clamminess on her long skirt. Maybe, she’d thought, maybe she should drop out now, before she wasted anyone’s time.
If her brother Reed knew she was there … well, she’d never hear the end of it. Those movies that showed a parent grabbing hold of a child’s ear and dragging him away from some offense… Yes, that would be Reed with her. Their parents had died, and as the older brother, Reed took over her guardianship. He began working as a police officer at a young age in order to support their small household, and she’d never saw him bring women back home.
She wondered, didn’t he have needs? She felt that when it came to her, she was out of luck. Forget about dating. No one would want to go out with her once they met her overprotective cop brother.
They were the products of hippie parents, giving their children new-age names like Willow and Reed. Please, save me now. Too bad she didn’t fall under the stereotypes. Or maybe she did. She was here at the sex school, wasn’t she?
An imposter. It’s not like you have the confidence in order to go through with anything here.
The internal berating wasn’t doing anyone, especially her, any good.
A loud “guffaw” of laughter came from a group of four guys off in the corner. She noticed one particularly large specimen, Ted, who looked like the epitome of a former high school football star, now turned frat brother. He was tall, over six feet, with blond hair, a strong jaw and a dimple. Yes, she’d gotten close enough to see the dimple.
The way he looked at her, glanced in her direction. Well, it was enough to put her on edge. She did everything possible to stay out of his way. She had nothing to talk to him about. If she was forced to converse, she knew she’d clam up right away. She might be able to choke out her name. Yep, she easily imagined Ted wearing school colors, complete with the navy sweater with label pin.
If I’m not interested in him, why do I keep staring? Because he’s gorgeous, and possesses a charisma that makes people stare. Men like him attract others.
A woman stepped out on stage, and stood with her hands on her hips until one by one, everyone quieted. She didn’t have to yell or whistle or do any of the other tactics teachers normally employed in order to gain attention. Her presence alone commanded them to watch her. Although she wasn’t very tall, she exuded strength.
“Today we begin with some interpersonal exercises,” she said. “My name is Yvette, and I’m one of the tribe leaders and instructors. Now for this session, we’re going to pair you each up with a partner.”
At the mention of “partner,” the chatter in the room started afresh. Willow glanced around her, searching out someone who looked as scared and lost as she felt. Again, her gaze was drawn to the same guy, and he was looking at her at that moment. He flashed her a smile, and her stomach tensed with nerves.
Yvette help up a silver container and banged the side of it, causing an echo to ring out through the room. “Before you get all happy and join up with someone else, or start fantasizing, this ‘pairing’ will be totally random. From this canister, you’ll pick a classmate’s name, and that’s who you’ll get.”
“What if we don’t like who we pick?” one of the guys in Ted’s group asked. “Like what if I get a dude?”
Willow could swear she heard Yvette’s eyebrow rise, and she suppressed a giggle. Not the right time.
“In case of extreme aversion,” the instructor emphasized, “you can put back the name and choose one more time. But, be warned. One of the lessons here is being with someone you don’t know, or maybe you wouldn’t normally pair with. This isn’t a white elephant exchange. There are no bad choices.”
What if she got him? What if she didn’t? Hell, what if she was paired with a woman? She didn’t have a bias, but she also didn’
t have any experience being with the same sex. Then again, she knew what she liked, how hard could it be?
The sound of Yvette’s high-heeled boots carried through the classroom as she walked down the stairs and up the main aisle. As she passed her, Willow gave a sigh of relief. The noise must have drawn her attention, though, because the instructor pivoted and focused her eyes on her.
The wood pressed hard into her back. She couldn’t get away even if she wanted to.
“So Ms. McAllister, it seems as if you’re anxious to start. Why don’t you pick first.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. She swallowed her apprehension and reached out a trembling hand, digging around in the list of names. After a few moments, she withdrew a folded blue square. The edges cut into her palm.
“Well, are you going to open it or squeeze it to death?” Yvette asked.
“Now? You don’t want everyone to choose one first?”
“Do you think I’d ask if I wanted everyone to choose? No. Now. This way if the person is disagreeable to you, then you can select another.”
It felt like everyone in the classroom was watching her, and if she possessed the gumption to look up, she’d probably see all of them doing exactly that. She focused on the paper and slowly unfolded it. Her breath caught in her throat.
TED. How?
“Read it aloud.”
“Ted.”
“Ah, Mr. Johnston. Your presence is requested over here.”
“All right buddy,” his friend high-fived him.
“I’d suggest you refrain from the frat activities,” Yvette warned, “or else I’ll report you to Ms. Lucy for disciplinary treatment.”
The comment was rebutted with an “ooooh.”
The object of her infatuation came to stand next to Willow. She looked up, and up, until she settled on his smiling blue eyes. “Hi,” he said.
“Hello back.”
“Lovely introduction,” Yvette said. “Now, off to a private room for the two of you. The name of this game is how fast you can make each other come. No actual intercourse, but you’re allowed all sorts of other physical play.”
She handed them an electronic stopwatch device. “Just hit this button when one of you does, and continue on. When you’re both done, report back. Now, keep in mind, some do better with a little bit of getting-to-know-you first, but if you do too much, it’ll seriously cut back on your time.”
What? Willow couldn’t believe the instructions. I mean, it was a sex school and everything, but actually engaging in physical activity with this guy she didn’t know?
Ensconced in a secluded dark room, Willow giggled. “Is this the adult version of seven minutes in heaven?” she asked.
They sat on a comfy chase lounge that felt like it was covered in velvet.
The pure physical male of her affections rubbed the palm of his hand up her thigh, stopping just short of where she really wanted him to touch. “It can be anything you want.”
The excitement level spiked, and Willow knew she grew wet between her legs. An unmistakable ache centered right in her core. Oh, how she wanted him to touch her, and touch him, and come. Relationships so much consisted of this dance, between strangers at first, getting to know each other better ever so slowly, until they felt comfortable enough to strip down and bare more than their naked bodies.
Right now, being at SFSU, stripped away all the pretenses. She didn’t have to fake about caring about what he did for work or extracurricular activities. All that mattered was how they felt in the moment.
“So what are you thinking?” Ted asked. “Do you want to get to know each other a little bit more? Maybe know my favorite color or food or something like that?”
She stifled a laugh. Oh how men really didn’t know women. He had no idea how to read her, even locked in a small, dark space with the challenge to make the other person come as fast as possible.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said. “I want to feel.”
Something about being alone and not seeing her partner’s face emboldened Willow. While she may not be so forthright in real life, right now, she could say whatever she wanted. What would happen? Would she get a bad grade? It’s not like he had chosen her and she might potentially disappoint. No. They were thrown into this assignment together, and damn she was ready to move forward.
She patted his thighs, moving closer, and digging her fingernails into his thighs. “So who wants to go first,” she cupped his already hard cock through his jeans, “you or me?”
In answer, he groaned. “I had no idea Willow—you’re Willow, right?—you’d be so hot.”
“I can be anyone you want me to be.”
Close enough, his lips found hers and all talking ceased.
Ted worked his hand up her leg, under the loose skirt, skin to skin. Sensations of feeling traveled along the way, paving the road for pleasure. With his fingertips, he brushed her tender lips, eliciting another moan from him. “Oh, you are so wet.”
“Of course,” she said, against his mouth. “Being here with you turns me on.”
Her words unleashed an inner beast inside of him. He pushed her onto her back, flipping her skirt up over her waist, and began to circle his fingers over her clit. The combination of wetness and friction hiked up her anticipation of coming. “Oh, yes, that feels so fucking good.”
“Man, why can’t I take you now?” he said, continuing to pleasure her. “I want you so bad.”
Without warning, he dropped down, sinking his tongue into her pussy and working it in and out. He alternated with sucking on her clit, while plunging his fingers into her tight channel. The culmination sent her spiraling into a zone of pure pleasure. Every nerve ending lit afire, and he kept going, eking out every last tremor of sensation.
Willow’s thigh muscles stretched tight, and she fought against digging her fingernails into his back. Finally, sated and ultra-satisfied, she urged him upward, once again wanting to go for the easy pleasure of having him sink into her depths. But no, that form of pleasure was currently forbidden, and Yvette and Ms. Lucy knew what they were doing. By putting it off the table, it made the act taboo and at the same time even more desirable.
“Come here,” she growled, drawing him upward. She unbuckled his jeans, pulling out his straining cock and deep-throated him in one long stroke.
“Oh God, baby. Yes,” he exclaimed.
With one hand, she fisted him, pumping his cock in and out of her mouth, and with the other, she had his ass firm, not giving him any leeway to escape.
He tunneled his hands through her hair, holding her tight against him, and she didn’t care. All she wanted was to feel him pumping his come down her throat. The pleasure came hard and fast, his body trembling above her.
After, he lay beside her, trailing his hands in a loving fashion up and down her stomach. “I wish we had more time together,” he said. “So much more I want to do.”
“I hear you,” she said, laying a kiss on his mouth.
“Just so you know, once those lights come on and we go out there, I’m still the same person as in here.”
How did he get her insecurities so quickly? “I appreciate that.” Even to her ears, her tone sounded flat. If she thought about it too much, she’d get shy and doublethink, triple-think everything. Right now, all she wanted to do was continue to feel in the moment. “Where’s that bell we’re supposed to ring?”
*****
As the cadets tumbled out of the various rooms in all manners of dress and undress, Ms. Lucy surveyed the happenings so far. Willow—with her cheeks flushed red—came out holding the hand of one handsome man. Lucy liked it when the shy ones paired up with those with more confidence. Maybe it’d make him less cocky and her surer of herself.
Why open a sex school? There was the answer: teaching pleasure, love and a little bit of discipline.
Read an excerpt from Physical Education
Book One of the Sex University Series
By Louisa Bacio
&n
bsp; Chapter One
I, Amanda Wilkinson, hereby give the instructors of San Francisco Sex University permission to fuck me in the ass.
No one fucks at SFSU without explicit permission. During enrollment, a student signs a number of consent forms. When Amanda, who usually went by Mandi, heard about the sex-training school, she ached to place her signature on anything. Mandi had always been average, including losing her virginity at 17 to her high school boyfriend. But at 24, her curiosity had grown a little out of control and she decided to learn from the professionals.
The school screened all applicants for sexually transmitted diseases several months prior to check-in. The admission process took about as long as any other college. First there was an application, complete with an autobiographical essay, and then came the physical and oral exams.
Sex U trained in a variety of fields. The Dominatrix Diva sequence rivaled anything that Europe had to offer; High Society Seductress prepared women who were marrying into upper class families; Pubic Relations taught the finer points of female enjoyment; and students who aspired to being paid to bring pleasure for a living signed up for Sex on the Sly. The school had some hopefuls who wanted to teach at the university; and then there were those like Mandi who wanted to expand their extracurricular activities. The thought of being filled anally excited her, and sometimes when she masturbated, she rubbed that puckered hole, but as soon as a partner even tickled her tushie with a finger, she’d clamped those muscles tight. No entry was possible. She hoped the staff at SFSU would be able to teach her to loosen up a bit. She’d never know if she could enjoy it, if she was never able to try it.
Even with all the mental preparations, Mandi hesitated on the last consent form; she looked up and drank in her surroundings. What was she doing here? Was she crazy for giving her body away, willingly? She could have a handful of lovers at any time she wanted. There was a stockpile of potentials’ numbers—men and women—in her iPhone. Many of which, she was sure, would be more than willing to give her pleasure and help in her education, so to speak. Instead of doing the sensible thing, she did the opposite, the extreme. Just like always. Maybe, she wasn’t so average.