A new client. I carefully scan the documentation to ensure he's past his eighteenth birthday and has passed the physical. I leave my desk and walk into the classroom, which looks more like a formal sitting room. He looks up and I don't give him any time to think.
"Kiss me."
He stands, moves over to stand next to me.
I feel his lips touch mine, the pressure tentative, careful. He's frightened. I pull back, open my eyes.
"That was so nice. A sweet kiss, saying that you like me."
"Thank you." He is sweet. Someone raised this one right. Let's see if I can find the fire in this one.
"This time, kiss me like you intend to make me glad that I'm a woman." That's oblique, but we'll see how it goes.
This time he pushes a little harder. His hand comes up to the back of my head, controlling the kiss, our time together.
I part my lips, waiting.
Here it comes, at last, his tongue enters me, starts exploring. I try to pull away and he offers just a hint of resistance before he releases me.
Excellent. Men are naturally agressive. That will work for now.
He looks frightened, again.
"Don't worry, I liked it just fine. It's just, you surprised me."
"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what to do."
I laugh, "No, it's my bad. Every time a girl offers some resistance, it's not because she wants you to stop. Sometimes, it's playful, wanting you to assert yourself. You held me just a moment, there, and guess what, I liked it. You took control. I want that."
His face relaxed. He's flush, I can tell he wants the lesson to continue. I do have his attention, so...
"Now, always remember Rule Number One - - -"
His color drops just a bit. "No means No."
I want to smile. He's reviewed the brochure I sent over to prepare him.
"Yes. You'll have to deal with silly girls, and serious ones, smart ones and some not so smart, experienced girls and inexperienced. Most of the time, they don't know what to do any more than you do. If you're open to their feelings and sensitive, you'll have a hint of what to do next. At best, it is a mutual exploration. Try it and see, and always?"
"Look for feedback!"
"That's right. Now, what do I want you to do next?"
"I'm not sure."
"I'm not running away screaming, so why don't you try something?"
He looks into my eyes, then reaches up and brushes back my hair, strokes my ear, and rests his hand on my shoulder. I have a winner!
I close my eyes, tilt my head, and part my lips for him.
His kiss begins tenderly, his hand strokes my neck and his other hand moves around my waist. This one has potential!
The kiss deepens and I open my lips for him. His tongue enters me, wrestles mine a bit, but he doesn't stop until he has control. I'm responding.
I suck on his tongue, gently, massaging his. My hands rise to his shoulders, rubbing them, feeling their strength.
I pull back long enough to say, "Kiss my neck, darling." I bend away to offer it to him.
He moves down and begins kissing my neck, passionately kissing and sucking. I pause and enjoy this a bit. Finally, I moan for him.
"That means keep doing that..." He does up and down, up and down, then switches sides, forcing my head to tilt the other way. Oh, my, he's taking over, yes, yes, yes...
"Don't stop, but listen. What you're doing is perfect, keep going. But now is when I want you to slip my dress and bra straps off my shoulders."
"How am I supposed to know when it's okay?"
I moan again for him. "A moan of pleasure might mean keep going and it might be okay to try something more. If it's not okay, she'll stop you. The way she stops you tells you if you went too far or if you're supposed to keep doing the old thing but stop doing the new thing."
He pulls away, looks into my eyes, then his hands move to my shoulders, and gently, oh so gently, slowly, oh so slowly, slips first one strap down, then the other. In his eyes, I see no hesitation, no doubt. They do not ask, they command.
"Ohhhh..."
With a single movement, his lips move to my chest. He kisses my skin passionately, his tongue tastes of me, his eyes, oh, his eyes as they savor the flavor.
My flavor.
I am...
"Stop. Now."
"What?" His tone furious, imperious, his eyes flashing with ...no, not anger, with passion. Passion. I wanted to see the fire.
Here it is.
My lover, to whom I was so ready to surrender, to give all I had, pulls away from me. His arms drop and I watch as he trembles in his lust. His lust for me.
"You didn't do anything wrong." My voice is calm, controlled, but focused.
"Why...?"
"I stopped you because I wasn't the teacher, any more. I lost myself to you. I wanted you to ... keep going, and to have me..."