Teach Me Dirty

by Jade West

  “Please touch me…” I whispered. “I want to know you… I want you to show me…”

  He unbuttoned me but his eyes were on mine. “Have you ever been tied up?”

  The memory of Lizzie came back to me and it didn’t feel nice. I didn’t want to think about it but didn’t want to lie. I nodded and he seemed surprised.

  “Lizzie,” I explained. “I was drunk and she… she got carried away, messing about.”

  “Messing about?”

  “Sometimes, when Lizzie gets drunk, she, um… she gets silly… touches me.”

  “Touches you where?”

  My mouth dried up. “She touches… she touches my tits sometimes. I mean, she’s Lizzie, she’s a bit wild.”

  “She tied you up?”

  I nodded.

  “How?”

  “With my school tie, my wrists, to the headboard.”

  “I see. And then what?”

  I felt the heat of my cheeks. “She, um… she rubbed me. Rubbed herself… on me… she…”

  “Elizabeth tied you up and dry-humped your pussy?”

  “Something like that…”

  “And did you come?”

  I closed my eyes. “I didn’t want to…”

  “But you did?”

  I nodded. “I did.”

  “Did you tell her to stop?”

  I shrugged. “Yes… No… it was weird…”

  “Not that weird, Helen, you either asked her to stop or you didn’t.”

  “It’s complicated…”

  “We’ll talk about this another time.” He kissed my lips and pushed his tongue inside, and it felt so nice. And then he slipped the shirt from my shoulders and dropped it on the floor. He pushed me backwards, until I was flat to the bench, and he left me there, walked out of sight. “Give me your wrists.”

  He was behind me and I tipped my head to see him as I reached out my hands. He placed my wrists together and bound them with rope, tight enough to be secure but not tight enough to hurt. He pulled them up over my head until I was stretched, and I heard the clank of metal as he tied the rope to something.

  “Are you going to put wax on me?”

  “Do you want me to put wax on you?”

  I nodded. “I’d like that. I’d like everything…”

  “How does that feel? To be tied?”

  I tried my wrists and they wouldn’t move, and I felt so exposed and vulnerable. “Nice…”

  “How about this?” He lifted my legs and spread them, and forced my knees back against the bench, and my body moved for him. I didn’t even know I could move in the way he moved me. My pussy was spread, I could clench it and when I relaxed it made a soft little wet noise and I could have died of embarrassment. “Do that again,” he said, and so I did, and then he ran his thumb along where I was wet and pushed it inside me. “You have a beautiful little pussy, Helen.”

  All I could think about was the C word. The way he’d said it. How dirty it sounded. I rocked as his thumb fucked me. “Please… please don’t be gentle… I don’t want to be a little girl anymore…”

  “Don’t wish to be something you’re not, Helen. You’re perfect the way you are.” He wet his fingers and touched them to my clit and moved them in just the right way, and I wriggled. “You’ll relax when you come for me, and your pussy will let me in so beautifully.”

  My tummy fluttered at his words.

  “And then I’m going to fuck you, and it won’t be gentle, not unless you ask me to stop.”

  “I won’t…” I breathed. “I won’t ask you to stop. I’ll never ask you to stop.”

  He squeezed my breasts, and tweaked my nipples, pinched them and rolled them until they were hard and tender. “Beautiful. My beautiful girl.”

  And I wanted to be. I wanted to be his beautiful girl.

  “Do you have toys at home, Helen? Vibrators or dildos or anything like that?”

  I shook my head and felt so pathetic. “I had a vibrator once… but it broke… and my sister sleeps in the room next door and I…”

  “We’ll take a trip, somewhere far enough away that nobody will know us, and you can choose.”

  “We will?” The thought made me all warm inside. “What about online?”

  “I want to watch you choose them. I want to walk in the street with you and hold your hand and kiss you like you’re mine.”

  My breath caught. “You do?”

  He smiled, and pushed two fingers inside me and I gasped. “Yes, Helen, I do.”

  “I am yours…” I whispered. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you.”

  “Tell me what feels good. I need to learn the subtleties of Helen Palmer’s delightful pussy and you’re currently the only one qualified.”

  I smiled at the ceiling. “I never imagined I’d be teaching you anything.”

  “A wise man is always learning, Helen, don’t ever forget that. There is plenty you’ll be teaching me.” He pressed on my clit and it sent sparks through my tummy.

  “Yes… like that…” I hissed. “Oh God, just like that…” He did it again and I squirmed.

  “Like this?”

  He circled me and it was crazy good, so good that I couldn’t keep still. I nodded. “Please…”

  “Faster?” He sped up just a little and it made me moan, and I always thought it was fake on those videos, and it probably is, but with him I couldn’t keep still or quiet, and my thighs were tensing and my toes were curled in stupid socks.

  “That’ll make me come… if you keep… if you keep doing that…”

  “I hope so.”

  His thumb worked crazy magic on my clit, and he fucked me so slowly with those two wet fingers, and I didn’t know how to move anymore, I was just a mess of juddery legs and squelching, and if I’d have been able to care I’d have been embarrassed, but I was too excited to be embarrassed.

  “Oh God, Mr Roberts…”

  “Mark.” he said. “Say it.”

  And it felt so weird, and naughty… it felt naughty to call him by his first name. “Mark,” I said. “Oh God, Mark… that’s nice… that’s so nice…”

  “That’s my good girl.” He was staring at me, watching my pleasure, watching my ragged breaths and the way I wanted him and the way he was making me squirm, and I loved it. I loved his eyes on me. “Take your time, Helen. Don’t rush this.”

  I didn’t need to take my time, I was getting that urgent feeling, that tension in me, like I needed something, like something was going to happen, and I couldn’t stop it, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to stop it.

  “Mark, please… don’t stop… don’t stop…”

  “Good girl, Helen.”

  I could hear myself, and it was so wet. I tried to shuffle down the bench, but I couldn’t move, my arms were pulled tight, and I liked how it felt when I fought it, I liked knowing I was trapped.

  “Don’t stop… don’t stop… don’t stop…”

  “That’s it, Helen, that’s it.”

  And I was moving my hips, and he moved with me, knowing my body better than I did as I started to jerk and hiss and lose my mind. I made noises and I didn’t care, didn’t care how loud I was, or how stupid I looked.

  He didn’t stop touching me until I was floppy and spent, with my legs hanging over the bench like blobs of jelly and my pulse loud in my ears. And I giggled, I giggled at how good it felt and I didn’t even know why.

  I giggled until he slipped his fingers into my mouth. And then I went quiet.

  “Suck,” he said. “Taste yourself.”

  I tasted weird, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

  My heart did a little jump as he pulled his fingers from my mouth and sucked them straight into his.

  “You’re going to be a good girl now, aren’t you, Helen?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Whatever you want.”

  “I want you to trust me. Can you do that?”

  I nodded again.

  He flipped me on my front in a heartbeat, and the rope twiste
d and pulled my wrists just a little bit tighter. I was off balance, the edge of the bench hard against my hip bones as my thighs strained for stability. I heard Mr Roberts’ belt loosening, and then I felt him. He was hot and thick, and he felt so big as he rubbed his cock against me from behind.

  “Relax and breathe.”

  I tried my best, but he wouldn’t go in without a real push, and I had to hold my breath and bite my lip while he worked his cock inside me.

  “That’s good,” he said. “So tight.”

  He forced my thighs further apart with his and I let out a little whimper as he sank all the way in. And then he moved. Fast. And it was hard, and deep and I could feel it in my tummy, and it hurt at first, but I didn’t want him to stop, and he didn’t stop, and when he shunted me onto the bench a little further something changed and it didn’t hurt at all.

  It felt weird… and there was that urgency again, that feeling that something is brewing… but it was stronger… and it was inside me, deeper than before…

  “Take it, Helen, take it hard, good girl.”

  “Harder…” I said, and I didn’t even know why. “Fuck me…” I lay my cheek against the wood of the bench and listened to him thrust and groan and slap his flesh against mine. “Please, Mark… fuck me hard…”

  “Christ, Helen… that’s beautiful…”

  “Fuck me, Mark… harder…”

  “Say it again.”

  “Harder, Mark, fuck me harder…”

  “Did you like the dirty talking on the video, Helen? Did it make you wet?”

  Oh God, the embarrassment. It exploded inside me. But I nodded.

  “Say it, Helen… tell me what you liked.”

  “I liked it… I want you to tell me… how it feels… I want to hear you say…” I screwed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead to the bench.

  And his breath was on my ear. “You want me to tell you how good your tight little pussy feels, Helen? You want to know how hard I want to fuck you? How deep I am inside your beautiful little cunt?”

  “Oh God…”

  I felt him smile. “I thought so. You really are a beautiful sweet thing, Helen Palmer. I think you’ll probably be the ruin of me.”

  “Please… more…”

  I squeaked as his hand wrapped around my throat, and his other twisted my hair, pulled it back until my arms were stretched so tight.

  And then he fucked me hard enough that the bench hurt my hips, and I could hear the hiss of my breath. His hand tightened around my neck, and I loved how it felt. I was nervous but not scared, and it was exhilarating and wild and beautiful.

  “Fuck, Helen, this is divine. Your body is divine.”

  “Mark… I feel… good… don’t stop…”

  He didn’t stop.

  “I’ve got so many things to show you, Helen. So many perfect things.”

  “Please…”

  The urgency inside me ramped up, it ramped up so high I thought I was going to pee myself, and I squirmed under him and tried to hold back, but I couldn’t. And I didn’t pee, but I did tense up inside, and it felt so strange and base, like I was some kind of feral animal squirming and squealing underneath him.

  And then I screwed my eyes shut and flailed like a fish and he slammed all the way inside me and held his position.

  “Fuck…” he groaned.

  And I had no words. I had nothing.

  He slammed into me again, and I saw white behind my eyes.

  And then he took my face in his hands and twisted me to him, and he kissed me, pushed his tongue into me.

  And when he slammed again he stopped.

  And I could feel his cock pulsing inside me.

  And I smiled into his kiss, and I knew, I just knew I was full of him.

  He collapsed onto my back and I could feel his heart racing.

  And I giggled and giggled and it felt amazing.

  “What’s so funny?” he said, but he was laughing too.

  “You used the C word. You used the C word and I loved it. It’s like the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I’m glad it pleased you.” He reached forward and pulled the rope loose from my wrists. “It’s certainly not one for the classroom.”

  “Say it again,” I said and I was grinning. I couldn’t stop grinning.

  He kissed my cheek and nipped at me and it felt so good. And then he slapped my ass.

  “Go and eat your cunting breakfast,” he said.

  ***

  Mark

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  She pondered my question and the soft smile on her lips warmed me inside. She forked up another piece of cold sausage and looked across the table at me, and her eyes were innocent and dirty all at once, and her cheeks were still flushed, and her hair was messy from where I’d held her so tight.

  And right there, with a plate of cold breakfast on the table in front of me, I knew.

  I loved Helen Palmer.

  I loved the girl in a way that defied all professional integrity. That defied all reason.

  I loved her with the same kind of intensity I’d loved Anna, but this was different.

  Helen was a pure little blossom in my jaded life, the promise of something beautiful and all-consuming.

  And it worried me. It worried me that I’d never be strong enough to let her go.

  “I’m just thinking,” she said. “About nothing. About everything. About you.” She smiled. “A lot about you.”

  “What about me?” She looked embarrassed. Nervous. “I meant it, Helen, you can tell me anything.”

  “It’s just…”

  “Just what? Embarrassing?”

  “No. Just… I feel shy. In case you don’t…”

  I smiled. “In case I don’t understand?”

  She shook her head. “In case you don’t feel the same way.”

  “I see,” I said. “Why don’t you try me?”

  Her eyes were big and scared but she took a little breath and swallowed another piece of sausage. “I’m thinking how I’ve never felt like this. How I didn’t even know it was possible to feel so close to another body the way I feel when… when you’re inside me. How I didn’t know it was possible to feel someone the way I feel you when your skin is against mine. I didn’t know how much I’d want to breathe someone else’s breath and feel their heart next to mine, and see what they see, and love what they love.” She chased a piece of mushroom around her plate. “I didn’t know being in love with you could feel like this. I didn’t know I’d want to crawl inside your skin and stay there, and be part of you, and never leave.”

  And I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight and heavy. “Helen… that’s…”

  “Not how you feel, it’s ok.” She cut up her bacon.

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “It’s not?” I saw a flash of hope in her eyes.

  “No. It’s really not.” I moved to her, freed myself from the table and dropped at her side and placed my hand in hers on her knee and squeezed her knuckles. “I never meant to do this.”

  “I know…” she said.

  “You don’t know.” I sighed. “You don’t know how much I wanted you to be free, to see you live your life the way a beautiful young woman like you has the potential to live her life. I wanted you to disappear from my class and soar through the sky, and maybe I’d read about you sometimes and I’d be able to smile and say ‘that was my student. That was my beautiful, talented Helen, and look at her now’.”

  “But you can, right? You can still do that?” And she squeezed my hand so tight that it broke my heart. “But it doesn’t need to be in the paper, does it? You could come. We could do it together.” And she saw my face and her lip shook a little bit. “Say you will.”

  “Look at me, Helen. Look at my life.”

  “I am looking,” she said. “And I love your life. I love you.”

  “And that’s exactly it,” I sighed again. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Don�
��t,” she said. “Please don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t finish this.” She blinked away a tear.

  “You think I’m going to finish this?”

  “Aren’t you? It sounds like it.”

  “It’s too late for that.” I brushed her cheek with my thumb. “You made me feel alive again. And I didn’t even know I was dead. I didn’t know I’d given up until you came along and reached out your hand to me and asked me to hold it.”

  “Begged,” she smiled, and her eyes were wet. “I begged you to hold it.”

  “I told you I don’t see the point in lying, and I don’t.” Her eyes transfixed me. Consumed me whole. “I love you, Helen, but that’s really a moot point. My dilemma runs much deeper than that.”

  “You love me?”

  And I smiled, I really smiled. “I was in love with you long before you dragged your drunken little backside down to the river last night and made me come and rescue you, before you think that performance won you any credit. But I didn’t want to be, for your sake, not mine.”

  “Don’t think pulling away would be for my sake,” she said. “I want you to love me. That’s everything I want, everything I ever wanted.”

  “But not everything you need.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that.”

  “Please don’t take this away from me,” she said. “Sometimes my heart knows things, like I said before, and my heart knows I’m supposed to be with you. It’s always known I’m supposed to be with you. It’s like I walked into your classroom when I was just a little kid, and my heart did this little thump and it knew, it just knew you were mine and I was yours. And you can say all the things you want with your mind, with your brain, with your common sense, but I think your heart knows it, too.”

  “My heart isn’t going to win you creative opportunities, or critical acclaim. My heart isn’t going to grant you a first at university, and sponsor you to travel the world learning your craft, until you’re a world-renowned artist, living her life to its fullest potential.”

  “You are my fullest potential.”

  And I laughed. “That’s absurd.”

  “Is it?” I’d offended her, I could see it in her eyes. “Loving you is my inspiration. Loving you makes me feel and hope and try. You’re my teacher, you taught me everything, and I’m so good because of you. Because I want to be good for you.”