Instructing Emily

by Lyla Sinclair

  “Hi,” I said as I stood awkwardly by the door.

  “Hi,” he replied, his eyes intent on mine. “Join me?” He pulled back the covers. As I walked over, he added, “Without the towel…please?” I couldn’t resist him any better when he asked nicely than I could when he commanded me as his slave.

  My body had chilled while I was stalling, afraid to come out of the bathroom, so when I climbed in next to him, he felt like an electric blanket. I wanted to snuggle into him but I didn’t. I had to know where this was leading first. I couldn’t get too comfortable and let my guard down. I had to—

  He rose up over me and kissed me, sweetly then passionately, and then so deeply my head pushed the pillow flat and I could feel the bed beneath it. He kissed me until he ran out of breath, but as he relaxed onto his pillow I took control, attacking him with my needy lips, plunging my tongue into his mouth to do battle with his.

  When I finally released him, he began nibbling at my earlobe then sucking at the base of my throat. It was just like I’d dreamed. As if we were lovers. I wanted to let this go on forever, his mouth on my body, his teeth grazing my skin…

  But I needed to know.

  Harnessing all the willpower I possessed, I took a deep breath and placed my hand on his chest, pressing until he got the message. He stopped and looked into my eyes questioningly.

  “This is wonderful,” I said. “But it’s kind of a one-eighty from everything else we did this weekend.”

  He blew out a loud breath. “And you’re a female so you need to talk about this.” His finger traced figure eights on my stomach.

  “And you give lectures for a living, so I know you’re capable of it,” I replied, resisting the allure of his touch. Perhaps I had learned to overcome distractions.

  He chuckled and let his head drop to the pillow. “Where do you want to start?” He stared up at the ceiling then sighed like someone about to tackle a monumental job.

  “With you and me, of course.”

  He turned his face toward mine and I was struck by the warmth in his eyes. “Well, as I told you, I was attracted to you immediately, but I was still married and doing everything I could to keep my wife happy. On some level, I must have known she wouldn’t just stick around unless I made it worth her while, but denial can be a comforting thing.”

  “It sure can.” I thought about how many excuses I’d made for my deadbeat dad and selfish mother before I finally accepted that they were incapable of caring about anyone but themselves.

  “After she left me, you showed up in another class, and I always felt like a weight was lifted off me when I saw you. But when I’d go home and try to fantasize about you, you’d turn into a dark-haired version of her and the anger would return. There was something about you that made me think you came from money. I never could put my finger on it…the way you put an outfit together maybe. I don’t know.”

  “It reminded you of her.”

  “Not of her, exactly, but of the expectations, the demands…”

  “You were right. I was well-off growing up, but I wouldn’t think it still showed since I was cut off at eighteen and have had to struggle on my own since then.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Later,” I replied. “You’re not getting off that easily.” I noticed that, instead of reminding me he was the master, he smiled and pushed a lock of hair from my eye.

  “As time went on, you may have noticed I started asking more questions in my classes. That was specifically so I could hear your voice. I was always impressed with your answers in class, then rather dismayed when I graded your tests…and a little disappointed, since I wanted you to be pretty and smart.” He smiled mischievously.

  I blew out a pseudo-annoyed breath at him. “I spent those tests staring at your profile while you worked at your computer!”

  “Well, regardless of your test scores, I was still attracted, but you seemed so young and fresh, and I was so angry and cynical about women. I knew you didn’t need my issues.”

  “So while waiting for me to get old and stale, were you dating?” I asked, trying not to sound jealous.

  “Not exactly…well, I had encounters. Not usually one-night stands, but not really relationships either. They provided some sexual release but no real satisfaction.” I grunted sarcastically, annoyed at the women who’d partaken of his body while I was dreaming of him night after night.

  “Then late one night I met a woman online. We sort of hit it off.” Now the green-eyed monster attacked me full force. I didn’t want him hitting it off with another woman, ever. Online bitch! But I said, “Mmm-hmmm…” very calmly so as not to derail the story.

  “She made it clear she was into being sexually dominated. At first it sounded freaky, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a way to get back the feeling of power I’d lost.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” I said, not sure if I wanted to know the rest.

  “We met a few times and I felt more or less cured. Then you showed up in yet another class, but this time, instead of my fantasies running amok, I was in control. You were mine to command, completely. Those were some of the most satisfying solo orgasms I’ve ever had.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Glad to be of service,” I said.

  “I realized you were getting your undergrad degree and you’d been on my mind for years. I kept trying to imagine how creepy it would be for you if one of your ex-professors asked you out. I drove to your apartment one day and sat in my car, trying to decide between knocking on your door and calling.”

  “And you did neither?” I asked incredulously.

  “You came walking out, hand-in-hand with Jonathon Mercer, all dressed up like you had a big date.”

  “That was his journalism honor society banquet!” I said. “He begged me to go with him because he didn’t have a date. We’re friends.” I sighed loudly, thinking of all this time wasted.

  “Well, it really brought home the fact that I was too old and jaded, and you were out there living your normal twenty-two-year-old life with boyfriends and parties and I just didn’t fit in.”

  I thought about how wrong he was and how he’d fit so well into every part of me.

  “I wish—geez, I thought you didn’t even notice me except as a student in your class.

  You didn’t seem to remember me from one semester to another.”

  “I was trying to be professional. I didn’t want to be some weird, old, leering professor.”

  “Old,” I repeated as I considered the irony of the statement. I checked his face. Just as I thought, he didn’t even have crinkles around his eyes yet.

  “Then a year later or so, you showed up in one of my graduate classes. After that one was over, I’d decided to give it a try with you, but then there you were, enrolled in the next one.”

  “Are you saying if I hadn’t taken this last class with you, you would have asked me out five months sooner?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And if I hadn’t done a favor for a friend two years ago…?” I wanted to beat my head against the wall at the missed opportunities.

  “Then, this semester, you were failing my class and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t pass you undeservedly, just to ask you out—pesky ethics—but who would want to go out with someone who’d failed them?” At this point, I had to laugh at the ridiculousness of our situation. It was either laugh or cry. I’d been so lonely for him forever and he’d needed me. We were right under each other’s noses yet neither of us acted.

  “I don’t believe this,” I said. “I just don’t—wait, what was this weekend about? If you’ve had feelings for me forever, what was all this master-slave stuff?”

  “It turned out that I wasn’t completely over the humiliation of my marriage.” He looked away for a moment as if the negative feelings had come rushing back. “This time I couldn’t bring myself to put it all out there until I knew it would be a two-way street.” I was
relieved when he met my gaze again. “Once you came to my office and we were alone together, I had that feeling that you were a woman I’d do anything for, and it scared me.”

  I thought about this quietly. It made sense in a weird sort of way.

  “I wanted a woman who I knew would do anything for me too…and, being a guy, my solution was to prove it via the sexual route. More concrete than all that talking.”

  “So I’ve passed all your tests?” I asked.

  “With flying colors. Do you have any for me?”

  “Well you’ve finally passed the honesty test…” But I thought I deserved a little retribution. “Wait here.” I went to his closet and got a couple neckties that I’d found behind the robe.

  “Allison gave me those,” he warned. “I should have thrown them away. Just seemed wasteful. I’m sure they were expensive.”

  “All the better,” I said. “Now that we’re past the honesty test, it’s time for you to learn about trust.” I grabbed one wrist and tied it to a bedpost, then the other. He didn’t fight me.

  “I guess I’ve earned this,” he said.

  “Oh, this is just the beginning. Wait until I tie you facedown.” I giggled.

  He started laughing, but it turned into a yelp when I bit his nipple. “Emily, I thought maybe we’d make love and—”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought when I came for the weekend…and we will, sooner or later, after I’ve exacted my revenge and taught you a lesson or two.”

  “Mmmm… Ouch! Ahhh…” he said as I alternately lapped at his skin then bit into his torso. “Emily…”

  “Call me Mistress Emily,” I commanded. I sucked his tongue into my mouth as I mounted him. Then I took my pleasure from him and tortured him simultaneously, riding him until his muscles tightened and he nearly came, then disengaging and taunting him with my teeth on his upper thighs, licking my own juices off the tip of his cock.

  “Emily, please…” he begged.

  “What was that?” I bit into the flesh above his hipbone.

  “Mistress Emily! Please, Mistress Emily. I need to come.”

  Feeling very empowered, I straddled him again, allowing his organ to enter a centimeter at a time as he groaned and thrust his hips up for more. I slid down until I was completely full of him. With him inside me, I felt complete in a way I never had before.

  When I pulled the ties off his wrists, he fondled my breasts then moved his hands down to press his fingers into my ass cheeks. Raw sexual need fused together with a squeezing sensation in my chest at the idea that Mark Kendall was finally mine after all these years.

  When I couldn’t hold still another moment, I pressed my palms into his shoulders, looked deep into his dark eyes and rode him home.

  As I lay on top of him afterward, unsure which of us had generated the fabulous, slippery sweat pressed between my breasts and his chest, I was overwhelmed with emotion. For the first time in many years, I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.

  “I really think I love you, Emily,” Mark panted in my ear.

  “I really think I love you too,” I replied.

  - end -

  ~riz^011912

  About the Author

  Most days Lyla Sinclair can be found lying on a beach surrounded by nubile young bodies, all of whom are at her beck and call. Eyes closed, sun warming her scantily clad body, she dictates her most lurid fantasies to one of her young sex-slaves as she’s massaged, manicured and lulled to sleep by a nude Spanish guitarist. These catnaps are important, since her nights are spent gorging herself on young men and chocolate (though she never, ever gains weight).

  Lyla welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her

  author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Lyla Sinclair

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  Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy III anthology

  Hard On Miss Hardin

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