Scintillectually Yours

Ah, what’s a day or two in the grand scheme of things? Our dear Ang, the Sweltering Celt, has given us a lovely little assignment this week—I present to you my offering on the theme of “Give and Take.”

Each of my limbs is firmly tied to each of the four posts flanking the queen size bed. My body is stretched to its limits. I see nothing but blackness but feel the knot of the scarf at the back of my head. You have taken my freedom of movement. Now you give me something else.

(just a taste) the touch of your tongue upon my clit

(and I jump) i quiver with antici…pation (grin)

I can feel the pressure of your weight ease off the bed. I hear you walk around to one side (my right side). My head shifts involuntarily in your direction.

(swat) the leather crop comes down upon my breast. I quickly straighten my head but my back arches for more as a groan escapes my lips. I wait (hoping) for more but sense you moving again. You are standing at the foot of the bed. I understand you are watching me. Examining me.

(i feel exquisitely vulnerable. exposed.) You take another taste. Your tongue runs the length of my pussy and my hips buck upward in your direction.

(you pull away) I ache for you and begin to plead although you have bade me be silent throughout.

(please please please please) Give it to me. I want it.

(what? what do you want? tell me.) You. I want you.

(i want you inside me)

(please please please please)

No. You continue to give me, little by little, what I want. Your tongue, your palm, one finger, the crop. And then…

(and then)

you kneel upon the bed and plunge your cock deep inside me and give me exactly what I need.

(thank you thank you thank you thank you)

Ang, the Sweltering Celt has asked that this week’s fantasy involve her as part of a contest to honor the anniversary of her blog site. I am more than happy to oblige…

I was doing my best to deliver a captivating lesson to my overcrowded lecture hall. While I flipped through slides and attempted to navigate my cursory notes, my gaze kept slipping to the woman sitting in the far left side of the first row. I glanced surreptitiously at the class roster. Ang. Over the last several weeks she had moved from the back of the hall slowly down through the rows until, today, she watched me intently. Her big, beautiful eyes peering at me over a pair of wire rim glasses. While I might have been more distracted by the ample cleavage revealed by her low-cut tee, or by the hint of creamy thighs when she crossed and recrossed her legs, it was the rope that was throwing off my game.

The rope. Instead of taking copious notes as I fumbled through what should have been a thoroughly practiced presentation, she was toying with a piece of black silken cord, about 16″ in length or so. It wove in and out of her hands. She pulled it taught and then let it go slack. I cleared my throat a few times and tried to concentrate. I could hear murmers in the classroom and knew I was losing my audience even as I became the audience to this highly charged bit of play in the corner. I had to assume it was intentional. It looked intentional. I shook it off and clicked on the next slide.

My eyes drew back to her just before the bell rang. The rope had disappeared, her head was bent over her notebook. I breathed. I finished my lecture. I thanked my students and turned to gather my belongings. I had just put my laptop in my bag and turned around to leave, bumping smack into her. She had been standing silently behind me. I muttered my apologies and she gave me the most mischievous grin I have ever seen. Reaching around me, she dropped a folded piece of paper and the black silk cord onto the desk and walked away without ever saying a word. I picked up the note. “You seem a little tongue-tied. Want to try the real thing? Tonight. 9:30.” and an address one town over.

Oh, I did. I definitely did. After showering, dressing, stopping to masturbate twice with the tantalizing thoughts of what may lie ahead, I got in the car and drove to the address given. My knock on the door was answered by a truly handsome man, which threw me for a curve. He just smiled and said, “I believe Ang is expecting you.” He gestured toward the living room, alight with candles. She sat on a comfortable sofa, surrounded by many feet of that same black silken cord, along with all manner of floggers, paddles, clamps, and other accoutrements that promised a long night of amazing wonders. She looked up at me and smiled. I swallowed as she hooked her finger toward me and patted her lap, reaching for a black leather flogger as I moved closer.

And so the teacher becomes the student. The student, the teacher.