Fifty Days of Sin (2 page)

“Did I give you permission to
move your hands?” I demand.

“No,” he responds, looking
puzzled.

“No, what?”

“No, Dr Gardiner.”

“I was going to let you come
inside me,” I tell him. “But you’ve been disobedient, and
disrespectful.” I ease myself off him. “Stand up.”

He does as he’s bid, still a
very enjoyable sight with his toned body and his big erection. I
lie down on the sofa on my front, and part my legs a little.

“You can make me come again now.
And next time, perhaps you’ll remember to do as I tell you.”

“Yes, Dr Gardiner.”

“Touch my thighs. Tease me.
Slowly.” He obeys and I feel his hands gently stroking and
caressing the back of my legs. Oh, I love to be touched here. My
sex is tingling, ready to be stroked too. “And my bottom,” I tell
him. He moves his way up to tease the flesh of my behind, until I
tell him, “Touch me inside, Michael.”

And he does. First one finger,
in and out of me where I’m still wet from his tongue and from the
arousal of our interrupted sex. “Make me come,” I command him at
last, and he moves his wet finger out and starts to tease my
clitoris. He rubs it, still sensitive from the climax he gave me
only a few minutes ago, and I push my hips forward. He’s getting
the sofa wet, I think inconsequentially, but at least you can wipe
leather clean easily. Then all such thoughts leave my head as the
sensation builds and he brings me to a climax, and I’m shuddering
and gasping with pleasure as I reach orgasm, bucking against the
sofa and then panting as I come back down to earth.

I turn my head to look at him. I
smile, and shift my position, lifting my hips and getting onto my
knees on the sofa. I’m on all fours now. “You can come inside me
now, Michael,” I tell him. “You can fuck me.”

He doesn’t need telling twice.
He’s on the sofa behind me in an instant, and then he’s inside me,
his erection filling me. He’s so turned on now that the shock of
his first thrust makes me gasp. Then he’s slamming hard into me
again and again. I brace my hips to meet his thrusts and bite my
lip to stifle my moans as I revel in the pleasure of his deep
penetration. This is always the part I like the best with Michael:
when he’s finished taking whatever punishment I’ve had to devise
for him and he lets go, abandoning himself to the sensation of
ramming deep inside me as he builds towards orgasm. Then he pushes
in even harder, groaning softly and I feel him pulse inside me as
at last he comes.

He pulls out, and we both get
off the sofa. He grins ruefully and I pad across the room to fetch
a box of tissues from my desk. “You’ll be needing these,” I tell
him, and I pick up my underwear from the pile of carefully-folded
clothes. I dress myself in my bra and knickers. Then I pick up the
black trunks from the floor and offer them to him.

“Thanks.”

Once his underwear is on, I put
my arms around him and he hugs me back. “Feel good?” I ask him.

“Yes. Very good.” I glance up at
him and he looks sheepish. “Although I liked my last punishment
more.”

“Michael, you know I can’t cane
you in college.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I told you, it’s too
noisy.”

“Can we go to your place next
time then?”

“Yes,” I grin,
“I think we can go to my place next time.” I put a hand up to
stroke his cheek, rough from the stubble. Then I pull him to me for
a little kiss. “It’s time we got dressed anyway. I live perpetually
in fear of someone knocking on the door in the middle of one of our
little sessions. I know you’re not one of my own students, but it
still wouldn’t look great to be discovered
in flagrante
with you. I have to say,
my house is infinitely preferable.”

We dress. He kisses me deeply
again, and we hold each other. I like the feeling of being wrapped
in his arms. I’m glad he’s happy to give normal affection
sometimes, without the kinky element; I would find it too weird if
he was submissive all the time. Eventually we say goodbye, as we
both have work to do.

Then I sit down at my desk. I
have a stack of papers to read through. I can’t help wondering,
though, what I should think up for the next time he comes round to
my place. As enjoyable as the sex is with Michael, I get the
feeling that he’s disappointed when I don’t hurt him enough. I
think there’s going to come a point when he’s pushing for more and
more punishment, and I just won’t feel comfortable giving it to
him.

Still, I’m accustomed to short
relationships – if ‘relationships’ is even the right word. I like a
little variety, and Michael knows that I don’t see him exclusively.
Before his next punishment session I have a very hot date lined up
with a certain tall, handsome twenty-three year old called Edward.
I met him at a friend’s wedding recently. We chatted and
immediately found that we had a connection. By mutual consent, we
decided that it would be a good idea to go for a little wander, and
ended up having a very nice time indeed in his hotel room before
heading back to rejoin the other guests, trying our best to look
innocent.

But for now I have more essays
to mark on working class life in Britain in the late nineteenth
century. So with a sigh, I push my pleasant thoughts about Edward
to the back of my mind, and get down to some work.

Friday, 24 February

“WELL, IT’S GREAT TO SEE YOU
AGAIN,” says Edward. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Ben
and Angela’s wedding and I’d forgotten how good looking he was. A
little above medium height, he has a long, angular face with high
cheekbones and a shock of very cute blonde hair. His eyes are a
piercing green. He has a nice body, just on the skinny side of
muscular, my type without a shadow of a doubt.

“You too,” I agree. I’ve come to
meet him in a wine bar and although I was on time, he was there
early, waiting for me. That was nice of him – I don’t like to be
hanging around on my own waiting for a date to turn up.

“What are you drinking?”

“Well, the last time I saw you
it was champagne,” I answer with a grin, “but this time I think I
fancy a gin and tonic for a change.”

“Oh, not your usual drink?”

“No, red wine is my usual drink.
How about you?”

“I’m a lager man. But the
question is, what do I fancy this evening?” He has a wicked gleam
in his eye.

“Yes,
what
do
you fancy
this evening?”

“Hmm. I could mention
something... but I’ll stick to drinks. I’ll join you in a gin and
tonic.”

“Ha, here we are in a wine bar
and neither of us is drinking wine.”

He orders our drinks and we take
them over to a small table.

“So, did you have a good time at
the wedding?” he asks, still with that twinkle in his eye.

“I seem to recall I enjoyed
myself quite a lot,” I grin. “Have you seen Ben and Angela’s
honeymoon pictures on Facebook?”

“Yeah, their safari looks
amazing. I think that’s such a great idea, not your usual lying
around on the beach. I’ll have to bear that in mind for the
future.”

“What, for your honeymoon?
You’re planning ahead, aren’t you? You must have years of being
young, free and single before you yet.”

“I guess.” He takes a sip of his
drink. “So how have things been with you since the wedding?”

I tell him about what’s been
going on in my life, omitting any mention of Michael. I’ve already
told Edward about my dating habits and he seems comfortable with
the life I lead, with more than one boyfriend on the go at a time.
But that doesn’t mean I have to tell him every detail of my love
life.

Soon we are laughing and
chatting just like we did at the wedding and I find myself really
enjoying the company of this handsome, interesting, amusing young
man. There’s still a spark there between us. I buy a second round
of drinks and then Edward buys a third, and as the evening goes on
it seems clear where we’re going to end up.

“So,” Edward says, leaning in
close to speak in a low voice, “your place or mine?” He grins.

“You have such a way with words,
Edward. I don’t mind. Where do you want to go?”

“You’re welcome to come round to
mine,” he tells me.

“Well, as it’s Friday
night.”

“What difference does that
make?” he asks.

“Well, imagine if I stay over at
yours on a weeknight and have to turn up to work in these clothes,”
I point out, indicating my nearly see-through blouse and Diesel
jeans. “I’m not sure my colleagues would be very impressed.
Although I’m sure my students would be intrigued at the change in
my appearance. They’d probably guess the reason, and I’d never live
it down.”

“So you’re staying over?” he
asks in mock seriousness. “I just wondered if you wanted a coffee,
that’s all.”

“Oh, fine, coffee’s good, and
then I’ll call a taxi if you like,” I call his bluff breezily. He
takes my hand and squeezes it as we stand up to leave.

“I’ll run you home,” he
promises. “In the morning.”

Edward’s flat is small but
surprisingly chic. It’s spotless – I bet he has a cleaner, I think,
not believing that he would keep it as spick and span as this
without one – and it’s the tidiest place I’ve ever seen. Without
any preamble, he leads me straight to the bedroom where his neatly
made bed awaits us.

“What, no coffee?” I ask
innocently.

“Later,” he growls, and starts
to unbutton my blouse. I bite my lip to stifle a grin and
reciprocate, reaching for his t-shirt and lifting it up. He stops
what he’s doing to help me get him undressed and once his top is
discarded on the floor, I stop to admire the firm muscles of his
chest. Then he’s pushing my blouse away from my shoulders and
pulling it off my arms, flinging it to the ground and attacking the
buckle of the belt holding up my jeans. I help him, pulling off my
jeans and socks and then he does the same.

We’re facing each other in our
underwear now, him in a tight pair of navy blue boxers and me in a
black bra and knickers.

“My God, you’re so gorgeous,” he
says thickly.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I
grin at him.

He pulls me towards him,
gripping my head to pull me into a hard, urgent kiss. His other
hand moves to my breast and pushes inside the cup of my bra. I can
already feel his erection as it strains against the fabric of his
underwear.

I run my hand through the curls
of his chest hair, feeling the taut muscles underneath, and then
let both hands travel down to caress his behind. I can’t resist, I
have to move round to the front to feel that bulging package in his
boxer shorts. “Oh, Edward,” I breathe. “You’re so lovely and hard
for me.”

Then we’re manoeuvring towards
the bed, and I push him down on his back so he’s lying flat, and
straddle him. He makes no attempt to resist. I lean down to kiss
him and he grips my hips. We move together and I can feel his
erection rubbing against my clitoris. I want him badly now as we
kiss deeply and his hands massage my breasts, making the nipples
hard underneath his thumbs. Hurriedly, I move off him and reach
down to pull down my knickers and he follows suit, pulling off his
boxers to free his erection. He reaches over to his bedside table
and I see him pick up a packet of condoms. He takes one out and
quickly rolls it all the way down his length.

“I see you were ready for me,” I
smile, straddling him again.

He reaches out to touch me
between my legs and feels the wetness that’s already there. “You
seem to be ready for me, too,” he breathes, his green eyes bright
with desire.

“I am, Edward.” I start to move
again on top of him, my sex making contact with his shaft now, my
juices spreading along its length as I rub up and down his
erection. My clitoris tingles with the pleasure and I’m gratified
to hear Edward’s answering groan.

“Oh, Justine, I’ve got to be
inside you,” he tells me, taking hold of my hips and positioning me
ready to sink down onto him.

I want him too, badly now, and
as he enters my body I feel a surge of the sweetest sensation. I
moan loudly as I start to move, savouring the feeling of him deep
inside me. I lean back and put my hands on his thighs, stretching
back and arching so that my pleasure is increased as I move, still
slowly and steadily. He starts to touch my wet, sensitive clitoris
with his fingers and I breathe a deep sigh of contentment as I
revel in the delicious feeling.

My pleasure starts to build and
I move faster, up and down on his shaft as he continues to rub my
sensitive little bud. Then I shift my position, leaning forward and
down to kiss him, and he pulls down one of my bra straps with his
free hand to liberate my breast from the cup. He does the same on
the other side and I feel my tingling nipples brush the skin of his
chest, then he kneads my breast with his hand as I increase the
pace, urgency rising.

I sit upright again as I feel
that I’m nearing my climax, closing my eyes and giving myself up to
the delirium of the moment as we move together faster, faster, his
hand still pleasuring me, until at last I cry out loudly, moaning
out the ecstasy of my orgasm as he comes too inside me, groaning my
name and panting until I relax on top of him, spent and damp with
perspiration, sated.

I move off him to lie next to
him, and we move onto our sides to hold each other. He strokes my
hair tenderly. “Happy?” he asks.

“Yes. Very. That was
lovely.”

“Good. Yes, it was.”

“You don’t mind that I messed up
your perfect sheets?”

“I think I can forgive you. As
long as you make the bed afterwards.”

I reach down to give his bottom
a playful whack. “Ow!”

“Don’t give me orders,” I tell
him.

“I’ll remember that, Miss
Dominatrix.”