Professor's Little Pet

I did a little swerve and gave him my whole attention. To each, an equal look. If that's the case, I responded firmly to Professor Bretton, "I know what I want." I was laughing at myself on the inside for trying to elevate this night beyond its mundane nature. Giving it more significance. His brow was lifted as he gave me a curious glance. I wasn't doing what was expected of me. He questioned, "What do you want, pet?" There was no emotion in his voice. I specifically said, "I don't want you to call me pet." You may address me as Chloe. Clearly, I had surprised him. The first thing I saw was the astonishment in his eyes, followed by an expression I couldn't decipher for a split second, and then, eventually, that loathed amusement. His lips twitched as he stared at me, but there was no derision in his eyes this time. As I waited for him to speak, my heart rate increased significantly. 'Chloe,' he said. As the saying goes, "I had a different prize in mind..." He leaned up close to smack my pussy. *** Oren Okay, when she asked me to name her Chloe and I hesitated, I felt a tinge of remorse. I didn't regret letting her con me or laughing at her or even suggesting we see how high we could leap. I didn't feel particularly bad about objectifying her on purpose, but I did feel bad about giving her such a mediocre introduction to BDSM. Of course I recognized her; we'd shared a floor for the last five years. It was common for us to be the only two people on the floor in the early morning hours, when the building is quietest and no one is chatting or making noise. She was the one I'd seen in the break room microwaving water for tea and snacking on a candy bar from the vending machine. On the other hand, I had never really given her much thought. During much of that period, I was in a committed relationship; yes, other women did exist, but they had no sexual allure for me. She was appealing in a soft, subdued manner, but I wasn't interested in her stammering. My initial enjoyment at her genuinely enormous collection of bodice-rippers was soon replaced by anger; I was sick of the Fifty Shades of Grey poseurs who believed they understood what domination and submission was because they had a set of handcuffs and a blindfold. So I pushed, and she reacted in a manner I hadn't anticipated, and I was completely taken aback by my own excitement. Worse worse, I was acting like a complete moron. This was not meant to be the case; rather, the trust one partner offered to another during a session was supposed to be the deepest and most intimate of ties, much more so than that which can be achieved by physical contact. As an aphrodisiac, trust worked wonders. I told myself, "Jenny would kill me right now for being such an asshole." Jennifer Stone is my three year girlfriend and submissive. It had been six months after the separation, and although though it had been the best decision for both of us, the wounds still seemed fresh. Whenever anything has been around for three years, it always left its mark. I expected the customary jolt of agony that came with thinking about Jenny, and it was there, but Chloe's presence in my bed dulled the sting. This was a first; it was unique. To myself I mumbled, "Ok, Bretton, ease off a wee bit, she's really meant to have enjoyment as well," as I lowered my lips from that lovely cunt. *** Chloe: I almost sprung off the bed, keeping myself in place only with a frantic grip on the headboard slats as his tongue kissed a slow line from the bottom of my pussy, all the way up to my clitoris, and he sucked it in. He gave a scolding "tsk, tsk." Remember to remain still, Chloe. I said, "I'm sorry, Professor Bretton." At that moment, I would have said anything to encourage his gradual probing of my pussy. He coaxed me with, "Tell me what you like, Chloe," as his tongue slid in and out of my hot pussy. He grabbed my lips with his hands and pulled them apart, while his lips tugged at my inner lips. "I sighed. Looking at her, he murmured, "Words, Chloe, use your words." "Tell me what you find to be effective." Just good, I let out a sigh of relief. I moaned in pain as his tongue resumed its slow, full-slit licking. I pleaded for them to try harder. That's a nice young lady, he remarked. He ramped up the intensity, pressing his tongue into my pussy and nibbling on my inner lips with his teeth. Hissing, I hissed. 'Too much?' he questioned. I pleaded, "Please," once again. He laughed and did it again; I clinched in reaction, drawing my knees up to my chest automatically as the fire spread through my body. Hardening his tone, he warned Chloe, "Keep your legs open, or I'll tie them down, and spank you hard for my trouble." Fuck. In reaction to his tone, my pussy flooded, and he could tell since his lips was on me. I became a bright shade of scarlet so he'd see how much his roughness aroused in me. As in, "You want to be spanked, Chloe?" inquiringly, he said. This night has just begun. His tongue kept attacking my pussy and clitoris, and then he slid a finger deep and hard into me. When asked, "Please," I pleaded. You can't come until I say so, Chloe. His tone was steady and calm. Yes, Professor Bretton, I moaned, unable to form meaningful words due to my need. There was just no way I could keep it in, no way I could hold back. As his finger slipped inside of me, I murmured, "Please."