But that has nothing to do with my little errand for the morning, pressed in between breakfast and getting to the office to prepare for the final I’m giving at noon.
“It’s a beautiful choice, sir,” the salesperson comments as I slide the string of pearls over my fingers. I can’t help it. The sensation makes my cock stiffen, but I guess that’s to be expected. Daisy’s pearls have been washed, and I did give her that necklace of a different sort as promised . . . but this is something even more significant, a start of an new heirloom, something permanent and meaningful for us. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” I reply, shifting over a little. “I’d like them wrapped in satin, if you have it. And I’d like to add something a little bit special to the package. Would you help me over here?”
The salesperson sees what I’m looking at and grins. “A fine choice, sir.”
Daisy
“I still can’t believe you took summer classes, but I’ll see you soon,” Arianna says in my ear as I bounce out of the student center where I’ve been wasting time until four o’clock, when Connor’s final ends. “Seriously, I know you love the guy, but studying during summer?”
“You know I’ve been doing more than studying,” I joke, making her laugh. “And the internship . . . how’s that?”
“Good! I mean, I’m just working as a front desk receptionist right now, but I’m just glad to have my foot in the door,” Ari says, excited. “Hopefully, I can move up to something more hands-on next semester and really start learning. Good part right now, though . . . the eye candy, girl.”
“Oh?” I ask, excited for her . . . for both the internship she wanted and that she might have her sights on someone. “Anyone in particular?”
“The CEO,” Arianna says, her voice giving away that she’s crushing on him. “Remember when I said he was probably just a rich hotshot? He’s that, I’m sure, but Oh, my God. You know the M&M slogan, melts in your mouth and not in your hand? I think I want to test that theory on him . . . bet I could get him to melt in my hand, and my mouth. Probably a few other key places too.”
I burst out laughing. “Sounds like you’re interested in learning something, for sure,” I tease.
“Yeah, well, he’s sexy like it’s his job, and I only get to see him for a few seconds a day, but I damn sure get all the eyeful I can during those few seconds.”
I grin even though she can’t see me. “That sounds just like you. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get to see him more. They’ll no doubt bring you back next semester after you knock their socks off.”
She sighs dreamily. “Thanks, chica. You’re right. I got this.”
“That’s my girl. When you get back, dinner together, okay?”
“That sounds great. It’ll be weird not dorming together this year, but I’ll admit that having my own place this summer has been kind of sweet. No one but me to clean up after.” I ignore her dig at my tendency to leave my dirty dishes soaking in the sink because it’s a battle we’ve good-naturedly fought more than once already. “And my new digs are right between campus and work, so it’s perfect.”
“And you can come over to our place anytime.” The words feel good on my tongue . . . our place. “Connor’s going to find himself in charge of a nerd harem,” I joke. “Oh, wait, you wouldn’t qualify. You’re not a nerd.”
Arianna laughs. “Nope, but I love nerds. Especially you, girl. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“Okay, babe. Bye,” I reply, approaching the math building. Bounding up the steps, I see Professor Patel leaving and give him a wave. “Hey, Professor. I’m feeling good after that final.”
“You should, Miss Phillips,” Patel says, stopping. “It’s not official yet, but congratulations on your A. It was a pleasure. See you this fall.”
I’m even more excited as I nearly run down the hall to Connor’s office, closing and making sure to lock the door behind me as soon as I see he’s alone, standing at his whiteboard, writing something I can’t see. “Hey, Professor, can I talk to you about my grade?” I tease, my voice full of faux-innocent naughtiness.
“Hello, beautiful.” He doesn’t take my bait, staying serious though he smiles. “I can tell by your smile that you heard about your grade. Patel told me. I’m so proud of you.”
I cross the office, barely giving him time to cap his pen before grabbing him by the arms and dragging him to his chair. “Thank you, sir. This good girl needs a reward for all those long, hard hours of math,” I purr before kissing him. “I can’t wait until after dinner.”
Connor grins wolfishly. “A reward, you say? Something beyond the A? Maybe something a bit bigger, thicker, harder . . .?” The return to sexy double-meanings as we tease each other is fun, a hint of our previous dips into being bad together.
He grabs around my waist, pulling me to stand between his spread knees. Holding me in his powerful arms, his lips trail down my neck to the V-neck of my T-shirt, licking and sucking on the mounds of my breasts as he thumbs my nipples through the cotton. It’s amazing. Connor’s touch can send shivers through my body every time, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, but sneaking little trysts in his office has an extra-naughty appeal. I mean, we’re in a relationship, and everyone’s okay with that . . . but sex in the office is still a no-no. But that’s never stopped us before.
I lift my arms to help Connor take my shirt off, gasping as he doesn’t even undo my bra but lifts my right breast out of the cup to consume my nipple, sucking hard and making me cry his name out softly. “Connor, fuck . . . that feels amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” Connor says, switching to my other breast. We know we can’t take a ton of time. Every time in his office is truly a ‘quickie,’ but I’ve discovered a passion for both the fast and dirty and the slow and loving. Reaching down, I undo his jeans while he lavishes my breasts with his tongue and lips, nipping at my skin when I wrap my hand around his cock and pump him hard and fast.
“Mmm, on the desk,” I gasp, letting go of his cock, hurriedly unbuttoning my own jeans and shoving them down my legs to bunch at my ankles. “Hard, baby.”
I lie on the desk, just like so many times before as Connor pushes his pants down a little more before lining the tip of his cock up with my wet entrance. He teases me for a few seconds, dragging it up to near my asshole. “Mmm, soon, I’m going to take your virgin ass too, and then all your cherries will be mine . . . mouth, pussy, and your tight little ass. All mine.”
The thought is intoxicating. He’s fingered my ass before, and while it feels amazing during sex, afterward, I can’t help but blush at the dirty things he does to me. I think the innocent blush is part of what he loves about doing it.
I moan, wondering if he’s going to push into my tight pucker now, but he just teases me. “I got you something,” he groans, voice tight with lust.
“I can feel that,” I say with a seductive smile, looking over my shoulder at him.
His cocky grin is all arrogance. “That too, but I meant that.” He lifts his chin toward a long, skinny box on the desk, black with a white ribbon tied around it. “Open it.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue, wanting his cock more than any gift, but I hear the order, and before I know what I’m doing, my hands reach for the box. As I try to untie the bow, Connor slips along my folds, rubbing from my ass to my clit with his cockhead, spreading my cream and his precum all over me, making me sloppy wet with the combination of us. I finally get the bow undone and open the box to find . . . a long chain of rubber beads, pearlized white and gradually getting bigger until the ring on one end.
“What’s this?” I ask, already knowing the answer but wanting him to say it. I bite my lip, waiting desperately for his filthy words.
He leans over me, covering me with his hard body and pressing me against the hard wood of the desk, to growl in my ear. “Those are the pearls I’m gonna slip inside your ass, one at a time, bigger and bigger, until you’re ready to take my cock in your tight hole. B
ecause when I get that cherry, I’m going to ride you hard, Daisy, and I need you prepared for that. I meant to give them to you tonight, but right now, I want nothing more than to fuck your pussy with them in your ass, filling you so fucking full. Can you do that? Take the pearls in your ass like a good girl?”
I whimper but nod, so lost in lust I’m unable to form words.
He lifts off me, slipping the pearls along my pussy to coat them in honey before pressing the smallest one against my ass. “Relax.”
I exhale and I feel the pearl slip inside. It feels odd, but good. Connor rubs my clit, and as I buck back, searching for his hand, another pearl slides inside. Or was it two? I can’t tell. All I know is I feel full but also empty, my pussy pulsing desperately to be filled too.
“Fuck me, Connor. Please,” I beg.
He lines his rock-hard cock up with my pussy, sliding all the way in with one deep thrust. “Mmm . . . you feel so good, satin walls gripping my cock,” he growls as he grinds deep inside me. “I could stay inside you forever.”
I stifle a cry as he thrusts again. It’s fast, deep, and brutal, just what my body needs as Connor hammers my pussy with his cock, both of us pushing the other higher. I squeeze his cock with every thrust, milking him and encouraging him to give me more, to take me higher.
Of course Connor can. He grunts and groans, adding to the heat of our intense fucking as he begins to move the string of pearls in and out of my ass, fucking both my holes. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined, so much stimulation as he sometimes thrusts into me with his cock and the pearls at once, sometimes alternating. He keeps me on my toes, literally and figuratively, not knowing what to expect as he pounds me into the desk.
I slap my hand over my mouth, stifling the cries of my ecstasy so no one in the hallway can hear, even though a part of me wants them to, is turned on that they’ll hear my Professor fucking my student pussy and ass.
He speeds up, his cock swelling and making me fight back a scream as my body trembles before exploding in a massive climax that leaves me gasping for breath. I squeeze the desk edge as Connor strangles back a cry before coming hard, his warm seed filling my body and making me tremble again in what I’ve come to call aftershock orgasms, tears of joy trickling from the corners of my eyes.
When it’s over, I sigh happily, totally spent for the moment.
Connor sits in his chair, pulling me into his lap, and I rest my head on his shoulder as he twirls a lock of my black hair around his finger. “Hey, Daisy? I was hoping you could help me with an equation. Think you can take a look?”
I blink, a little surprised, but I nod. “Uhh, you need my help?”
He leads me toward the whiteboard. “What do you think?”
I look at the equation, then back at him.
C+D=F
If it wasn’t for the hopeful look in his eyes, I’d probably be lost. Connor plus Daisy equals forever.
“Well, first, we need to solve for the variables. What’s the expression for F?” I tease, not wanting to get my hopes up that he means what I think he does. But my heart is transparent to Connor and he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Connor nods, going over to his desk and getting a small flat box that he brings back before getting on a knee. “I love you. With all that I am, all that I have, all I ever will have. All I can think of is you. Daisy Phillips, will you marry me?”
He opens the box, and inside, I see a beautiful string of pearls, and strung on them, resting precisely in the center, is a diamond ring, sparkling on a bed of white satin.
I swallow and nod as Connor takes out the pearls and pulls the ring from them, making me grin widely. “Yes, Connor! Oh, my God, yes!”
He slips the ring on my finger, and I hold it up, admiring the sparkly diamond that symbolizes so much more than I’d ever dreamed possible. He kisses me, sweet and deep, just like our love.
I pull back, telling him, “But you made a mistake in your equation.”
“What?” Connor asks, the arrogant smirk on his face telling me just how clever he thought he was being. “I thought it was pretty good, myself.”
“True . . . but like you taught me, you have to identify all your variables precisely,” I admonish. I pick up the marker, adding to the equation so that it reads . . . C+D+1=F.
Connor’s eyes widen in comprehension, and he pulls me tightly, spinning me around. “As you like to tell me, the answer is still the same. You’re mine. Forever. Both of you.”
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Preview: Dirty Talk
Derrick
My black leather office chair creaks, an annoying little trend it’s developed over the past six months that’s the primary reason I don’t use it in the studio. Admittedly, that’s probably for the better because if I had a chair this comfortable in the studio, I’d be too relaxed to really be on point for my shows. Still, it’s helpful to have something nice like this office since it’s a hell of a big step up from the days when my office was also the station’s break room. “All right, hit me. What’s on the agenda for today’s show?”
My co-star, Susannah, checks her papers, making little checkmarks as she goes through each item. She’s an incessant checkmarker, and I have no idea how the fuck she can read her sheets by the end of the day. “The overall theme for today is cheaters, and I’ve got several emails pulled for that so we can stay on track. We’ll field calls, of course, and some will be on topic and some off, like always. I’ll try and screen them as best I can, and we should be all set.”
I nod, trying to mentally prep myself for another three-hour stint behind the mic, offering music, advice, hope, and sometimes a swift kick in the pants to our listeners. Two years ago, I never would’ve believed that I’d be known as the ‘Love Whisperer’ on a radio talk segment called the same thing. Part Howard Stern, part Dr. Phil, part DJ Love Below, I’ve found a niche that’s just . . . unique.
I started out many years ago as a jock, playing football on my high school team with dreams of college ball. A seemingly short derailment after an injury led me to do sports reporting for my high school’s news and I fell in love.
After that, my scholarships to play football never came, but it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I decided to chase after a sports broadcast degree instead, marrying my passion for football and my love of reporting.
I spent four years after graduation doing daily sports talks from three to six as the afternoon drive-home DJ. It wasn’t a big station, just one of the half-dozen stations that existed as an alternative for people who didn’t want to listen to corporate pop, hip-hop, or country. It was there I received that fateful call.
Looking back, it’s kind of crazy, but a guy had called in bitching and moaning about his wife not understanding his need to follow all these wild superstitions to help his team win.
“I’m telling you D, I went to church and asked God himself. I said, if you can bless the Bandits with a win, I’ll show myself true and wear those ugly ass socks my pastor gave me for Christmas the year before and never wash them again. You know what happened?”
Of course, everyone could figure out what happened. Still, I respectfully told him that I didn’t think his unwashed socks were doing a damn thing for his beloved team on the basketball court, but if he didn’t put those fuckers in the washing machine, they were sure going to land him in divorce court.
He sighed and eventually gave in when I told him to wash the socks, thank his wife for putting up with his shit, and full-out romance her to bed and do his damndest to make up for his selfish ways.
And that was that. A new show and a new me were born. After a few marketing tweaks, I’ve been the so-called ‘Love Whisperer’ for almost a year now, helping people who ask for advice to get the happily ever after they want.
Ironically, I’m singl
e. Funny how that works out, but all the good advice I try to give stems from my parents who were happily married for over forty years before my mom passed. I won’t settle for less than the real thing, and I try to advise my listeners to do the same.
And then there’s the sex aspect of my job.
Talking about relationships obviously involves discussing sex with people, as that’s one of the major areas that cause problems for folks. At first, talking about all the crazy shit people want to do even made me blush a little, but eventually, it’s just gotten to be second nature.
Want to talk about how to get your wife to massage your prostate? Can do. Want to talk about how your girlfriend wants you to wear Underoos and call her Mommy? Can do. Want to talk about your husband never washing the dishes, and how you can get him to help? I can do that too.
All-in-one, real relationships at your service. Live from six to nine, five days a week, or available for download on various podcast sites and clip shows on the weekends. Hell of a lot for a guy who figured making it would involve becoming the voice of some college football team.
So I want to do a good job. And that means working well with Susannah, who is the control-freak yin to my laissez-faire yang. “Thanks. I know this week’s topics from our show planning meeting, but I spaced on tonight’s focus.”
Susannah nods, unflappable. “No problem. Do you want to scan the emails or just do your thing?”
I smile at her. She already knows the answer. “Same as always, spontaneous. You know that even though I was a Boy Scout, being prepared for this doesn’t do us any favors. I sound robotic when I read ahead. First read, real reactions work better and give the listeners knee-jerk common sense.”
Satin and Pearls: The Virgin Diaries Page 11