‘I don’t care what he thinks,’ I say stoutly.
‘That’s just the way it should be for the screwball film.’
‘So…’ I lean against the table on my elbows. I don’t want to talk about my background or my father anymore. ‘Does the screwball film include a Jacuzzi?’
He laughs, throwing back his head. ‘Not usually!’
‘And…’ I take a bite of my toast and eat it slowly and thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you still owe me a lesson?’
Miles raises his eyebrows. ‘Have you managed to take in what I’ve already taught you?’
‘Hmm, let me see. Fire was extremely powerful – very vigorous. Air was a hot and humid experience. And water…’ I sigh. ‘I loved water.’
‘Water? Or a little silicon friend of ours?’
‘That was a great enhancer of the element,’ I agree, nodding. ‘I did enjoy it.’
‘Darling, I noticed.’ He smiles at me, his blue eyes merry.
My soul thrills to being called ‘darling’. Does he really mean it? ‘So,’ I say casually. ‘Isn’t there another lesson? Fire, air, water… what about earth?’
‘Ah.’ He nods slowly. ‘Earth.’
‘So…?’
‘So… are you ready for your last lesson, Winter?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ I declare. ‘Teach me what I need to know.’
We’re in the bedroom, and I’m lying on the white fur rug, wearing a leather bra made of thin straps that criss-cross my chest, moulding gently round my breasts but leaving them more or less exposed. My nipples, pink and already stiff, poke through the slim thongs of leather. Around my waist is a slender leather corset tied tightly but not uncomfortable. Small straps attached to it reach downwards to the tops of my thighs, where silk stockings are fastened to the ends, and I’m wearing spike-heeled black stilettos. The area between the corset and my stocking tops is bare, exposed entirely to view. I feel luxuriant and sexy as I lie on the white rug, the soft fur caressing my exposed buttocks. The only light comes from pillar candles burning on the hearth and the skylight in the ceiling where the soft afternoon sunshine is already beginning to fade into twilight.
My teacher stands by the fireplace, dressed in a black silk robe, a leather mask concealing his eyes. He looks sterner and stricter than I’ve seen him before. In his hand is a long, slender whip, the end of it a mass of soft-looking black leather fronds.
I lie quite still and wait to hear what my teacher has in mind.
‘So, Winter,’ he says. He’s running the slender whip across his palm. ‘You’ve been an excellent student so far. But you have one lesson left to learn. The lesson of earth.’
I look up at him. The glitter of his blue eyes behind the leather eye-mask is deliciously exciting and a pleasant shiver runs over my skin. I love the sensation of being at his mercy, knowing that whatever lesson he has planned for me will give me exquisite pleasure.
My teacher continues. ‘Earth is the last element we will be exploring and it is linked in classical teaching with the sensual aspects of life, so it’s particularly suitable for our lesson. It’s the heaviest of all the elements, and carries associations with the underworld – and its erotic potential. Sex is our consolation for death, isn’t it, Winter? We all know that our mortal body will eventually pass away, but while we inhabit it we may enjoy its pleasures. In classical myth, the goddesses of the earth are those of fertility and agriculture, helping the earth surrender its bounty of food. Mother Earth is the goddess from whom all life and all good things flow.’ My teacher seems to be warming to his theme, drawing the whip through his hand a little faster. ‘Today, Winter, you’re wearing leather and silk – provided for us by the beasts of the earth. I hope you will appreciate their beauty. You will also learn to value some of the fruits of the earth, and the use to which we can put the precious metals, mined from its depths.’
Oh my goodness… What has he planned for me? I can see that there is a large bowl on the table near the fireplace and my belly fizzes a little at the anticipation of what is in it, and what uses my teacher will find for the contents later.
‘But first.’ He plants his feet a little further apart. ‘There is another and powerful tradition that runs alongside the classical ones and that also has a firm connection to the earth. It is the Wiccan, or pagan, tradition. In the pagan mind, the symbol of the earth is the staff, the rod.’
Does he mean the whip? I shiver lightly again. I’ve been a good student, I’ve done all he’s asked. Is he going to punish me?
I don’t feel frightened. I’m know I’m safe in the hands of my teacher. I watch as he moves across the room to a large armchair and sits down. He regards me gravely for a while, and I feel his gaze moving over my body, from the pert nipples poking through the thin strips of leather, to the tight corset and my exposed body below, down my stockinged legs to the spike heels. My sex tingles and I can feel my juices rising to the surface, making me ready for whatever lies ahead.
From his seat my master says, ‘You want to touch this time, don’t you, Winter?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
‘Good. Come over to me on your hands and knees.’
Obediently, I roll over, on to my front and raise myself up into a crawling position. I move towards him slowly, feeling my hips sway with every forward movement. I sense that he’s watching the curve of my bare bottom as I approach, but my head is low and I can’t see him. When I reach his feet, I stop.
‘Very good,’ he says in a low voice. ‘Now, you will be granted your wish, Winter. You can touch me – but within limits. You may only touch the rod, do you understand? The rod and the balls. And you may use your mouth. Consider it the fertility rite of the earth goddess.’
I nod, excitement swirling in my belly. I can’t wait to touch and kiss him. I’ve been longing to play with his magnificent cock for so long, but my teacher has not allowed it until now. I understand that I’ll be worshipping his staff, and I can’t wait to start paying homage to it.
‘You may begin, Winter.’ His voice is deep, caressing.
I lift myself to my knees and pull aside the black silk of his robe. Behind his mask, his blue eyes are watching me carefully as I draw in a delighted breath at the sight that greets me. His huge cock is standing stiff and ready for me, its velvet tip, smooth and shiny, rearing upwards. He’s a beautiful sight: so firm and thick, his balls large and ripe beneath. I lick my lips. I can’t wait to get started.
I grasp the stiff shaft in one hand, relishing its heat and the smooth skin, and begin to move my hand up and down it. As I rub gently and rhythmically, I dip my head to the satiny soft tip, and run my tongue over it. I play around it, running round the rim, over the top and tickling in the tiny slit there. As I rub and tickle with my tongue, I feel the great thing twitch and respond, throbbing under my hand. When I’ve anointed it with my tongue for long enough, I finally let the whole of the top slip into my mouth, engulfing him with my lips. I hear a gentle sigh escape my teacher’s mouth as the top of his shaft disappears into the warm wetness of my mouth. As I suck on him, I caress and tickle his balls with one hand and tighten my grip at the base of his cock with the other. The great length responds by growing even stiffer and throbbing magnificently under my touch.
‘You are doing very well,’ says my teacher, his voice thickened by the sensations he’s experiencing. ‘I’m pleased with you.’
A judder of excitement goes through me. My juices are flowing hard now, I can feel the moisture between my legs, making me slippery and ready for this beautiful machine of his. But it’s in my mouth for now, filling me up, as I put my hand back on the shaft, rubbing harder and more rhythmically. I want to take him into my mouth to the root but I’ll never able to – he’s far too big for me. Instead, I concentrate on licking and toying with the great head of it, my tongue roaming over it, flicking around it, tickling that little slit and playing at the rim, while my hands are busy on the stiff length and his tight balls.
I lose a
ll sense of time as I close my eyes and worship the cock that has already brought me so much pleasure. I adore touching him, tasting him, giving him a little of the joy he’s given me. I can hear my teacher’s breathing coming faster and I take as much of him as I can deep into my mouth, thrilling to his groan of ecstasy as I engulf him in my mouth. I can’t keep him there for long, he’s too big, so I let the shaft slide slowly from between my lips and go back to concentrating on the top while my hands work on his length.
I don’t know how long I’m sucking and rubbing and kissing and tickling, but when I feel his huge cock swell even more under my hand, and feel his balls tighten with the force of his approaching climax, I feel almost disappointed that my work will soon be done. I’ve enjoyed it so much, I don’t want him to come – and yet, it’s also the ultimate tribute, that he’ll surrender himself to the climax I’ve brought about with my mouth and hands. The sense of his approaching orgasm is deeply exciting, and my clitoris twitches and swells with the effect.
My teacher has begun to move now, pushing out his hips so that his cock goes deeper into my mouth as I suck, sliding him in and out, my head dipping rhythmically in time to my hands rubbing hard on his shaft. He groans. His hands touch my head, as though he wants to push me further down his shaft, but he doesn’t exert any pressure.
This is beautiful. Come for me, Miles… I want every drop you can give me…
I know it’s coming now. He’s thrusting up into my mouth, I’m gripping him harder, working him faster, my tongue tickling hard. He’s like a rod of iron now.
Yes, my darling, give it to me, please…
Then he groans deeply and throws back his head, his mouth open, as the great cock stiffens and shoots out the swift jets of his climax. The hot, salty liquid floods my mouth as it spurts out, his shaft throbbing with each explosion.
I take it down, swallowing it all, licking the head of his cock for more, relishing it.
When at last his erection has stopped throbbing, I let it slide slowly out of my mouth and let go of him. I look up at him, panting, my lips and chin wet with saliva.
He stares down at me with a half smile. When he speaks, his voice is replete. ‘Very good… That was most enjoyable, Winter.’
I smile up, my eyes bright. I’m so happy that I’ve pleased my teacher. But I know that the lesson isn’t over yet.
‘The earth doesn’t just provide seed,’ he says. He stands up, pulling his robe closed, and steps around me to go to the table. ‘It is rich with metals as well, the deposits that we mine from it and turn to our own use. Gold, silver, bronze.’ He looks back over his shoulder at me. ‘Did you know that most of the earth’s gold deposits are at the core? Too deep for us to reach. Most of the gold we’ve mined so far is thought to have been brought here by meteorites crashing into the earth’s surface.’ He gestures to the bed. ‘Go and lie down. You’re going to experience a little of what the earth’s metal can do for you.’
I do as he says, going to the bed and lying on my back on the bare sheets. He comes over carrying a bowl and looks down at me with approval.
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Yes.’ He puts the bowl on the bedside table and takes a small square object from it. It’s made of a dull metal, and from each corner of the square juts a tiny spike pointing inwards. ‘This is bronze, Winter. The metal of the ancient civilisations, an alloy of tin and copper.’
I wonder what the small object is for, but my teacher will not let me wait for long. He bends down and deftly puts the square over the nipple of my right breast, so that the bud emerges from between the four inward-jutting spikes. The spikes press into it with a kind of sharp, buzzing tickle. I gasp. It’s painful but not unbearable and the initial sting quickly becomes a kind of ache that makes my sex throb in response. With a deft movement, my teacher presses another square on to the nipple of my left breast, and I pant as the hot sting hits the delicate bud.
‘Can you feel the bite of the bronze?’ he asks in a low voice.
I nod. ‘Yes, Tutor.’
‘If you misbehave, Winter, then I’ll have to make it bite a little harder. Like this.’ He turns one square, and the rasp of the spikes across my nipple makes me moan out loud. ‘But I think you might enjoy it too much for it to be an effective punishment. And besides, you’re such a compliant student.’ He swiftly turns the other square, making the other nipple sing as well. I writhe a little under the sensation. I’ve never understood the concept of pleasurable pain, until now.
‘The Bronze Age is considered a factual period in history,’ says my teacher, ‘but the Gold and Silver Ages are mythical. Nevertheless, these precious metals must be represented. They too can bring great pleasure.’ He lifts another small object from the bowl, this one made of sparkling silver. It’s a kind of long hoop, with indentations near the top, and small tassels of silver chains hanging from the ends. I have no idea what it might be. ‘This little object, for example.’
He holds it to my chest, the metal cool on my skin, the little chains snaking over my flesh with a delicate tickle. He runs it downwards over the leather corset around my waist, and down again to where my sex is ripe and ready, swollen with heat and desire. I’m breathing fast, my heart racing. Is he going to press the little thing inside me? It doesn’t seem the right shape for that. Then, to my surprise, he presses the hoop over my clitoris, the indentations closing around it so that it’s almost encircled by the slender metal. The sides of the hoop run down me towards my entrance, the little chains lying around my wet lips. My clitoris throbs to the tight embrace of the metal clip.
‘Delightful,’ says my teacher. ‘Open your legs for me, Winter.’
I part my thighs even further, so that he can see me utterly exposed to him, my sex now dressed in its sparling clitoral clip and tassels of silver chain. My silk stockings rub pleasurably on my skin as I move my legs apart. The bronze nipple squares bite hard on my little buds and I moan softly, gripping the sheet with both hands, drawing it up into my clenched fists.
‘Gold,’ says my teacher. ‘Something golden for you.’
He dips into the bowl again and this time brings out something that makes my eyes widen: a huge golden dildo with a handle shaped with a grip. I know at once that is so the dildo can be plunged in and out with force.
I moan again.
My teacher sits on the bed beside me, and grips the handle so that the dildo seems to be emerging from his knuckles. It glitters, vast and thick. I’m panting at the sight of it, my clitoris twitching inside the clip that heightens it’s very throb.
‘I think you should kiss this beautiful thing,’ he says and brings it to my lips. I open my mouth and let the cool metal slide inside. I suck it longingly, remembering my teacher’s huge cock. When it’s well anointed with my saliva, he pulls it from my mouth and trails it down my body, its hard length exciting me unbearably. He toys with it over my mound, pressing it down on my clit with delicious pressure, rubbing it around my wet lips until it’s oily with my juices as well as my saliva.
I want it, I’m desperate to be filled up… Fuck me with it, please…
I can’t speak but he must know from my face and the longing expression in my eyes that all I want is for him to send that golden shaft deep inside me.
Its cool head is at my entrance now, dallying among the silver chains from my clit clip, their roughness stimulating me beautifully. Then, at a slow, tormenting pace, he pushes the huge dildo deep inside me.
I cry out with the pleasure of it as he begins to fuck me with it. I writhe and twist under the onslaught of sensations: the bite of the bronze around my nipples, the embrace of the silver clip on my clit and now the incredible sensation of the golden dildo my teacher is thrusting in and out of me. My fingers grip the sheets even tighter, my head twisting with delight as I moan, opening my legs wider to him so that he will press that delicious thing in and out faster and harder. I can’t stand this for long, I’m too aroused by the process of this lesson, the way he’s watching me from behind tha
t mask as I respond to what he’s doing to me.
Oh God… this is too much for me, I’m going to come… Fuck me harder…
The clip seems to tighten around my clit as it swells again, making divine sensations wash over me. It’s no good, I’m going to come, I can’t help it…
He seems to see how close I am and the dildo drives even deeper inside me, thick and hard. My limbs stiffen as the bliss builds in my pelvis and with a shout I’m possessed by great shudders of delight as the orgasm grabs me and shakes me in its ecstatic grip. The waves come again and again until, at last, I’m left panting and helpless.
My teacher pulls out the shiny dildo, wet with my honeyed juice. Then he opens his robe and reveals his own hard shaft, standing upright and ready.
I sigh with pleasure and let my knees fall open on the bed. Oh yes, please… I want this…
In a smooth movement, he’s between my legs, his chest hard on mine, making those little bronze squares nip me even harder. The clit clip is still there and now his groin is pressing hard on mine, his cock at my slippery entrance. Then his magnificent erection slides up inside me. I groan as it hits the top of my vagina, squashing the little tassels against my soft flesh. Then he begins to fuck me, his mouth taking possession of mine. I hold him to me, my hands roaming over his broad back under the silk robe, clasping his firm buttocks, urging him deeper inside.
We fuck hard and fast, kissing and moaning, our bodies giving each other the greatest of pleasure as his cock dives into my velvet depths. On and on we go, thrusting in time with each other until, at last, we dissolve into the beauty of our mutual orgasm, both surrendering to the joyous bliss we’ve given one another, collapsing under the force of our ecstasy until we lie together, panting and spent.
When we’re showered and refreshed, we make supper from leftovers in the fridge, and eat them while chatting idly and laughing. We don’t talk about the extraordinary lesson he’s just given me. The teacher and Winter are part of a particular existence. Now we’re Miles and Freya.
A Lesson in Passion: Season of Desire Part 4 (Seasons Quartet) Page 5