A Dance for Him (11 page)

I can’t even talk at this point - all I can do is pant and moan and stare at him in wonderment at what he’s doing to me, to my body.

I’ve never experienced that much pleasure in my life, not with my fingers, not with any dildo …

Soon after he pulls my hair back so that I’m forced to arch my back even more as he begins pounding into me - and this time he lives up to his threat (or promise?) to be rough, smacking my ass with his free hand as he drives mercilessly into me.

The whole thing feels incredibly, sublimely obscene - the only sounds in the room are his grunts, my moans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the sound of his cock in my soaking pussy.

As I near my climax he pulls me up to him, his hands moving forward to grab my breasts as he kisses my forehead from above.

I turn towards him and he kisses me full on the mouth.

As I dissolve into his embrace I come, in a spine-tingling full-body orgasm that’s so intense that for a moment I think I’m going to pass out.

He holds still as my walls contract around him, pulling out only when I’ve collapsed, spent, against him.

As I look at him, dazed and happy, he pushes me back on the couch, so that I’m half-sitting, half-lying down, my head supported by the back of the couch.

“Ready for my turn?” he growls.

I smile at him.

“You know I’m yours to do with as you please, Dr. Morland,” I whisper.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs, as he climbs onto the couch, so that his magnificent cock, still glistening from my juices, is bobbing in front of my face.

He tips my chin up with one hand and guides his cock into my mouth with the other.

As before, he starts out slow, pushing his thick shaft down my throat just enough to make me gag, then holding still so I have time to get used to it.

Once he feels me relax a bit he begins thrusting into me.

And this time he’s rough, inexorable. Before I know it, he’s got one hand wrapped tightly in my long hair and the other under my chin, and he’s going as deep as possible with each thrust, rutting into my mouth as though it were my pussy.

It’s not always easy to accommodate him, but it feels strangely exciting. I can’t say I’d ever fantasised about being dominated by him - I’d always thought he was the kind to
make love
- but there’s just something terribly erotic about the way he’s eyeing me as he uses my mouth, about the whole scenario, really.

I’d never have thought it would feel so good to give up all control to someone else, but then most people aren’t Sebastian Morland …

Eventually he pulls me off his cock and looks at me.

I imagine I must be a complete mess - I’ve got tears and saliva dripping down my chin to my breasts - but his eyes are dark with desire, darker than I’ve ever seen them, as he begins to fist his cock, staring at me all the while.

It doesn’t take long before I feel his hot cum hit my face. It hits my cheek at first, but when I instinctively open my mouth, he smiles and directs the rest of his ejaculate into it.

It’s pleasant, strangely salty, and as I lick my lips I see him glow at me, and I can’t help but smile back - he looks so terribly handsome, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this relaxed …

He sits down on the couch, pulls me to him, and kisses me, this time very tenderly.

“So you’re happy with me?” I whisper.

A roguish grin spreads across his face. “Do I look unhappy?”

“No … but you didn’t get to be as rough with me as you said you liked to be.”

He laughs.

“Oh, that! Well, Paige, I did go easy on you, I admit. Although you did take that face-fucking like a champ. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of experience, but it’s our first time together, and I didn’t exactly want you to run off screaming …”

“Oh, Dr. Morland,” I murmur as I smile at him. “You’re very sweet. I do appreciate it - especially given that it’s actually my first time ever with anyone -”

“It was your first time?” he exclaims, seemingly aghast, I’m not sure why.

“Well, I have experimented with a dildo, but this is the first time I’ve ever been with a man.”

He’s speechless for a moment.

“But – but you said you were on the Pill …”

“It’s not the most convenient thing to have a period when one’s working as a stripper,” I explain.

He’s looking at me with a strange expression on his face that I can’t quite read, an odd blend of agitation and tenderness and dismay.

“Oh, Paige,” he sighs finally. “I’m sorry. I really am. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.”

“B-but why? It was great,” I stammer, while I think inwardly:
please don’t let him regret this
.

He pulls me toward him, so that I’m nestling up to him, and strokes my hair.

“I don’t know, Paige, it’s just that I feel that a girl like you deserves something better than that for her first time. Something more romantic, more … meaningful, perhaps, if you know what I mean.”

Oh well, I guess it wasn’t very meaningful for him then
, I think.

It’s a thought that for some reason makes me want to cry, but I resist that temptation.

“I didn’t come here looking for romance,” I manage to say, without my voice wobbling too much, although I’m glad he can’t see my face as it’s buried in his chest.

His broad, strong, manly chest … the only chest I ever wanted to lay my head on.

He stiffens slightly, but continues to hold me, and we sit there in awkward silence for a while, until I finally break it.

“Do you still want me to come here next week, Dr. Morland?”

He starts slightly, as though taken aback at my question, pauses a moment, then clasps me tighter to him.

“Yes, Paige. I do. That is, if
you
want to come here next week,” he says, with a fervency that makes me think that maybe, just maybe, he cares a little more than his earlier comment suggested.

“I do, Dr. Morland,” I murmur, and nuzzle up to him.

He strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head.

“Same deal, of course,” he adds, a tad hastily.

His voice is kind, infinitely kind and reassuring, but his words send a chill through me …

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“I should probably go soon, Dr. Morland,” my beautiful darling says to me as she looks up at me with those clear eyes of hers, eyes that seem suddenly to have a vulnerability to them that wasn’t there before. “That is … unless you would like me to do something more for you.”

Fuck, I hate it when she talks like that, as though she were a prostitute and I her john.

But that’s what it’s become, hasn’t it? I’ve just paid her for her “company”, as the euphemism goes. And not just for that - I suppose I’ve just unwittingly paid her for her virginity as well.

I can’t say I’ve ever imagined I’d be in this situation. And of all the people who might have been involved in a crazy thing like this it has to be
her
…

“It’s all right, Paige,” I say as I kiss her on her forehead. “You’ve … done a lot today as it is.”

She smiles - a bit sadly it seems to me - and disengages herself to get up, grabbing her bag and the clothes left strewn on the floor before going off to the bathroom.

For my part, I get up from the couch and zip up my pants.

I didn’t come here for romance
, she said earlier.

What did she want then - money? or sex? Should this even matter to me? I mean, either way, she clearly got what she wanted, didn’t she? And I’ve just gotten to fuck the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, isn’t that what I wanted as well?

So why all this angst and self-hatred? …

I go over and pour myself a shot of brandy, which I consume in one go.

She emerges from the bathroom, now in regular clothes, looking for all the world like the archetypal sweet-girl-next-door.

“See you in class, Dr. Morland,” she says, almost timidly. “It’s all right, I’ll see myself out.”

Something - I don’t know what - compels me to go over to her as she’s getting her coat from the closet, take her in my arms, and give her a long, passionate kiss, a kiss that’s somehow meant to convey everything I feel about her, even if I don’t know myself what exactly that is.

She melts submissively into me as though it was the most natural thing in the world …

When I break off the kiss she looks at me questioningly, expectantly, as though asking me if I’m trying to indicate that I want her to stay for round two.

Not an unreasonable assumption, given that my cock is beginning to flex itself again, now that I’ve got her lovely body pressed against mine, even though that wasn’t my original intention.

Except I can’t bring myself to ask her to stay.

“I just wanted to kiss you again” is all I say by way of explanation as I help her into her coat and see her out.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Another week’s gone by in the meantime … another week in which I’ve not been able to think of much apart from Dr. Morland.

Not just of what we did, not just of all that hot sex on his couch.

I mean, yes, I’ve gotten myself off more than a few times to memories of that evening.

But it’s the mixed signals that I can’t stop thinking about. First he didn’t want to fuck me, then he wanted to fuck me (and did, of course). He said he was going to be rough with me, and then he wasn’t, not really, at least not as much as he said he would be - he didn’t tie me up or slap or choke me.

On the other hand, at least I could understand those mixed signals to some extent.

What I don’t understand is why he seemed so happy after he came, at least until I told him I’d been a virgin up till he took me … and why, right after suggesting that what had happened wasn’t sufficiently
meaningful
for a first time, he seemed so tender, so passionate.

So vulnerable, even, when he kissed me before I left …

When I saw him in class on Wednesday he alternated between staring at me and studiously ignoring me, and then when I was leaving he said “See you soon, Ms. Lytton.”

There wasn’t anyone else around at that point, he could perfectly well have called me Paige - and for that matter he could have just grabbed me and kissed me or something.

And yet his voice was so soft and gentle when he said what he said, so different from his classroom manner, his tone with any of the other students …

I wish I knew what to think, wish I understood more about him. My body seems to instinctively trust him and his touch, but my mind isn’t sure what to think.

I did run into him in a strip club, after all, and he was the one who offered me the option of being paid by him rather than by the guys at the club …

Maybe it’s just that I don’t want him to think of me as a hooker. Unless hookers are his thing, and if so I probably shouldn’t be thinking of him in boyfriend terms!