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“Yes, Professor.” Her face heated at the words but she felt no shame, she would have said anything at that moment.
His hands tugged at her panties, they came down to her knees and his fingers moved against her clit, pressing that swollen bud and then circling it until she ground her teeth together in an effort to keep from crying out his name.
His fingers withdrew, leaving her empty and aching. His hands slapped against her butt once more, this time his palms landed on bared flesh and pain sprang up but he immediately soothed it away with the caresses that came after the spanking blows.
His fingers moved back to her clit. The panties rubbed against her thighs as she strained to open her legs wider but could not. The panties were as effective a bondage as the rope she wore.
“Remember this lesson,” he said.
“Yes sir,” she managed to say.
His cock was hard, incredibly hard. She could feel the stiff length of him below her belly. She wanted that heavy shaft, wanted him inside of her, to feel him stretching her walls open.
The orgasm was sudden and intense, it left her dangling limp on his lap, her face muscles gone slack and her body relaxed. He chuckled as he helped her to her feet and she stared at him, confused. “Don’t you want…”she let the words trail off.
“Sometimes the best sex is the sex you give to someone else without getting anything in return.” The kiss he bestowed on her mouth after those words was achingly tender and soft. She melted against him, her body still shaking from the aftermath of what had happened.
She had never known any man to be so unselfish when it came to sex. Most of the men she had dated had been dry and terse and brought that same manner to bed with them. None of them had ever given her anything without expecting something in return. She was grateful even as she wondered if she had done something wrong.
She had to ask that question and when she did, he hugged her close, so close she could smell his cologne and a slight tang of sweat, “You could not have done anything more perfectly. Please just take this as a gift and enjoy it.”
She stared at him, grateful and smitten by his charm and he helped her to dress again. They stowed the schoolgirl outfit in a bottom drawer of her desk along with the rope. Sandra devoutly hoped that it would make another reappearance soon and Connor said, “I am taking you to dinner.”
It was not a request and she knew it. What was more, she wanted to go. He placed her hand in the crook of his arm, an old fashioned and courtly gesture that made her feel both fragile and protected all at once. She knew that was silly, she was not small or in need of protection but the feeling remained.
The restaurant that he took her to was the best one in town. Although it was a small town it was overrun with college students, many from abroad, people with discerning palates, and visiting dignitaries and the restaurants reflected all those things.
Sylvia’s boasted an impressive wine cellar, traditional French cuisine that refused to take on any of the ‘fusion’ that other places offered and a very dim and highly romantic setting. The rustic old beams that ran overhead, the dancing flames of the fireplaces and candles, and the cozy high backed booths that screened diners from the view of others all contributed to that ambience.
Connor ordered a Penfold’s Grange and a cheese and fruit plate as an appetizer. The wine alone cost nearly a thousand dollars and Sandra felt a rush of nerves, she had been raised to live plainly, to enjoy the smaller things and she wondered if Connor would find that boring of her.
They began to chat about things to do around the town. Sandra was an avid sailor; her first boat had been a used Laser she had purchased when she was fourteen with her savings from her summer job.
Connor leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes alight with laughter as she haltingly told him about that summer and the endless rounds she had made, knocking on doors of the houses in town, weed eater in hand, asking if she could cut their grass.
“My first job was delivering newspapers. I sucked at it. By the time I was thirteen I had gotten a job caddying at the country club. The tips were usually okay but some of those people were rough to work for.” He said, taking a long sip of the wine.
“I can imagine. I babysat for a little while but after I ended up with five kids who did everything from pouring salt into my tea to gluing the dog’s butt to a chair one afternoon I decided that was not for me.”
“Did that turn you off kids forever?”
“No, not at all. It did make me appreciate the power of exorcisms though.”
His laughter rang out. She watched him laugh, the way his head tipped back and the flash of his strong teeth between his sensual lips and her heart began to pound. She cautioned herself to slow down. Falling for this guy was a big mistake and not one she could afford to make.
“I assume it also made you appreciate your sailboat more.”
“I learned to sail on my own so having to swim back to my capsized boat a few times and try again gave me a good appreciation for it.”
“You taught yourself to sail?” His stare was frankly admiring and astonished. “How?”
“Oh I had a book.”
Connor choked on a swallow of the rich and ripe wine. He believed her, without a doubt. Awe crept in. “Why did you not just get lessons?”
“My father believes that if it is truly something you care about you will put forth the effort to master it.”
If there was rancor in her voice, he did not hear it. He had met her father at a small faculty party a few days before, the man was as dry as sand. He could not imagine what it must have been like growing up with him. Their food came, forestalling any further conversation on that subject and they dug in appreciatively.
