More Lessons for Laura (2 page)

“After you please me, I will take you over my knee for a
well-deserved spanking.”

She released my head and sat back in the chair, sliding her
hips to me. I knew exactly what to do to redeem myself and I was happy to have
the opportunity. I pulled her jeans down and took the exquisitely replicated
cock from its neatly tucked position and placed my mouth around the tip. I knew
this pleased her by the soft moan that unwillingly escaped. I had gotten very
good at blowing her. She was the first and only woman I had ever done this
with. My previous lovers would have never tried to emulate a man or use
anything that resembled a man. She was different. She enjoyed identifying as
masculine both in appearance and in manner, yet somehow she was soft and
feminine in our most intimate encounters. It had been confusing at first, but I
was starting to appreciate both sides of her.

Taking the cock into my mouth somehow felt very natural. Her
reaction slowly built; she pushed her hips up, forcing herself deeper into my
throat as she held my head tightly. The perfectly formed dildo was large and
firm and felt every inch an extension of her. My mouth stretched at the corners
to take in as much as possible. Moisture built around my lip and dripped out
and down her shaft. I wrapped my hand around the base close to her heat,
pulling it deeper and then pushing it back against her clit. She tensed her
legs and tried to stifle the sounds of pleasure washing through her.

My confidence built, and feeling her lose control drove me
to reach up with my other hand to feel the firmness of her breasts. She placed
her hand on top of mine and I expected her to remove it, but instead she forced
me harder to her. I squeezed her hard nipple between my fingers and louder
moans dared to escape her.

Was I in control of her desire? Was she going to allow me
whatever freedom I could imagine? After pulling both nipples to erection and
all but swallowing her cock, I reached between her legs for my ultimate reward.
She was wet and hot with her pleasure, and I could smell her arousal and felt
the steam rise from her body. All I wanted was to touch her pussy and know she
was pleased with me. Just as I breached the moist heat, she wrapped her hand
around my wrist and pulled me away. I struggled to push it back. She curled her
other hand back into my hair and slowly lifted me off her cock. She held me
tightly, with her eyes still closed, allowing the last few wrenching motions of
her satisfaction to flood out quickly. She opened her eyes and leaned in close
to my face. “I did not ask you to touch me there!” She pulled my head exposing
my face and neck to the sweet hot breath of her arousal.

I felt my lips swell and tingle as the blood rushed back
into them. Using my hair, she pulled me up across her lap. She landed firm
stinging blows to the round part of both cheeks one at a time. Her hand would
hold against my skin between smacks, maintaining the heat and prolonging the
next surge. Spanking always deepened my desire, for her while at the same time
making it very clear to me that I was never in control of her – or
myself. When my face was soaked in tears and the quiet muffled sobs immersed
into my inevitable orgasm, she would stop. Not allowing me to release the
primal urge she had created was a particular pleasure for her. I wanted to beg
her to touch me, to put her fingers deep into the burning desire she enticed,
but begging was forbidden.

I lay there across her lap, knowing she would not willingly
give me what I craved, but still wanting her to just take all I would gladly
give her. Instead, she released the collar and then me. I was kneeling at her
feet again while she tucked her cock back into her pants and stood, dropping
the collar into the seat of the chair.

“You may get dressed now. We have reservations at 8:00.”

I stood for the first time in several hours. Stiff and
regretting my decisions, I boldly announced, “I’m going to take a shower.”

“No. You are not. I want you to hold your misery between
your legs and be reminded of your choice.”

She wasn’t looking at me when she spoke, but I knew she was
serious. “Put on a dress and heels, with nothing more. I want you fully
accessible.” As I walked past her into my bedroom, she turned to look at me. “I
so love it when your ass burns for me.”

She spent three more days with me and then she was gone
again. I knew she worked at an exclusive resort several hours up the coast, but
for some reason exactly what she did there was just never fully discussed. Not
for lack of curiosity, but she had a way of diverting my attention and making
me forget everything but pleasing her.

~~~ 2 ~~~

Several days later, my mind drifted back. As I opened boxes
of newly arrived best-sellers and then looked up some first editions I’d found
in an old trunk in the back corner of the basement, the delicious memory of
that night at the restaurant flooded over me…

Sitting in the center of a crowed bistro with her hand up my
dress had made me feel completely powerless and more excited than I had ever
been. My body tingled as the familiar look set on her face. I felt her insistence
on my cooperation in the firm grasp on my thigh and the domination in her eyes
as she silently ordered me to allow her access. Knowing full well I would only
be satisfied when and where she chose only made me hotter. My inability to
resist was the direct result of my own desire to please her. Learning to
appreciate the scope of her control was my biggest challenge – and my
deepest contentment.

Her fingers had worked attentively while she calmly recited
to the waiter from the menu in her other hand. I smiled through clenched teeth
and pounding desire, wanting her to fuck me right there on the table. She
pulled me right to the edge only to push me back several times throughout the
equally tantalizing meal. The decadent dessert arrived, and I hardly noticed
the sweet cream and warm chocolate she placed in my mouth just as she plunged
her stiff fingers deeply into me, causing a profound vocal moan and then an
immediate heightened awareness of where I actually was. My expression must have
been obvious to everyone alerted by the sound. Several couples placed orders
for that particular dessert as we finished our wine.

Lesson Two

It had been almost two weeks since I’d seen her; and only
two brief phone calls and only one of those allowing me the physical release I
so desperately craved. She was firm on that particular rule. If I needed to
satisfy myself without her, then I obviously didn’t need her. I had no idea
when she would return, and thinking about her all the time did not help with
the distractions caused by my need. When she was away for so long, I sometimes
wondered if she was just another fantasy stirred by my dreams. Why would I
allow my body to go unsatisfied for so long simply because she demanded it?
I should just go upstairs and take care of
this need and be done with it.
The memory of the first and only time I had
tried this stirred deep inside me. I had been convinced there could be no way
she’d ever know what I did when she wasn’t with me. My bath – and the
fact that she had left me with such a yearning for physical satisfaction –
had led me that one time to disobey her direct request not to touch myself. My
moans had filled the air and just as I felt the surge run through me, I’d heard
the door to my apartment slam shut. She had caught me, and then left me to
worry about the consequences for more than 24 hours. I had been punished, and
the rule was once again explained. That wasn’t a mistake I wanted to make
again! I turned out the lights and locked the door behind me. I had to find a
distraction to keep my mind off my cravings and my hands busy.

The street lamps were starting to hum and there was still a
winter chill in the air. I wrapped my coat tightly to me. The other shops were
also starting to close for the night. The small diner up the block offered a
hot bowl of soup and a homemade chocolate chip cookie that brought back sweet
memories of my childhood. I waved at Mr. Garrett through the window of his deli
next door. He had been a friend of my grandfather for as long as I could
remember. He’d always kept a watchful eye when I was a child playing in the
alley between the stores, and he still looked out for me now. He and his broom came
to call if any unusual activity or sound at the bookstore caught his attention.
I felt safer knowing he also lived in the apartment above his shop, as the old
downtown brick streets were all but abandoned after dark.

I wrapped my hands around a warm bowl
 
and watched the
light fade into another lonely night through the large plate window. Far too
much time on my own; and I begin to wonder if the entire relationship was
purely physical. All my feelings were suddenly being controlled by my sexual
urges. Urges she had awakened or just plain created. I wasn’t sure if she truly
wanted me or if I just served a physical desire in her. My thoughts drifted. I
gathered my things and reluctantly headed for home.

As I rounded the corner I spotted her motorcycle parked under
the dim streetlamp in front of the bookstore. I hurried my pace toward it,
heart pounding and body excited.
She didn’t
call first. She always calls.
She was already inside, having finally used
that key she’d insisted she would never use.

“Hello,” I called out. The dim light from the small lamp on
my desk showed little more than shadows from the shelves. No response. Again I
called and then headed up the stairs to my apartment. The door was slightly
open, and I pushed it slowly. I could only see her silhouette in the window
behind her. As I reached for the light she spoke softly.

“Leave it off.”

“Is everything all right?” I asked as I placed my coat on the
hook by the door next to her heavy leather jacket.

“Come over here.”

Slowly moving toward her I felt the twinges of delight race
to my stomach. Low and deep they fluttered within me. She was sitting in the
chair with a glass of scotch I recognized only from the smell and the shape of
the bottle beside her on the table.

I knelt down in front of her and waited for her first
command. She took the glass to her lips and looked at me as my eyes adjusted in
the darkness. There was something different, something unsettling, something I
wasn’t willing to unleash by misbehaving. Questions flew through my mind, but I
remained quiet and still. I wanted her to tell me what was causing her mood. She
finished the scotch in her glass and poured another, sipping it while looking
directly into my eyes the entire time. Patiently and calmly I waited. This was very
unusual. There were no words between us, but I felt her strong need to just be
with me for the first time, and I was not willing to do or say anything to
interrupt it.

She placed the glass on the table and leaned forward. Taking
my face in her hands, she kissed me, deeply and passionately – the kiss
of a lover, not a Master. I reached my arms up and embraced her with no
hesitation. She allowed it, so I caressed the back of her neck and held her in
my arms. Holding her made like that made all my doubts flood away. She kissed
my neck tenderly. Soon the front of my blouse was open and her hands explored
my breasts, softly stroking my hardening nipples. The heat from her hand
penetrated the silky fabric of my bra, and she slowly worked her finger underneath
and pulled it up, freeing my breasts to fall exposed and wanting for her touch.
She backed off to look at them, allowing me to see the gentleness in her expression.
Desire and warmth flooded me as she looked back up into my eyes, and I think
that was the very moment she actually possessed me.

She placed one hand under my hair, bracing my neck, and the
other in the small of my back, and then tenderly laid me down on the floor as
she knelt over me. My blouse fell to either side, and she kissed my breasts and
stomach while reaching under my skirt to the hot damp pulse between my legs.
She pushed it up and drew my panties down and off. Her mouth flamed and I
tasted both desire and scotch as she kissed me. She pushed my legs up and traced
a hot path downward with her mouth until she rested between them comfortably.
Teasing and tasting the sensitive skin, then blowing softly on the moist trails
she left. Splitting my labia, and then allowing them to close again, torturing
my swelling, throbbing clit. Her tenderness nearly drove me mad.

My head rolled back against the floor and my eyes closed
tightly. She spread me with her fingers to gain full access to my wet
smoldering need. I moaned as the power of her affection surged through my body.
She pressed her open hungry mouth to me. Her tongue plunged deep as I pushed it
back out only to have her lap at my clit then stop and go back to penetrating
me with her thick skillful tongue. Her face was soaked as she drank in all I
offered. My hips thrust toward her reaching for more. She played me like a fine
instrument drawing my symphony of pleasure.

When I thought I would surely fall off the edge of my
sanity, she took my swollen clit in her lips and plunged two fingers deeply
into me. My back arched and I pushed against her with all I had to take every
inch of her. Flashes of pure truth rolled into soft waves of profound awareness
as she laid her head on my spastic stomach and wrapped her arms around my hips.
I ran my fingers through her thick dark hair while she rested. I held that deep
honest moment of tenderness in both my heart and the palm of my hand, and then I
fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes she was gone, and I was covered with
the soft throw from the sofa. The chill on the cold floor beneath the rug was a
direct contrast to the warmth that filled my memory. I slowly stood and walked
into my bedroom. The clock on the nightstand showed12:37
a.m
. I took off what remained of my
clothes and crawled into bed. Sleep did not return easily, though. My mind
raced back to the intense look in her eyes and the way she’d made love to me.
What was that?
Was it even real, or had
I emptied that bottle of scotch myself and it was all just a drunken dream?