by Sky Corgan
While I knew I should have been upset, I honestly felt relieved. At least now I wouldn't have to feel bad about not being able to see him because of my father coming home. Still, shouldn't this be even more reason for us to have sex.
“Are you sure you don't want to fuck?” I asked, feeling a bit sleazy for it.
He laughed, “You're insatiable. But no. You'll survive for a week.”
Would I? I wasn't quite sure. To be honest, I hadn't gone without masturbating for more than a night or two since I discovered the pleasures of my own body. The thought of going a whole week was almost incomprehensible. I would probably rape Damien the next time we were together. A silly mental image played in my head of him opening the door and me ripping off his pants and jumping on his dick right in the doorway. It was funny to think about now, but who knew how accurate it could be by the end of the week.
“I don't like this,” I grumbled.
“It's not your job to like it. It's your job to accept it.”
“Doesn't being a submissive mean some things are up for debate?” I eyed him wearily. “I could have sworn you said that at some point.”
“Some things are. Not everything. If you don't like it, you can always decide not to move on to training when your trial is over.”
I groaned. Why did he have to be such a hard-head?
“Fine,” I relented.
Damien stood to dig through the chest of drawers again. “Before you go, I need to give you your packet on the submissive positions. There's also another list of keywords in here. Don't forget to bring me your homework, the definition for age play written down on a piece of paper in your own handwriting ten times.”
I thought about giving him attitude, but refrained. The corner did not look appealing, and I doubted my ass could handle another round of brute force smacks. Instead, I took the paperwork from him and simply said, “Yes, Sir,” before following him to the door.
In the car, I took off my collar and reflected on everything that had happened. It had been an odd night, and things were definitely getting a lot more intense. While I loved the kink play, I was still having a hard time adapting to the idea of being a submissive. There was so much to remember, and Damien was strict in Dom mode. A large part of me wished we could go back to the way things were, but I feared there was no going back now. I could only look forward and hope I could conform to the harsh standards—to be everything Damien wanted and needed.
CAUGHT
As soon as I got home, I did my definitions. It was annoying, but at least it didn't take too much time. I found it funny that the term I failed was age play. Wasn't what Damien and I doing kind of like that, except our age difference was very real? It wasn't something I liked to think about often. How would my parents feel if they knew I was seeing a man so much older than me? My mother probably wouldn't approve. My father probably wouldn't care, as long as I said Damien was treating me right. Still, the idea of talking to them about him made me feel awkward. Would he ever meet them? Would we ever have a normal enough relationship where he'd want to meet them? I was beginning to doubt it. How exactly did that work in BDSM relationships? Did you bring your Dom home to meet your parents?
You're putting waaay too much thought into this, Chey. With a groan, I changed my clothes and climbed into bed, reaching over to turn my lamp off.
The following day was spent cleaning the house in preparation for my father's homecoming. It's amazing how much a single person can dirty a house. As I mopped the tile in the kitchen, I thought about what a slob I had become since starting college. It wasn't as bad as Chase's apartment had been, with empty boxes of pizza on the counter and dirty clothing everywhere, but it was below my normal standards of cleanliness.
Thankfully, Dad didn't arrive home until shortly after I had finished. When I opened the door, I was greeted by his warm weathered smile. My father looked older than the last time I had seen him. His face had more lines, and the stubble on his chin was more salt than pepper. He outstretched his arms to me, and I jumped into his embrace like a small child, squealing, and squeezing him, and inhaling his familiar scent.
“How ya doin', kiddo?” he said.
“I'm good,” I replied as I pulled away and stepped aside so he could come in.
The duffle bag he carried looked as worn down as he did. There was no telling how old it was, but he'd had it for as long as I could remember. A small tear in the side revealed some garment beneath, no doubt in need of a good washing.
“How was your trip?” I asked, following him into the living room.
“Same old, same old.”
My father was a man of few words, which made holding a conversation with him awkward at times. Sometimes I wondered how he and my mom had ever gotten together. They were different people back then though. A different time; a different place; a different life.
“How's your studies going?” he inquired.
“Good,” I replied. “I haven't had time to make dinner yet. I was thinking about spaghetti.”
“Oh, honey, don't worry about cooking anything for me. I went through drive-thru before I got here. I should have called and asked if you wanted anything.”
“Don't worry about it. I'm fine. I'm sure you'd like a nice home-cooked meal though.”
“Maybe tomorrow. Tonight, I'm just looking forward to a nice hot shower and sleeping in a bed. Sleeping in the cab gets old.”
I could only imagine. Dad had let me see the cab of his truck a few times. The bed inside looked more like a bench with couch cushions on top of it. I couldn't imagine having to sleep on that thing every night. No wonder his back was always hurting.
After some brief conversation, my father went to take a shower, and I returned to my room to study. The initial excitement of his homecoming was over, though I was sure that we'd have a lot more to talk about after he was rested. When he finished his shower, he went into the living room to watch televisions for a while. I asked if he needed anything and then retired to my room for the night, deciding it was best to let him have some time to wind down. He would be home for most of the week, so we would have plenty of time to catch up later.
Strangely, I hadn't thought about masturbating all day, but the second I laid down in bed, it was all that consumed my mind. There was an itch between my legs that needed to be scratched, a very sensual itch. The few times before that I had gone to bed without masturbating, I had been extremely exhausted. Tonight, I was wide awake, and I was pretty sure there was only one thing that would relax me enough to sleep.
Grumpily, I tossed and turned, thinking about how this wasn't fair and wondering if Damien was going through the same thing. A sick part of me hoped and prayed that he was curled up in bed in utter agony, perhaps trying everything possible not to touch his throbbing cock. Mmm. Oh God, that thought only made me hornier. I squeezed my thighs together and banged my head against my pillow a few times, as if to knock the perverted images from my head. It didn't work though, and soon, all I could think about was Damien Reed naked and between my legs. It was going to be a long night—a long miserable night.
Eventually, I was able to go to sleep, but my alarm clock went off cruelly early. Apparently, Damien only cared if I went to sleep on time, not that I got a good sleep. Perhaps I could reason with him next time I saw him about how not masturbating gave me insomnia. I doubted he would listen though. He was a very stubborn man.
With the weekend over, the week progressed as normal. I missed not seeing Damien on Sunday, though not as much as I had expected. Perhaps fear of his strictness was dulling my desire for him. It was a sad thought, but couldn't be helped.
While the craving to masturbate was with me Monday night, it wasn't as strong. After only a few hours of laying there sulking, I was able to go to sleep, though I still felt completely miserable. Not only was refraining from masturbating resulting in lost sleep, but it was also making me hornier in the daytime, which caused me to be distracted during class. All the boys whom I had overlooked for
Damien when the semester began were starting to look a lot more appealing. I wondered what Damien would say if I told him that. Would he even care?
I didn't expect to hear from Damien all week aside from our nightly texts. From Monday to Friday, he did him and I did me. The weekends were our together time. That's why I was a bit surprised on Wednesday to see a text for him telling me to come to his classroom after school.
My stomach twisted in nervousness, wondering what he could possibly want. Maybe he had more rules for me to follow. I scowled at the thought. If that was the case, I'd never respond to one of his midday texts again.
After my last class, I headed to Damien's classroom. It was a bit nostalgic to step inside and see his handwriting on the whiteboard. Most of the time, I practically forgot he taught at my college . . . and how we met. Instinctively, I looked at his desk to see if his infamous pen was sitting on top. It wasn't. After my stunt in thievery, he probably kept a closer eye on it. The thing was too expensive and sentimental to risk losing again.
I found Damien in his office working on paperwork. He barely glanced up at me as I entered, muttering for me to close and lock the door while he continued reading.
By the time I had done what he asked, his attention had shifted. His eyes were on me—those dark penetrating eyes that spoke of deep desire. I felt my body warming up just from the sight of his intense gaze.
“Take off your clothes,” he told me, steepling his hands on top of the desk.
“What? Here?” My cheeks instantly turned pink, the heat from my body rushing up to my face.
“Did I stutter?”
“Damien, we can't.”
“You didn't seem to have a problem with it the first time you were in my office.”
That made me blush even more. I could remember it like it was yesterday, me pressed up against his desk, and the aggressive way he went to claim me. Then I had ruined everything by telling him I was a virgin. It wouldn't be that way this time. This time, we'd finish what we started so many weeks ago.
“I didn't get naked last time,” I reminded him.
“Do you want a punishment? I still have a lot of tests to grade. You could be standing in the corner for a while,” he warned.
Just the mention of the word punishment made my hands move to purpose pulling my blouse over my head. There was something incredibly arousing about undressing in his office. It was like we were role-playing. Except that we weren't. He was the college professor, and I was the student. And he was about to take advantage of me, crossing forbidden territory that put us both in danger.
My heart beat fiercely as I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor. Damien's eyes were watching me, molesting me. When I caught him staring at my breasts, my nipples instantly perked, turning into taut peaks, as if his gaze had some magic power that stimulated them. I bit my bottom lip and bowed my body to pull down my skirt and underwear. If Damien Reed wanted me naked, then he would have it.
“Come here and Kneel,” Damien commanded as soon as I was undressed.
Without hesitation, I walked around the desk, assuming the position in front of him, on my knees with my palms down on my lap. He turned his chair to face me, reaching to rub and pinch one of my nipples. My cunt throbbed in response, my nipples growing even harder from the stimulation.
When he stood to look down at me, my entire body was consumed by lust. He burned into me with his dark gaze, his crotch dangerously close to my face. I inhaled deeply, but all I could smell was paper and markers.
“I think you know what I want,” Damien whispered down to me, and it was all the provocation I needed.
I leaned forward, kissing him over his jeans, wanting to feel his glorious cock thicken beneath them. Before I had a chance to do anything else though, he was taking a step back and unzipping his pants. Within seconds, his flaccid length was staring me in the face. Greedily, I crawled forward to take it into my mouth, looking up at him all the while. Soft moans escaped my lips as I bobbed back and forth, feeling his manhood become engorged in the wetness of my mouth. Damien reached a hand down to fondle one of my breasts as I sucked, sending tremors of want straight to my cunt.
Though it had only been a few days since I last felt his touch, it seemed like forever, by the way that my body was responding to it. Already, my pussy was moistening in anticipation. Oh how I hoped he wanted more than just a blow job.
I did my best to focus on every minute sensation of sucking him off, the way my tongue danced across the bulging veins of his member, the way my lips caressed the cute little ridges of his cock head. He smelled and tasted like man, thick and delicious. When I pushed him to the back of my throat, he filled me completely, and when I pulled him out, I was left feeling empty and hungry, wanting to bring him in again, wanting to suck until I could taste more than just skin.
Finally, he grabbed the base of his shaft, pulling it out of my mouth to rub it across my erect nipples. “Stand and lay back on my desk,” he told me.
My heart skipped a beat with the realization that I was about to get my wish.
I felt awkward climbing onto his desk. The paperwork was still there, and for a moment, I thought about moving it aside, but Damien gave me a soft slap on the ass, sending a shiver of pleasure through me, and I said screw it and pulled myself up on top of it instead.
Before I had even situated myself, Damien was grabbing me by the ankles, forcing my feet up to the sky. A blush spread across my cheeks as I thought about how inappropriate we looked—how inappropriate this all was. He held my calves at a V and guided his cock to my pussy, barely pressing the tip inside. I tried not to squirm, feeling my inner channel pulsing from the sensation of his body's sensual touch.
“Do you want it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I whispered, scared that someone might hear.
“Don't you mean yes, Sir. That's the second time since you've been in my classroom you've forgotten to say it.” He gave me a disapproving look, keeping his cock at my borderline, torturing and teasing me at the same time.
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. Give it to me.”
“You're really racking up the corner time. When you come over next, you should expect punishment.”
I didn't care. Nothing mattered but having him inside of me. His cock was so close, the bulbous head dipping into my wet channel only to pull away again. I wasn't dumb enough to think I wouldn't get what I wanted though. This wasn't just about me. Damien was horny too. His eyes said it all, and there was no way I would be leaving his office without getting fucked. Just the thought that we were about to have sex in his office, on campus, with me laying across a bunch of ungraded tests, was enough to kick my arousal up to a higher level than I'd ever experienced before. The intensity of it made my entire body throb with excitement, made me short of breath without us even having coupled yet.
He pressed inside without another word, tunneling his length all the way into me. I groaned in appreciation, letting my head rest over the side of the desk as he began thrusting. My throat was a torrent of moans, but I swallowed each one, knowing we had to be quiet.
Apparently, Damien was less keen on the idea of discretion. He let go of my legs, forcing me to keep them strained up in the air. After every few thrusts, he gave my ass a gentle slap, sending shock waves straight to my pussy.
“Play with yourself,” he told me, and I was quick to comply, pressing a hand between my legs to milk out my quickly approaching orgasm. Within seconds, I was warning him I would come, and he forced my hand away, making my orgasm recede, though it didn't go very far.
Damien grabbed my thighs and began bucking hard, picking up the pace and causing my body to bounce across his desk and spill some papers to the floor. That didn't stop him though. My cunt pulsed and throbbed as he took me with heated vigor, the look in his eyes pure carnal lust.
He grabbed my legs and held them together, pulling out and entering me again and again. I groaned at the way my body squeezed him. His cock felt almost too thick to go i
n, but he forced it, making me feel fuller than ever before. Leaning on my forearms, I watched him fuck me, the visual stimulation adding to my overall pleasure. It was then that I realized he wasn't wearing a condom, not that it mattered much to me in that moment. My entire soul was consumed with my body's desires, completely focused on nothing but my own pleasure.
Damien pulled out and walked over to where my head was. Knowing what he wanted, I relaxed my throat as he slipped back inside of my mouth, forcing me to taste myself on his phallus. He didn't move, but instead allowed me to do all the work, sucking on him with fervor as I tried to will his orgasm out. Once he came, I would be allowed to come. That was how this game would work, I already knew.
Damien didn't seem to be in any hurry though. When he was satisfied with my oral, he pulled away again, taking a few steps back.
“Get off the desk and come lean over it,” he said, practically breathless.
I rolled off the desk, turning over to lay across it on my stomach. Damien grabbed me by the hips to pull me back. Again, papers tumbled to the floor. My eyes landed on one directly beneath my face. The name etched across it was Barney Collins. Before I had time to read anything else though, my thoughts were drawn away by the feel of Damien's manhood entering me again. As he pounded me from behind, it took everything in me not to moan. His cock felt so good, sliding in and out of my wet pussy. Not to mention the fact that he would throw in a spanking every now and then, further igniting my lust.
“On the desk,” he commanded, giving my ass a final slap. I thought he meant for me to sit on it again, but when I went to turn around, he forced me back as I was. “Crawl up onto it, on your hands and knees, with your ass facing me.”
When I did as I was told, he pulled my hips down so that I was in a low crouch and shoved himself inside me. From this position, I could help with the fucking, thrusting back against him as he pressed into me, sending shivers of intensity through my spine every time his cock reached too far. He gripped me by the shoulders and pounded home, causing the desk to scratch against the floor. Finally, I said screw it to trying to be quiet. If he was going to fuck me until we moved furniture, then what did it matter if I moaned.