I look at him, surprised, puzzled, desperate to feel myself being filled up again.
He doesn’t say anything, but I get my answer soon when he deftly flips me over so that I’m on my knees on the couch, then gets up, unbuttons his shirt and unzips himself, all in front of me.
He’s even more gorgeous than I thought possible, all broad shoulders and hard muscle, and even though I urgently need something in my pussy, I find my mouth opening instinctively for the magnificent cock that’s right in front of me.
He grins and slaps my face lightly with his cock. “Such a good little cock whore. But it’s your sweet little pussy I want right now … because I want my cock to taste of your pussy when you suck me off later.”
All I can do is look at him, wide-eyed, as he strides over to the other end of the couch behind me, and roughly pulls my legs further apart, so that I’m completely exposed and open and dripping, as though I were offering my pussy up to be used by him.
Which I am, of course …
It’s not long before I feel his fingers parting my pussy lips.
His cock follows soon after.
He’s so long and thick that it takes him a while to ease into me, despite my wetness, but once he’s in there it feels like heaven, as though every nerve in my inner walls was being stimulated.
Breathless, I rest my cheek on the upholstered armrest so I can look at him.
He smiles at me and begins moving in and out of me - first in smaller movements, possibly to get me accustomed to having that massive cock in me, then increasing them to the point where he’s moving in and out of me easily.
I can’t even talk at this point - all I can do is pant and moan and stare at him in wonderment at what he’s doing to me, to my body.
I’ve never experienced that much pleasure in my life, not with my fingers, not with any dildo …
Soon after he pulls my hair back so that I’m forced to arch my back even more as he begins pounding into me - and this time he lives up to his threat (or promise?) to be rough, smacking my ass with his free hand as he drives mercilessly into me.
The whole thing feels incredibly, sublimely obscene - the only sounds in the room are his grunts, my moans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the sound of his cock in my soaking pussy.
As I near my climax he pulls me up to him, his hands moving forward to grab my breasts as he kisses my forehead from above.
I turn towards him and he kisses me full on the mouth.
As I dissolve into his embrace I come, in a spine-tingling full-body orgasm that’s so intense that for a moment I think I’m going to pass out.
He holds still as my walls contract around him, pulling out only when I’ve collapsed, spent, against him.
As I look at him, dazed and happy, he pushes me back on the couch, so that I’m half-sitting, half-lying down, my head supported by the back of the couch.
“Ready for my turn?” he growls.
I smile at him.
“You know I’m yours to do with as you please, Dr. Morland,” I whisper.
“Sweet girl,” he murmurs, as he climbs onto the couch, so that his magnificent cock, still glistening from my juices, is bobbing in front of my face.
He tips my chin up with one hand and guides his cock into my mouth with the other.
As before, he starts out slow, pushing his thick shaft down my throat just enough to make me gag, then holding still so I have time to get used to it.
Once he feels me relax a bit he begins thrusting into me.
And this time he’s rough, inexorable. Before I know it, he’s got one hand wrapped tightly in my long hair and the other under my chin, and he’s going as deep as possible with each thrust, rutting into my mouth as though it were my pussy.
It’s not always easy to accommodate him, but it feels strangely exciting. I can’t say I’d ever fantasised about being dominated by him - I’d always thought he was the kind to make love - but there’s just something terribly erotic about the way he’s eyeing me as he uses my mouth, about the whole scenario, really.
I’d never have thought it would feel so good to give up all control to someone else, but then most people aren’t Sebastian Morland …
Eventually he pulls me off his cock and looks at me.
I imagine I must be a complete mess - I’ve got tears and saliva dripping down my chin to my breasts - but his eyes are dark with desire, darker than I’ve ever seen them, as he begins to fist his cock, staring at me all the while.
It doesn’t take long before I feel his hot cum hit my face. It hits my cheek at first, but when I instinctively open my mouth, he smiles and directs the rest of his ejaculate into it.
It’s pleasant, strangely salty, and as I lick my lips I see him glow at me, and I can’t help but smile back - he looks so terribly handsome, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this relaxed …
He sits down on the couch, pulls me to him, and kisses me, this time very tenderly.
“So you’re happy with me?” I whisper.
A roguish grin spreads across his face. “Do I look unhappy?”
“No … but you didn’t get to be as rough with me as you said you liked to be.”
He laughs.
“Oh, that! Well, Paige, I did go easy on you, I admit. Although you did take that face-fucking like a champ. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of experience, but it’s our first time together, and I didn’t exactly want you to run off screaming …”
“Oh, Dr. Morland,” I murmur as I smile at him. “You’re very sweet. I do appreciate it - especially given that it’s actually my first time ever with anyone -”
“It was your first time?” he exclaims, seemingly aghast, I’m not sure why.
“Well, I have experimented with a dildo, but this is the first time I’ve ever been with a man.”
He’s speechless for a moment.
“But – but you said you were on the Pill …”
“It’s not the most convenient thing to have a period when one’s working as a stripper,” I explain.
He’s looking at me with a strange expression on his face that I can’t quite read, an odd blend of agitation and tenderness and dismay.
“Oh, Paige,” he sighs finally. “I’m sorry. I really am. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.”
“B-but why? It was great,” I stammer, while I think inwardly: please don’t let him regret this.
He pulls me toward him, so that I’m nestling up to him, and strokes my hair.
“I don’t know, Paige, it’s just that I feel that a girl like you deserves something better than that for her first time. Something more romantic, more … meaningful, perhaps, if you know what I mean.”
Oh well, I guess it wasn’t very meaningful for him then, I think.
It’s a thought that for some reason makes me want to cry, but I resist that temptation.
“I didn’t come here looking for romance,” I manage to say, without my voice wobbling too much, although I’m glad he can’t see my face as it’s buried in his chest.
His broad, strong, manly chest … the only chest I ever wanted to lay my head on.
He stiffens slightly, but continues to hold me, and we sit there in awkward silence for a while, until I finally break it.
“Do you still want me to come here next week, Dr. Morland?”
He starts slightly, as though taken aback at my question, pauses a moment, then clasps me tighter to him.
“Yes, Paige. I do. That is, if you want to come here next week,” he says, with a fervency that makes me think that maybe, just maybe, he cares a little more than his earlier comment suggested.
“I do, Dr. Morland,” I murmur, and nuzzle up to him.
He strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head.
“Same deal, of course,” he adds, a tad hastily.
His voice is kind, infinitely kind and reassuring, but his words send a chill through me …
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I should probably
go soon, Dr. Morland,” my beautiful darling says to me as she looks up at me with those clear eyes of hers, eyes that seem suddenly to have a vulnerability to them that wasn’t there before. “That is … unless you would like me to do something more for you.”
Fuck, I hate it when she talks like that, as though she were a prostitute and I her john.
But that’s what it’s become, hasn’t it? I’ve just paid her for her “company”, as the euphemism goes. And not just for that - I suppose I’ve just unwittingly paid her for her virginity as well.
I can’t say I’ve ever imagined I’d be in this situation. And of all the people who might have been involved in a crazy thing like this it has to be her …
“It’s all right, Paige,” I say as I kiss her on her forehead. “You’ve … done a lot today as it is.”
She smiles - a bit sadly it seems to me - and disengages herself to get up, grabbing her bag and the clothes left strewn on the floor before going off to the bathroom.
For my part, I get up from the couch and zip up my pants.
I didn’t come here for romance, she said earlier.
What did she want then - money? or sex? Should this even matter to me? I mean, either way, she clearly got what she wanted, didn’t she? And I’ve just gotten to fuck the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, isn’t that what I wanted as well?
So why all this angst and self-hatred? …
I go over and pour myself a shot of brandy, which I consume in one go.
She emerges from the bathroom, now in regular clothes, looking for all the world like the archetypal sweet-girl-next-door.
“See you in class, Dr. Morland,” she says, almost timidly. “It’s all right, I’ll see myself out.”
Something - I don’t know what - compels me to go over to her as she’s getting her coat from the closet, take her in my arms, and give her a long, passionate kiss, a kiss that’s somehow meant to convey everything I feel about her, even if I don’t know myself what exactly that is.
She melts submissively into me as though it was the most natural thing in the world …
When I break off the kiss she looks at me questioningly, expectantly, as though asking me if I’m trying to indicate that I want her to stay for round two.
Not an unreasonable assumption, given that my cock is beginning to flex itself again, now that I’ve got her lovely body pressed against mine, even though that wasn’t my original intention.
Except I can’t bring myself to ask her to stay.
“I just wanted to kiss you again” is all I say by way of explanation as I help her into her coat and see her out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Another week’s gone by in the meantime … another week in which I’ve not been able to think of much apart from Dr. Morland.
Not just of what we did, not just of all that hot sex on his couch.
I mean, yes, I’ve gotten myself off more than a few times to memories of that evening.
But it’s the mixed signals that I can’t stop thinking about. First he didn’t want to fuck me, then he wanted to fuck me (and did, of course). He said he was going to be rough with me, and then he wasn’t, not really, at least not as much as he said he would be - he didn’t tie me up or slap or choke me.
On the other hand, at least I could understand those mixed signals to some extent.
What I don’t understand is why he seemed so happy after he came, at least until I told him I’d been a virgin up till he took me … and why, right after suggesting that what had happened wasn’t sufficiently meaningful for a first time, he seemed so tender, so passionate.
So vulnerable, even, when he kissed me before I left …
When I saw him in class on Wednesday he alternated between staring at me and studiously ignoring me, and then when I was leaving he said “See you soon, Ms. Lytton.”
There wasn’t anyone else around at that point, he could perfectly well have called me Paige - and for that matter he could have just grabbed me and kissed me or something.
And yet his voice was so soft and gentle when he said what he said, so different from his classroom manner, his tone with any of the other students …
I wish I knew what to think, wish I understood more about him. My body seems to instinctively trust him and his touch, but my mind isn’t sure what to think.
I did run into him in a strip club, after all, and he was the one who offered me the option of being paid by him rather than by the guys at the club …
Maybe it’s just that I don’t want him to think of me as a hooker. Unless hookers are his thing, and if so I probably shouldn’t be thinking of him in boyfriend terms!
But there’s no getting around it - maybe he didn’t pay me directly for sex, not quite, but he did pay me for some very sexy action that ended up resulting in sex … maybe a little too soon after.
He’d be perfectly entitled to think of me that way, I fear.
I’m almost getting used to this now - the shower, the dressing up, the drive to Dr. Morland’s while sitting on a towel (ha!) and wondering what he’s going to think when he sees today’s outfit under my coat (tiny wet look bandeau top that leaves lots of cleavage exposed and just a hint of underboob, combined with a microminiskirt and G-string).
Or more precisely, wondering how he’s going to react.
It’s funny, at the club it was kind of boring turning the audience on. I mean, it wasn’t exactly difficult, they were there for the specific purpose of being turned on, wanted to be turned on.
But Dr. Morland isn’t supposed to be turned on by me … and yet he is, against all odds, despite all the university regulations, despite all the taboos against teachers fucking their students.
Perhaps even despite himself …
He’s pretty quick to answer the door today.
Even better, he seems really happy …
“Hello, Paige,” he says, “please come in. It’s great to see you.”
And he looks like he means it - he’s beaming in a way that I’ve never seen him do before.
“Hi Dr. Morland,” I purr.
It’s hard not to return that radiant smile, and even after I get in and he closes the door, we stare at each other for a bit, smiling goofily at each other, before he approaches to help me take off my coat.
I hear his breath catch as he eases my coat off, and turn to smile at him.
“God, you’re gorgeous, Paige,” he growls as he grabs me and gathers me in his arms for a kiss.
It’s a deep, long kiss, one that leaves me dizzy and weak-kneed and all too happy to yield to him. I know it’s true that I’m hardly the world’s most experienced kisser, but there’s something about his kisses that just drives me nuts. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but between the sensual, masterful way he claims my mouth and the way he clasps me to him - fiercely, almost possessively - he just makes me feel owned, and I mean in the best possible way …
When we emerge for air, he hands me the usual envelope.
This time I’m the one who hesitates slightly, in this case before taking it from him, as I briefly consider telling him to keep it.
But then he winks at me - oh so roguishly - and I feel like I would almost be spoiling the fun if I were to get into a whole discussion of where we stand with each other now.
And fun, after all, is what we’re presumably both here for, isn’t it? …
I put the envelope away in my handbag as he’s hanging up my coat.
“I’ll see you in the living room, shall I?” I ask.
He turns to look at me, and there’s a long pause, during which he seems to be considering something or other.
“No, Paige,” he says finally. “No, I don’t want us to be in the living room today. I’ve got something else in mind.”
I look at him, a quizzical smile on my lips.
Having put away my coat, he returns to me and slides an arm around my bare waist.
This time his touch is insinuating, seductive, as is his voice.
�
�I’d like to see you in my bedroom, if you don’t have any objections to that.”
I snuggle up to him.
“No,” I murmur, “I can’t say I have any objections to that.”
I guess we’re at the point where we don’t have to pretend that all I’m doing here is dancing for him, and that any sexual contact that ensues is, so to speak, on the spur of the moment!
Well, either that, or he just couldn’t resist the outfit …
Which is quite possible, because even as he leads me off to his bedroom, he’s got one hand on my ass, and he keeps turning to beam at me …
“I suppose you don’t want me to dance for you today?” I breathe sultrily in his ear when we get to his room and approach his bed - I’m probably at least as drunk on lust as he is at this point.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Paige,” he says, smirking as he takes my hand and puts it on his burgeoning crotch.
I guess I’m finally getting to see Dr. Morland uncensored, and I must say I’m loving every moment of it! …
I smile at him as I unzip him and free his cock, which is already at full mast. “I’ve missed your cock, Dr. Morland,” I whisper.
He grins and raises an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”
“I’ve missed having your cock in me, Dr. Morland. I’ve been so horny, but my fingers don’t feel the same as a big, thick, juicy cock like yours. Also, I have to say I’ve missed the taste of your cock …”
I look at him meaningfully as I say that last bit, and it’s obvious he gets it - he flushes slightly, and his eyes take on a hungry look.
“Is that so, Paige?”
I nod.
He smiles - an impertinent bad-boy smile that’s new to me, a smile that makes my knees weak and my eyes widen, as though yielding to his lustful gaze.
“Well then, go ahead and suck my cock,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, eyeing me as he takes off his shirt. “I didn’t really get to try out your oral skills last time, why don’t you show me what you can do?”
Fuck, he’s cocky today, pun not intended (well, not entirely). So different from what I thought he’d be like … and so much hotter. If any other guy had talked like that to me, I’d have been tempted to slap him and leave him high and dry.
A Dance for Him Page 7