Dear Reader: This is the second part of a series of stories I plan to share. They are largely autobiographical, with adjustments for identity and continuity. The theme, which develops slowly (because that's how it happened) is primarily BDSM. If this isn't your preference, I would respectfully suggest that you might not want to read beyond the first two stories. If BDSM is your thing, I hope you enjoy these stories, which are most definitely not fantasies. Oh, and please remember to vote!
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I looked in the mirror and chuckled at my excited face. I spent most of the day after my encounter with Mark just going through the motions. My thoughts had drifted in Lit and History classes, and I had no idea what I'd eaten for lunch. All I could think about was the coming evening with Mark. My cheeks warmed as I remembered going down on him. What a crazy impulse! But once I'd seen his reaction, I
had
to have him. I'd been a sucker for a good hard-on since I was, well, much younger. He he, sucker, ohhhh yeah!
Seeing someone else who was turned on had always pushed my own buttons. I was no stunning beauty, breaking hearts at every turn, but enough guys seemed to appreciate my enthusiasm and willingness for sex (unlike a lot of the prudes from my high school) that I'd never been lonely for very long.
I'd always been careful to avoid the genuine jerks; guys who either bragged too much, thought only of their own pleasure, or bullied their girlfriends. This left a reasonable choice of guys who might not know the score at first, but learned quickly under my attentions. My steady high school boyfriend was amazed at my abilities, convinced that someone before him had taught me. He just couldn't understand that I'd always instinctively known how to be pleasing, and got just as hot giving as receiving.
I'd certainly gotten Mark's attention, at any rate. Funny, I should probably be worried that he was going to put me off nicely, but somehow I just didn't think it was going to happen. I'd learned, from careful inquiring, that he wasn't seeing anyone. Apparently he was way too involved in his grad work. All work and no play certainly made for one cranky tutor. I'd love to be the one who fixed that. I had a feeling there was one very intense man under his distracted, math-loving exterior, and I'd bet just about anything he'd be just as intense in bed as in his office.
Uh-oh, there I went, daydreaming again. I laughed and went to my closet, searching for just the right outfit for our "nice dinner". The usual collection of jeans and sweaters was pretty much out. What kind of look did I want: "proper" for a fancy restaurant, trendy, or flat-out "come and get me"? I opted for my very own style. I started with a wine colored suede-silk skirt, full and longish, that shimmered when I walked. I added a Victorian-styled white cotton blouse with full gathered sleeves, an antique lace collar, and a deep V-neck that showed off my cleavage. The icing on the cake would be a soft black leather vest with tiny black pearl buttons.
I laid the clothes on my bed, along with a pair of sheer thigh-high stockings (I detested pantyhose), and my favorite white satin panties and bra. They were pretty
and
comfortable, a rare combination. Whenever I'd worn them for my sweetie back home, they hadn't stayed on for very long.
I frowned at the skirt, which was kind of wrinkled. A glance at the clock told me I had enough time for a shower, so I could hang it in the steam. I loved Friday afternoons—my roommate, Carol, left early to make the short trip to her folks' house out in the country, so I had the whole place to myself.
I stripped in the bedroom and sauntered down the hall, rubbing the silk over my breasts. I hung the skirt up on the bathroom door, and then started the shower. Billows of steam puffed out and started their magic on the skirt as I stepped under the hot water. I washed my long auburn hair quickly, and then soaped up, rubbing the silky spice-scented lather over my breasts and stomach, then working my way down. I soaped the soft curls on my mound, and slipped a finger inside my slit. My clit was already slightly swollen. I'd been thinking about Mark all day so it was no surprise. I rubbed myself tentatively for a moment in slow, sensuous circles. It was awfully tempting to cum right now, just to take the edge off the evening, but I decided I liked the tension, and my energy would be better spent on Mark. I rinsed quickly, and then stepped out and toweled off. I slid open the window and my nipples tightened from the cool fall breeze.
Once the steam cleared I went to the mirror and took out my makeup. My skin was nice and clear, save for the freckles across my nose and cheeks. I went light on the makeup for our dinner date: a touch of blush and powder for color and smoothness; a dusting of golden eye shadow and mascara to bring out my very green eyes; and some wine colored lipstick that complemented my skirt. I had to go easy on it to avoid looking like some vampire's leftovers.
I toweled my hair until it was wavy-dry and worked it into a French braid down my back. It was nearly waist length now, and becoming a hassle, but I didn't have the nerve to cut it. I looped the heavy braid up and caught it in a black velvet bow at the nape of my neck, then pulled a few strands out on either side and let them fall in front of my ears in soft spirals.
I shook out the skirt and carried it back to my room. It was just after 4:00. I dressed slowly, thinking again about Mark, and wondering what he would say. I'd never been this excited about a date before. I really wanted him, but he was so reserved. I had no idea what he wanted. I sighed in exasperation. I wouldn't find out if I sat here! I buttoned up the vest and looked in the mirror. Not bad, but my throat and cleavage were a bit stark. I poked through my jewelry box and found the perfect thing, an antique necklace of small silver filigree beads with a long black cut glass teardrop that seemed to point the way to where I'd most like Mark's attention. Subtle as a brick wasn't I? I added small dangly black teardrop earrings, just to gild the lily.
I sat down to put on my favorite shoes, perfect with this outfit—not-too-high heeled black leather boots that laced up the front; sort of prim-looking, but sexy with this outfit. I stood up and inspected myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. I nearly laughed out loud at the effect, straight off the cover of one of my roommate's bodice-ripper novels. All I needed was a touch of perfume, my favorite spicy scent, on all the good places. I closed my eyes, wished myself luck, grabbed my purse, and headed towards Mark's office.
It was only a few short blocks, and this time I enjoyed the walk. The September sunlight sparkled on the sidewalk. I loved the way the silk skirt brushed my thighs as I walked. I waved at one of the guys in my Chem class, who waved back and leered appreciatively. I grinned back and strutted on my way, feeling quite full of myself.
I arrived at Mark's door slightly breathless…and 10 minutes early. I thought I heard his voice inside so I paced the hall for a moment. Hearing a pause, I knocked softly just to let him know I was there. To my surprise, the door opened immediately. Mark was still talking on the phone, but his eyes got wide and he made a quick goodbye when he saw me. He replaced the phone, and stepped back to let me in, making a big show of looking at his watch in surprise.
"So...you
can
be on time when you want to, hmm?" He teased.
I laughed, refusing to be baited this time. "My lab was canceled, so I had all afternoon to get ready." I pirouetted for him. "Is this okay?"
His eyes sparkled, and he had those smile-crinkles beside them again. "You look good enough to eat."
I grinned and tilted my head teasingly. "Where would you like to start?" I purred, taking a step towards him.
He put his hands on my waist, stroking the edge of the leather vest with his fingertips. "My, my, you don't waste any time, do you?" he asked, pulling me closer and nibbling my earlobe.
I shivered, feeling his warm breath on my neck. My nipples began to tighten. "I don't believe in pretense," I said, arching my neck for more, and reaching out to run my hand through his wavy dark hair, drawing him a step closer.
He caught me by the wrists, pushed my arms behind my back, and pulled me tight against him, covering my mouth and kissing me hard. I hesitated for a moment, surprised, then matched his probing tongue with my own, melting into him and whimpering slightly. No one had ever kissed me like that before!
As quickly as he'd caught me up, he let me go. I stumbled back, breathless, and looked up at him in surprise.
"Don't be a tease, Amy," he said softly, running a finger over my lips. "I told you before; you might get more than you bargained for."
