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by Sky Corgan


  The room was full of the smell of sex and the sound of skin slapping and metal screeching against the tile. I cried out my pleasure as I felt my orgasm coming on. It wasn't often that an intense pussy pounding could send me over the edge, but Damien was moving like a jackhammer behind me, and the friction was more than my body could handle.

  “I'm going to,” I began to say, but a knock on the door cut me off, and the entire room died into silence in an instant.

  For a split second, I thought I could feel Damien's pulse through his cock, and then he pulled out, the look of lust in his eyes replaced by fear.

  “Get dressed,” he whispered to me.

  Someone had heard us.

  DISMISSED

  The woman on the other side of the door gazed at us knowingly. How could she not know? The scent of sex wafted from the room behind us, and we both had the just-fucked look.

  I felt mousy as I squeezed past her and made my escape, leaving Damien alone to deal with the aftermath. She looked too old to be a student, too serious and disapproving to be seeking his council. As I walked down the aisle of his classroom, I heard her say his name in a stern tone, as if the very word was chastisement for keeping her waiting. There was no way she hadn't heard us having sex.

  By the time I got to my car, I was sweating bullets. Somehow, I knew the woman was someone important, someone who could probably end Damien's career. I rested my head against the steering wheel and sighed.

  If something bad happens, it's not your fault. You were only following orders. He can't possibly be upset with you for this. It was his fault for not being quiet.

  Damien had been far from quiet. For every moan I stifled, he was slapping my ass or pounding me so hard that the desk screeched across the tile. Eventually, I said screw it. If he was making so much noise, then why couldn't I?

  I could only imagine what we sounded like from the other side of the door. It wasn't exactly soundproof. The one time I had listened in on Damien, I had heard him well enough, and he wasn't even making a fraction of the noise we had been this time.

  Who was she? And what was going to happen to us now?

  Realizing I'd get no answer to those questions by just sitting there, I put my car in drive and went home, watching my phone in my peripheral vision in the hope that Damien would call or text me. He didn't though, so I was left wondering and stressing. When I pulled into my driveway, I thought about calling him but then decided against it. If Damien wanted me to know what had happened, he would have contacted me. Besides, the woman might still be with him for all I knew.

  I walked inside and greeted my father, then made myself busy by preparing dinner. He asked me how my day was, and we chatted for a while before I retired to my room, and he went to watch television in the living room. That was pretty much how the afternoons had gone since he'd come home.

  Thankfully, he'd be leaving on Friday, so I wouldn't have to explain my mysterious weekend disappearances, though I hadn't really been concerned about it. It would be easy enough to tell him I had gone out with Tanya. After all, I needed a life outside of college.

  Lately, Damien had become that life. Since Tanya had gotten a boyfriend, I saw less and less of her. That was usually how it worked when she was really interested in someone though. Hoes before bros, in the sense that Vinny was her hoe. I couldn't help but wonder how long they'd stay together. Hopefully not much longer. The guy wasn't exactly my cup of tea, and I wanted my friend back.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to worry about the lady who caught Damien and I having sex. Worrying never solved anything, and I certainly didn't need the stress. Instead, I decided to turn my attention toward thoughts of receiving my training collar. My consideration period was almost up, and I'd soon have to decide if I wanted to take things with Damien to the next level.

  Being a submissive was difficult, but I was adapting to it well enough, I thought. Sure, there were times when I freaked out and had my doubts, like when he punished me with an ass thrashing spanking, but the sex was so good that I was addicted. If I had to jump through a ring of fire to stay with him, I probably would. His demands weren't that extreme anyway. All I had to do was follow his rules and obey.

  When I sent Damien a text that night to let him know I was going to bed, I asked him if everything was alright. He simply responded with, “It's fine.” That reassured me somewhat, but I still couldn't help but feel like things weren't fine. Knowing it would annoy him, I didn't press the subject any further, though I would definitely be bringing it up next time we were together.

  On Friday, I wished my father farewell before I headed off to school. The time we had spent together had been pleasant, and I was honestly sad to see him go. He kissed me on the cheek and then stood in the driveway to watch me leave, probably thinking about how we wouldn't see each other again for a while. It was a sweet gesture, and I found myself fighting back tears as I lost sight of him, though I wasn't sure why. This entire week had been emotionally weird for me, and it wasn't even over yet.

  That night, I went out with Tanya and Vinny to a restaurant. Just like the time when I came over to watch movies with them, I was pretty much ignored until I brought up what had happened in Damien's classroom.

  “You don't happen to have any idea who the woman was?” I asked after describing her to them.

  “Probably the next person he was going to fuck,” Vinny said, which was met by a jab in the ribs from Tanya.

  “Don't be so rude,” she chastised him.

  Even though I knew he didn't really know what he was talking about, I still felt the fires of jealousy rage through me. The thought of Damien with another woman irrationally infuriated me. I had nothing to worry about though. He had already told me that he belonged to me. And besides, I had left the marks on his back to prove it. If he did sleep with someone else, they would know I had been there first.

  “The guy has a track record, is all I'm saying.” Vinny shrugged.

  “You don't know that,” Tanya argued.

  “Hey, I only know what I've heard.”

  “So neither of you have any idea who the woman was?” I asked.

  “It could have been the dean. The description matches,” Vinny said before taking a sip of his soda.

  “Stop it. You're gonna freak her out.” Tanya pushed him.

  “It's a little too late for that,” I said, not knowing whether to believe Vinny or not. The more time I spent around him, the less I liked him. He definitely did not get the Chey seal of approval, and I couldn't wait until his entertainment value for Tanya had run its course.

  “I'm being serious. It sounds like she was probably Kim Westerman. She's the dean of the school, you know?” he told us.

  “I didn't know,” Tanya admitted. “I don't keep up with that crap.”

  “How can you not know the dean of the college you go to?” Vinny teased her.

  “I didn't know either,” I said. “I mean, I was told at some point, and it's not something that struck me as particularly important to remember.”

  “I bet you'll remember now,” he joked, making an obnoxious face before dipping one of his fries in ketchup and chewing it noisily.

  Hate this guy.

  “So how are things aside from that?” Tanya asked.

  “Good, I think. If all goes well, I'll get my training collar this weekend.”

  I expected her to ask more questions, but her interest died the second Vinny slid his hand across her inner thigh. From that point on, they were in their own little world, laughing and joking and cuddling and kissing, and barely acknowledging my presence. It made me angry . . . and jealous.

  Even though I was certain Damien and I had better sex than them, we didn't share the same kind of relationship. I didn't get to hold his hand in public, or go out on dates, or introduce him to my parents. At times like this, when I was surrounded by normal people in normal situations, it didn't even seem like we were in a real relationship, more like something fantastical he had c
ome up with to suit his bizarre needs. That wasn't true though, and I knew it. There were other Dominants and submissives out there. But did they act like we did? Did they hide their relationship from viewing eyes? Some probably did. But more didn't. It wasn't just the BDSM part of our relationship that accounted for our queer behavior, but also that fact that he was a professor, and I was a student. Our relationship was forbidden. Before I met Damien, I would have thought that was romantic. Forbidden love had always held an appeal to me. Experiencing it was a completely different story though. There are few things that suck more than not being able to be public with the person you love.

  Once we had finished eating, we parted ways, and I headed home, obsessing about my discontent with everything. Vinny had taken away my sounding board. Damien was too distant to talk to. My mother couldn't know about our relationship. There was no one else I felt I could really turn to. I was beginning to feel very alone.

  For some reason, I had a hard time not masturbating that night. Perhaps it was the thought of seeing Damien the following day, and the memory of what we had done in his classroom. Aside from the random woman spoiling our heated moment, it was like something straight out of a porn. It never ceased to amuse and amaze me how creative Damien was. We had fucked on his desk in every position I could imagine, though I was sure that he hadn't shown me all that could be done with it. The guy was a sexual MacGyver. That was part of his appeal though. I doubted our sex life would ever get boring or stale, as I'd heard happened with so many other relationships.

  The next day, I tried to hit up Tanya for some midday shopping, but Vinny got to her first. When she asked me if I wanted to hang out with them, it was easier to say no than I thought. Seeing them together was starting to get to me on multiple levels. Next time I got Tanya alone, I'd have to talk to her about us having our own time, not that I thought she would listen. Hell, if I got her alone, I should probably take advantage of it and pour out all of my problems, not waste it on words she wouldn't follow anyway. Hoes before bros, that one.

  I called my mom as a backup plan, but she was at work, so I ended up having to spend the day alone. Bored and with nothing better to do, I got a headstart on my laundry and some of the other cleaning, then watching television until it was time to go to Damien's house.

  The collar of consideration was snug around my neck when I knocked on his door. Hopefully, I'd be walking out with a training collar, if we both felt like that was the appropriate next step.

  When Damien opened the door and looked down on me, I sensed a certain level of discontent, and fear rushed through me as I was suddenly reminded of the woman who had heard us screwing in his office. Either he's had a bad day, or something is weighing on him.

  “Are you alright?” I asked as he led me to the classroom.

  “Just a little stressed is all,” he replied dully.

  “Care to talk about it?”

  “It's none of your concern.”

  We sat in our usual spots, with me on the bed and him in the chair in the corner of the room. He really didn't look like he was into dealing with me today.

  “If you don't feel well, I can leave,” I said, though my tone spoke otherwise. It was selfish, but I relished my time with Damien—couldn't get enough of it. The thought of missing out on an evening with him made me sad.

  “No. I don't want you to leave.”

  “Is this about that woman? Was she the dean?” My stomach twisted from the word.

  “She was.” He nodded.

  “Are you going to get fired?”

  Damien sighed, avoiding my eyes, but his expression said it all. This did not have a happy ending.

  “She's allowing me to finish out the semester,” he said finally.

  “Oh, Damien, I'm so sorry.”

  I wanted to go to him, to pull him into my arms and tell him everything would be alright, but I was afraid of how he'd react. Was he too strong to want comfort? Would it be out of line for me as his submissive to offer it to him?

  “It will be alright. At least she's giving me the option to resign and not firing me outright. It was a kindness, to be honest. By all rights, she should have made me pack my desk that very afternoon, but we have a bit of a history. That's the only thing that saved me,” he told me.

  For a while we sat in remorseful silence. My brain screamed for me to do something—anything, but I didn't know what.

  “I'm here for you,” I said. “I don't have much to offer, but if there's anything you need from me, just ask it. I love you so much. I'm so sorry this happened.” My eyes welled up with tears, and my hands began to shake. Stupid, stupid, Chey. Why are you crying at a time like this? That's the last thing he needs.

  I knew why though. It was guilt—guilt for knowing I had played a part in all of this, even if it wasn't directly my fault. If I had just ignored Damien's text, maybe he'd still have a job.

  Suddenly, the roles were reversed. Damien crossed the distance between us, and I found myself sobbing in his arms. He stroked my hair gently, telling me not to worry, that it wasn't my fault and everything would work out. His voice was so soothing, his embrace so warm. I melted against him, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms forever.

  “It's my fault, really, for enforcing that no masturbation rule. I guess my willpower isn't as good as I thought,” he told me, breaking my sobs with soft laughter.

  I looked up at him, grinning through my tears. “Really? Is that why you called me to your classroom?”

  “It was.” He nodded. “I was so horny I don't think I could have gone another day without imploding.”

  The thought was both amusing and arousing. Maybe all of my fantasizing about Damien's aching cock had been accurate. A sick need pulsed between my legs, totally inappropriate for the situation. Was I truly so insatiable that my body could turn even this tragedy into a sexual stimulant?

  I bit my bottom lip, placing my hand on his thigh and rubbing towards his crotch. “And how do you feel right now?” I asked.

  He gazed down at my hand. “I feel like you're trying to seduce me.”

  “Maybe I am.” I craned my neck for a kiss, tasting my salty tears on his lips. His mouth was soft against mine, feeling more vulnerable than needy.

  When our lips parted, I found myself slipping to my knees, working to unfasten his belt bucket. Damien watched me, allowing me to take the lead for once. There wasn't much I could do for him, but this was one thing.

  He groaned as I took him into my mouth, sucking and nibbling and caressing, worshiping his cock with my lips and tongue. I enjoyed the feel of it growing firm as I pleasured him, the way the meaty length of it filled out, and his veins bulge against the surface. Men's anatomy had always fascinated me.

  Damien's touch was gentle, moving my hair away from my face, so he could watch me suck him off. The fire in his eyes wasn't there. Carnal Damien was asleep, somewhere deep inside. Tonight he was someone else, someone who wanted to give up control instead of taking it.

  When I could taste his salty pre-come, I laid him back on the bed and crawled on top of him, hiking up my skirt and moving my panties aside to take him inside of me. I groaned as his bulbous tip spread me wide, fitting perfectly, as if our bodies belonged together. Once he was in all the way, I began to move my hips, using all the skills I had learned from his sex position video. He stared up at me, his eyes betraying no sign of pleasure.

  “Would you rather be on top?” I asked, suddenly feeling insecure.

  “No. You're doing just fine,” he told me, so I continued.

  I rode him until my body peaked, and then I kept on going. My thighs began to ache, and sweat made my shirt cling to my back, but I didn't stop. Everything in me was consumed with the desire to make him come. For once, my mind was more focused on his pleasure than my own. It was a strange switch from the norm, but different could be good sometimes.

  Eventually, his eyes became hooded, and I could feel that he was about to reach his limit. Damien's hands came to rest on
my hips, and he began to buck, the friction building so much that I could feel a second orgasm coming on.

  “Are you on birth control yet?” he asked.

  “No.” I shook my head, feeling guilty for dragging my feet about getting on it.

  He gave me a disapproving look, but didn't stop thrusting. The waves of pleasure were coming, and as soon as Damien felt my first contraction around his throbbing member, he was urging me off, spilling a jet of semen onto his black T-shirt. I laid beside him breathlessly, waiting for my orgasm to finish playing out, though all the movement had dulled it a bit.

  Damien pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor, and I rolled against him, practically forcing him to put an arm around me, so I could rest my head on his chest. We lay in silence for several moments, catching our breath as I ran my fingers through the soft coating of short dark hair on his chest and watched his muscles contract. Damn, did he have a beautiful body. Looking at him like that made me feel oddly grateful that I was in his bed, and it wasn't someone else.

  “Do you know what I want for Christmas?” I asked and then instantly felt bad about it. The last thing he probably cared about was what I wanted for Christmas, especially since he was about to lose his job. It was such a selfish thing to have said, and yet it had left my mouth before I could stop it.

  I half expected Damien's response to be rude or demeaning, but instead he just replied, “No.”

  “I want you to shave this off,” I told him, swirling my finger over his heart.

  He turned to look at me. “You don't like body hair?”

  “I prefer my guys shaved.”

  “I trim it, as it is.”

  “I know. I want it all off though.”

  “If that's what you want,” he sighed, kissing me on top of the head. “You need to get on birth control if we're not going to be using condoms anymore.”

 

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