And yet he had promised to become her disciplinarian. To spank her weekly. And he had wanted sex. So maybe her interest was requited?
She pulled on his t-shirt and padded out to the living room in nothing more.
He took in her appearance with glittering eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, fingering his blue jersey knit nervously.
His eyes traveled down to the hem, which fell just below her hoo-ha. “Pick it up,” he ordered, his voice rough.
She picked up the edges of the shirt and slid it up to her navel, giving him a clear view of her groomed thatch.
He pursed his lips and drew out a chair from the dining room table, sinking into it. “Come here.”
She hoped he realized she could not take any more spanking. Her bottom still felt raw, which was part of the reason she hadn’t put on her panties. The other part being she felt naughty. She walked toward him and he opened his knees and pulled her to stand between them, holding her hips with the shirt pushed up.
“How are you feeling after your punishment, Lucy?”
She loved the way he said her name when he lectured, somehow speaking directly into her soul.
“Sore,” she admitted. Both her pussy and her bottom were actively talking to her, reminding her of what they had taken that day.
“Good,” he said with a smirk. He turned her sideways. “I’m going to inspect. Put both your hands on my thigh,” he said, patting the leg she faced.
She obeyed, bending over to present her ass to him once more. He ran his hand over her skin with a light touch, making her shiver.
“I think the arnica worked,” he said. “You shouldn’t bruise.” He raised his palm and gave her a sharp slap.
“Ah!”
“Still tender?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice sounding shaky.
“Good.” He pulled her waist so she sat back on his other knee with a plunk. She winced, but his hand had already snaked inside the loose t-shirt to cup her breast, and she immediately lost track of the discomfort in favor of the pleasure he imparted with his skilled touch.
“I have spanked a lot of women, Lucy,” he said, his voice a rich rumble, “but I have never had post-spanking sex like we had today.”
Her face grew warm with pleasure and she tried not to smile. “Me neither,” she said. “I mean, of course me neither, because I’ve never been spanked before, but…”
He smiled at her fluster and she hid her face in her hands in embarrassment.
He pulled her wrists away. “Look at me,” he coaxed. “You don’t get to hide from me. Not ever.”
His words sent a flush of warmth through her entire body. She lowered her hands and blinked at him.
“We’re in an odd situation here, aren’t we, Luce? It’s hard to take things slow when we already went from zero to 300 in a day.”
She nodded, drawing in a breath. Where was this headed? The conversation seemed both important and scary at the same time.
“You’re still willing to be my little sub?”
She nodded quickly.
“And to pursue a...sexual relationship with me?”
“Yes, sir,” she affirmed.
“We’ll have to be very careful in the department.”
“I understand. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
He nodded. “I’m sure I could lose my job over the spanking part. The relationship would probably just get me censured.”
“I would never jeopardize your career,” she promised, but then cringed, remembering how her mistake had just cost him weeks of research time.
As if he guessed at her thoughts, he traced her cheek. “I’m not sorry.”
Her eyes widened at the implication. She swallowed. “You forgive me?” she prompted.
He shook his head. “I mean I’m not sorry. At all.” He held her eyes, until she had no doubt of his meaning. Pulling her head down to his, he brought his lips over her mouth. It was their first kiss, oddly, in a reverse sequence that follows a bare-bottomed spanking and rough sex. And yet it seemed more important to their relationship than the first two events. As if, with their soft exploration of lips, they sealed a deal.
His tongue slipped between her lips with just a hint of aggression and she twined her arms around his neck to hold on. As with everything else, he seemed far more experienced than her, surprising her with nips, then returning to a deeper kiss, his tongue plundering her mouth. By the time he pulled away, she was breathless, clinging to him.
“You must be hungry, sweetheart,” he said gently, lifting her to her feet.
She wanted to protest, but her stomach rumbled as if on cue.
“Do you like stir fry?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said, trailing after him to the kitchen. He lifted the cover from a frying pan and scooped the savory food onto a plate for her.
“Forks are right behind you in that drawer,” he directed.
She turned and took out a fork for each of them, handing him one as she took her plate. “Thank you, this looks delicious.”
“You’re welcome.” He spoke with a relaxed warmth, the same he’d projected ever since he’d spanked her, except for when he was acting dominant. She loved it—it made her feel safe and well-regarded, a great improvement from the cool professionalism with which he treated her at the lab. “Would you like a beer? I don’t have much else to offer. Beer or water are your only choices right now, I’m afraid.”
“I’d love a beer, thanks.”
She set her plate on the table and returned to get the beer. He popped the cap off two Dos Equis bottles and cut a slice of lime for each, squeezing it and rubbing it over the mouth of the beer before dropping it in. She licked her lips and he caught the gesture and winked. Returning to the dining table, she eased herself down onto the hard wooden chair, not minding when Todd smirked. They ate together in companionable silence.
After dinner she helped him clean up, then stopped by the table, looking at the stacks of graded papers. He came up behind her and lifted the hem of her shirt—well, his shirt, actually, above her butt.
She giggled and twisted away, covering her bottom with her hands.
“You’re a tough grader,” she commented.
“You managed to get an A in my class.”
“A minus,” she corrected. “And I had to work my ass off for it.”
He smiled indulgently. “Did you learn anything?”
“Yeah, I learned you’re a tough grader.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, yes. You did teach me how to write a better paper. Your advice about opening all the doors even if you’re not going to enter them helped a lot.”
“Right. You have to show off your knowledge when you write an academic paper. It’s the same thing with your thesis proposal—you had the information in your head, but you didn’t convey it on paper.”
She flushed at the criticism, even though she knew he was right.
He grabbed her waist and pulled her against his body. “Speaking of which, am I going to hear a plea for an extension or will I have that proposal in my inbox by Monday?”
Her perfectionism kicked in. She didn’t want to have to ask for an extension, regardless of how derailed the day’s plans had gone. She started thinking hard about how much she could get done if she went straight home and worked all night.
He touched her nose. “Calm down. Tuesday is fine. I happen to know you’ve had a very stressful day.”
His sympathy caused tears to pop in her eyes and she blinked them away.
“You know why I push you so hard, don’t you?”
She continued blinking and shook her head.
He touched her temple. “Because I know how smart you are. I know you have everything it takes to be a serious scientist. You’re dedicated, you love the work, and you enjoy pushing ideas around. That’s the way science grows.”
A tear escaped her eye.
“I’m going to make sure you succeed here, Lucy. Even
if it means I have to punish your mistakes.” He lifted an eyebrow, his mouth curving into a suggestive smile.
She leaned her weight against him as a shiver of excitement ran up her spine.
He wanted to do dirty things to Lucy. She looked good enough to eat in his thin t-shirt, her small breasts tenting the front, her shapely legs on full display.
He let his hands wander lightly over the sweet curve of her ass. “I hope you know you relinquished all rights to this body when you agreed to be my sexual slave.”
She gave him an exaggerated jaw drop, her pretty smile stretching the corners of her mouth wide. “I don’t recall agreeing to be anyone’s sexual slave.”
“Well, add it to your email of understanding between us. If I am your disciplinarian and this relationship is sexual, then your body belongs to me,” he said, running his hands up inside the shirt to stroke her soft skin. “And especially if you come wandering into my living room wearing nothing but a t-shirt, do not imagine I will grant you amnesty just because you are sore.”
She made a small mewling sound and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
“How old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty-six. How about you?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Have you ever been married?”
He shook his head.
“Why not?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Since when do you ask the questions?”
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m just teasing.” He led her to the couch and pulled her down beside him. “I guess between my kink and being rather intensely focused on my research, I haven’t found the right person. The play parties in Phoenix usually satisfy my sexual itch, and the research fills my time.” He shrugged.
She had stiffened. “So...do you have sex with people at the parties?”
He ran his hand up and down her thigh. “No, baby. I have on occasion, but it’s rare.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Like, when? With whom?”
He picked up her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Why are you upset? It was nothing like what happened between you and me. I told you that already.”
She softened. “Are you still going to go to the play parties?”
“Now that I have you, you mean?”
She smiled at his phrasing. “Yeah.”
“Only if we go together.”
He saw curiosity take hold. “Would you spank other women?”
“Would you want me to?”
She rubbed her lips together. “I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t do anything we hadn’t agreed on in advance. And it would be okay for you to change your mind on the fly.”
“Would you want me to get spanked by other men?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I forbid it.”
Angry color came into her cheeks. “Well, that’s not really fair is it?”
He laughed. “I told you that your body belongs to me. That means I make the decisions about who spanks you. I may at some point choose a woman to turn you over her knee so I can watch.”
Lucy’s eyes dilated, color spreading across her chest. She rubbed her nose. “Would I have a choice?”
He smirked. “Maybe. I’m pretty good at reading limits, little girl, and I can tell you’re excited by the idea.”
She swallowed. “How can you tell?”
He let his eyes rove down her neck and land on her peaked nipples pointing through the soft cotton.
She glanced down and blushed a deeper red. She shook her head rather frantically. “Look, I, uh...I don’t think I could do that.”
“Shh,” he said, placing a finger on her lips. “I’ll know when and if you’re ready.”
She stared up at him, appearing shocked at his claim of omniscience. “Promise?” she asked in a small voice.
He smiled, a surge of protectiveness jolting through him. “I promise.”
After a moment of silence, she returned to the previous subject. “Well, haven’t you ever wanted to have kids?”
He tensed, the old pain in him still tender after so many years. “Yeah,” he said, without elaborating.
She waited, blinking up at him as if somehow knowing there was something else to be said. He hadn’t told anyone, not since high school and yet he found himself opening his mouth. “I have a kid out there somewhere, actually.”
Still, she said nothing, the silence an invitation to elaborate.
“I got my girlfriend pregnant when we were sixteen. She was my first love—I thought for sure I would marry her and we would travel the world together. But the condom broke. And she didn’t believe in abortion. Her parents arranged an adoption, but they were completely scandalized. They never let me see her again. Even after high school, when I tried to get in touch with her through friends, she wouldn’t see me. And I have no idea what happened to our baby.”
It had always disturbed him, knowing he had a child out there somewhere who he couldn’t claim. It weighed on him like a guilt he couldn’t atone for.
Lucy’s brow wrinkled in sympathetic concern. “Aren’t there ways to find out now? Like states that opened records, or something?”
A fresh wall of guilt nearly knocked him back. “I don’t know,” he said weakly. The truth was, he had never tried. Maybe he’d been too afraid to stir up the feelings he had buried as a teenager, especially because he had little faith in the success of such an endeavor. He doubted his name had gone on the birth certificate. His girlfriend’s parents wouldn’t have wanted any connection there at all.
“Where did you live?
“Ohio. Columbus, Ohio.”
“And what was your girlfriend’s name?”
“Jenny Reed.”
“Do you want me to look?”
Emotion plowed through him again. “Yeah. Maybe.” The thought of finding his child terrified him almost as much as the thought of never finding him or her. “Just...don’t get my hopes up, okay? Don’t tell me unless you really find something.”
She nodded, her expression caring.
He reached for her, cupping her face in both hands and drawing her in for a kiss.
He hadn’t expected to open up to her. It seemed significant, a signal that this relationship might be the first in which he could be himself. But he didn’t know how far a relationship like theirs might go. He feared it was the type of fire that burned hot but extinguished quickly. After all, the professor/student thing could only last so long. Eventually she would be a professor in her own right, and his appeal as an authority figure would diminish.
Too bad. He never dreamed he’d find anything this good.
She pulled away and slid off the couch and onto her knees. Partly because the idea of being of “service” to her new master excited her, and partly because she truly was still sore from their earlier lovemaking, she reached for his belt-buckle.
“Mmm,” he said, helping her to open his pants in record time. His cock bulged against the fabric, springing free when he lowered his briefs enough.
She took his length and began to lick around the head. The professor guided her hand to the base of his cock, gripping his own fingers firmly around hers.
Performance anxiety suddenly entered as she realized how little experience she had giving head. She’d had one serious boyfriend for all of undergrad, and while she’d tried a few times when he begged, she had never developed a taste for it. Literally. And it made her jaw ache. And it seemed like it always took him too long to get off. Eventually they just used it as foreplay—she would tease his cock a little bit and then they’d move onto intercourse. She had only dated sporadically since, and had not deemed anyone “blowjob worthy”.
Now, in a situation where she wanted to impress, wanted to please, she feared she lacked the skill. And he had so much experience with which to compare her.
“Hey,” he said, stroking her cheek. “Don’t get nervous. You can’t give a bad blow job, haven’t you been told that before?”
S
he almost giggled at his ability to read her so well. Maybe he’d been right when he promised he would know her limits when the time came. She pulled her mouth off his manhood. “Teach me?” she asked shyly. With her last boyfriend, she had hated when he offered feedback, feeling defensive about her lack of ability, especially considering it wasn’t an act she enjoyed anyway.
Todd stared at her, his eyes dark. One eyebrow lifted a miniscule amount. He reached down and slowly pulled his belt from the loops, causing her to catch her breath. “It’s not really about technique,” he said, “it’s about a desire to please.”
She shivered.
“Do you want to please me, Lucy?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, a pulse beginning in her center core.
He folded the belt in half. “Take off the shirt.” His heavy-lidded eyes seemed to burn through her.
She drew in a breath and pulled off the shirt, her nipples tightening at the vulnerability of kneeling at his feet, completely nude.
“Come and put your mouth on my cock again,” he said, his voice low and sultry, his glittering gaze dangerous.
She stood on her knees and put her lips over the head of his shaft, her heartbeat steady and fast.
He swung the belt and it landed lightly, but still stung her tender buttocks.
“Mmph.”
“Up and down over the head,” he instructed.
Her pussy contracted. She applied her mouth with great enthusiasm, anxious to not receive another lash from the belt, and truly, because she did want to please.
“Now take it all the way in.”
She took it all the way in until it bumped the back of her throat and she gagged. She pulled off, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He grabbed her nipple and used it to pull her forward. His touch was painful, but his words were kind. “It’s all right,” he coaxed. “You’re doing fine. Start over.”
She began again, stretching her mouth over the head of his manhood, moving up and down, her lips catching the edge with each motion.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Very nice. Now one long swoop down—into the pocket of your cheek, if you’re having trouble gagging.”
She took his advice and sent the head along her cheek.
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