HisIndecentBoxSetpub (7 page)

I took a deep breath
as I killed the engine, looking over at the house. Somewhere inside,
Damien Reed was waiting to give me lessons on sexual nature and
fantasy, whatever that meant. I imagined him walking out of the house
shirtless, and my loins ached with need. Such a sexual deviant, I
was. Or, at least, my mind liked to pretend I was. In reality, I was
a virgin, and my sexual experience was minimal. Still, my brain spent
most of its time in the gutter, fabricating erotic fantasies, most of
which involved Damien as of late. He had become a sort of obsession
for me, a fetish that replayed in my mind every night when I
pleasured myself before bed. It was hard to believe that my fantasies
were about to be made flesh.

“
Just
breathe,” I told myself as I opened the door and stepped out of
my car, wondering if I had overdressed for the occasion. To be
honest, my weekend wardrobe wasn't much different from school days. I
wore pencil skirts or ankle length skirts on most days, coupled with
a blouse that covered my entire chest. My clothes were form fitting,
but far from seductive.

Once I reached the
doorstep, I straightened out the wrinkles in my skirt. Naturally, I
wanted to look perfect for Damien. I had even taken extra time on my
hair and makeup, though I doubted he'd notice. Men weren't the most
observant creatures.

I raised my hand to
ring the doorbell and then waited until I heard footsteps on the
other side. My heart drummed in my chest as the door handle began to
turn. This was it. There was no going back now.

Apparently, I wasn't
the only one who didn't vary my wardrobe much between weekends and
weekdays. Damien was rocking his typical tight-fitting jeans and
T-shirt, making my imagination run rampant with thoughts of what was
underneath them. I had already seen his impressive cock, but the rest
of his naked body remained a mystery to me—a mystery I hoped
would soon be discovered.

“
Come on in,”
he said, stepping aside without so much as a smile.

“
This is a
nice place.” I gazed around the interior of the house, which
was every bit as expansive as the outside made it seem. Like Damien's
desk at the college, the house was absolutely immaculate, with
everything in its place. You'd never know that a bachelor lived
there.

“
This place is
a lot bigger than I would think someone can afford on a teacher's
salary,” I noted, following him into the living room.

“
Well, it
wasn't entirely bought on my salary, to be honest. I made a sizable
amount of money when the stock market crashed. While other people
were busy trying to get out, I was putting money in. After the stock
market recovered, I cashed out about half of my investments and
bought this place,” he told me.

Definitely, a smart
man.

Damien sat me down
and offered to get me a drink. While he went to retrieve it, I took
some time to look around. His home décor was very
contemporary, with lots of angles and neutral tones. There wasn't a
whole lot of art, but the few paintings I did see were all abstract.
The house didn't have a very lived in look, to be honest. More like
something out of the pages of an interior design magazine.

When he returned, I
thanked him for the water he brought me. He sat a few feet away on
the large sectional sofa, angling his legs to face me and pulling a
piece of paper from his pocket, which I quickly realized was the
questionnaire he had me fill out in agreement to taking his lessons.

“
I
want to take some time to go over this first and get to know each
other a little better before we begin. During this time, you can ask
me any questions you might have,” he said. When I didn't
respond, he continued, “You have pretty much no sexual
experience, right?”

“
Mhm.”

“
How
old are you?”

“
Eighteen.”

“
Eighteen,”
he repeated the word with distaste, his expression sulking into
disappointment.

“
Is
there something wrong?”

“
I
thought you were older.”

“
How
old did you think I was?” I cocked an eyebrow. It wasn't often
I was mistaken for older than I actually was. Usually, people thought
I was younger by a few years.

“
I
thought you were at least in your early twenties.”

“
Oh.
Well, is my age going to be a problem?”

He sighed. “No.
You're already here, so I'm not going to rescind my offer. Had I
known how young you are though, I never would have considered it.”

That stung a bit,
and somehow felt like a rejection yet again. If he didn't feel
comfortable doing this, then maybe it wasn't worth doing. I thought
about telling him that, but I couldn't bear the thought of losing my
second chance with him. My stupid mouth already screwed things up
once. If he truly didn't want me, or this, then he would have to turn
me away. Blatantly. I would not be leaving otherwise.

“
How
old are you?” I asked.

“
I'm
thirty-one. I'm sure you can understand why this makes me
uncomfortable. If my age makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to do
this,” he told me, sounding a bit too hopeful for my taste.
There was no way I was going to let him go again though.

“
No.
I'm already here. You're a great Art Appreciation teacher. I'm sure
you'll be good at teaching . . . other things.”

“
Art
Appreciation is an easy class to teach. Sex subjects are a bit more
intense and intimate,” he said, still staring at my
questionnaire as if he was afraid to look at me.

I wasn't sure what
to say, so I didn't say anything.

He took a deep
breath before continuing, “You seem like you're pretty
open-minded towards learning just about anything. Your hard limits
are very basic. Is there anything else you aren't willing to do?”

“
Hard
limits?”

“
It's
what they're called in the BDSM world. Basically, things you won't do
no matter what. If I get into teaching you about BDSM, I'll cover the
subject more thoroughly. That's a more advanced class though. It's
not incredibly important for you to know about it now. We're going to
take things very very slow, considering that you've never had sex
before.”

“
Oh.”

The way he sounded
so put together sent a blush to my cheeks. It was as if talking about
sex was just a normal everyday subject for him. He was Professor
Damien Reed, no different than he was in the classroom, confident and
professional. I, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck inside. Every
time he said the word 'sex', the butterflies in my stomach would take
flight, flapping around wildly. There were sensations in other places
too, but I tried to ignore those, for the most part. Those yearnings
would be taken care of soon enough, I hoped.

“
So,
anymore hard limits?” he asked.

I suddenly felt
confused. “I don't think so. Could you give me some examples of
what other peoples' hard limits are?”

“
Well,
a lot of people don't like pain. They might be against being whipped
or paddled.”

The thought of being
paddled sent an aching need straight to my pussy. I had never met
anyone who would be willing to do it. All of my past boyfriends were
strictly vanilla. Or so I had assumed, considering I hadn't slept
with any of them. Damien seemed like a kinky freak by comparison.
Then again, he was a lot older, a lot more mature, and he taught this
strange sex class.

I shrugged before
saying, “I'll try almost anything once.”

“
Except
anal sex,” he noted.

“
Yes.
Except anal sex.” I nodded.

“
What
do you have against anal sex?”

I felt embarrassed
to say it, but I couldn't come up with a good enough lie that didn't
sound stupid. “I think it's mostly for gay men.”

He let out a short
laugh. “Anal sex is not just for gay men.”

“
I
still don't think I'd want to try it. It sounds kind of gross to me.”

The grin stayed on
his face. “Okay then. Well, that pretty much covers everything,
except that you left the ultimate sexual fantasy question blank.”

“
I
wasn't sure if you meant a realistic fantasy or one of those
fantasies you have that you'd never actually live out.”

“
It
doesn't really matter. I just ask this question, so I can get a
better idea of what you're actually into, or perhaps the things that
you'd like to try.”

A blush came to my
cheeks as I opened my mouth to speak. “Well, I kind of would
like to be spanked.”

I expected him to
say that my fantasy was tame, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he
pulled a pen out of his pocket and filled in the blank spot on my
questionnaire.

“
Anything
else?” he asked.

“
No.”
I shook my head.

“
Alright.
Well, I'm sure you'll come up with more as we progress through our
lessons. These classes are very much about sexual awakening, figuring
out what you like and don't like.”

That sounded
absolutely blissful. Anything that Damien did to me, I would probably
like . . . a lot.

“
How
many other students do you have?” I inquired, and then wanted
to slap myself for it, knowing the answer would depress me.

“
Just
you, for right now.”

Relief
flooded through me.
He's mine. All mine. At least, for now.
The thought gave me a strange sense
of satisfaction. Part of me wanted to ask him if he had a girlfriend,
but I didn't want to press my luck. I would hold onto the fantasy
that he belonged to me exclusively, for as long as I could.

“
Do
you have any other questions for me?” He set the questionnaire
down on the table and relaxed back into the couch, crossing his ankle
on top of his knee.

“
No.
I don't think so.”

It felt so strange
having his complete attention. I wanted to look at him, but I
couldn't, knowing I'd meet those deep dark eyes. They always seemed
like they were burning right into me, making me feel exposed and
vulnerable. I loved that about him, but I also hated it.

“
Tell
me about yourself,” he said.

“
What
do you want to know?”

“
Anything
you want to tell me. Perhaps you could start with letting me know a
little about how life was for you growing up. How was your family
dynamic? Did you suffer any traumas in the past?”

“
No.
No traumas.” I shook my head, leaning back against the sofa and
trying to relax. “I suppose my childhood was fairly normal. My
parents stayed together until I started high school. When they got
divorced, I ended up living with my mother. My father is a truck
driver, so I couldn't really stay with him.”

“
So,
you live with your mother right now?”

“
No.
I recently moved in with my father since he lives close to campus.
He's rarely at home though, so I have the house to myself most of the
time.”

“
And
siblings? Do you have any?”

“
No.
It's just me.”

“
I
see.”

I half expected him
to ask if I liked being an only child. It seemed to be the standard
question as soon as I told people I was one. Damien didn't seem
interested beyond that point though. He just sat there, looking at
me, making me feel a bit uncomfortable.

“
And
you?” I asked. “What about your family?”

“
Nothing
out of the ordinary. My parents are still married, though they're
living in Washington right now. My father is a politician. My mother
is a house wife. She was a stay at home mom for me and my brother
when we were growing up.”