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Good Grades, Part Eight

26 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

adult, analingus, coed, cunnilingus, erotic fiction, erotica, mature, professor, sex, spanking, student, teacher

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He ran his hands over her hips to the pink plastic button on her shorts. With nimble fingers he popped the fly open and slid the zipper down. He slipped his hand inside and ran his fingers through her damp curls. She gasped and grabbed the edge of his desk to steady herself. His fingers teased her clit, stroking her lightly. “You have a very sweet pussy,” he said. He looked into her eyes and again she found herself lost there. His gaze was unswerving as he touched her, even as her own eyelids fluttered with pleasure.

Without warning, his fingers were inside her, filling her emptiness and she watched his composure slip. He shut his eyes briefly and swallowed hard, licking his lips. “So tight and hot,” was all he murmured as his lips found hers again. He leaned into her and she raised her leg, wrapping it around him, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper still. He let go of her mouth reluctantly and stepped back, pulling his hand out of her shorts so quickly it made her gasp.

“Why did you stop?”

He stepped back and she could see his erection plainly through his pants. “Slide your shorts off for me, please.” He was breathing hard and watched her intently as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband and let her shorts fall to the floor in a crumpled mass of cotton at her feet.

“Like this?” she asked, suddenly feeling exposed and wanting to cover herself with her hands.

He only looked at her from a couple of steps away. “If you had done as I’d asked and come to class like that, with only a little bit of a skirt covering you, I would have been powerless in front of that class. I’d have had trouble keeping my game face in front of a couple hundred undergraduate students. I would have carried the image of your pussy with me all day, remembering how it feels and how it tastes and smells. I would have thought of you all day long. That’s the power you would have had if you’d have done as I asked.”

Janie began to understand.

“But you decided to take the power into your own hands and do not as I asked, but as you wanted. Maybe you even wanted to see what I would do if you went against my instructions.”

Janie nodded and smiled sheepishly.

“If you had followed my instructions, you would have had me wrapped around your finger. You would have had all the power. Do you understand?”

“I do,” she said.

“Good. Now turn around for me, please.”

She turned, and smiled at him over her shoulder. “Like this?”

He smiled back and she felt goosebumps as he slipped up behind her. His hands ran over her soft, round ass appreciatively. “You have a beautiful ass, too.”

“Thank you,” she said, spreading her legs a bit and inviting him to touch her further.

“Tell me, Jane. Have you ever been spanked?”

She blinked. “What? No. Well, not since I was little.”

“Hmm. You have an ass that’s just begging for a spanking.”

His hands were hot on her skin. In a low, rather timid voice, she asked, “Will it hurt?”

He chuckled. “Not really. I could make it hurt, if you wanted me to, but I wouldn’t at first.”

She swallowed hard. “Would you like to spank me?”

She heard his voice catch in the back of his throat. “Yes. I would like to very much.”

She turned her head away from him. “I trust you.”

Slowly, she leaned forward and put her hands on his desk. She arched her back and spread her legs a bit wider for him, her body trembling and tingling with anticipation.

She jumped at the touch of his hand on her bare ass, then giggled nervously as he only stroked her softly, dipping his hand between her legs, turning her laugh into a soft sigh. He rested his left hand on the small of her back and with his right hand, patted her round rump. One light tap, then his fingers inside her again. A second tap, harder this time, followed by more gentle caresses between her thighs.

Each time was a bit harder than the last, always followed by his hand on her cunt, inside her, or flicking lightly over her hard clit. When she felt his fingers slide away, she knew to expect the flat smack of his palm on her ass, and each time, she grew to anticipate it. She craved it.

Her cunt was dripping and swollen, and her ass cheeks were growing hotter with each slap of his hand. She moaned with each blow, wanting more, wanting it harder, wanting to feel it sting.

“More,” she said, gripping the edge of the desk in a half-plea, half command. “Faster.”

She gasped at the crack of his palm on her, then a second one, harder still, and a third. Her legs were shaking as again he slid his hands between them and touched her, bringing her closer and closer to coming. “More,” she begged breathlessly. “Don’t stop.”

His wet hand smacked against her reddened cheeks, the primal crack of flesh on flesh sounding loud in the small office and making her lose control. She imagined what it looked like to him, what the soft, white globes of her ass looked like reddened and swollen from his hand, of how pink and shining her cunt would look to him as he took her from behind.

As if he could read her mind, she felt his hands part her cheeks and she cried out as he sank to his knees on the rough, industrial carpet and put his mouth on her spread pussy. He lapped at it greedily, running his tongue over her clit and sucking it hard. His hands were rough on the tender, red skin of her ass as he spread her wider, running his tongue from her wet cunt up to the soft, sweet puckered whorl. She squirmed, suddenly embarrassed at the intimate touch on a spot no man had yet explored, but her protests died on her lips as he breached her virgin defenses with his tongue. She felt herself open for him and moaned at the deliciousness of his warm tongue inside her. His fingers were busy in her cunt, filling her, stroking her clit and bringing her close to the edge. She hung on, wanting the exquisite pleasure to last, thrilling at the new and unfamiliar sensations mingling with those she knew so well.

When she finally gave in, when she let herself go and allowed the feelings to crash into her, she cried out, coming hard, leaning back into his mouth and hands, her legs and hands shaking as she tried to remain on her feet.

Only when the last of the throbbing subsided did he pull away from her, leaning back on his heels and easing her gently onto his lap. His arms were around her, holding her close, pressing her red ass against him so that she could feel his need for her. She leaned into him, and when she could again speak, she leaned her head back on his shoulder and whispered, “I want to give you that same pleasure.”

He chuckled. “That’s another lesson for another day.”

Keep reading…

From “I Am Yours”

10 Wednesday Oct 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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Tags

BDSM, erotic fiction, erotica, femdom, mistress, paddling, slave, spanking, strap

In “I Am Yours,” Mistress Ann’s favorite pet gets a lesson in boundaries. “I Am Yours” is published in its entirety in Not Safe for Work. 

*****

B saw G’s eyes fill with confusion as he was led away by Alice to parts of the house unknown. B knew the kind of strength and power that Alice could put behind a paddle, and his cock throbbed anew at the mere thought of her expert application of Ann’s punishments.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ann returned to face B, standing in front of him. Her voice was low–firm, but gentle.

“You crossed a line,” she said to him again, slowly peeling the condom off and disposing of it. She ran her fingertips over the sensitive flesh, making him choke back a moan.

“I got carried away,” he said, his voice husky with desire for her. “It won’t happen again.”

She stepped closer to him and pressed her palms against his chest. He shivered at her touch, knowing that she could feel his need for her as if it was a separate entity in the room with them. “You are mine,” she reminded him, running her hand over the sensitive, raised skin of his brand. “I am not yours.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I would hate for three little words murmured in desperation to spoil a perfectly lovely relationship,” she said.

He swallowed hard, his throat feeling suddenly tight. “I won’t allow it,” he assured her. “I won’t forget my place again.”

“I will make sure you don’t,” she said, retrieving a thick, black leather strap from it’s hook on the rack. He took a deep breath, anticipating the searing pain to come. Ann reared her arm back and brought the strap down on his buttocks. He gasped, savoring the sweet sting.

Again and again, she marked his skin with the wide, thick leather strap, leaving deep red welts that criss-crossed his ass and thighs. His flesh burned, the pain increasing exponentially as she struck him, the pleasure mingling with each stroke. His moans turned to cries, incoherent and involuntary ejaculations that rose in volume and intensity.

When she finally stopped, he let his weight sag against his restraints. His ass was on fire and his breath was coming out in ragged gasps. Ann crossed in front of him and held the leather strap up to his lips. Gratefully, he kissed it, and gently, she wiped a tear off his cheek with her thumb.

*****

If you’d like to read more, Not Safe for Work is available for the Kindle, in paperback, and for the Nook. 

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"Two well-assorted travelers use
The highway, Eros and the muse.
From the twins is nothing hidden,
To the pair is naught forbidden;
Hand in hand the comrades go
Every nook of nature through:
Each for the other they were born,
Each can other best adorn.”

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

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