HisIndecentBoxSetpub (9 page)

In a matter of
seconds, the tables were turned. I was watching him, my eyes hooded
and wanton with desire. His breath steamed on the red candy coating
of the lollipop, and then it disappeared into his mouth. He sucked on
it for a moment, then pulled it back out, his tongue making a soft
swirling motion over the back of it. The peaks of my nipples grew
harder, imagining that warm wet mouth ravaging them. He was an
insatiable tease, and it was about to drive me absolutely insane.

“
Are
you ready for part two?” he asked.

My eyes were hooded,
captivated by his seductive spell. It blew my mind and pissed me off
that I had been working for close to fifteen minutes to give him an
erection, and in the span of only two seconds, he already had me
silently begging for him to take me. All he had to do was ask, and
I'd be spreading my legs for him shamelessly, ready to take his thick
cock into my wet folds.

“
Part
two,” I murmured, still staring at the lollipop as it rolled
around inside his mouth.

“
You
look very ready for part two.”

“
What's
part two?”

“
I
want you to masturbate for me.”

My breath hitched in
shock, my mind suddenly drawn back to reality. Masturbate for him? I
had just gotten done being proud of myself for getting naked, and now
he wanted to push the envelope even further.

“
I'm
shy,” I muttered.

“
You
don't seem very shy to me.” He leaned back, killing the sensual
moment by cracking the lollipop with his teeth.

“
It
took a lot of courage for me to even do this much,” I
confessed.

“
And
I commend you for it. You did a good job.”

“
But
you didn't. . . I mean. . .” My cheeks burned. Why was it so
hard for me to say erection? He hadn't gotten an erection. It wasn't
particularly difficult to say, and yet my words got all jumbled up in
immature embarrassment.

“
I
didn't what?” he smirked, and I hated him for it. He was going
to force me to say it.

“
You're
not hard.”

“
So
you've been looking,” he teased.

“
Well,
yeah. I figured that would be a sign that I had done a good job.”

“
You
did a great job. I just have a lot of self-control. It's not often my
body does things I don't want it to, excluding when I'm sick.”

Is that even
possible,
I thought,
or was he just saying that to be nice.
Sure, he wasn't some teenage boy who was going to pop a boner at
every boob he saw, but still. I had given him a very intimate
one-on-one strip show. Few guys could see something like that without
getting hard.

“
Masturbate
for me. You're warmed up as it is. It's important for me to see you
pleasure yourself, for future lessons. Now, I know it might be a bit
awkward, since you've never done it in front of anyone before. Just
try to pretend I'm not here. You don't need to do any fake moaning or
try to impress me, or drag it out longer than necessary. Do what you
normally do.”

I thought about
opening my mouth to argue, but instead, I found myself crawling onto
the bed and rolling onto my back. Damien had one thing right; I was
definitely warmed up and ready to go. My mind was still stuck on the
image of him sucking on the lollipop, teasing it with his tongue.

The sensitive nerves
in my clit tingled as my fingers found their way between my legs.
Normally, it only took me about five minutes to rub one out. That
wouldn't be the case this time though. Despite the fire burning
between my legs, my mind kept getting distracted. No matter how much
I tried to pretend I was alone, I knew that Damien Reed was sitting a
few feet away watching me without a tent in his pants. It was a
discouraging thought.

This is for you,
not for him,
I had to remind myself.
You're doing this so that
you can be more sexually secure.

One hand worked back
and forth in heated circles over my clit while the other teased one
of my erect nipples. I tried to keep the picture of Damien sucking
the lollipop in my head. My thoughts kept drifting deeper though,
moving further back to when we were in his office. The head of his
cock had pressed against my passageway, nudging to the point of pain.
It hadn't bucked all the way inside, but that feeling when he was
there, when we were so close to coupling. At the time, I was a bit
afraid. Now, the memory brought back nothing but excitement.

My finger worked
with energized fervor, massaging while my toes curled, and I pressed
my hips forward, practically writhing on the bed as I rubbed out my
pleasure. All the while, I imagined Damien's glorious tip at my
entrance, threatening to break through and invade my virgin tunnel.
It would have felt exquisite, I was sure. Maybe a bit painful, but
that would have gone away once I got used to his girth. The thought
of Damien Reed between my legs was enough to send me over the edge,
drowning me in a fit of blissful contractions. My lips parted to
moan, but I swallowed the sound, not wanting to seem fake or flaky.
The contractions rolled through me in rapid succession, firing off my
sensitive nerve endings, and soon I found myself spent and breathing
ragged on the bed.

When I finally
turned to look at Damien Reed, there was a tent in his pants.

NO TOUCHING

I got dressed while
Damien jotted notes down on the clipboard. Hearing the pen scratch
against paper was a bit unnerving, as if I was being graded on my
performance. Curiosity made me want to ask what he was writing, but I
was too shy and embarrassed, and part of me feared it wasn't
something I wanted to know anyway.

With me dressed and
his notes taken, the session was over. Like the professional that he
was, Damien walked me to the door, going over what time he'd like me
to come over the following day. My brain went wild, trying to imagine
my next lesson. Apparently, I had used up all of my boldness during
the striptease and self-pleasure session, because I could barely
utter out more than a few words before I found myself standing
outside of his house, staring at my Miata, my mind replaying the
afternoon's events while my body automatically walked to my car and
got inside.

I picked up my cell
phone and realized I was shaking. Adrenaline was still pumping
through me, and I wondered how long it would be before I calmed down.
The session had been so intense; the memory of it would stick with me
for a while.

With unsteady
fingers, I dialed Tanya's number. Everything in me wanted to blab
about what had happened. She was my best friend, and I told her
everything. Yet this felt somehow forbidden. I had to keep it to
myself. Or maybe I could lie and tell her I had met some wonderful
boy, just so I could get this off my chest.

We met up at a local
restaurant, and she seemed to be beaming with excitement as much as I
was. She wiggled as we waited for the host to show us to our seats,
going on about having big news, though she refused to tell me what it
was until we were seated.

I slid into the
booth opposite her. Before we even had a chance to say a word to each
other, our waiter was at the table, taking our drink order. The ear
to ear grin on Tanya's face told me that she had probably just gotten
laid. She always smiled like that after sex. Sometimes, she reminded
me more of a guy than a girl. She was so promiscuous, practically a
nymphet. If she could have a different boy every night of the week,
she would.

“
Oh. Oh. Oh.”
She patted the top of the table in excitement as soon as the waiter
walked away.

“
You go
first,” I told her, as if I had a choice.

“
I met a boy,”
she said and then squealed afterward.

“
I kind of
figured.” I tried not to sound too unsurprised.

“
No. No. Not
just any boy. This boy is dreamy and smart and rich. Did I mention
that he's hot? Because he's really really hot.”

“
Dreamy
usually implies hot.” I grinned at her.

“
And his
dick.” She held her hands almost a foot apart and then mouthed
the words, “this big.”

I couldn't help but
laugh. “Sounds like the total package. I'm guessing that you
two—”

“
Of course we
did,” she giggled like a school girl. “You know me better
than that, Chey. Why'd you even ask?”

I wanted to roll my
eyes, imagining a bedpost full of notches that went all the way down
to the floor. “Why'd I even ask? Oh, by the way, how's the
sugar daddy going?”

“
I don't want
to talk about him. He's old news. I'm going to cut ties. I just don't
have time for him anymore with college and all of these new boys.”

“
I'm sure
he'll be disappointed.”

“
Wouldn't be
the first time I left a guy heartbroken.”

Tanya was the
quintessential Asian dream. She was petite, with long silky dark hair
that hung down to her lower back, a round tan face, and almond eyes.
There weren't many guys who didn't lust over her small frame and
perky tits. She knew how to work them too, always wearing something
to accentuate her body. Today it was a skintight mini dress, black
with soft white flowers crawling up the side.

“
So what about
your news?” she asked.

“
I met a boy
too.”

“
Oh really
now?” She arched an eyebrow, giving me a strangely sleazy
looking expression that made me giggle.

“
Yes.”

“
What's his
name?”

It was a question I
hadn't expected her to ask. Usually, her mind was completely sex
focused. Why'd she have to ask a question that made me think . . .
and hesitate.

“
James,”
I fumbled, cringing after I said it. Damien Reed looked nothing like
a James. I didn't even like the name James. Why had I said it?

She wrinkled her
nose, mirroring my thought. “I don't like that name.”

“
Me neither,
but he's pretty dreamy too.”

“
So, what does
he look like?”

“
He's tall,
with dark hair and dark eyes.”

“
Sounds yummy.
Is he chubby?”

“
No. He's very
fit. He wears . . . really tight clothes.” I wanted to drool,
thinking about the tent in Damien Reed's jeans. It reminded me of the
saying about love. Stop looking and you'll find it. I had been
working on giving him an erection for what felt like forever, and
when I finally stopped concentrating on him and started thinking
about myself, that was when it happened.

“
He's
not one of those emo kids, is he? Cause I don't like them.” She
shook her head in distaste.

“
Does
it matter? It's not about whether you like him or not. All that
matters is that I like him.”

“
Ew.
He is an emo kid. Chey, they're so immature. You can do better than
that.”

“
No.
He's not emo,” I laughed. “He's very . . . serious, and
smart, and . . .” Distant. And not really yours.

“
Does
he have a big dick?”

“
Tanya!”
I wanted to reach across the table and slap at her. Then I grinned,
realizing for the first time ever that I could actually answer that
question with honesty. “Yes, he does,” I said.

Tanya gasped,
putting her hands over her mouth. “Chey! You've actually seen
it? Did you? Did you?!” She bounced in her chair, her tits
staying oddly in place. If I had done that, my back would have ached.

“
No,
we didn't. But, I got undressed for him, and masturbated.”

Her expression
sulked. “You masturbated for him but you didn't make him give
me the D.”

“
We're
waiting, since I'm a virgin. You know, until the right moment.”

“
Ohhh,
so this guy is your boyfriend now? Damn, girl. You move fast. We've
only been back in school for two weeks, and you've already landed a
hot boyfriend.”