Mentor

Mentor

Chapter 6 - Mentor

My phone pinged around ten in the morning.

Anita: "My spies report a successful exfiltration, accompanying an agent of an unknown power."

Me: "LOL what?"

Anita: "You weren't alone when you left Gabby's. Mission accomplished?"

Me: "I'll just say I'm sore today. In a good way, but sore."

Anita: "😲 🥵 😃 😃 😃 🍑"

Me: "Can I call you?"

Anita: "Sure"

I didn't want to call from anywhere I could be overheard, so I took a break and headed out of the office before dialing.

"So, yeah, it was interesting," I said, when Anita picked up. "Some firsts for me, and I'm not sure how I feel about them."

"Really? Was it a bad time?" my friend asked.

"Oh, no. It was, well, it was pretty awesome," I clarified. "I was, umm, restrained."

"You were... too quiet?" Anita asked, sounding puzzled, then interrupted my attempt to reply. "Oh no, I

seeeeee

!" She drew the word out. "You've never been tied up before?"

"No," I said. "And I guess it was exciting, especially with the ice, but letting someone I don't know tie me up - so much could have gone wrong, and I keep getting anxious twitches when I think about it."

"Ice too? Oh, my," said Anita, clearly amused. "But I get the point. Probably better to get to know someone first. Which can be difficult if it isn't a relationship, but just getting to know someone socially can build trust."

"And, no offense to her, but I feel like I should have a turn doing the restraining," I said, petulantly.

The phone carried Anita's musical laugh. "One time, and you've already decided you're the dom?"

"Not being in control was... Christ, Anita, it was hot," I said. "But it feels wrong for me. I don't like being in someone else's power."

"That's fair," she replied. "I can see that about you." Her tone didn't carry any negative vibe. "So when you say you're sore, you mean from the knots?"

"Ah, no," I said. "That was something else."

"Do tell?" The slight upturn in Anita's tone made it a suggestion more than an instruction. I was free to decline.

"Well, I guess technically I knew that I didn't have to forsake penetration to be with a woman," I said, "but I wasn't expecting it."

"I see," Anita said. "She used a strap-on?"

"Must have been," I said. "I didn't see it, to know how it fastened. But it was, umm, bigger than I'm used to. And it stayed hard, which I'm definitely

not

used to."

"You didn't see? Were you blindfolded too?" she asked.

"I was," I admitted.

"That

was

a lot of firsts," Anita agreed. "As your mentor, maybe I've failed to introduce you to some... facets of casual encounters. Should I remedy that?"

"Oh? How?" I asked.

"Since we don't have the chance to talk at work, I could invite myself over to your place to give you a crash course in the use of accessories," Anita replied.

"You know you're always welcome," I said. "Are you busy tomorrow? I'll make dinner."

"Hmm... Sunday would be better? Would that work for you?" she asked.

"Sunday's great," I agreed. "Come over around six?"

"That'd be awesome," Anita replied. "I'll bring part of my collection of toys and tools for show and tell." She lowered her voice until I could barely hear it through the phone. "Not many girls have seen my fluffy handcuffs."

"I... see," I said. "I look forward to it."

~~~~~

I rolled and baked the chicken meatballs in advance, and had the tomato sauce simmering, but didn't start on the linguini until Anita arrived, though I had water near the boil ready. I handed her a glass of chianti, then started on the pasta. While it cooked I added the meatballs to the tomato sauce and let them re-warm.

"Are those chicken?" Anita asked. "I thought you were supposed to drink white wine with chicken."

"The flavor's very pronounced," I said, "especially with the tomato, and cayenne. You need something robust."

"This is that," Anita said, looking over the bottle with its straw basket. "I like it."

Her eyes opened wide when she tasted the meal. "My God, this is amazing," she said. "You really can cook."

"I thought you knew that already," I said, with a grin. "I admit I took a little more effort with this than the last impromptu meal, but honestly, it's still simple."

"Mmhmm," Anita said, unconvinced.

Again, she insisted on rinsing the plates and loading the dishwasher. Averting my eyes from a detailed study of her appliance loading techniques, I poked at the small gym bag she'd brought and set beside the door. "Can I take a peek?" I asked.

"No," she said, turning from the dishwasher to frown at me. "Show and tell, remember?"

Sighing, I poured us another glass of wine.

~~~~~

We talked for a moment about work, and the classes that Anita had started after her internship had ended. "We haven't gotten very far into the syllabus yet, of course," she said, "but I've a feeling your teaching is going to make this year much easier than last," she said. "I might run project ideas by you."

"Of course," I said. "But, speaking of teaching..." I looked meaningfully at her gym bag.

"Yes, yes," Anita said, laughing. She glanced around the room. "This might not be the best place. Should we go to your bedroom?"

"I thought you'd never ask," I said, topping up our wine.

~~~~~

"Did your, uh, date talk about safe words?" Anita asked.

"Sunflower," I said, nodding.

"Sunflower?" she repeated.

I shrugged. "My word was sunflower. It seems fine."

"Mine's Kirby," Anita said.

"Like the video game?" I asked.

"Exactly like the video game," she replied. "Do you know what the safe word means?"

"Stop," I replied. "Disengage. Immediately. Without the safe word you're free to ignore any protests, even if she tells you no."

"Right," Anita said, unzipping her gym bag. She motioned me to the single chair in the room, then sat on the side of my bed, her brows furrowed as she looked into the bag. "Hmm, what first?"

"Fluffy handcuffs," I said, instantly. "You said few girls have seen them."

"Alright," she said, withdrawing two pink cuffs that were connected together. She handed them to me, and I saw that the connection wasn't a chain, as I'd first thought, but quick disconnect links. The inner surface was padded, while the outer had a velcro strap. "I see," I mused. "It looks like they work as handcuffs, but they can be separated to tether your hands separately. Couldn't you just unhook these catches though?

Anita shook her head, then motioned for me to give her the cuffs. When I did, she opened the velcro strip, then reached for my right hand. I allowed her to slip the cuff over it, then pull the velcro and fasten it. My fingers couldn't reach the velcro strap.

Then she took my left hand, cuffed it similarly, and said, "Try to unfasten them."

Twisting my hands around, I tried to find ways to reach either the straps or the disconnects, but I couldn't. My hands were bound fairly close together, and the lack of freedom of movement meant that each hand's velcro strap was out of reach of the other hand. I wasn't getting out of them unless Anita freed me, which she soon did.

"And you can clip other ropes and chains to the clips, to bind you to a chair or bed, or fasten your wrists to your ankles, or any number of use cases," Anita said.

"Wrists to ankles?" I queried, trying to picture the situation.

"If you get into bondage there are many ways to bind someone," Anita said. "You can find those out for yourself. I'm not into that. Just the element of control, or of frustration."

"Meaning?" I responded.

Anita took a ring from a pocket of the gym bag, then a length of rope. Opening one of the quick release catches in the cuffs, she slipped the ring through it and closed the catch. So now the cuffs were still fastened close together, but with an attached ring that she threaded the rope into, making a loop.

"Turn around,," she instructed. "It's okay. I won't abuse your trust." I stood and turned my back to her. A moment later, I felt a cuff fasten to my left wrist, then to my right. "Now sit down again," she said. I did so and felt the rope tighten around the chair. There was no tension on my wrists, but when I tried to move my arms were locked solidly in position. I wasn't able to move them to the left or right, and had no more than about a two inch play in the restraint if I leaned forward.

"So what would you do if your partner's fastened like this?" I asked.

"If you were naked, I could fasten your legs and ankles to the side of the chair," she said. Considering, she pushed my right knee to the side, then lifted my right ankle to the height of my hip outside the chair. "Or I could fasten your foot here, and you would have even less control. And I'd have complete access."

My heart sped up slightly at the thought of her having so much access - and of what she might do with it.

"Alternatively," Anita said, "I could go the frustration route." She moved my knees back together, then tugged on them, sliding me forward in the chair. Without any way to grip the chair, I couldn't lift myself back up.

Anita sat in my lap. "Enforced look-but-don't-touch," she said. "You can do as sexy a strip as you like, and your partner can't interrupt you, or touch you." She began to rock side to side in time to music only she could hear. As she did, she began to unfasten her cream button-front blouse, the top two buttons first, letting me see more of her collar bone, then from the bottom up.

My heart was speeding up again as she reached the last unopened button, taking several beats of her silent song to thread it through the buttonhole and finally fall open. She wasn't wearing a bra, and when the blouse parted I could see the sides of her small breasts, but she carefully avoided letting the blouse open further, even when she leaned forward and licked the base of my neck.

"How is this not abusing my trust?" I groaned.

"Because you're enjoying being frustrated," she said. "Your eyes say it all."

Lightly touching her fingers to the inward side of her breasts, she widened the gap, until I thought I could see the edge of her areolae, but when I tried to crane my head to the side she tugged her top further closed and waggled her finger at me. Then she leaned back to comb out her long hair with the fingers of both hands, flicking it back over her shoulders.

Still gyrating to her internal music, she slid backward off my lap and began to unbutton her denim shorts. When they were fully open, she turned away from me, lowered her shorts halfway down her thighs, and leaned forward to present a view of her narrow, black panty-clad ass.

Anita pulled her shorts back up before closing her blouse, which I could see had fallen fully open, then turning back around to face me. She glided back onto my lap, her hips rocking forward and back, her thighs caressing mine. Her unfastened shorts allowed me a shaded view of her panties and the very top of her thighs, but no more.

She laced her fingers together at the back of my neck as her dance reached its end. Then she remained sitting on my thighs as she re-fastened all of the buttons of her shirt, finally standing and turning away from me before buttoning her shorts.

Fully reassembled, Anita stepped behind the chair, and I felt the rope holding me in place loosen, then she ripped off the velcro straps and freed my wrists.

"Frustration's correct," I said. "That was a tease."

"Mmhmm," Anita agreed.

"Let me try," I demanded. "Lie down with your hands over your head."

Anita raised an eyebrow, but did as I instructed. I took a moment figuring out the best way to use the cuffs, then crossed her wrists and fastened them in place. My headboard had vertical supports only on each side, which wasn't useful for anchoring the rope, but after a moment's thought I passed the rope under the headboard and tied it to the decorative cross piece at the top. It held Anita as securely as Danielle had bound me.

I ran my fingernails down the sleeve of her blouse, over the inside of her elbow. She shivered slightly. Then I began to unfasten her blouse.

Anita's eyes widened slightly. "You took this view away too soon," I said. "Then you gave me the chance to find it for myself. Maybe you shouldn't assume that you can trust me."

"I gave you my safe word," said Anita. "I'm certain I can trust you to respect that."

"Absolutely," I agreed.

That was an interesting comment. In bringing my attention to the safe word, Anita was saying that until she chose to invoke it, she wasn't denying me permission to exploit the situation. I read it as broad consent, though she could retract it at any time. So I continued to unfasten her shirt.

When the last button was unfastened, I slid my fingers into Anita's blouse and slowly drew them apart. Her eyes darkened, especially when I lightly traced my fingertips over the upper surface of her breasts, parting the blouse until her small nipples were fully on display. My eyes took in the sight, and I breathed deeply.

Anita's eyes widened again as I unbuttoned her shorts. "A quick butt wiggle only calls for more," I said.

"Oh, it does?" Anita's tone thick with irony.

"It does," I stated, leaving her shorts pulled down to her knees. Then I added her inner and outer thighs to my fingers' exploration zone. I didn't touch her panties. Even so, she was clearly getting turned on. Her eyes were dark and her chest seemed to be rising and falling faster than it had been.

I did stop to consider whether I was taking unfair advantage of Anita's comment about safe words, but I didn't think so. She'd started the provocative games with her faux-strip. And I really didn't believe she'd brought a bag of erotic accessories to the house of a friend and sometime lover with entirely innocent motives. There's no question that we'd both been sexually fulfilled on our one night together, or that we were attracted to each other. If it hadn't been for the risk of relationship trauma we'd have probably fallen into bed together many times after that first night.

Other than, of course, the fact that I had no more claim on her time and her lust than any of her other lovers.

Taking the pretext of her mentorship to provide cover for another tryst was outside the rules, but not by a huge amount, and I was sure we would both be okay with it. It just wouldn't be an excuse we could use more than once.

So I continued to use my fingertips and fingernails on Anita's bare skin until I saw her belly muscles tighten with apparent arousal. Then I stopped touching her and picked up her gym bag.

"So what else did you bring?" I mused.

"Hey, no!" yelped Anita. She squirmed on the bed, but was held fast. "Show and tell, remember?"

"I'll show," I stated, "you tell. Okay?"

Anita scowled at me and made no comment.

There were several neatly coiled lengths of rope. I lifted them out of the bag and placed them on the chair I'd been sitting on. Anita attempted to shrug. "You never know what you have to work with," she said.

I looked in the side pockets next. There were a couple more clips and rings. I set those on my nightstand so they wouldn't get lost. Then a box of condoms. Two boxes... no, there was a third. I took them out and laid them beside the rings. I could feel that my eyebrows had risen sky-high. As far as I knew, Anita wasn't bi, as I was. She was exclusively into girls.

"I keep my toys very clean," she said, "but condoms allow safe sharing. A dildo won't get you pregnant, but it can transfer diseases."

"Ah, right," I said, then withdrew a white vinyl pouch, containing a set of straps, buckles and fabric that unfolded into a three dimensional shape. "This is for the... umm... thing," I said, with crystal clarity.

"Strap-on harness," offered Anita. "It holds the dildo."

"Right, that," I agreed, then produced a long, ridged silicone object like a bent cylinder, in hot pink. It had a bulbous head and flat base. "This must be the dildo part."

"Right," said Anita. "You know, you could free me and let me show you how it works."

"Not yet," I said. "I've got this."

I spent a moment figuring out how the dildo might attach to the harness, Anita very amused by the way I tried to put them together, then set them on the chair and resumed rifling her gym bag.

Next was a large plastic bottle of lube, labeled "Water-based" and "Flavored." I opened the bottle and took a sniff. "I recognize this," I said.

"Your partner shops locally," Anita said.

"Hardly a partner," I replied. "Is there a word for a one-night stand person? But yes, she said it was local."

"Steph says it's their best selling flavor," Anita said. "It's popular enough to bring customers in rather than have them shop online."

The last item I could see in the bag was a long, heavy white cylinder with a short fat head attached to the end by a stalk. It looked like a huge microphone. I raised it and began to sing. "There's no time for us... There's no place for us..."

Anita burst out laughing.

"Is this what I think it is?" I asked her, then pushed one of the buttons. The device made quite a loud buzzing sound, though the white cylinder felt stable. "God, it is, isn't it? It's huge."

"Yes, it's a vibrator," Anita agreed.

"Mine's like a quarter of the size," I said, "and quiet."

"And less powerful, and will have a shorter battery life, and will be harder to use with a partner," Anita said. "Which is why I included it in the show and tell."

"I see," I said. I pushed buttons until I found the lowest setting. I moved to stand beside the bed, then ran the tip of the heavy duty wand over Anita's lower belly and on to her panties. "So you'd use it like this on your date. With her tied up?"

Anita's dark eyes held mine. "Possibly," she said. Her chest was definitely lifting higher when she breathed in. I thought it was too soon for it to be a result of the vibrator. She was getting aroused by anticipation.

"Would this be the right setting?" I asked.

"If she's not used to it, maybe," Anita replied. "I usually start on the next level."

"Like this?" I pushed the power button.

Her breath caught. "Yeah, there."

At this second setting the vibrator was having a noticeable effect. Anita's face was becoming flushed and her lips parted. I pushed the button again for the next level. She groaned and the muscles in her belly tightened.

I withdrew the device. Anita seemed to take a breath of relief.

"Wait. Should I have put a condom on it?" I asked.

"It

is

mine, so I'm not worried, but the condom helps with cleanup," she said. "Especially with lube. Which is strongly recommended, especially at the higher settings."

"I see," I said. I set the toy aside while I opened one of the condom boxes and took out a packet. "Anything special about putting it on?"

"It's extra wide, so be sure to have the condom centered and stretched out slightly, but then it unrolls just like onto a dildo," Anita said. "Or onto a flesh dildo, I assume."

"Flesh dildo," I muttered, with a grin. I positioned the condom and found it unrolled easily and covered the vibrating head cleanly. Then I returned to Anita. I pulled her denim shorts off, then drew her panties down and off.

Anita's eyes widened. "You're just going to violate me? You're not even going to ask?"

That came too close to my own worries, so I lowered my voice and said, seriously, "Look, if I'm misreading the situation, say the word. I do

not

want to spoil our friendship."

Anita gave a barely perceptible shake of her head, and I felt a wave of relief.

"I am," I said. Then I squeezed out some of the lube and ran my fingers over her sex, feeling the slight fuzz of her almost-bare pussy. She moaned at my touch.