HisIndecentBoxSetpub (4 page)

“
Are
you hard for me, Mister Reed?” I asked, and then giggled, “Oh,
I'm sorry. I meant Damien.”

I imagined that the
cool air blowing over my cunt was his breath, which sent quivers of
sensation throughout my body. I wanted to grab my breasts and tweak
my nipples, but I had to be a good girl, or I wouldn't get the prize.

“
Can
you see how wet I'm getting for you?”

The memory of his
words echoed a response inside my head. “My cock is thick and
hard for you. Can you feel it slipping in, nudging at your hole? Open
your legs wide for me. I want to watch it going in.”

Obediently, I parted
my legs a bit wider. Then I felt his tip nudging at my hole. The
round end of the pen was nowhere near as bulbous as a cock head, but
my imagination filled in the gaps. I pictured Damien's gorgeous
mushroom tip, teasingly petting across my entrance, and I groaned
with want, silently begging for him to press it inside.

“
You're
such a lusty creature, Misses Grear,” he said to me, and I
nodded in response, pushing my hips back towards the pen, though it
moved with me, pulling away to deny me the pleasure I wanted.

“
Don't
tease me,” I begged.

“
If
this is what you really want.”

“
Oh,
it is.”

Centimeter by
centimeter, the pen slowly pushed into my pussy, rubbing against my
inner walls and causing my cunt to pulse with pleasure. It was almost
enough to set me off, but I wasn't ready for that to happen yet. Once
it was fully inside, the pen began to move, pumping softly, making
love to me. I moaned shamelessly into the pillow below, whispering
Damien's name into it, trying it on for size. It rolled off my tongue
almost naturally, like I was meant to say it.

Constant slow
love-making wasn't normal though. I had seen enough pornos to know
that, so I picked up the pace, allowing the delicious friction to
drive me to the brink of insanity. All the while, I imagined Damien
behind me, his hands curled around my hips, his fit body rocking
behind me, that gorgeous cock hammering in and out of my tight hole.
Within seconds, it was all more than I could bear, and I felt the
explosion of pleasure bloom between my legs, spreading out to infect
my stomach with the contractions of my orgasm.

“
Ohhh.
Oh, yes,” I cried out, though it sounded a bit dramatic
considering the small object that was actually inside of me. If it
had really been Damien, the words would have been sincerer, I was
sure. Still, the pen, coupled with my vivid imagination, did the
trick. It was the best orgasm I had in a long time, all thanks to
Mister Damien Reed and his magic pen.

CAUGHT ONE HANDED

Why I put the pen in
my backpack, I don't know. Perhaps it was a subconscious thing when I
was piling all of my crap in my backpack the next morning, but
somehow, it made it in there. Who could have known that one mistake
was about to change everything?

I seemed to be
running late all day long. A night of restless sleep was causing me
to drag ass. Not getting enough sleep always put me in a crabby mood,
so I spent a good majority of the day with a scowl on my face. Even
seeing Damien Reed's rocking body wasn't enough to turn my frown
upside down.

I slid into my seat,
annoyed at the way it scratched lightly across the floor in response
to my weight, annoyed with the way the guy sitting next to me was
staring at my boobs, annoyed with the fact that there was a quiz
today that I hadn't really studied for, annoyed with everything.
Damien had just had everyone turn in their art projects and was
making the rounds to pass out the quiz. It was a rarity he did that
himself. Usually, when he had anything to pass out, he handed it to
someone in the front row to do it for him. At least that would be one
ray of sunshine in my otherwise dismal day. I'd get to be physically
closer to the object of my recent obsession, if only for a half a
second.

The universe seemed
to want to deny me even that pleasure though. My phone rang inside
the front pocket of my backpack, and I screamed internally as I
picked it up, unzipped the pocket, and dumped the contents onto my
desk in an overly dramatic gesture, not feeling like having to dig
for the damn thing among all of my other crap.

Damien Reed was at
my desk by that point. He gave me a queer look that quickly sulked
into disappointment at the fact I hadn't turned my phone to vibrate.
Then his eyes landed on something on my desk, and I followed them to
the pen. Without even bothering to ask if it was his, he picked it up
and shoved it in his jean pocket. If I hadn't been scrambling to shut
my phone off, I would have died of embarrassment. Did he really know
the pen that well?

Part of my wanted to
die. Damien now knew I had stolen his pen. There was no other way it
would have randomly ended up in my backpack. Sure, I could probably
come up with some excuse, but would he really buy it. Probably not.
The pen never left his desk.

Once I had regained
my composure, I pulled out one of my own pens to begin working on the
quiz. My concentration was at an all-time low, worrying more about
what Damien would do about me stealing his pen than answering the
questions on the quiz. He didn't seem to hold a grudge about it
though, keeping his focus down on his own paperwork. I sighed in
relief. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal after all. If he asked, I
could tell him I found it on the floor and didn't know it was his.
Who really paid attention to a teacher's writing instrument anyway
besides pervy girls who turned them into fantasy sex toys?

Feeling like
everything would be okay, I mustered up all of my concentration and
blazed through the quiz. Despite the stress that I had been under all
week, I felt like I had done pretty well on it. With a satisfied
grin, I looked up, preparing to stand and turn my quiz in. That's
when our eyes locked, and I thought my cheeks might explode as all
the blood from my body rushed to my face.

Damien Reed had the
pen under his nose, inhaling my scent, and he was giving me a very
knowing gaze. My eyes shot back down to my paper, my body growing
heavy, as if my heart was hammering me right into the floor. There
was no way he couldn't smell me on the pen. I had been so exhausted
that I just wiped it off with a sock before I stuck it on my bedside
table and rolled over for sleep.

A few of my
classmates passed by my desk to turn their quiz in before I finally
mustered up the courage to stand and turn mine in. All the while, I
kept my eyes to the floor, refusing to meet Damien's gaze. Whether he
was still looking at me or not, I couldn't tell, but I didn't want to
know.

Thankfully, class
was almost over. Pretending I had to go to the restroom, I gathered
my things and headed for the door. Damien would be mad at me for
leaving early. He had mentioned on the first day of school that he
didn't want us to go to the bathroom right before class was over. I
could not have cared less at that moment though. All that mattered
was getting away from him—getting away from those eyes.

I spent the rest of
the day over-analyzing everything that had happened. With any luck,
he'd forget about the pen over the weekend, and things could return
to normal.

It turned out that
the phone call had been from my aunt letting me know that my mother
was being released from the hospital. That was a blessing, at least.
No more spending my afternoons at the hospital and then rushing home
to cram and do homework afterward.

I sighed in relief
as I drove back to my father's house, feeling the overzealous joy
that Fridays usually bring. It's funny how much I took them for
granted during my break between high school and college. Now, they
were all I felt like I had to look forward to.

After going home and
changing, I headed back out to meet up with Tanya at a local
restaurant. We spent the afternoon talking about how much more
intense college was than high school, what classes we were taking,
what professors we liked and didn't like, and about all the boys that
Tanya wanted to bone. Her list was a mile long. Mine only had one
person on it, and he was hardly a boy.

Just thinking of
Damien Reed made my cheeks grow warm, and the thought of his intense
gaze while he held that stupid pen under his nose made me absolutely
hate myself. Why did I have to steal it in the first place? And how
could he possibly have known it was his just by looking at it?

“
You
okay, Chey?” Tanya asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

“
Oh.
Um, yeah, I'm fine.” I must have been dipping a fry in my
ketchup for waaay too long.

“
You
look out of it.”

“
I
was just thinking of something that happened today.”

“
Ohhh,
something juicy? What was it?”

“
Not
juicy. Embarrassing.” I avoided her gaze, not really wanting to
talk about it. We shared everything, but this was a bit too personal.

“
Well,
now you have to tell me,” Tanya insisted, her almond eyes
growing wide with excitement.

“
Maybe
some other time. I'm not feeling too good,” I lied. “I
think I'm going to have this boxed up and head home.”

Her expression
quickly changed from curious to concerned. “Alright. Do you
need me to get you a barf bag or something?”

“
No.
I'll be fine. I just . . . need to lie down.”
And
think of Damien Reed's pen some more. Of how I violated myself with
it and he smelled me on it afterward.

Thankfully, Tanya
didn't ask anymore questions. Her maternal instincts kicked in and
she babied me all the way to my car, insisting that she carry my
purse and even asking if I wanted her to drive me home. I wasn't that
sick—didn't look that sick. Hell, I wasn't even acting that
sick, but I was grateful for her caring nature, none the less.

Once I got home, I
buckled down on my studies. It was strange having a house all to
myself. I was so used to my mother being around when I got off
school. Her job let out at four o'clock, so oftentimes, I only had
about thirty minutes to myself every day before she got home. With my
father gone on the road, the big house seemed almost too empty.

A good portion of my
weekend was spent working on my make-up art project. Since I had more
time to finish it than the other students, I decided to go ahead and
give it a background. I even created an additional character who was
supposed to represent Tanya. The finished product was a manga version
of the two of us standing together, winking and throwing the peace
sign in the college cafeteria, best friends forever. Hopefully,
Damien would like it, though I couldn't blame him for failing me
after I had stolen his pen. I still wasn't sure how I was going to
face him, but it was unavoidable.

On Monday, I waited
until the last possible second to show up to Art Appreciation class.
Some bitch had been bold enough to steal my seat, but I knew I should
count it as a blessing. The further away I sat from Damien Reed, the
better. Maybe if he couldn't see me as well, he wouldn't remember the
pen incident. It was a stupid thing to hope for, but sometimes I
could be a stupidly hopeful girl.

Class started as
usual, with Damien sitting in his chair doing a silent roll call. I
kept my eyes on my desk, determined to avoid his gaze, though I could
swear that I felt him looking at me, if that was even possible. His
lecture began, and I signed in relief. Somehow, I had gotten off
scot-free. At least, I thought I had until the end of class when he
came up to me and told me he wanted to see me after school. That left
a bitter taste in my mouth and a sick churning in my stomach for the
rest of the day. Hopefully, he just wanted to talk to me about my
grades, though I wasn't naïve enough to believe that. This had
to be about that stupid pen. I cursed myself for stealing it, but I
couldn't change what I had done. I would have to face the
consequences head on, whatever they may be.

The rest of my day
was pretty much miserable, thanks to thoughts of impending doom. What
was the punishment for stealing a college professor's pen anyway?
Maybe he'd kick me out of his class, or worse, try to have me
expelled. I went over my apologetic groveling speech in my head until
it was committed to memory. I would do whatever it took to get back
on his good graces—anything it took.