Bittersweet Deceit (3 page)

“Give it up, girl. You know all about my guys. Fess up.”

“He’s perfect for me,” I sighed. “You know I hate when their cock is too long and bangs up against my cervix.”

“I like that—”

“Yes, that has been well established.”

She grinned and said, “And...”

“I’d guess six to six and a half inches
, and average thickness, but he gets harder than anyone I’ve ever been with. Oh, and the stamina...”

Jacqs chuckled again and said, “On that note, I’m
going to take off.” She rubbed her thighs and stood. “Aidan wants to take Adjustable Bend into the open ocean today, and I think the boys have something planned for me.”

I stood up and faced her as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. “Now who’s blushing?” I asked.

“I think I have some idea of what they might have in mind.” She twitched her eyebrows and made a funny face.

“I hope you’re right.”

After we hugged goodbye and I closed the door, I rested my back against it. After a moment, I took a deep breath, stood up, and went to the bedroom to text Mason. Another message waited for me.

MM:
Wear the short black skirt you know I like with the white blouse. You know the rest.

Me:
I need a few minutes to get ready.

MM:
She’s gone?

Me:
Yes.

MM:
On my way!

My pulse raced as I quickly disrobed and donned the schoolgirl outfit Mason had bought for me. He didn’t care for the knee-high, white socks or the saddle shoes that usually went with the look. In his version, the naughty college student had stockings and garters with very high heels. I slipped into my favorite red, Manolo Blahnik five-inch heels that I only wear indoors, and shut the bedroom door to see myself in the full-length mirror. The short skirt barely covered my butt so the black straps of the garters
could be seen. Without a bra, the thin, white blouse didn’t hide much. My rosy areolas could be seen through it. I left the first three buttons undone so Mason could see some cleavage. My hair and makeup definitely needed some attention.

Dressing for the scenarios he created had an effect on me.
Usually conservative, I was blossoming into a sexy, more confident version of myself.

I wasn’t sure how much time I had to get ready, so I moved with haste. I flipped my thick hair over, which was still partially wet from the shower
, blow-dried it, then teased it with a comb to give it volume. I used a black, coal liner around my eyes and a heavy layer of mascara. After putting on deep-red lipstick, I took in my reflection.
Perfectly slutty
, I thought.

I hurried to the second bedroom and pulled the desk away from the wall
, angling it so the office chair faced the door. The second chair in the room, I set on the opposite side of the desk facing in. Several blank sheets of paper sat in the middle of the desktop and I left them there. I tidied the penholder and lined up the printer so it sat flush with the edge. When I yanked open the bottom drawer, I found it empty.

“Shit! Where did that damn paddle get off to?” I frantically looked around
the room, checking near the blue, covered futon couch and the closet. Then I remember and laughed. I went back into the living room and opened the drawer of the end table. The heavy, shellacked, wood paddle had Mason’s college fraternity’s Greek letters along the handle.

My eyes swept the area
to find places that needed attention. I pushed the chairs flush with the dinner table and put the spices back in the cabinet. While I rinsed the sink, I heard a knock. I ran on tiptoe back into the second bedroom and shoved the paddle into the drawer of the desk. Back at the front door, I said, “One sec.” I tried to settle the excitement pounding in my chest by bouncing on my toes. Then I flipped the lock and opened the door.

He scanned me from head to toe and whistled. “You are stunning.”

I erupted into laughter over his outfit: the tweed coat with oval patches on the elbows and the loafers were a nice touch, as was the pipe with a man’s face carved in ivory in his hand, but the spectacles perched on the tip of his nose were what did it to me.

“Is that any
way to greet your professor, the one who is willing to help out with your dismal grade in my class on the failure of American politics in the twenty-first century?”

“Well, no, um...” I tried to hold my breath so I wouldn’t giggle. I stood up to my full height
, which made me taller than him in my five-inch pumps. I waved him through the door.

Even in his silly costume, he looked overwhelmingly handsome.

He turned to face me and I could almost feel his hands on me, as if his light-blue eyes held the power to penetrate the surface of my skin. Simultaneously I loved and hated that someone could have that kind of sway over me.

“I’ll be in my office,” he said as he slipped off his shoes by the door. Over his shoulder, he said, “I expect you there in one minute. Do not keep me waiting.”

“Yes, Professor Mason,” I said, using a soft, demure tone and getting into character.

After ducking into the bathroom to check my appearance I knocked on the door to the second bedroom, which he had left partially ajar. I leaned my head in.
“Excuse me, Professor, do you have a minute to discuss the grade I received on my paper?” I asked in a wispy voice trying to channel a mix of Betty Boop and Marilyn Monroe.

He beckoned me in with one hand while looking down at the papers in front of him, the pipe hanging from his mouth.

I suppressed a chuckle and pulled down on the hem of my skirt. My heels sunk into the thick, cream-colored carpet as I kept shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

“Stop fidgeting,” he said, looking up over his glasses. “Sit.”

Settling into the chair that faced him, I crossed my legs.

“Keep your legs open,” he practically shouted.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, Professor.”

He removed his glasses and the pipe and placed them on the desk. “Now about your grade...”

His eyes locked on mine and I felt myself leaning forward, being pulled into his orbital field of love and lust. Although I pissed and moaned about the games we played, I couldn’t fail to recognize their purpose. If we made passionate, intimate love each time we came together, we would never part. This way we could still enjoy each other while creating a level of distance between us.

I believed, down to my soul, that he loved me. I
couldn’t deny it when he looked at me like he did in that moment. The intensity brought tears to my eyes, which I hurriedly blinked away. I cleared my throat and said, “Yes?”

“How do you intend to make
up your grade?”

“Um...” I said, getting back into character
. “I thought you might have some ideas.” A coy smile played on my lips.

“I do. Fold your skirt up and spread your legs wide.” He propped his elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his hand.

“Excuse me, Professor Mason, but—”

“There are no buts except what I plan to do to yours in a few minutes. Either do what I say, or get out.” He leaned back in his chair and pointed to the door.

I looked to the door and then back to him, squirming in my chair. “But sir, what if someone comes in?”

“Well, I imagine they’ll know what a poor student you are and that you’re willing to pander to my whims to get better grades. I’m sure all the other professors will be thrilled to know.”

I did my best to look embarrassed and ashamed, dipping my head down. My nipples had trouble cooperating, they flared hard and erect.

“
Ahem,” he muttered and pointed to my legs.

I stared directly at him, spread my legs wide, and slowly lifted the edge of my skirt. Moisture had
already gathered between my thighs during the short scene.

“No panties and a smooth mound? I have to assume you’ve already met with Professor Charles.” His brow creased and his jaw tightened.

“No, no. I have never had a class with him. I promise.” I closed my thighs slightly.

“Keep your legs open. I can see you’re already wet. I want to observe you while you make yourself come.”

“Professor?”

“No ifs, ands, or buts. Get to it.”

“Yes sir.” I trembled slightly, I felt so turned on.

He circled around the desk and perched on the edge.

I snaked my right hand into my shirt and fondled my breast while my eyes took in his hard, cock straining against his pants. With my left hand, I caressed my thighs working slowly up towards the warm, wet cleft between my legs.

Spreading my knees even wider, I tickled around my aching pussy and delved my fingers into my wetness. Mason’s eyes flared when I brought my fingers to my lips and coated them with my natural juices.

“Ohhh man,” he groaned. “Oh sorry, fell out of character. Okay, I’m back.”

I licked my lips and dipped my fingers back into my pussy. He loved watching me fuck myself with my hand,
so I forced my fingers in deep. My eyes trailed away from his as I caught him rubbing his erection through his clothes. I wanted to unzip his pants and free his cock, but it was his game and I committed myself to playing it through.

I tweaked my small nipples, pulling and rolling them until they were longer and distended.

“Undo another button on your shirt and pull your breast out,” he ordered.

My tight
, white shirt became more like a corset when I pulled it down around my breasts. Though still pert, my cleavage spilled over, and I could feel the cool air against my hardened peaks.

Scooting my ass forward in the chair, I trailed my right hand under the waist of my skirt, and found my already pulsing clit. I finger fucked myself with my left hand while I circled my arousal with my right.

He lowered his zipper and I looked up just in time to see him extract his cock and balls through the opening in his pants.

Masturbating for Mason coupled with watching him cup his testicles and draw a finger over the tip of his erection to coat the head with his
pre-cum caused me to pant. “Oh god, I’m close.”

“Stop!” he shouted.

“What?” I said, completely breaking character and yanking my hand out from under my skirt.

“You are forbidden to come before your punishment. Remove all of your clothes except for your garters, stockings, and heels.”

“Yes, Professor Mason,” I said, with a wispy voice, playing the naughty college student again.

“Come around the desk and lay face forward across it.”

The cold air conditioning in the room along with the anticipation of the paddle had me shivering. I shifted into position, my arms folded under my chest, which allowed me to look over my shoulder. “What will you do to me?”

“Whatever I want, of course.” He opened the lower drawer. “Stay still and this will be over quickly. Ten
, plus two extra swats for making me wait so long, and I expect you to count.” The punishment didn’t start right away;
instead he ran the rope tassel that hung from the hole in the bottom of the handle across my back and over my full, round buttocks. Then he caressed each one and stepped back.

I felt the air move behind me before the first spank of the paddle landed on my right butt cheek. “Oof
. Oh, one!”

“You have behaved well—so far—therefore your grade has moved up to a D. Let’s see if we can improve on that.”

The paddle hit my left cheek a bit harder and the heat quickly migrated to my pussy. “Two,” I grunted, struggling to stay still.

The strikes landed faster as I called out, “Three, four, five, six.”

He paused and said, “That’s worth at least a C. I’ve always known that students could be quite trainable.” He ran his hand over my tingling ass and trailed his fingers along my spine, up to my shoulders. He took me by surprise when he gripped my neck and held my head down, my cheek pressed to the desktop. I moved my arms to my side, my breasts sandwiched against the surface. “Let’s see if we can get that grade up even more. Take six straight thwacks in a row and I can safely bump you up to a solid B. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Professor.”

The strength of the punishment increased as did the wetness gathering between my legs. I yelled out each of the remaining swats, grunting and groaning, unable to move away.

“Very good,” the professor said. “Shall we shoot for an A?”

“Oh, sir,” I panted, “what would I have to do for that?”

“Spread your legs wide and find out.” He let go of my neck and situated himself behind me. I felt the swollen head of his cock
rubbing at the entrance to my pussy.

“Oh yes,” I moaned as I felt him penetrate me. Already so turned on, I knew it wouldn’t take me long.

He stroked deep and long, using my shoulders for leverage. “Such a nice and tight pussy. I think your pussy deserves an A.”

Although the room was cool, all I felt was the warmth of his body and the intensity of being taken from behind and truly owned. I hissed and moaned as my first orgasm began to contract and spread the heat that caused me to combust.