* * *
By Wednesday’s class, I’m desperate to see her again even as the battle between my brain and my cock rages on. So far, my greedy desire is winning hands-down.
Daisy walks in, head held high, in another skirt paired with a V-neck T-shirt that shows her cleavage off delightfully. She looks casual but sexy as fuck. She spins a bit as she sits, her skirt flaring to flash an enticing hint of upper thigh. Her eyes snap to mine, making sure I saw her show, and there’s a moment of freeze, where I’m holding my body in place by force, fighting against the urge to kiss her hello. That would be the kiss of death to my career, and we both know it.
She smirks a bit, knowing what her outfit and her sass do to me. Bratty girl needs a lesson. And I’m just the teacher to give her one.
The class is painfully slow, torture for us both as I loom near her desk in the middle of the front row. But I don’t make eye contact with her. That’d let her win this round. Instead, I keep my eyes scanning the room, calling on everyone except her, but I can feel her attention on me the whole time. I feel the heat of her gaze on my ass and on my crotch when I turn to face each side of the room. I sense her crossing and uncrossing her legs as I drive her crazy, teasing her with what she wants and knowing she can’t have in the middle of class.
By the time the clock ticks the hour past, my lesson for her benefit is having its own consequences for me. I’m glad my boxer briefs and jeans are holding me tight or else class would’ve been rather obscene. But I’m uncomfortable in the pinched confines, and she needs to pay for that too.
“Okay, class, until Friday. Complete the next unit’s homework problems, paying particular attention to the format for your answers. Dismissed.” I wait a beat, letting the din of everyone packing up and rushing for the door fill the room, then speak again, harsh and unforgiving. “Miss Phillips, I’d like to speak with you about your homework, if you have a moment?”
Her eyes are wide as saucers, fear sparking in their depths, but she nods.
I sit on my desk, letting my feet dangle as the room empties.
I see Daisy’s seatmate, Sabrina, lean toward her. She stage-whispers, “Good luck, Daisy. Do you want me to wait for you?”
Daisy offers her a smile. “Thanks, but it’s okay. I swear I was extra-precise with the homework. It can’t be all bad.” Sabrina nods but obviously doesn’t agree, firmly in the camp that believes I’m a math monster that eats students’ GPAs for breakfast.
Right now, I’m thinking there’s something else I’d rather eat . . . Daisy’s sweet little pussy. But I have class in this very room in fifteen minutes, so there’s no time for what I want to do to her. Time. I need time.
Finally alone, she approaches the desk, standing between my spread legs, but far enough away that it’d seem appropriate to anyone who peeked in the room. “Yes, sir? My homework?” she says, but the lift of her eyebrow says she knows I didn’t keep her here to talk about the A she got on the last set of problems I assigned.
Keeping the double-talk going, I ask, “How were you feeling after Monday’s work? Any concerns, problems we need to go over?”
She digs the toe of her shoe into the floor, looking down and every inch the innocent that she is, but then she remembers herself and stands tall and proud. The reminder of how inexperienced she is sets me afire, and I grip the edge of the desk to stop from touching her.
“No, I felt good . . . really good about the work. Ready to learn more, in fact.” She smiles, an invitation in her eyes.
“Another tutoring session then? You really are capable of such exceptional work. You’re just raw and untrained. I’m happy to mentor you.” I’m offering more, so much more than math help, or hell, even sexual guidance, but I don’t know how to broach the breadth and depth of what I want with her in this classroom where we could be overheard.
“Yes, Professor Daniels. That’d be great. I appreciate your help,” she says, her voice dripping sex.
I grab a Post-It note from my desk, scribbling my address down. “Meet me here at seven tonight and we’ll make sure the previous lesson stuck. We’ll build from there.”
She steps forward to take the paper from my hand, the electricity shooting between us at the barest touch. She clutches it to her chest. “Yes, sir. Seven tonight for tutoring.”
She moves to step away, and I can’t bear to let her go without more. I hop from the desk, grabbing her upper arm to stop her. “Oh, and Daisy?”
She looks at me expectantly, and I do a quick sweep of the doorway, making sure no students are entering. Seeing no one, I slip my hand under her skirt, pinching her ass sharply. She gasps, but as I soothe the sting with a brush of my palm, she moans quietly. I whisper harshly into her ear, “Don’t flash what’s mine to anyone else. You’d best take care when you wear skirts like this or I’ll have to spank your bratty ass for showing off to anyone but me. Understood?”
She nods silently. I smooth the fabric down over her ass, making sure it’s as long as possible and hiding the treasure of her pussy from every other fucker on campus. Stepping back, I give her a raised eyebrow and a smirk, knowing that she’s already wet for me. It feels like a win, even though I’m equally anxious for tonight.
* * *
By seven, I’m not rock-hard anymore. I’m a fucking steel rod, ready to claim her virginity like the cocky bastard I am. The doorbell rings, and I open it to see Daisy wearing the skirt from earlier. I grin, ready to flip it up and fill her.
But I force myself to have some manners. “Come in.”
She steps in nervously, looking around like my space is going to give her insight into who I am. Actually, that might be true, I think, as I glance to the living room, seeing through her eyes. A comfy leather couch claims most of the room, surrounded with a big screen television and bookcases full of a mix of textbooks and comics. It looks like what it is . . . a bachelor’s pad. Mostly function, not form.
She wrings her hands together, stammering. “I took the bus from school so no one would see my car nearby. I didn’t want to cause any problems by being here.”
She’s smart, so fucking smart. I honestly hadn’t even thought of that, my mind too tangled up in thoughts of her spread wide before me to worry about how it would look to have a student’s car sitting in my driveway. It’s not likely anyone whould notice, but it’s still a senseless risk. “Good thinking.” She preens at the simple praise.
“Want something to eat? I made dinner, nothing fancy but it’s edible,” I say, leading her into the kitchen. She looks around again, the small table set for two with simple plates and silverware.
“You made me dinner?” she asks, obviously surprised. She’s so easily pleased by the simplest of gestures. I wonder if she thought I was just going to attack her when she walked through the door. Admittedly, it did occur to me, but I want her first time to be special, to set the tone for more for us.
I spoon the noodles on the plates as I gesture for her to sit down. Her skirt flares only slightly as she sits, proof that her move in class was intentional. The thought of her trying to seduce me turns me on. As if she needs to do anything more than simply be her beautiful, brilliant self. “Just pasta and jarred sauce. The bread was already garlic-coated too. I’m not really much of a cook, but a date requires food, typically, so I did my best.”
She smiles wide. “Is that what this is? A date?”
I realize with a start that she has no idea at the thoughts rolling through my head. No experience with which to compare. She probably thinks this is some casual fuck for me, just a notch in my bedpost of co-eds I’ve done this with a hundred times before.
It’s not. She’s not.
I sit across from her, urging her to eat. “Daisy, I don’t want to mince words here or talk in veiled innuendo like earlier. I want you to be honest with me.” It’s not a question, but she nods anyway. “I don’t fuck students. Ever. It’s unprofessional and could have dire consequences for me.”
She swallows the mouthful of sp
aghetti, wiping at her lips with her napkin. “But I thought—”
I interrupt her. “You thought you were coming here tonight for me to fuck you?” She nods, her eyes shining with confusion. “And God help me, I want to fuck you, pop your sweet cherry and claim your pussy as mine. But . . ." I pause, making sure her eyes are focused on me. “But I am not willing to do that casually. If I wanted a casual fuck, I could have one of dozens. If I’m risking everything here, it’s only if it’s more.”
Her smile dawns slowly as my words hit home, their meaning resonating in the space between us. “More. I like the sound of more.” She sighs, impossibly more beautiful, as she commits to something she doesn’t fully understand. But I do. And isn’t that the point? I’ll teach her.
I stand, leaving my barely-touched dinner. I’m not hungry for food. I’m hungry for her. Her pure innocence. Her sassy mouth. Her sexy body. Her brilliant mind. Her sweet spirit. All of her. All mine.
Taking her hand, I guide her to stand, cupping her chin in my other hand. “Are you sure, Daisy? There are no second chances here. No do-overs or retakes. Choose carefully.” My voice is hard, brooking no argument, demanding that she think before speaking.
After staring into my eyes, searching for something she must find, she speaks. “I’m sure. Make love to me, Connor.”
I smirk. “Oh, honey, I’m not going to make love to you. I’m going to fuck you raw and hard until you fall apart for me, my name the only thing on your lips. But I will fuck you with all my heart, Daisy.” I want her to hear the difference. This won’t be some soft, romantic moment like her teenage self dreamed about. I’m going to claim her, ruin her for any other man but me, but it won’t matter because my cock is the only one her pussy is ever going to get.
I lead her down the hallway to my bedroom. The bedside lamp is on, but she doesn’t scan this room like the others. No, her eyes stay locked on me, waiting for my lead, my direction.
I guide her to stand beside the bed, dropping to my knees to slip her shoes off. Tossing them aside, I run my hands up her legs, feeling the taut muscle beneath the silk of her skin. Up under her skirt, I cup her ass, kneading her flesh in my large palms. She whimpers, her hands shooting to my shoulders to hold herself steady as she rocks into my hands.
“You’re wet for me, aren’t you? I can smell you from here, sweet like candy, begging me to lick you all up.” I pull her panties down and off, laying them neatly on my bedside table.
She grins down at me. “If you keep taking my panties, I’m not going to have any left to wear. You want me walking around campus naked beneath my skirts where anyone could see my pussy if the wind blew just right?”
Her bratty challenge reminds me of her behavior in class today. I rise, crowding her against the bed, but to her credit, she doesn’t fall backward. Instead, she presses her body against mine. “You’ll wear panties at all times unless I tell you otherwise, Daisy. No one sees this pussy but me. No one touches it but me. That includes you. You don’t touch yourself unless I say so. I’ll give you all the pleasure you could ever need. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, her sass spurring me on.
“Turn around and bend over the bed.” She lifts an eyebrow but obeys. I flip her skirt up, exposing her round cheeks to my eyes. I can see her slick pussy, so needy already. I cup her ass in my hands, squeezing the flesh roughly. “I’d considered taking it easy on you, postponing the punishment for your behavior in class today or maybe letting you off this one time since you’re still learning, after all. But something tells me by the way you’re still pushing me that you don’t want me to let you skate by. You want this, don’t you?” I ask her, but I already know the answer. And when she looks back at me, mouth open in anticipation as she gasps, she knows that I’ve already figured her out. I grin ferally at her, letting her see the animal she’s provoked.
I rear back and deliver a sharp smack to her right cheek. She jolts forward and cries out, but before the pain even registers, I’m already soothing her pinkened skin. “That’s for teasing me in class, knowing full fucking well that you were this close to showing off that pussy to every fucker in the room.” Her hips roll under my hands, begging for more. Not one to disappoint, I smack her left cheek, the sound echoing in the room. I immediately trace my palm there again, taking away the sting. “And that one’s for the bratty sass that you know drives me insane, but I think that’s why you do it, isn’t it, honey?”
Daisy groans into the comforter, hips bucking and her honey spreading down her thighs. I spread her cheeks, wanting a closer look at her pink center. “Fuck, Daisy. Know what you get when you take your punishment like a good girl?” My breath is hot on her pussy, her intoxicating scent invading my pores, filling me with longing.
“What? What do good girls get?” she breathes out, her voice tight with eagerness.
Though I use my mouth, I don’t answer in words. My tongue laps at her cream, tasting her cotton-candy sweetness right from the source. She cries out, instinctively spreading her legs to let me have better access. I moan against her, knowing the vibration will spread to her clit. I follow the tremor and swirl my tongue against her button, circling over and over.
“Oh, my God, Connor. I didn’t know it could feel like that. Fuck, so good.” Her cries are music to my ears as her body shudders against me.
I slip a finger in her pussy, fucking her slow and shallow to test how tight she is. She damn-near choked my fingers at the slightest invasion before, and I know my cock is going to be in tortured heaven inside her. But I need to get her ready or I’ll never get inside without hurting her.
She relaxes, pressing back against me, seeking more. “Yes, honey. That’s it. Take it and come on my hand and my mouth.” She does as instructed, working herself enough that I’m able to add a second finger, and then a third, though it’s a tight fit and I know it has to be bordering on pain for her. “Good girl, Daisy. Let me in so I can get you ready for me.”
The thought of my filling her with my cock triggers her, and she bucks wildly, coming instantly. The gush of her cream eases the way, and my three fingers slip in and out easily as I push her higher and longer, wanting every drop of pleasure for her.
She collapses forward, the bed and my arm wrapped around her middle holding her up. I slip my fingers from her pussy and straight into my mouth, wanting more of her taste on my tongue. I could eat her out every day and still want more.
I pull her to stand, spinning her in my arms and covering her mouth with a kiss. She’s gasping by the time I let her breathe. “Are you done, Daisy? Or can you take more?”
Her wicked grin tells me the answer even before she speaks. “More, please, Professor.” The return to calling me ‘professor’ during such a sexy moment should turn me off, but instead, it riles me up, playing up the taboo of what we’re doing.
“Okay, if you want it like that, Miss Phillips,” I say, emphasizing her formal name, “let’s see if you can follow directions to the letter for once.” It’s a mild admonishment, but she rises to the challenge, ever competitive and willing to do her best.
“Take off your clothes.” I step back to give her just enough space to follow the command, and I watch as she pulls the skirt down, then slips her T-shirt over her head. She pauses for a heartbeat as she reaches back to unclasp her bra, but when she sees my reprimanding look, she undoes it and tosses it aside.
She stands before me, fully nude and absolutely stunning. I want to trace every inch of her body with my tongue, memorize her every dip and curve with my hands, measure just how much she can physically take underneath me.
I yank the comforter back, wanting her in my bed. “Lie down for me.” She smiles softly and climbs to the middle of the bed. Her dark hair spreads against the pillow in a halo, her tan skin contrasting starkly against the white sheets. She looks like an angel.
She writhes against the fabric, stretching her body out and extending her arms wide. “Satin sheets? Do you always sleep on satin or did y
ou do this for tonight?”
I consider telling her a lie but decide if I want her truth, I need to give her my own. “I usually sleep and fuck on satin. It makes it easy to move and position you where I want you, and the slip of it against your skin is decadent. Do you like it?”
She nods and reaches for me, but I hold back to undress. I yank my shirt over my head, and when I reach for my belt, I realize she’s sitting up, watching me with rapt attention. I slowly slide the leather through, torturing us both with the delay but loving the way her breathing picks up. I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck, racing with excitement. My belt undone, I make quicker work of the rest and then I’m standing before her naked.
I’ve never felt more vulnerable. I’m in good shape and certainly not old by any standard, but I’m damn-near ten years older than Daisy, who’s likely only paid attention to the shirtless college boys in the gym. I let the fire I feel for her shine in my eyes, daring her to find me lacking in any way. We stare at each other for a moment, and then the tension breaks as she breathes, “Please, Connor.”
She looks at me, worried for a second, but the look in my eyes assures her as I climb in next to her. There’s a bit of fear in her eyes as I position myself between her legs, but my cock is ready to take care of her as she gives me a trusting look.
Slowly, I lower down to her, covering her with my body and pressing her to the bed to grind against her, not entering her yet but teasing at the motion. She feels silkier than the satin sheets against my skin, so smooth. “Fuck, Daisy. I need you. Let me in. I need you to say it, honey.”
She bites her lip, but the words come easily. “Fuck me, Connor. I want you to be my first.”
I press up on one hand, the other going to my shaft to guide my way to her entrance. I need to go slow, give her an inch at a time so I don’t hurt her. I breathe deeply to fortify my resolve, the urge to slam balls-deep in one stroke riding me hard.
Instead of words, I lean down, kissing her tenderly to encourage her to relax, letting my lips and my body language tell her that it’s all going to be okay. Slowly, in sweet, exquisite torture, I stretch her out, working my cock in and out in short, gentle strokes.
Satin and Pearls: The Virgin Diaries Page 5