HisIndecentBoxSetpub (6 page)

Although all I
wanted to do was lay in bed and throw a pity party, I still had a lot
of homework to get done, so I tried to push the events of the evening
to the back of my mind while I got to work. Whenever a painful memory
would slip through, I would feel my eyes begin to water. It was
absolutely miserable, but there was nothing to be done about it but
wait until the memories faded. They would, over time, I knew, but it
was going to take a while, and seeing Damien Reed's face almost every
day wasn't going to help.

I had half a mind
not to go to Art Appreciation the next day, but my attendance was
already off to a bad start, and I didn't want to get any further
behind. With a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, I stepped
into class, same as always, and found my way to the back of the room,
prepared for an hour of complete and total discontent. Every time
Damien Reed would look at me, I would avoid his gaze. Of course, he
played like nothing had happened, conducting class with the same
confidence as always. I, on the other hand, could think of nothing
other than our steamy encounter in his office. The memory sent warm
yearnings to my pussy, but cold stabbings to my heart.

The minutes ticked
by painfully slow, as if even the clock thought it was fun to torture
me. Lecture was long and boring, and I couldn't be bothered to
concentrate, so I doodled on a piece of paper for most of the class.
Thankfully, Damien didn't call on m. I was already pissed enough at
him as it was, though I still wasn't sure why. It was easier to blame
everything on him, even though none of this would have happened if I
hadn't of stolen his pen.

Finally, class was
over. I dragged myself out of my desk and headed toward the door.
Damien intercepted my leaving though, gently grabbing me by the
shoulder and pulling me off to the side of the room.

“
I
want to see you after class again,” he told me, his eyes
betraying no emotion.

“
What
did I do this time?” I asked.

“
I
want to talk to you about your grades.”

You've got to be
kidding me. He rejects me, and now he's going to badger me about my
grades.
Perhaps a small part of me had hoped that he would want
to discuss the previous day. That was wishful thinking. His only
motive was to rub salt in my wounds—to make me feel worse than
I already did.

“
Fine,”
I said, hoping it didn't sound bitchy as I turned from him to head
out the door. I would definitely need to drop Art Appreciation. There
was no point in taking the class if things were going to continue to
spiral downward.

Surprisingly, I was
able to put Damien Reed out of my mind for the rest of the day. My
emotions were completely numb towards the situation, my brain going
into repair mode. Whatever happened next, it didn't matter. I
couldn't emotionally handle being around him every day. I knew that
now. No matter which direction this discussion went in, I would
likely be dropping the class by the end of the week.

When my last class
was over, I headed back to Art Appreciation with purposeful steps.
He
can't hurt you again
, was the mantra I repeated inside my head.
While I wasn't sure if it was true, I forced myself to believe it,
putting up my emotional defenses so that I didn't randomly start
crying in the middle of our discussion.

When I stepped into
Damien Reed's office, I held my head high, displaying as much fake
confidence as I could muster. I closed the door and took a seat
before he even had a chance to tell me to, which I'm certain he would
have.

“
You
wanted to speak to me about my grades?” I said, preparing
myself for the worst.

“
No.”
He shook his head. “That was just a front to get you here so we
could talk.”

“
Talk
about what?” I crossed one leg over the other, smoothing down
the front of my skirt.

He hesitated, as if
he wasn't sure how to begin. “I offer a special after school
class on sex education.”

“
Mister
Reed,” I said, purposely trying to get under his skin. “I
have a full load of coursework as it is. I don't have time to take on
another class, especially one as unnecessary as sex ed.”

“
It's
. . . not that kind of class.” His brown eyes darkened, and
there was a flash of uncertainty behind them.

Now my interest was
piqued. Was this redemption? Was he actually offering me more than
meets the eye? Despite how angry I was with him, there was an
unmistakable stirring in my loins at the thought. I squeezed my
thighs together, trying to suppress it. My professional mannerisms
were fading, and I had to fight to keep the act up and seem
disinterested.

“
Well,
what kind of class is it then?”

“
It's
not the type of class I typically offer to my college students. It's
a very intimate class, delving into sexual nature and fantasy.”

The way he said it
made all the sensitive areas in my body light up like Christmas
lights. Just the mention of the word 'fantasy' caused my nipples to
begin to perk. I sure had plenty of fantasies about Damien Reed, and
this sounded like a good way to explore them further.

“
If
you don't offer it to your college students, then why are you
offering it to me?”

“
You
seem like a very sensual woman. I thought you might be able to
benefit from it.”

My heart fluttered
in my chest.
He sees me as a . . . sensual woman.
It took
everything in me to suppress a lecherous grin.

Damien pulled a
folded up piece of paper from his desk drawer and handed it to me.
“We would meet in the afternoons on Saturday and Sunday for
about an hour. All the sessions are one-on-one, so you don't have to
worry about feeling uncomfortable. You don't need to give me your
decision now. If you're interested, turn that paper into me before
the end of the week, and I'll call you to give you my address, so we
can start your lessons this upcoming weekend. If you're not
interested, you can simply throw that questionnaire away and pretend
I never said anything.

“
Please
don't open that paper until you get home. There's nothing
incriminating on it, but I would prefer you handle it with
discretion.”

“
How
much would the class cost?” I asked.

“
I'll
take you on pro bono.” He smiled.

The paper burned a
hole in my backpack all the way home. I desperately wanted to open it
as soon as I got in my car, but decided to respect Damien's wishes.
By the time I pulled into my father's driveway, I couldn't wait any
longer. I dug the piece of paper out and flipped it open to look at
the contents. Down the front was a list of questions, all sexual in
nature.

Ignoring all other
homework, I went to work answering the questionnaire as soon as I got
inside. My responses to the questions were as follows:

1. How many men have
   you had sex with?
   

None.

1. Place a check mark
   next to the things you have experience with:
   

• Vaginal intercourse
  __
  

• Anal intercourse __
  

• Intercourse with a
  same sex partner __
  

• Giving oral sex __
  

• Receiving oral sex
  __
  

1. What do you have
   experience with not listed above?
   

Dry humping.

1. Do you enjoy
   watching other people have sex or enjoy being watched while you're
   having sex?
   

• I enjoy watching __
  

• I enjoy being
  watched __
  

• I don't like
  watching but enjoy being watched __
  

• I don't like being
  watched but enjoy watching others __
  

• I don't enjoy
  watching or being watched __
  

• I have no
  preference _X_
  

1. What is your
   ultimate sexual fantasy?
   

1. What are you
   interested in learning about?
   

Anything you're
willing to teach me.

1. What will you
   absolutely not do?
   

No bodily waste. No
animals. No children. No anal sex.

1. Are
   you interested in learning about BDSM (
   Bondage &
   Discipline / Domination & Submission / Sadism & Masochism)?
   

Sure. Why not.

All the questions
seemed easy enough to answer except for the ultimate sexual fantasy
one. I wasn't quite sure what it meant, realistic fantasies or
make-believe ones. Everyone has fantasies they'd never live
out—fantasies they like to pleasure themselves to, like play
rape and impossibly giant cocks stuffing them from both ends, or
maybe even monster sex.

When I thought about
it though, it didn't really make sense to jot down something that
wasn't even possible. Still, the context depended on what he'd gather
from the information, and I had no idea what that was.

Part of me wanted to
write that I'd like to be taken by two men at once, but I was too
embarrassed, and I didn't want to seem greedy. Besides,
realistically, I wasn't sure if I would do it. I was a one-man woman.
I didn't enjoy sharing, so I couldn't imagine my significant other
wanting to share me. Anything else I could come up with was tame in
comparison. In the end, I decided to leave the question blank.

Nervousness welled
in my stomach as I turned the paper in to Damien the next day. For a
little while, I had thought about waiting until the end of the week,
to take some time to decide if this was what I really wanted. More
than likely, these after school classes were a gateway to having sex
with him.

If I didn't turn the
paper in, I felt like I could wipe my slate clean, and things could
continue as if nothing had happened between us. My carnal instincts
wouldn't allow that though. I wanted Damien Reed. Maybe I hadn't been
ready for him the first time he advanced on me, but now I was
prepared. This wasn't a fantasy anymore.

SELF EXPLORATION

I battled the
butterflies in my stomach as I followed my GPS toward Damien Reed's
house. Turn right here, then left there, it said, being annoying as
usual. The neighborhood was unfamiliar to me, somewhere out where the
country boarders the city. It was a hodgepodge of mixed housing, from
rundown trailer homes to quaint little site-built homes. I wasn't
sure what I should expect when I got to my destination.

The road went on,
and the mobile homes got sparser. Then the site-built homes got
sparse as well, and I was beginning to think I had gotten lost. My
stupid GPS wasn't always right, but it hadn't announced that it was
recalculating, so all I could do was follow it with blind faith.

I drove like a
grandmother, taking in the scenery, and moving over onto the side of
the road whenever a car was behind me. There was a massive white
stone fence to my right and what appeared to be a game preserve to my
left. A doe and her two fawns frolicked along the fence-line, looking
especially adorable, though I couldn't pay much attention to them.
Damien's house should be coming up anytime now.

I checked the
address one last time and then scouted ahead. All I could see in the
immediate area was the game preserve and the place where the fence
opened up into a driveway. This definitely couldn't be right. My GPS
led me astray again.

I cursed it as I
pulled into the driveway, preparing to back up and turn around. Then
I noticed the numbers on the gate and realized I was at the right
spot.

“
No way,”
I mouthed as I looked down the driveway toward the expansive house
that sat on top of a small hill. I had seen it from a distance and
instantly assumed it belonged to some rich ranch owner in the area.
Never had I imagined it could belong to Damien Reed.

Taking a deep
breath, I pressed my foot to the gas peddle and forced my Miata to
climb the hill, which led up to a circular driveway that surrounded a
fountain, of all things. It was fairly simple, with three stone tiers
that spilled water down on each other. Surrounding the fountain was a
ring of red flowers, followed by another ring of blue flowers.
Horticulture had never been my strong suit, so I had no idea what
kind of flowers they were, but it was pretty.