Surrender

ch 28 Surrender april 10 2019

Surrender

Being Thalia

Chapter 28

By devikafernando and avenger-nerd-mom

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is growing up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job in Madrid as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Images found on Pinterest

Word Count: 2875

Summary: Surprises aren’t over for Thalia yet, as Tom takes their relationship another step further.

Previous Chapter, Not Yet

Tom blinks his eyes open, needing a moment to orient himself. He’s lying on his back next to Thalia, an arm flung out across her heaving body, his barely opened pants digging into him uncomfortably. With a contented sigh, he shifts so he can glance at his lady love, all sprawled out and covered in a fine sheen on sweat that makes her curvy limbs glow in the combination of illumination and moonlight. He wants to lick her skin, sink his teeth into the plump flesh and claim what’s finally his again. But first, breathing properly would be nice.

“Need a moment,” comes Thalia’s murmur as she cracks open a lid to squint at him.

“Yup, me too,” he admits, groaning a bit when his body wakes back to life and he wishes he was ten years younger. Resigned, he half-climbs over her to stand and wriggle out of his rumpled clothes.

One-eyed, she watches him, a hand idly stroking her belly in a move she likely isn’t aware of. Looking for a place to set down his clothes, Tom discovers a wooden rack to one wall. His gaze lands on her pretty scarf, the one he gifted her as a thanks for the tour at the museum, two months ago. He runs his fingers over the soft fabric, inhaling her scent. Rustling alerts him to Thalia stretching languidly and sitting up to fluff at her tangled curls. She’s the embodiment of a thoroughly fucked woman, and somehow that only serves to arouse him anew.

“God, it’s a miracle I can move,” she mumbles. “I feel as if all my limbs have liquefied. As if I’m floating. Right now, you could probably make me do anything and I’d just mindlessly comply.”

Tom’s brows shoot up at that admission, and suddenly he has an idea.

“Is that so?” Making his decision, he grabs the scarf, running it between his hands and waiting until Thalia’s eyes pick up the motion.

“Mhm.”

“Well, then I intend to take full advantage of that. Who knows when I’ll ever have you so pliant again?”

She chuckles, mumbling in a half-daze, “That’s probably true.”

He steps close, runs his free hand down her neck, shoulder and arm, tangles his fingers with hers. She lets him, as malleable as she just claimed. With a secretive grin, Tom sits next to her and drops a kiss to her clavicle. Then he pulls at their linked fingers and moves her arm behind her back, changing his position so he’s half behind her.

“You are becoming entirely too bratty, Miss Bareo,” he intones in the sternest voice he can manage with half his brain cells still in post-coital bliss. “Mouthing off and disobeying my orders and trying to flip the tables.” He tuts, using her moment of surprise to drop the scarf onto the bed and grab her other hand. Once he’s moved that arm behind her back too, he shackles both wrists in his large hand, squeezing firm enough to make her jerk.

“Tom? What are you on about?” Her voice sounds less hazy now.

Leaning forward, he buries his face in her hair and inhales, flooding himself with the mingled fragrances of her shampoo, vestiges of salt water from a dip in the ocean, arousal and her own unique smell. Then he kisses her shoulder, drags his teeth across the skin.

“I’m going to do what I should’ve done some time ago. Reacquaint you with how lovely it can be to submit to me, surrender control.”

He grasps the scarf again, loops it suggestively over her wrist without actually tying her yet. Thalia stiffens, attempts to turn her head and get a good look at him through her riotous curls.

“Tom, I’m not the girl I used to be. I’m not at your beck and call anymore, or at anyone else’s. True submission…it just doesn’t come that easy to me now.”

“I know.” He soothes her with another kiss, a nuzzle, caressing her with the fabric before looping it around her wrists once more, still not pulling tight. “But I also know that you’re no ordinary woman. You’re not black or white, good or bad, sub or domme. Like me, you are all of that and more, can be anything and anyone you want when it comes to such matters. And darling,” he adds, his voice now a purr of dirty promise, “I’m your lover, your man. I deserve the chance to cater to your every need. And I can sense that deep down, this IS what you need. Let go, for tonight. Let me care for you this way and gift me with your trust.”

He can feel some of the stiffness melt out of her, then hears her long exhale, almost a sigh of surrender. “We’ll give it a try,” she says at last, and he smiles widely against her damp skin. Kissing her again, he opens his mouth and sucks to mark her. He can feel her squirm but she doesn’t move away.

Slowly, he tightens the loops, then uses the scarf to thoroughly bind her hands. Slipping a finger beneath the fabric, he checks to make sure her circulation isn’t cut off. Then he rubs his hands up and down her arms, satisfaction making him hum low in his throat when it raises goose bumps.

His gaze lands on the mirror opposite the bed and he has another idea when a memory resurfaces. Using his strength to his advantage, he moves Thalia up onto her knees so she’s now positioned with her body facing the rectangle of reflective glass.

“Stay like this. Don’t move.” He uses his dominant voice, pleased when she doesn’t sass him.

Although he doesn’t want to leave the tied, tempting woman in the bed, he makes himself get up and pad across the room. Hitting all the light switches, he watches as everything becomes more visible and hears her gasp when she sees herself in the mirror. It is indeed a sight worth of gasps, and he can feel himself harden. With her arms tied, her bountiful breasts are pushed up and out, begging to be loved by him.

“I’d love to blindfold you, make your submission complete,” he says as he walks back and clambers onto the mattress. “But not this time. Tonight, you’ll watch. And you’ll see how stunning you are when you let yourself go.”

When her breath hitches, but he doesn’t get a ‘yes’ for an answer, he leans in closer, embracing her. Skin to skin, simply breathing together for a few moments. He slides one hand higher and rests it on her breastbone, he can feel her heart beat faster.

“Thalia, giving in now, to me, like this, doesn’t mean you’re taking a step back. I know you’ve earned your freedom and the right to be your own boss. I know how strong you are–how could I not? And I admire that strength, that stubborn streak, that oh-so sexy sass. You’re way too intelligent and self-aware to think that submitting is a sign of weakness. So why the hesitation?”

He feels her collect herself, her fingers unclenching so that they brush against his stomach.

“I don’t know. You’re right. It’s just…I haven’t done this in quite a while. My body hasn’t forgotten how much I loved this. If you touched me, you’d find me wet. But…it’s my head that doesn’t want to catch up.”

Tom grasps her chin and turns her head, meeting her gaze. “Then let me silence those voices in your head. Hand it all over. I know what to do with it, with you. I can make it so you don’t have to think, to decide, to control. You think too much. Let me take care of you, do this for you.”

After a few seconds, she nods. “Yes. Please.”

It’s all the permission he needs. Sealing the deal with a kiss that starts out gentle and loving only to morph into fiercely possessive heat, he changes position.

“Watch. Watch and relax, let me take care of you.”

Making sure that she won’t lose her balance in her tied state, he spreads her thighs, shifts her up some so that she can dig her fingers into a pillow if she wants to. Then he stretches out on his stomach in front of her, sending a smoldering glance up.

“You can be as loud as you want. No one can hear us here. But you don’t get to say what I do. Let go, and keep watching.”

Not waiting for a reaction because he expects her to obey his command, Tom dips his head. He strokes his mouth over every inch of her inner thigh, using his teeth and tongue and lips to seduce her right out of her skin. Then he repeats the same on her other thigh, before he finally gives her an open-mouthed kiss on her glistening pussy. Thalia moans, and he snaps his eyes up to make sure she’s still looking. She is, and it doesn’t surprise him. He remembers how years ago, they discussed kinks and she showed such an interest in people who have a fetish for sex in front of a mirror.

Giving it his all, Tom shifts his weight onto one elbow so he can use his other hand. He slides a finger inside as he continues to lick and suck on her swollen clit, and Thalia’s moans turn into something more animalistic, uninhibited. Her body half bows back, her fingers clawing at the pillow as she struggles to keep her balance, as she battles with the need to tug his head closer. When she comes at last, it’s on a wordless scream that will haunt his memories. He continues to lap up her offering, then scrambles to his knees to wipe her juices off his mouth and beard. With a hand at the nape of her neck, he brings her in for a kiss and breathes with her, for her.

“Was that so difficult?” he asks softly after he’s broken the kiss, doing his best to ignore his rock-hard cock wanting attention. Thalia shakes her head, hair flying everywhere. With a satisfied smirk, Tom brushes his nose against hers. “Good. And remember, we have a deal: you can make me submit some day in the future.”

Before she can react to that, he rises and sits down behind her to untie her. With soothing rubs, he helps her get feeling back into her arms, then kisses each of her fingertips.

“Do you think you can put weight on your arms or do you need some more time?” he asks, care taking over for a moment so that he doesn’t just order her.

“Yes.”

“Perfect. On your hands and knees, Miss Bareo. I’m not nearly done with you yet and you’ve got some more watching to do.” The commanding tone is back and she reacts on instinct even though he bets her body is now even more languid than after the first orgasm.

“Fuck, how I love this view,” he mutters to himself when she gets into position. Raising his arm, he lets his palm smack into one glorious ass cheek, watching it jiggle as she sucks in her breath on a hiss. Tom spanks the other cheek too before palming the globes and stroking away the sting. On an impulse, he leans down and runs his tongue down between the rounded cheeks, remembering something else she’s told him. When he circles her most secret place, Thalia curses a blue streak, pushing back at him.

“Stay still,” he snaps, and to her credit, she freezes immediately after clenching her hands in the sheets.

ch 28 gif

“Good girl.” As a reward, he gives her another thorough, probing lick that has her whimpering. “Oh, the things I could do to you…” He sighs out, longing. Then he glides his fingers through her slick folds and strokes his cock. Once, twice…he can’t stand more or he’ll explode too soon.

“I’m going to take you now,” he whispers harshly, emphasizing the promise with a nip to the nape of her neck that sends a shiver down her spine. “And if you move even once to control the speed or depth, I swear I’ll stop. I’ll just get myself off and make you watch instead. Understood?”

“Yes-yes-yes.” It’s a breathless litany, a tad too impatient to sound actually submissive. But it’ll have to do because if he can’t bury himself inside his love right this very moment, he’ll surely die.

And so he grabs her hips and angles himself just so, thrusting home with one drawn-out stroke that has both of them groaning in unison. Once he’s nestled so deep he doesn’t know where she ends and he begins, Tom slips a hand up and over her back. He presses down firmly enough for Thalia to get the signal to lower her torso until she’s barely leaning on her elbows. Then he wraps his hand around her throat, finger by finger so she’s hyper-aware of it. Will she let him get this far? Even with her past and with so much time between her last submission? Tom waits with bated breath, not moving inside her even though it’s torture. He doesn’t squeeze, simply keeps his fingers loosely collared around her neck until she’s taken two shaky breaths and remains perfectly still.

“Thalia, oh Thalia. My love. My perfect one. So strong. So fucking strong.” With a reverent whisper, he removes his hand. Bracing it beside her shoulder on the bed, he pulls almost all the way out of her before beginning to thrust in earnest. His body is half folded across hers as he sets up a punishing pace because he knows he won’t last long.

tom

When she flutters and clenches around him, her voice rising, Tom slows for a moment. He loops an arm around her upper body and tugs her up so she’s all but sitting on his lap, on her knees in front of him.

“Look,” he gasps out, then grinds his teeth against his impending climax. “Look how well I can take care of you when you let me.” Sliding his hand down, he molds one of her bouncing boobs and pinches the peaked nipple between his fingers as her pussy clenches and grips him like a vice. “Now don’t you dare take your eyes off us.”

He sneaks his other hand from her ample waist between her legs, watching her as she in turn watches him in the mirror while he circles her clit and fucks into her from behind. And then his orgasm hits him so hard he sees only blinding white. This time, he’s the one screaming, and then he can feel Thalia come right with him with a choked sound that’s almost a sob.

Limp in his arms, he topples her over, landing on his back. Still hard, he thrusts into her again, from below. She whimpers, the sound slightly painful. Rolling Thalia to her side, he slides from her warmth, already wanting to go again. The sheen of sweat on her shoulder calls to him and he rolls closer, flicking his tongue over her warm, soft skin.

She grabs his hand, tucking it between her breasts, more sweat between the sweet valley. She wiggles her legs, getting comfortable, hitting against his solid thighs. He slides his leg between hers and pulls her close. Tom swears he can hear her purr, but he bites back the laughter that wells up deep in his chest.

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“Permission to speak, Sir?”

Even without seeing her face, he can hear the mirth, the pleasure in her voice.

“Granted,” he replies, trying to keep serious.

Extracting herself from his grasp, she rolls over, tangled in the sheets, to face him.

Her eyes search his face, her hand caressing his scruffy cheek. “I’m not an innocent girl anymore, I don’t know that I ever was-” She lays a finger across his lips when he begins to protest. “I’m hard-headed, hard to handle, and full of fire. You’ve always known that… Only two people I’ve loved ever knew how to deal with me. Three, I guess. Dad, too. He encouraged me to sass back.” She chuckles. “Didn’t want me to be weak, like his sisters. Wanted me to be strong enough, so I wouldn’t end up like my mother.”

Thalia reaches for his hand on her hip and brings it to her lips, kissing it tenderly. “It’s difficult for me to let my mind go, to let someone else be in control. But you’ve always known that too.” She lowers their hands, pressing them against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “It’s not weakness, I have to keep telling myself that. It’s trust. Trust that I know you’ll always care for me. Strength. Strength to know when I need to let go and let someone else take care of me.”

“Oh, sweet Thalia,” Tom sighs, reaching to wipe the tears falling from her eyes. “You’re so strong. You always have been, but you don’t have to be strong all the time. Lean on me. Lean on me, love.”

Click here to read Chapter 29, Déjà Vu

Copyright © 2019 avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Private Dancer

private dancer june 5 2018.jpg

Private Dancer

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris has a late night encounter

Warnings: NSFW, public nudity, dom/sub tendencies, anal fingering, denied orgasm, talk of bondage

Word Count: 3884

July 2018

Head back against the wall,Chris slouches in the old metal chair, too tired and achy to move. He waves goodbye to the others, leaving for the night, and swipes his hand out to the side, hoping his grasp will reach the water bottle in the chair next to him.

“Go home, man, it’s enough for one day,” a voice calls out.

“Yea, yea, I know,” he guffaws, the tiredness seeped in his vocal chords. “I might run through it again.”

The bottle pressed to his lips, the water is cool as it runs down the back of his throat, refreshing. Just when he thinks he can’t take the heat, the air conditioning in the worn down building kicks on, causing the windows to rattle. He takes another swallow, running the back of his arm across his forehead, chilling his skin as the sweat collects in the hairs on his arms.

“Too fuckin’ old for this, Evans,” he mutters to himself.

He downs the rest of the water quickly, grunting in pain as he leans forward to untie his shoes. He lazily pulls one off and it clunks to the scuffed floors. The lights click off overhead and he calls out, “Hey! I’m still in here!”

Static screeches through the stereo system and a familiar guitar riff fills the room. A spot light shines down from above on a form in the center of the room, a curvy figure outlined in the shadows as her hips sway to the first beat. He bites back a smile as her heels click on the floor, executing a perfect spin before falling to her knees, crawling towards him. On the prowl, she keeps to the cadence of the song, a seductress he’s never seen before.

Her stance wide, hips sashaying from side to side, she taps the rhythm and stomps in perfect syncopation. A halo of curls swirl around her, a wave of red, blazing fire, hiding her face. Unable to see her expressions, he wants to watch her feet, the sound clear and crisp, in strict, guarded movements. But his eyes are drawn to the sweet jiggle of her ass in the high cut booty shorts and her strained nipples against the tight t-shirt, cut and knotted between her firm breasts. Her hands run over her body, wanting and needing, the music pulsing through her, creating a heated sexual energy in the room.

Every move is practiced and fluid, almost effortless. Yet even in the cold room, he can see sweat collecting on her lower back, at the waist of the form fitting shorts. She’s working hard, and has his attention. Resting back in the chair, he palms over his hardening cock, turned on by this show, just for him. His private dancer.

He aches to touch her. Realizing he can glimpse her backside in the mirror behind her, he enjoys fruitfully all the bouncing muscles rolling under the athletic strain of her performance. As she stomps, reaching forward gracefully, he wonders how he hadn’t noticed the cane on the floor before. The way she grips the core causes him to groan quietly, shifting uncomfortably now in his seat. His tired aches are forgotten as she crawls across the floor some more, sliding along on knee pads. With a final click of the long staff against the hardwood floor, the music ends as mysteriously as it began.

He jumps from his seat, in wild applause as she stays bowed before him, breathing heavily and slightly panting. Padding forward in his socks, he swoops his hand under her waist and swings her up to her feet. Still hidden under the mass of hair, he pushes it back from her face, her blue eyes shining bright. “Holy fuck, that was awesome! The sexiest thing I’ve ever-”

Her mouth closes over his, swallowing his words, a hard, forced kiss, teeth gnashing against teeth. His arms pull her tight, his body flush against hers. Heat. Adrenaline. Pure sex appeal. His hands roam over her lusty ass, down the backs of her thighs as he tries to get closer, to crawl into her as she pulls and tugs his plump lips between her teeth, her tongue diving into the far reaches of his mouth. Clawing at his hair, holding him close, her leg slides up his, wrapping behind his thigh, holding him even closer. His hard cock twitches, grinding against her barely clothed body.

With a satiated sigh, she pulls away, an almost shy smile creeping across her face. “Fuck, that was sexy,” she whispers.

Her throaty twang reaches to his dick, causing another jerk, pushing into her. Holding her ass closely, his hands creep under the fabric cupping her rounded cheeks. She’s so wet, already primed. He begins to lower his wife to the hardwood floor, ready to take her here and now.

“Evans, you aren’t doing me on the hardwood floor,” Emery laughs, fighting against him to remain standing.

He looks around quickly. “There’s dance mats.”

In a quick spin, she extricates herself from his hold, “There’s also three cameras from different angles filming the dance, and your reaction.”

He grabs her hand, spinning her close to him, sliding his hand from her knee up her thigh, gripping her waist as he thrusts against her. “This is my reaction.”

“I know; I saw,” she giggles. “Thank god you didn’t whip it out and keep stroking.”

Chris looks around, seeing for the first time the tiny red glow from a camera light. “Let’s just turn off the damn cameras?”

“How about we drag our achy, sore bodies to the hotel room I booked across the street?”

“You did not?” He incredulously intones.

“I did too,” she smiles wildly, gliding and tapping away from him, just out of his reach. She runs around, turning off the cameras and tucking them under her arms while he puts his street shoes on. “Shontae just said to lock up. She’ll be back in an hour or so to close up for the night.”

He takes the cameras from her hands, catching her fingers in his grasp and brushing his thumb over her sparkling wedding ring. “Shontae. She helped throw this together? I didn’t know you could still tap.” He remembers now pictures around her parents’ home of various dance recitals and years as a cheerleader. He chuckles as she lowers herself into the metal chair. “All the bruises, and aching muscles? That wasn’t from working out with Don at Drive495?” He’d hated knowing while he was running scripts and warming up for evenings on Broadway, that she was often getting in afternoon workouts with his pal, Sebastian Stan. He didn’t care she’d lost fifteen pounds, and enjoyed the routine. Jealousies run deep…

“Oh, no, I was still working out with Don and Seb,” she replies, running her hands down her sculpted abs, “but Shontea came into the city once a week to meet me at a studio, and she and another trainer worked with me to get this little surprise ready for you.” She lazily points to a bag in the corner while sliding off the knee pads. “Can you bring me my shoes? I’ll walk across the street dressed like a hooker, but I’m not ruining my taps.”

She hugs the heels to her chest and he chuckles, scooting his feet across the floor to get her bag. He groans, reaching to pick it up. Crossing the room again, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to pull his tired, pained body up out of the chair if he sits again, so he leans against the wall, watching her slide on a pair of athletic sandals. “How long you been working on this surprise?”

Her brow furrows, as she presses her hands to her thighs, pushing herself to stand up. She winces. From her bag, she pulls out a water bottle and aspirin, offering him some as well.

“Last fall? When you started dancing again? After some classes last fall in Atlanta, I realized my body could do it, so I came up with this crazy plan last December.” She tilts her head back, swallowing the little pills, massaging the nape of her neck. She raises her eyebrow. “The room has a giant jet tub…” Changing back to the subject of dance, she continues. “I thought it would be a fun surprise. Give me something to do while we were in New York…” her voice trails off as she places her hand in his.

He throws her bag over his shoulder, leading her to the door. Pulling it closed, he makes sure it locks and they slowly walk down the stairs to the street below, each hiding the muffled “ooffs” of muscle aches and pains. “Too damn old,” he whispers again.

“Speak for yourself, I’m in my prime,” she chuckles, nearly stumbling into him when he stops on the step.

“You just keep getting better with age,” Chris admits, throwing his arm around her neck as they step out of the building, onto the sidewalk. “You really do look like a hooker, very Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman.”

“Thanks,” she says, tucking into his side and looking down the walk for observers. With a quick kiss on his lips, she shakes out her hair, untamed and free. No cars coming, they jog across the road quickly. “This place is probably used to it,” she chuckles, pulling open the door to the older city hotel.

“Right? It would be my luck to get caught by a photographer right about now, though. Hidden on a back page in the Boston Herald… ‘Hometown Hero Up to Old Tricks.’” He laughs, following her through the lobby, just a step behind to watch her ass. The clerk nods, a blush reaching the younger man’s cheeks. Chris tries his best to hide his scowl. Jealousies run deep…

“Caught with hookers here before, honey?” She teases, shaking her head disapprovingly at him. Goosing her as they wait for the elevator to arrive, she turns away from him, shaking her head and pushing away his hands.

“Not hookers, but…” He decides it’s best to let the sentence trail of when she raises her eyebrow higher than he thought humanly possible.

When the box opens, he advances towards her and she gracefully steps back. It clicks in his head she’d been carrying herself well, proud and confident, for the last few months. Finally growing into the role as a celebrity icon herself. Working out and dancing had been good for her, primal and empowering. The doors close and he pushes her against the wall. Rolling her eyes, she reaches around him, and punches in the number for the top floor. With her back to the wall, his hands grip her waist, his thumb caressing over her exposed belly button. He delights in the catch of her breath, the tiny goosebumps that bubble across her skin. Looking down on her petite, svelte figure, he beams with pride. “What is this anyway?” he teases, his hands ghosting up her muscled form, tugging at the knotted fabric between her breasts.

Her eyes drop to his hands, and he fumbles momentarily before the fabric falls free, exposing her breasts. Keeping her blocked from any surveillance, his hands cup the heavy globes, squeezing the warm flesh, feeling her nipples pebble under the caress of his palms.

“You better fuck me good tonight, Evans,” she warns, her voice heavy and rich.

The door buzzes and opens. She tugs the fabric together, clutching it to her chest, barely covering herself and walks around him.

He covers his face in his hands, chuckling, running out of the elevator to follow her down the hall. “You say that like you’ve been disappointed lately-”

She turns to him, dropping her hands, the ripped t-shirt falling open, only covering one of her breasts as the other half falls to her side. “Let’s just say we’ve both been too tired, and focused on the wrong things.”

“Ouch,” he whispers seeing a quick blaze of anger behind her eyes. He steps in front of her, hoping to keep his prize from view on security cams.

From a pocket on her bag, she pulls out a room key and slides it over the keypad, gaining access to the room. Blocking the door, her hand snakes out and grabs his belt buckle. “When we step through this door, for tonight, I want all this boring, ‘married life,’ ‘day to day’ chat to stop. I just wanna fuck, and forget the world tonight.”

Her eyes darken and her features are harsh under the poor lighting. Red curls billow around her angel face and she’s so beautiful, his love for her grows a bit more. In his silence, entranced by her prowess, she has begun to loosen his belt, slowly pulling it from the loops.  Visions and memories flood his mind, and he profoundly hears her words. With a moment’s hesitation, he bows his head, making a fast decision, her song choice still rolling through his head. He places his hand firmly around her wrist, stopping the tug of his belt. “Then I’ll damn well take care of my Kitten, my bride, no complaints?”

Emery’s hands drop to her side. Her smile grows, understanding his unspoken words. “Don’t get too carried away. Remember to strip me before you tie me up with that thing.” She smirks. “Unlike last time,” she murmurs under her breath.

Already challenging his authority. He grins, choking back his sigh. She’s too damn hard headed to really play his games, but they have their own fun. A freedom he’d never had before. Love and trust. The true key to happiness. Feeling his need rise, an inner beast raging inside him, he can’t remember the last time they truly had time to play.

Reading his mind, she whispers, “No one else is on this floor tonight, and we have late check out tomorrow. Now cut the bullshit, Evans. It’s like you’re stalling,” she taunts.

Reaching his hand over her shoulder, his eyes grow dark in an instant as a memory of her tied up once before skates through his thoughts. His fist pushes the door open. He steps towards her and she doesn’t budge. Testing him. “In. Strip. Slowly.”

He watches her entire presence change. She softens, ready to have her needs met at his command. She dutifully turns, her hips swishing from side to side, dropping the cut t-shirt to the floor as she strolls in. Chris flicks on the light switch, and two dim lamps in the room react, setting a mood. She doesn’t turn to look at him as she slides out of her sandals, leaving them beside the bed. He swipes his phone screen, calling up some music, her dance song of choice filling the air. The little shorts barely cover her ass, having ridden up between her cheeks as they ran across from the studio. As he watches her roll the second-skin fabric over her hips and down her legs, he undresses quickly as well. He can see she’s already wet, the clothing having been pressed into her sex. Faint tan lines mark across her back from different pool outings with all their nieces and nephews and trips to Georgia, to the lake house. He tries not to laugh at her white ass, blindingly pale, compared to the light tan.

“I’m still more tan than you,” she says quietly.

“How the fuck do you do that?” He asks, walking up to her quietly and running his hand down her spine. Her shoulders quake as a shiver runs over her. “Know my thoughts?”

“Magic.”

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘magic,’” he replies. “Bend over.” His hand presses against her back as she complies. “Rest your palms on the bed…. Beautiful. So beautiful.”

Her deep breathing fills his ears, tuned into her, the music merely to keep outside sounds filtered. Looping the belt together, he drags the worn leather over her alabaster skin. He can hear her exhale, and he repeats the path before drawing it in circles over her canvas. In his mind’s eye he sees the outcome, splattering his cum all over her backside. Tonight is raw, animalistic… He pushes the thoughts of creating a baby from his mind, wanting to see his seed wasted instead. When your wife says she wants to get fucked, and hands over the reins, you can do what you want. Chris grins at the thought. Tonight’s gonna be fun.

Admiring her ass, her taut skin, her legs pressed together. A small bruise on the back of her thigh, probably from a fall during a dance rehearsal. He can’t believe she’d been practicing for months, and he hadn’t even known. He’d believed her tales, slipping on ice on the subway steps, bumping into a desk at work. Her sprained wrist had kept a brace on her hand for weeks. Dancing. She’d been dancing to surprise him. “What a woman,” he praises. He tilts his chin up. “Spread.”

Her breathing is controlled as she slides her right leg out, rebalancing and distributing her weight evenly between her feet. His cock twitches, hardening, lifting and bobbing against his belly. He groans. Shifting closer to her, he leans forward, pressing himself across the divide of her rounded ass. He rubs the head of his shaft over her, slowly hissing out his own pleasure, smearing her with his pre-cum. He settles himself between her legs, stroking back and forth. Arching over her back, his hands fall forward to play with her freely swinging breasts. “Unmph,” she moans, wiggling back into him. Pushing against her, playing with her tits, it’s barely all he can take to not explode before they even begin. Last week? We had sex sometime last week, right? He pinches her peaked buds as he positions himself to line up with her rim. Dropping one end of the belt, he wraps it around her waist, gathering it in one hand, fisting it against her lower back. Her pussy is hot and wet, inviting him in, soaking the tip of his hard cock. She sighs again. He bites his lip to keep from laughing at her annoyance, letting go of her breast to swat her ass. “I say when,” he reminds her.

When? Now? Why the hell wait?

Waiting’s fun, he reminds himself. He slows his breathing, remembering when sex was fun, before it became rushed, fitting it in their schedules, trying again to create life.

He glides his finger through her wet, bringing it back to caress over her puckered hole. Her weight sags forward, melting into the floor. Her weakness, never would have imagined playing with her ass would be her weakness. Pulling up on the belt, he perfects her stance as he pushes his finger, teasing her tight rim. The small squeak she vocalizes makes him smile, and he can picture the delight on her face. Smoothing over the shiny pink surface, he holds the belt tighter around her waist before stimulating her asshole again. “Breathe deep, Kitten,” he reminds her, knowing she’s holding her breath. Seeing her relax, he takes advantage and pushes in up to his knuckle, feeling her silky smooth wall hold him in firmly. When she relaxes more, he slides out and pushes in again, completing the same action with his cock into her waiting cunt, dripping and ready. “Fuuuck,” he whines. “You feel so good baby.”

She cries out, almost squirming away from him, and he holds still a moment while her body adjusts to the stuffed feeling. “Damn tight,” she moans. Not accepting him tonight, her body constricts, forcing his finger out. Leaning over her again, he reaches for her torn shirt, and wipes his hand clean. Her legs are already shaky and her arms, extended in front of her with only her palms on the bed, are twitchy. He can feel her exhaustion, knows it in her muscles from her performance. Sliding his hand under her wild mane of hair, he grips her neck, increasing the pounding behind his thrusts in and and out of her sopping pussy. The smell of sex fills the air and her sweet nectar runs down her legs, squishing out with each forceable propulsion.

“Don’t be mean,” she whispers.

For her defiance, he yanks up on the belt, slamming her to him, in balls deep and holding her neck tighter. Still afraid to admit she likes it rough, he ponders. The sound of their skin slapping together drives him to pump faster, and harder, but with no stimulation to her clit or breasts, she can continue to pant in heat. Her whines grow as the elusive orgasm pains her, her breaths quick and sharp. Her fingers grip the edge of the bed. Chris wonders if she’ll let go, if she’ll defy him further and reach to stimulate herself. He feels his own pressure building as her legs begin to quake. He walks them forward a few steps closer to the bed, dropping his hand from her neck to her shoulder, gently pushing her down to rest her forearms against the bed, tipping her ass up a bit higher. Directly hitting her spot with each ram, her cries grow louder, breathy whines and moans. “Beg,” he commands.

She shakes her head ‘no,’ slowly. “No use,” she groans. “You won’t let me come.”

He chuckles, the tightening low in his belly, and he leans into her, sucked down into her wet flower, gripping and squeezing around him. The first pulse of his cum shoots through him and paints her deep inside. “Shhh-it,” he hisses, dropping the belt to the floor and pulling out to spill all over her back, just as he’d fantasized. It’s in her hair, shot too high, she’ll hate that. Tugging and twisting over the swollen veins of his cock, he pumps faster, watching the ropes of thick white cum splatter her skin. A few drops fall to the floor, but not a big mess. As the pulses die out and he stills in his hand, her form sinks. “Just wait, Kitten. Let me get you cleaned up.”  She nods, but doesn’t speak.

Warming the wash cloth under the sink water, he reaches over and turns on the jet tub, filling it with hot water. Returning quickly to her side, he wipes up the mess, whispering praises for her performance, on the dance floor and as his submissive toy for the evening. He watches her struggle to hold back her words as he picks her up and carries her to the tub. Sinking down in the hot water, it’s like she unfreezes and her words tumble out. “I asked you to fuck me, no, I told you too. What the hell was that, Jellybean?”

Playfully dunking her under the water, he adjusts the knobs for the jets. She emerges, wiping water from her face, spluttering.

“That was us, just getting started tonight, Kitten. I’m nowhere near finished with you yet. We have lots of lost time we need to make up for. I’m gonna call down to the front desk in the morning. We might just hide up here for the rest of the week, no cares, no responsibilities. All the fucking you want and need.”

Climbing over him as he settles into the water, she grips his cock in her hand, not even attempting to be gentle and says, “Sounds like the perfect summer plan to me!”

Read more about Emery and Chris in their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and their story collections

Scroll down under author note for link to next story…

Author’s Note: Inspired by this AMAZING video, choreographed by Chloe Arnold, featuring the Syncopated Ladies. Emery could handle MOST of the routine, stopping at 1:57…

Click here to read the next Emery&Chris story, Sunday with Grand-dad

Copyright © 2018  avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Yes, Sir

et ch 26 yes sir may 31 2017

Chapter 26

Educating Thalia

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago.  Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Word count: 3209

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, argument,  NSFW, fingering, sex in a public place, Dom, Sub, Dom Tom

Summary: Tom has some serious words with Thalia before both of them get carried away during work hours.

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

Tom walks around the meeting room, handing back the research notations to the team of students and faculty preparing for an interim trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon.  He stops at Thalia’s table and sets her paper down, waiting for her to look up at him through her long lashes.

“I’m afraid your notes, though well researched, weren’t quite up to your usual high standards, Ms. Bareo,” he says and sees her eyes go wide.

They widen even more when she sees his notation on the front page.

“I’d like to have a word with you after our meeting,” he adds quietly before continuing his round.

When the meeting is adjourned, he watches her buy time on the pretense of spilling her bag’s contents and painstakingly collecting the items. Her white camisole under her pale blue blazer falls forward, giving him a peek at paradise and his cock twitches at the view.  When the last student has left, she makes her way to the front of the meeting table, smiling.

Tom abandons all pretense of studying his calendar and sits back with folded arms, glancing out the windowed room to the hallway.

“Have you got into any trouble lately, Thalia?”

She raises her brows. “None that I know of. Unless you count the trouble you and I get into, Professor.”

Tom struggles not to grin at her saucy remark, adjusting his glasses and glaring at her instead.

Her teasing smile vanishes, replaced by confusion.

“No. I- I don’t know what you mean?”

“It was brought to my notice that the despicable frat boy who’s been bothering you before gave you hell again.” He clenches his jaw, feeling quite a murderous tendency inside him when it comes to that dipshit coming anywhere near his Thalia.

Understanding dawns on her face, quickly replaced by annoyance.

“Oh, that. It’s nothing.” She waves it away. “He was just being his usual asshole self.”

Tom leans forward. “Did he hurt you?”

Thalia shakes her head and fumbles with her bag’s strap. “Seriously, it’s not worth talking about. I don’t even remember it.”

“Don’t say that. He’s been overstepping his bloody boundary way too many times now. And Professor Evans told me the boy harassed some other girl too, though he paid for that.”

Thalia starts squirming, and he can’t help wondering whether there’s more, whether that idiot has done something serious to her and she doesn’t share it with him because she’s afraid he might cause a scene.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something…protected you.”

She huffs. “Oh for God’s sake, cool down. Nothing much happened. And I don’t need you hovering protectively over me like a clucking mother hen, Tom. Just because you’ve taken control of certain aspects of my life, it doesn’t give you the right to meddle with everything or think I need your advice all the time.”

She’s talking herself into a frenzy, her Latina temperament boiling over.

“I can take care of myself, I’m a big girl. Sorry to destroy your illusions, but this is the wrong era for playing the knight in shining armor.”

Tom flinches as if she’s slapped him, and her expression grows chagrined.

“Shit, that came out all wrong. I’m sorry… But, seriously, just…”

Tom holds up his hands, which stops her mid-sentence. He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He knew this would get her all worked up, but he can’t help it. The thought of her being hurt in some way is a ball of pain in his gut. Icy terror and fiery fury all at once. If he could, he’d punch that wanker in his tiny dick.

With a sigh, he looks at her and tries again. “I know all that, Thalia.” His voice is laced with frustration, so he takes another deep breath. Walking to the window, he looks out into the hallway, watching faculty and staff walk by; controlling his pent up rage.  He isn’t angry at her, only upset that everything is so twisted and complicated.

“I’m well aware of the fact you’re no meek damsel in distress who needs rescuing. I know you value your independence. But even strong women can use some support sometimes, don’t you think? It wouldn’t have hurt to tell me, because…” He glances left and right and leans closer. “We’re together, didn’t we agree on that?  Am I not allowed to worry for my girl’s safety? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Her features soften and she sighs as well.

“He’s not worth all this attention and trouble,” she insists. “Boys like him don’t listen to professorly sermons, and they don’t really change. I can handle him, don’t worry.”

A tiny smile trembles on her full lips, and some of the tension leaves him. “Your ‘girl,’ huh?  Thank you for caring.”

He smiles back, although it feels a bit stiff. “How about enrolling in a self-defense class?” he asks, hating it how pleading his tone sounds now. “To feel safer? It’s not just him I’m worried about. You return home late, you’re in a place full of drunkards and people looking for a fight.”

“You’re entirely too worried about things, Tom. It’ll all be fine. And don’t forget where I come from. I know how to kick a man in his balls and land a mean punch. I grew up in a pretty rough area where the girls can fight as well as the boys.”

He nods, moving to rest against the meeting table, accepting defeat for now because he hates it when she’s upset with him.

She stands there in silence, looking at him and away.

“So… You’re still working with Professor Evans too?”

Thalia raises a brow. Her tone is frosty when she says, “Yes. Occasionally, as requested by the department, just for a few more weeks.  Got any objections, Professor?”

As a matter of fact, he can think of several objections, but he presses his lips together and keeps them in. With the belligerent mood she’s in, she won’t take his comments lightly.

Why does it bother him so much that she’s spending time with his colleague? It’s only work, for heck’s sake, and it’s great experience for her. And it would probably look better for them because then he isn’t monopolizing her and arousing suspicion. Yet…

“Oh, he just doesn’t strike me as the kind of company you should or would keep,” he can’t help himself from commenting coolly, realizing with a start that he’s feeling jealous.

She rolls her eyes, knowing how much it gets him.

“Seriously? Because he doesn’t have a Double First from Cambridge or what?”

Before he can react, she gets in his face. “You know what, I think our much-touted American rudeness is rubbing off on you, Professor. That remark is a bit below the belt. Professor Evans’s work for the college is as important as yours, and it’s an honor to assist him.”

She straightens up and whirls to go after shooting daggers at him one last time.

Tom jumps up from the table and grabs her wrist as she walks past, stopping her.

“Thalia, wait.”

When she glowers at him, he runs a hand back through his hair.

“I’m sorry. I meant no offense. And I have no right to tell you who to work with or not.”

Again, she doesn’t hold her grudge long. Tom makes sure they’re alone before running a finger down her cheek and throat.

“Forgive me, darling?”

She heaves a sigh of exaggerated exasperation. “Yes, sir.”

The glint is back in her eyes, and he slides his fingers down her wrist and palm, tangling them with hers for a moment before stepping away.

“Will you tell me the next time that worthless excuse for a student harasses you?”

Thalia studies him for a long time, and he wishes he could see what’s going on in her brilliant brain. She’s so proud of looking after herself all alone, of being strong. Now more so than ever. But he knows there’s vulnerability beneath the surface, and that deep down she likes to be cared for as well.

“Maybe I will,” she answers with a small smile before extracting her hand and walking out into the hallway.

#

Tom watches her walk away, her ample hips swaying. She’s not wearing a skirt today but slate-grey jeans and ankle-high boots with just the right amount of heel.  While he’s grown overly fond of her wearing skirts – and not only because of the easy access – he can’t help appreciating the way the denim stretches and molds itself to her hourglass figure.

He rubs the back of his neck, trying to get his thoughts in order and his libido in check…but it’s a hopeless case, as happens so often these days.

“Oh, sod it,” he mutters to himself.

In a few quick strides he’s out of the room and half-runs along the corridor to catch up with Thalia.

He makes sure they’re alone before grabbing her arm and dragging her with him to the right. Throwing open the door to a small storeroom, he yanks her inside. With his hand still around her bicep, he slams her up against the door.

Eyes wide, she stares at him. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” his voice is already deep and gravelly, something that happens almost automatically around her because she’s got him so worked up. “Stealing the kiss I’ve been craving all day.”

Tom teases her with his tongue first, long, leisurely licks up her throat and over her parted lips. He nips, taking his time to refamiliarize himself with her taste. When she moans ever so softly, he gives in and slants his mouth over hers.

It’s no gentle kiss, but he doesn’t want gentleness right now. They devour each other, Thalia giving as good as she’s taking, her free hand fisting in the now slightly longer hair on top of his head.

He reaches up and removes her hand, slapping it against the door by her head. With his body flush against hers and his tongue working its magic, he holds her trapped.

It feels like a lifetime later when he finally breaks the kiss to haul in some air.

“Jesus, Thalia, what you do to me…” He pants, trying to catch his breath, feeling her breasts rise and fall against his and begging for his touch.

He licks his lips to savor her flavor, as if he could keep her essence with him for a bit longer like this, to carry him through the day.

“Beneath the skin of my English reserve, there lurks another man. Someone a little wilder, with animal instincts and unfulfilled desires. You bring out that alter ego, and I still haven’t figured out whether it’s a good or bad thing.”

He leans his forehead against hers, trying to rein in his rampant desire. They’re in a public space on campus, for God’s sake, and he can’t seem to be able to keep it in his pants, as if he’s a hormonal teenager.

When he lets his hand slide higher to entwine his fingers with hers, she squeezes them.

“You have the same effect on me,” she confesses, sounding as desperate as he feels.

“You…you make me want things I shouldn’t. Long for things I never even considered before.”

With a soft groan, Tom kisses her again, tugging on her lower lip while grinding against her.

He closes his eyes for a moment in another attempt to control himself.

“You and I, we haven’t been able to spend enough time with each other lately.  I have that damn meeting with the local historical society tonight.” Gazing into her lust-filled eyes, he searches for the right words. “How about we meet tomorrow?  You’ve certainly been sassy enough to warrant punishment.”

She shudders against him, but her eyes cloud over with an emotion he can’t really place. “I’m sorry.” She worries her lip. “I’ve got a study group meeting tomorrow night, one I really need because I haven’t been giving my Museum Collections class as much attention as I should have.  I’ve missed the last two study groups because I was helping you… with things,” she smiles wickedly.

Damn. Disappointment digs into his ribs and tightens his jaw.

“Are you sure you aren’t just trying to avoid another lesson in delayed gratification?” he tries to keep his tone light, but fails.

Thalia frowns. “Really, Tom, I can’t tomorrow.  I’m slacking in that class; the professor knows it and I need that grade for the internships I’ve applied for.”

He glowers at her, knowing she’s right, but he doesn’t have to like it.  He tightens the grip on her arm. “Haven’t I told you that I’m Professor Hiddleston to you when we’re here?”

Her brows rise. “Even when you’re rubbing your erection against me and driving me out of my mind?”

“Especially then,” he growls, taking her mouth in a greedy kiss that has their tongues and teeth clashing for dominance.

When they come up for a breath, she says in a low, mock-meek tone, “Yes, Professor. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good girl and that I don’t have time for you tomorrow.”

The heated darkness in her eyes is a sharp contrast to her voice, amping up his arousal. He narrows his eyes, focuses on the way her pulse flutters in her throat.

“Well, in that case, there’s no time like now.” He leans in and rakes his teeth over her pulse point, making her buck against him.

“Can you be quiet, darling?”

“Yes.” Her answer comes out as a needy gasp. His mouth moves lower, suckling at her skin, but her voice makes him pause. “Professor Hiddleston?”

Fuck, it’s hot to hear her say it in this tone. “Yes?”

“Don’t be gentle.”

His head snaps up and he stares at her intently. “Is that what you want today?”

With deliberate slowness, he lets go of her fingers and trails his hand down her arm and over her clavicle to her throat. His long fingers encircle it, his thumb stroking rhythmically. He doesn’t exert any pressure, but the sight of his hand there and her submissiveness in this moment are a huge turn-on.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands softly. “Do you want me to bite you and leave a mark for everyone to see? To turn you around and take you from behind while you desperately yearn for some friction against your throbbing clit?”

With his fingers around her throat, he can feel her swallow convulsively, her pulse racing.

He leans closer and sinks his teeth into her earlobe before whispering, “Or do you want me to use you to get off? Make you kneel and take all of my cock inside your naughty mouth?”

Thalia shudders and moans. “Anything. I…you…just do something I won’t expect. I need you. I need this.”

It’s his turn to moan. “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you let yourself go a little,” he grinds out. “I wish we had time to play, but this is too risky.”

With a frustrated sigh, he glides his hand down over her breasts, pinching a nipple through the clothes and longing to suck it until she writhes and whimpers.

Burying his head in the crook of her neck to lick and kiss, he lets his hand wander lower. Deftly he opens the button and zip of her pants. Instead of sliding them down, he dives beneath the waistband of her panties and strokes over her folds.

“Mmm, so wet and hot for me. It’s such a fucking turn-on how ready you always are for me.”

He rubs with painful slowness, his movements hindered by her clothes. “Tell me you want my fingers inside you. Tell me.”

“Yes, please, sir,” she begs, her words ending on a half-strangled moan when he seeks out her bud and rubs it in tight, little circles.

Tom tightens his grip on her arm, knowing it will leave bruises. “Tell. Me.”

Her head is thrashing from side to side while she struggles to hold her body still.

“I need your fingers inside me. Please. I want them so deep I’ll be able to feel them for hours. I want to come all around them as if they were your cock.”

Christ, she’s killing him. He can’t remember her so eager, but maybe he’s just imagining things because he’s aching for her so badly.

Kicking her legs open wider, he wriggles his hand deeper into her underwear and slides through her slickness.

“I’m not sure you’ve been good enough to deserve to come,” he grits out between clenched teeth when he feels how soaked she is. “But I’ll make an exception today and give you what you want.”

She sucks in her breath when he presses two fingers inside instead of starting out with only one. Pumping them in and out as best as the position allows it, he moves to kiss her roughly.

“Come for me, Thalia,” he urges in a deep growl. “Think of my tongue buried in your luscious cunt or of my teeth around a nipple to give you that intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.”

Her keening sound and her rhythmic clenching tell him she’s close. He crooks his fingers, finding the spot that will undo her.

His hand moves from her arm to clamp his fingers over her mouth and muffle her sounds.

“Bite me. Bite down and let go. Come for me, my beautiful girl.”

With a sound close to a sob, she obeys. He feels her teeth dig into his palm at the same time as her body convulses and she grips his digits inside her tighter than ever.

Holy mother of God, it’s a miracle he isn’t shooting his load; it’s so unbelievably sexy.

Tom keeps his hands where they are until she’s ridden out her climax and tries to focus blearily on him.

When she reaches out for him and claims a kiss, he lets her, wishing he could have his fill now.

They move apart reluctantly, catching their breath. He’s so hard he doesn’t think he can walk.

“You should go,” he says softly.

“But…” She stares at his tented jeans, licking her lips and making his cock twitch. One hand grabs his blue cable-knit sweater. To steady herself? To pull him closer and make him lose his last working brain cells?

It’s so damn hard to resist. But Tom has to pull himself together, to at least pretend he hasn’t lost control. “No ‘but’. Go.” His tone is commanding but not unkind.

He swipes his tongue over his drenched fingers, sending a silent prayer of thanks upwards that they haven’t been caught in flagrante.

“God, we shouldn’t be doing this,” he says, shaking his head as if it could clear the haze of want.  “Go now. I need a moment.”

Thalia nods, her face flushed. She drops her hand from his chest, fixes her jeans and the rest of her clothes and opens the door to leave. Two steps out, she half-turns back towards him.

“Thank you, sir.”

Click here for Chapter 27 Mine Tonight

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Ride Home

ET ch 23 ride home may 21 2017

Chapter 23

Educating Thalia

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom &  @devikafernando

AU FICTION

A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago.  Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Word count: 4446

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW,  Dom Tom, spanking, safe words, aftercare, fingering, intercourse, car sex, condoms, food porn, real life discussions

Summary: Thalia pushes back on some of Tom’s ‘training’ and challenges him.

Author’s Note: Photo cover images found on Pinterest.  Yes. I’m fully aware that is Dean Winchester’s back!  Search “couple making out in back seat” and a thousand versions of that photo pop up!

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

Pulling up in front of the dark apartment complex, Tom doesn’t like the look of the overhanging shrubs near the gate.  Placing the car in park, he looks at the girl in the passenger seat and over his shoulder at her roommate and with his gentleman’s air says, “Come on, ladies.  I’ll walk you up.  I don’t feel right sending you alone.”

As they climb out of the car, he looks back to Thalia and growls quietly, “Be in the front seat when I return.”

Smiling innocently, she kicks her bag to the side and nods her head, pushing her wayward curls behind her ear.

A few minutes later, he walks down the sidewalk to the car, seeing her still in the back seat, her head rested back and eyes closed.  He lets out a little chuckle and shakes his head at her stubborn sense of freedom, a puff of air in front of him in the cold night.  Pulling himself together, he takes on the role he likes to play with her as he opens the door.  “You didn’t follow directions,” he plainly states in a low voice.  Climbing into his seat, he buckles up and waits for her response.  His eyes watch her in the rearview mirror as she slowly raises her head.

The defiant look he loves so much shines in her dark eyes and she bites her bottom lip, holding back a smile.  “I figured if I was already in trouble, I may as well make it worth it.”

He flicks the item hanging in front of him.  “And are these your panties hanging from my rearview mirror?”

She calmly mimics the lilt to his voice with her own raspy latino rhythm, smokier from the alcohol in her system.  “Is this a fuck blanket in your backseat?”

“A what?”  Tom asks, guessing at her meaning, watching along the deserted street carefully before maneuvering into the driving lane.

Her eyes dance with fire.  “Where I come from, there’s only one reason to keep a blanket in the back seat…”

Harshly Tom replies, “Yes.  I learned a lot about where you come from tonight and-”

She interrupts him, “Listen, you can dress me up and take me to fancy hotels but I’m still the girl that could change the oil in this car in 15 minutes flat and talk baseball in the shop with the other guys at the same time.”

“Ah.  I see.  The two sides of Thalia… well, right now, I think your backside should be over my lap.  You deserve a spanking for your behavior and attitude tonight.”

“Then do it,” she taunts.

“You think I won’t?”  His question is met with silence as she rests her head back again and the drive continues.

His brain rolls with images of spanking her and the pink panties catching in the passing street lights has him make a right turn at the next traffic stop. Turning on the radio, sounds of a lonely Hank Williams tune fills the car and he sees her sly grin in the rearview mirror as she quietly sings along.

When the car finally comes to a stop, she lazily lifts her head and rubs her eyes.  “Where are we?” she curiously asks.

Tom doesn’t reply to her question.  He gets out of the car and shakes out of his thick winter coat and removes his belt, placing both in the driver’s seat before opening the door to the back.  His eyes are dark as he crawls in the seat beside the curly haired imp and her own grow wide.  She curls her lips over her teeth and bites down, a spot of fear on her face, but he knows she is safe and she is playing her role.

“Did you have a question for me, darling?”  Tom asks, his fingers grasping the edge of the blanket he keeps in the car in case of winter emergencies.  It’s wrapped loosely around her waist and with a quick tug it falls open to reveal herself naked from the waist down.  She shivers as his long fingers caress across the top of her leg and he squeezes her thigh tightly.

A small sigh escapes her lips before she asks again, “Where are we?  It’s really dark and secluded.”

With a low moan of his his own, his fingertips knead into her flesh, tugging and pulling as his lips find the side of her exposed neck.  His late night scruff scrapes across her skin before he takes a bite at her collarbone.  His eyes fall to her hands, grasping the edge of the seat tightly.  “It’s okay, love, we’re at the lot for the hiking trail.  No one will be out here this time of night.  Be as loud as you want, wake the sleeping forest creatures.”

Biting back a giggle, she asks, “I’m allowed to make noise, sir?”

“All you want sweetheart,” he asks, biting at her again and leaving a small mark.

His mark.  His heart pounds wildly as she relaxes into him, spreading her legs wider.  He chuckles, “No.  No.  That’s a reward, darling, and you’ve been a bad girl.”

With a flip of his arm around her waist, he lays her over his lap, her full rounded ass exposed to the moonlight coming through the window.  With a quick smack, her skin bounces back and turns red in moments, a gush of air released from her lungs as she grasps his ankle.  “Fuck,” she whispers.

With another swipe of his hand, he rules, “No swearing, darling, it’s not very lady-like.  The stories you told tonight?  Someone needs to teach you to be a lady.”

His cock stiffens between them, the weight of her body against him, and he longs to be inside her as he swats her ass again and again. She takes her punishment silently, but her grip on his legs tightens. The tanned globes of her ass radiate heat from his touch, her curls falling down around her face as she starts to shake her head.

“Chocolate, Tom, chocolate.”

The sound echoes in the car and his hand freezes in mid-air.  He spins her around and cradles her in his lap, pushing her hair back so he can see her eyes.  “Are you alright, darling?  Did I hurt you?”

She huffs slightly, “Yea my ass hurts… Geez.  No.”  She sighs resting against his chest.  “I guess that’s just not a kink for me.  It reminds me too much of mi abuela and how she would paddle me with a wooden spoon when I got in trouble.  You probably can’t imagine this, but I got in trouble a lot.  She said I had a sassy mouth.”  She smiles at his feigned shock.  “I’m okay.  I’m fine.  Really.  It’s just not turning me on.”

Thalia looks up into his eyes, softer now, and cups her hand against his cheek.  “I’m okay.” She rubs her thumb against his cheek to erase his lines of worry.

“Thalia, are you sure?”  His hand tenderly brushes over the raw flesh.  “There’s still some snow on the ground; we could ice your bum?”

She giggles, her eyes glistening with tears.  “You are the sweetest man.  Really, I’m okay.  I can still feel my ass cheeks.  They’re not numb, and I like the light touches you’re doing now.”

As one song on the radio changes to the next, he holds her tight, his worry lessening.  Her fingers loosen against his collar and she slowly begins to unbutton his shirt, pressing kisses along his chest with each area of exposed skin.

“Tom?  I really need you tonight.  Your brain is whirring.  I can almost hear it.  Whatever thoughts you have, just focus on me.”

He sighs and slides down the seat more, his legs cramped in the small space.  “I think I’ve outgrown the size for making out in a backseat.”

“I know I have, but we can have fun trying,” she laughs.  “I um… I probably could use your fingers first to get me ready?”

The blush on her cheeks is beautiful in the moonlight and Tom lifts her up, kissing her tenderly before setting her back down against the door of the car.  “Slow and gentle, my Thalia, and if I hurt you, you tell me.  I’m so, so proud of you for using our safe word and telling me your feelings.”

Tugging the soft blue sweater over her head, she laughs, “Isn’t that why we have it, silly?”

Tom smiles down at her, crawling between her legs, one knee on the bench seat and the other resting on the floorboard.  Lifting her chin he kisses her sweetly, tasting the alcohol on her lips.  Always in the way, he removes his glasses and tosses them into the pile in the front seat.  Sliding his hand down from her face, he cups under her covered breast, running his thumb over the lace, raising her nipple to its peak.  Bringing his scruffy kisses down across her chin and neck, he drags his beard over her chest and latches his mouth over the lace, pulling it in between his teeth before clamping down on the sweet peak.  Flicking his tongue over the bud, the lace gets wet and moves easily with the force of his mouth.

Her hands run over his chest and tug at the waist of his pants while he brings his other hand to push the lace out of the way and expose her tit.  “Stop, stop stop.  Do you know how much it costs to get a good bra to hold these things up?  You’ll stretch the lace.”  She leans forward and quickly undoes the hooks, a look of sweet relief on her face as her breasts fall free and he pulls the delicate fabric from her arms.

“Blue? And pink panties?”

“Yea, I need to do laundry tomorrow.  Nothing matches,” she giggles as she falls back against the door of the car, pulling him on top of her.

He loves her playful side as much as he adores her bending to his will.  It really is like two sides of the same person, each as sweet and sexy.  His mouth finds itself tonguing the chocolate colored bud again as his hand dips into her wet.  Soaked already, he quickly pulls her to the edge, encouraging her noises and cries.  He so rarely gets to enjoy her sexual melodies as they often are in his office or hotel rooms, hiding from prying eyes and ears.

Her whimpers rise to a crescendo, echoing in the car, as she rides out his fingering. Eager to climb on his lap, she pushes against him.  Falling against the seat, he hauls her on top as she reaches between them to free his cock.  “Wait, shit.”  She sits on her heels as he pulls off his socks and shoes and wiggles out of his pants.  Supporting herself on the back of the car seat, she reaches into her bag and removes a condom from a little zipper pouch, throwing it back down on the floor.  Holding the foil packet in between her fingers, her expression softens and her mood changes, waiting for his approval.

Sitting up, Tom wraps his hands tightly in her hair, whispering, “Sometimes bad girls are so good, darling.”

Open mouthed, his nose crashes against hers, nibbling at her upper lip and the side of her mouth, even gently biting her cheek before his lips finally collapse against hers, a desperate need for their kisses, a salve to fix the pain in his chest.   He worries about the spankings, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her kisses are just as fiery, tugging at his lip while her hands stroke him up and down, readying his cock for her as it swells in her grasp.  Her touches change, alternating from tight to slack, dragging her fingertips from base to tip.  With a clumsy twist on the backseat of the car, he slides her onto her back and kneels between her legs again, taking the condom from her and rolling it down his shaft.  “Come for me again, darling.  Spill all over my cock.”

With a strong push, he enters her quickly, surrounded by her sweet wetness, ready just for him.  She exhales sharply and brings her leg over his back as he thrusts in and out of her.  In the back of his mind he knows things have been too rushed between them lately, and it’s time for another getaway weekend, but taking his time here in his car doesn’t seem reasonable.  Her nails scratch at his back and she hisses as her sore ass rubs against the soft leather seat.  “Sir, please don’t make me wait; I can’t.”

Shifting his weight, he supports one hand on the window above her and the other on the seat.  Pushing in to the hilt, he grinds down on top of her and plunges in and out again, his own sounds following hers.  Each time he hits her sweetest spot her cries grow louder before she whispers his name.  Tightening around him she comes, milking from him a release of his own as he drops his head against her chest, whimpering obscenities into the night air.  She stills under him and he slowly pulls out, picking her up to sit her in his lap and wrapping the blanket around their bodies.

“See?  A fuck blanket,” she laughs, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead.

In blissful silence, the rain begins again and beats against the window as he covers her face with tiny kisses and she whispers words of sweet happiness to him.  The radio announcer states the time, and Tom is drawn back to reality, remembering he has to catch the train to the city early in the morning for the school trip.  Holding her a bit longer in his arms, he lightly kisses the top of her head.  “Darling, it’s time to go.  I have that trip in a few hours.”

She sighs and his heart tightens.  “Just a few minutes more.  I feel like you’re always rushing away from me; we really won’t have time this week.  We’ve got all those meetings and I’m out of town with my step-mom when she visits for her convention.  Alone on Valentine’s Day sucks, you know.”

Squeezing her close, he wraps his arms tighter around her as she plays with the wispy hairs on his chest.  “If I didn’t have my meeting with the Chancellor that day to discuss funding for our next trip, I’d be by your side in a heartbeat, darling.”  He sighs, the wild curls in her hair tickling his nose.

Thalia shifts from his grasp, leaning over the console and sticking her rounded behind in his face while she reaches for her underwear.  He moves forward and gingerly kisses the redness on her ass.  Blowing cool air between his lips he continues to caress over her soft skin.  Sighing she wiggles, whispering, “Damn, that feels good.”

Turning to face him for one last kiss, they both begin to dress, handing each other found items on the floor of the car.  She starts to giggle a bit as she pulls on her sweater.  “Tom.  I’m hungry.  Still.  I only ate a few wings and a few of your fries.  Can we swing through some fast food?”

Exiting the car, Tom laughs, shaking his head.  “Get in the front seat this time.  We’ll go get burgers.”

Driving off in search of burgers in the early morning hours, Thalia refreshes Tom’s memory on details of the itinerary for the student trip.  He makes small talk with her about plans for the visit with her step-mother and asks questions about their relationship.  In the flashing of the streetlights, she tugs on his arm and winds her fingers through his, resting their hands on the console separating them.  Giving her hand a warm squeeze, he encourages her discussion of a tattoo in honor of her deceased friend.

“It’s something Stacey’s always wanted to do, and is too chicken to do alone, so she suggested it.  I’m still not sure, but I guess I have a few days to figure it out,” she laughs, pointing ahead to a fast food place with its lights still on.

Turning at the intersection the car drifts lightly on the rain soaked road but Tom holds steady.  “Not sure on the design or if you want one?”

The conversation pauses as they place and wait for their order, Thalia shaking her head that she doesn’t want ketchup.

“Amy- my friend that died last summer?  She was an amazing artist.  I’ve always loved the natural beauty and smell of orchids.” Tom hands her the food from the service window, placing their drinks in the cupholder.  “Her project for her senior portfolio in high school was a beautiful watercolor of a branch of pink orchids she designed for me.  It’s the painting above the mantel in my apartment?”  Drawing the milkshake up through the straw, she scrolls through her phone and shows the image to Tom.  “I’ve always known that’s what I would want, and I have the money saved.”  She giggles, raising her eyebrows.  “Part of me thinks it’s a frivolous use of my hard earned money.  And I’m afraid of needles and don’t like pain. ”

“That could be a problem, darling,” he chuckles, exiting the parking lot.  “I don’t speak from experience, but I think that’s how the process is done.”

“Smart ass,” she whispers between their laughter.

The pair decide it’s late and cold, so Tom will take her back to her apartment and her neighbor can help retrieve the car later in the day.  It’s a Saturday, so she won’t need to worry about getting to campus early.

Clutching the bag of warm food in her lap, Thalia turns in the seat and smiles at Tom as he pulls up in front of her building.  “I had fun.  It was almost like a real date,” she giggles.  “I’m kind of jealous I can’t go on the trip tomorrow; I’d love to see that performance.”

Pulling on her curls, Tom grins, “Well, I’ll see if I can get us tickets during Spring Break.  All those office hours you signed up to work are simply ridiculous.  Campus will be dead while everyone is out having fun and there’s little Thalia slaving away at her books and purchase orders for the next semester.  Take a break, darling.”  Cupping her cheek tenderly, he leans in for a chaste kiss.  “You work too hard.”

“I know, I know.”  She peers down into the bag and pulls out a few fries, offering some to him, but he declines.  “So, um, all that stuff tonight?”

“Yes, love,” he says, turning off the ignition, a curious expression gracing his chiseled features.  He has a feeling this is another of their heart felt chats and he’ll be sleeping on the train to the city in the morning.  “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Unwrapping the burger and pulling it apart, she tosses the pickles to the side.  He tentatively reaches for one and she nods.  She sighs.  “Stacey had me in all kinds of kids’ fitness classes and diet groups.  She worried about my weight.  I’m not really proud of all the things I did as a kid, and I had some pretty big self-esteem issues.  My mother leaving Dad and I was a big thing to overcome, and I was always searching for something.”  She looks out the window at a passing car, avoiding Tom’s gaze.  “I’m not that girl any more. I’ve grown up.  I make adult, womanly decisions.  They still might not always be the best ones, and sometimes I don’t think things through first.” She tilts her head to the side with a small shake of her head. “But they aren’t simply for the sake of having someone pay attention to me… I just wanted to say that.  I have to remind myself sometimes, and I thought it would be good for you to hear it too.”

Tom’s hand caresses down her arm, rubbing over the back of her hand.  “You don’t have to explain anything to me, darling.  You don’t owe me anything.”

She chuckles wryly.  “Yea, actually I do.  I’ve always kinda been this tough thing, taking care of myself.  Dad kinda raised me that way- ‘Seas independiente.’  Being on campus really helped me figure out who I wanted to be.  I still remember walking into your class that first time I saw you…”  She blushes and pauses in her thoughts.  “You took my breath away; not for your handsome good looks, but just for your passion; your obvious enjoyment of life.  I wasn’t even planning to be a language studies major- I was history, all in.  But you… Tom, you’ve really shaped the choices I’ve made in my schooling and career.”  Stopping again, she nibbles on the burger growing cold in her hands and Tom’s eyes brim with tears.  “Oh, don’t get sappy on me.  I can’t handle that,” she chuckles, her voice choked as well.  “We get too caught up in our own head spaces and I forget to tell you you’re important to me.  With you, it’s nice not to have to think…”  Thoughtfully, the dark haired beauty pauses again.  “I appreciate all you’ve shown me; all you’ve given me.”

Tom rests his head against the seat, watching her, not knowing what to say.  As if she reads his thoughts, she caresses his cheek and the whiff of onions on her hands is unmistakable.  He takes her wrist and kisses her palm.  “Thank you, darling.  And I most likely don’t say it enough either.  It’s not a very British thing to do.  We often sit on our feelings, but you remind me that’s a very uptight way to live.”

“We’re good together,” she simply states, the smile reaching her eyes.

“That we are, darling, that we are.”  Returning her smile he takes the remaining pickle from the paper wrapper.

In his heart, he knows she needs more from him, but Thalia’s chipped away at his hard surface.  As the cliche goes, she’s made him a better man.  He’s offered his recommendation to several museums overseas when they call to inquire about her resume.  His heart breaks every time he sings her praise, as he knows he can’t hold her back.  The quiet country music fills the car and the mood lightens while she teases him about his choice of music and the pair talk a bit longer on lighter subjects.

“By the way,” she giggles.  “Made a new friend tonight, did you?”  She purses her lips, a spot of jealousy in her eyes.  “I was too afraid to reach under the table and tease along the seam of your pants for fear my fingers might brush against hers.”  Shuddering at the thought, she watches his own reaction.

Groaning, he runs his own hand nervously along said seam.  “Apparently the math department is very forward, and they’re all okay with it.”

“Right?  They all acted like it was no big deal.  Ugh, who would want him? So crude, and his cheap polyester ties.”  Rolling her eyes, she chews on the last french fry.  “I mean, if you’re going to have an affair with a professor, go for the ones with nice silk ties.”

His laughter fills the car and she smiles at her joke.  “Count that as a kink,” she smiles.

“Good to know,” he replies.  “Another one for our list.”  His hand caresses her thigh, stopping with a light squeeze before resting warmly on her leg.

“You can come up,” Thalia offers shyly.  “You don’t have to go home tonight.”

The grip on his heart tightens, as it always does when she invites him to stay..  As much as he wants to say yes, he also knows he needs to be ready for the school trip.  “No, darling.  I can’t.  There’s a good possibility if I walked through that door, I would never want to leave your bed ever again.”  He offers that truth to her, caressing against the soft skin of the open neckline on her sweater.  “I still have a few things to keep up with at home to make the morning train.  I’ll probably nap all the way to the city.”

Reaching in the back seat, Thalia turns to hide her disappointment.  Picking up her purse, she pulls the blanket through the gap between the seats.  “Take this.  Snuggle with it on the train,” she giggles, clearing the air.  “That could cause sweet dreams.”

Leaning over the console for a goodnight kiss, he whispers, “More like erotic dreams I don’t need to have in public with twenty or so students, you wicked girl.”

As if to prove how hard he finds it to resist temptation when it comes to her, Tom takes his time with the goodnight kiss.

He nips at Thalia’s bottom lip to make her part hers, then flicks the tip of his tongue over them. Every time she tries to deepen the kiss, he draws back a fraction, grazing his teeth over the glistening flesh or simply hovering close and breathing her in. When he finally slants his mouth over hers and slides his tongue in as deep as it can get, they both moan heatedly into the kiss. Tongue strokes against tongue, and their mouths part only to meet again and again.

After what feels like an eternity, Tom withdraws with a last lick and a soft groan, leaving Thalia blinking and out of breath.

Once she’s shaken off the new bout of intense longing, she folds the blanket and lays it in her lap, running her fingers over the lumps to smooth it out.  “Good night, Tom.  Have fun tomorrow.  Thank you for a wonderful evening.  Sometimes things turn out amazing when you go against the plan.  I’m glad I didn’t sit alone in the library studying.”

“Me too, darling.  Come on.  I’ll carry your things and walk you in.”

She giggles and shakes her head.  “Don’t be so British.  That’s ridiculous.  It’s my building and it’s five steps away from the car.  Totally safe here.”

Before he can argue, she opens the car door and hops out, closing it with a bang.  In the rain, she runs around the front of the car, and taps the driver’s side window.  Tom quickly rolls it down, accepting her wet kisses before she bounces away.  He waits as she unlocks the building door and disappears inside.  Watching for oncoming traffic before he drives away, he hopes his car forever smells like his sweet hothouse orchid.

Click here to read Chapter 24 It’s Complicated

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

A Night at the Movies

ET ch 19 May 7 2017

Educating Thalia

Chapter 19

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago.  Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Word count: 3934

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom Tom, sex in a public place, fingering, exhibitionism

Summary: Tom takes Thalia out on a date to the movies – and he has much more planned than just watching the screen!

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

Tom approaches their meeting point in his car, anticipation making him drum his fingers on the steering wheel. He’s looking forward to spending some quality time with Thalia. Even though – or maybe because – they see each other every day at work, he’s been missing her.

It should probably bother him that he’s grown so attached to her, that he feels a little possessive pinch every time he sees her in someone else’s company – even if it’s just other students – but it doesn’t.

In the past, he used to overthink everything, and all that ever did for him was make him brood and steal his happiness. So for the past few years, he’s taken things at face value, has stopped questioning himself. His brain might be telling him that he’s inviting trouble by ‘dating’ Thalia, but his heart insists that it’s exactly the right thing.

“Shut up, brain,” Tom mutters under his breath, “just lose yourself in Shakespeare sonnets so my heart can get what it wants.”

He’s even considered going to the bar on the outskirts of town where Thalia works off and on. There’s a curious part inside him that wants to watch her in an environment completely different from campus. He has a feeling it brings out her tough side, the one that is closely linked to the sassiness she lets shine through the more he gets to know her.  He’s heard talk from students and faculty who have visited the bar about how she handles the tough guys and takes no shit, of how she somehow rises above all the drunken stupor, boisterous shouts, sullen drinking and rowdy games.

But Tom isn’t a bar guy at all, and it’s a ‘local’ bar, not designed for the college crowd. Something, a different voice at the back of his head, cautions him that it wouldn’t do him any good to stalk her like that. Perhaps it’s better this way. Perhaps she needs a domain that’s exclusively hers, where she knows she isn’t watched by him and can be whoever she chooses to be.

He rounds the corner, slowing the car a little when the movie theater comes into view. For a moment, he wishes he could just pick her up at home, maybe have her invite him up for a cup of tea and some lazy kisses on the couch.

Turning right, he steers the silver Lexus into the parking lot.

There she is. Thalia is standing next to her cute little junky excuse for a car, her riotous curls tamed by a ridiculously long, pink scarf wrapped around her neck a dozen times and still hanging down to the hem of her knee-length skirt. Her coat and her skirt are black, so the splash of hot, feminine color is twice as striking from the distance. She’s stomping her bare legs in the cold, wearing her signature cowboy boots. Her hands are stuffed in her coat pockets, and she’s not watching the area for him but waiting with her head half-lowered.

When she hears the approaching car, she looks up, and he notices her thoughtful expression before a smile slowly transforms her face.

Tom parks a little away and gets out, shuddering once at the cold. He should’ve brought his own scarf. Then again, they weren’t planning on walking but on watching a special screening of Coriolanus, a stage play performed recently in London and now released worldwide for select theaters.

Pulling the hood of his coat tight around his neck, he ignores the fog on his glasses as he approaches. His lips stretch in an answering smile, forming laughter lines around his eyes.

“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Bareo,” he says with the lift of a brow. “Then again, I do know you’re a huge Shakespeare fan too.”

Her smile falters a little and she lifts a hand to tug on her orchid-pink enormity of a scarf.

“Who could resist the Bard – especially if such magnificent actors reenact one of his best plays?”

Shooting a glance left and right, Tom comes closer. He can’t help himself, he needs to touch her. There’s nobody to be seen anywhere near, and as the car park is at the back of the building, they’re in no danger of being discovered.

He leans closer and wraps her in his arms, inhaling her unique scent mixed with wool and biting winter cold.

Thalia takes a moment, then melts into his embrace, her arms coming up around his waist to press herself closer.

They remain like this for a precious moment while Tom resists the temptation to kiss her.

A gust of wind makes her shiver against him, and he rubs her back.

“Let’s go inside. We’re a bit early, but I can’t wait to feel warmer.”

She nods and they step away from each other, walking into the building. They’re close enough for their arms to touch, and Tom brushes a finger softly over her hand before putting a tiny bit more distance between them.

The next few minutes are spent exploring the place with all its Shakespeare-themed posters and paraphernalia, and then bickering goodnaturedly over what snacks to buy and what is the correct way to eat one’s popcorn. Tom insists on carrying their drinks and snacks, and he watches mesmerized as she unwraps those seemingly infinite layers of scarf and then loops the soft material around a hand so it’s finally small enough to stuff into a coat pocket.

He takes her to the hall, which is half empty. Their seats are at the very back. There are a few people right at the front, and judging from their animated talk they are Shakespeare enthusiasts. Several of the seats in the middle rows are occupied by younger and older couples who obviously had the same idea as Tom and want to share some privacy, probably not caring much for Coriolanus.

They settle down, Tom helping Thalia out of her coat because the place is surprisingly warm. She’s wearing a pink sweater underneath that is exactly the same shade as her scarf and stretches fetchingly across her ample breasts. He runs a hand over her shoulder and down her arm, briefly entangling their hands.

“Pretty. You don’t just smell like orchids, you look like them too.”

She raises her brows at him. “Ever the complementing gentleman, huh?”

“Why, of course.” He feigns shock, clutching his chest. “I couldn’t possibly not pay you a compliment about your outfit before we get down to business. About a million dead ancestors would roll over in their graves.”

That makes her giggle. “And what on earth do you mean with ‘getting down to business’, Professor?” she asks, her brows rising even higher.

He gives her his most innocent puppy-dog face. “Oh, just a general way of summarizing whatever may or may not happen during the next few hours.”

Now she’s narrowing her eyes at him, getting that sharp look of curiosity and intelligence that he loves so much.

“I thought we came here to watch a play?”

“Among other things,” he says airily and holds down a seat for her.

With an eye roll, she sits down, her skirt riding up to her thick thighs and making his hands itch to explore.

Tom takes a seat next to her and hands her the Coke. “Did you know that critics consider Coriolanus as the most opaque of Shakespeare’s tragic heroes? Compared with other grand works like Macbeth or King Lear, there’s hardly a revelation of his motives or a soliloquy. It makes him appear more like those ancient classical literature heroes like Odysseus or Achilles.”

Thalia cocks her head a little, listening intently. “Interesting. Wouldn’t that make him kind of difficult to sympathize with?”

“It does, yeah. Perhaps that’s why this play isn’t performed as much as others.”

“I heard there was a movie starring Ralph Fiennes that gave the story a modern twist?” Thalia asks, momentarily distracting him from lecture mode when she gulps a bit of her soda and licks a drop from her lips.

“Uh… yes. Yes, you’re right. A highly acclaimed actor and a stunning, quite provocative movie. Then again, today’s interpretation has earned a lot of praise too. There’s all that pride and militarism and Roman grandeur, but also so much subtle background story.”

They spend the next few minutes talking about the play and then veer to small talk, and something feels a little odd to Tom. Thalia seems distant, a bit subdued almost, although her smile – when she does smile – reaches her eyes.

Didn’t she mention she’d been with a friend? But that should have left her in a good mood.  He wonders why she isn’t as enthusiastic or flirty as he’d hoped?

Deciding to pull her out of her thoughts during another lull in conversation, Tom says, “You know, I’ve been in a couple of Shakespeare plays myself.”

That does catch her attention. She gapes at him, a handful of popcorn halted in mid-air.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He grins. “I swear, scout’s honor.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for an actor, Professor Hiddleston.” Wide-eyed, she grins back at him. “Tell me all about your acting career.”

With a sheepish smile, Tom rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not actual acting, just a bit of dabbling. It was for a college play both times, actually. I starred in Cymbeline and Othello. It was fun, once I’d died a thousand deaths of mortification.”

He’s interrupted by the lights going out and the sounds of people settling down for the movie.

For the next half an hour, they’re much too intrigued and enthralled by the play to talk much. They munch on their snacks, off and on elbowing each other or exchanging a glance or tugging on a sleeve when they want to share their delight.

When a shift of her body makes her skirt ride up higher, Tom remembers what had been his plan today.

Leaning over, he nuzzles her hair softly before taking her arm and draping it over the back of his seat so he can get closer and lean against it. She makes a content little sound, and after a moment, her head drops to his shoulder. It’s dark enough for them not to fear discovery.

Tom switches his popcorn to the other hand and rests his free hand on her knee. Thalia shoots him a glance but focuses on the shouting Roman general again when he simply keeps it in place.

He waits until she’s so immersed in the play that he will catch her off guard. Slowly, he lets his hand wander higher until he slinks it beneath the hem of her skirt and runs his nails over the inside of her thigh.

Thalia’s legs close, effectively trapping his hand between them.

“What are you doing?” she hisses out of the corner of a mouth, staring determinedly ahead.

The light is too low, but he bets she’s blushing.

“I think I’ve had enough popcorn. I’m hungry for a different kind of treat,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low and letting it drop to the deeper register that always works wonders with her.

He feels her shiver. When he wiggles his fingers against her skin, her legs open ever so slightly. It gives him enough room to slide his hand higher until his fingertips are brushing the crease where skin meets panties.

“Are you up for some naughty shenanigans, Miss Bareo?” he asks, leaning close enough to her ear that his breath fans warmly over her.

He sees her grip tighten on her popcorn bag before she draws in a deep breath.

“What kind of shenanigans did you have in mind, Professor Hiddleston?” she asks back in the same low tone.

“Let me surprise you, darling.”

A few seconds tick by, making him wonder again why she’s not as responsive to him today. But then she nods, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

“We’re in the last row, remember. Nobody can see us. And everyone’s either too busy making out or watching the play to notice anything out of order.  And you remember our safe word?”  Sexual encounters in a public place aren’t for everyone, and he wants her to know she has an out if she chooses.

She nods again.

“Are you a good girl, Thalia?” His voice is even lower and deeper now.

“Yes…sir.”

God, she remembered that. Tom feels himself grow harder and adjusts his position surreptitiously.

“Then you deserve a treat. Spread your legs wider, love.”

Thalia complies, her gaze never leaving the screen. He can hear her breath come a little faster.

Bending his wrist a bit, he runs his fingers softly over the front of her panties, stroking rhythmically without touching high enough to brush her clit. After a few strokes, the fabric goes damp.

Her popcorn bag wobbles in her now unsteady grip, so she sets it down in the seat next to her and puts her empty hand into her lap. It clenches into a fist when he moves his fingers higher and adds some pressure, rubbing over the hidden nub.

In the dim light, he can see her dig her teeth into her lower lip.

“Do you trust me, darling?”

“Yes.” Her voice is husky.

Tom leans closer still, speaking with his lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

“Then be a very good girl for me and take your panties off.”

“What?” It comes out as a mix between a soft shout and a startled squeak. From somewhere, a voice shushes them, and he can feel her muscles grow tense.

Tutting softly, he gives her clothed clit a pinch that makes her jerk and suck in her breath. Her eyes are on him now, wide and dark.

“Take them off. Now. And I’ll reward you.”

He removes his hand from under her skirt and shrugs out of his coat, draping it strategically over their laps. Moving with deliberate jerkiness, he knocks a chocolate bar down.

“Bend to pick this up and use it as a pretense.”

She holds his gaze for a moment, her breasts heaving with unsteady breaths.

“Hell, Tom, you’re a fucking menace,” she mutters darkly.

“And you love it,” he whispers back with a smirk, his cock twitching when she moves to obey his command.

Wriggling a little under the cover of the coat, Thalia slips her panties down and slowly lifts a foot at a time out of it while grabbing the wrapped candy.

“Hand them to me.”

Avoiding his gaze this time, she drops the wadded damp silk fabric into his waiting hand and he pockets it.

They settle down, watching the play for several minutes as if nothing happened.

Tom takes her hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing reassuringly. He can feel her shift, crossing and uncrossing her legs and fully aware of going commando in a movie theater.

“Have you ever had a quickie, Thalia?” he asks, taking care to keep his voice as low as possible. He brushes his leg against hers. “Some forbidden little tryst in the restroom or up against the wall in a dark corner?”

She sucks in another breath. “No.”

“Wrong answer. You should say ‘no, not yet’. How about I introduce you to the thrill of that one day?”

Her grip on his hand tightens like a vice.

“Would you like that? To let me pull you to a semi-secluded place and grind against you, plunging my tongue into your mouth and my fingers into your sopping cunt? Would you wrap your legs around me and let me take you so hard and fast you see stars? Make you feel so good that you’ve never wanted to scream more in your life but know you can’t? Would you let me fuck you so mercilessly that I’ll have to clamp my hand over your mouth and let you bite my fingers so nobody can hear you when you come all over my cock?”

He hears her mutter expletives in Spanish and English and can’t hold back a devilish smirk, although he’s enjoying this so much that his trousers are way too tight now.

“Does the thought of it make you wet?” he taunts softly. “Shall we verify that, love?”

Tom moves their joined hands beneath the coat and her skirt, brushing over the inside of her trembling thigh and inexorably closer to the Promised Land.

He touches her slick folds, their tangled fingers stroking and spreading the proof of her arousal. Biting back a groan of his own, he listens to her needy, soft whine. After a minute of stroking, her hips rise, her breath a harsh pant that only he is close enough to hear.

“More, darling? Want me to make you come right here and right now?”

“Fff…. god yes. I hate you for this, but… yes. Make me come. Please, Tom.”

“As you wish, darling.”

He tugs free of her grasp and moves her hand to her own thigh. “Dig your fingers in and hold on for the ride.”

Tom leans over her on the pretense of adjusting his coat over her, and it allows him more flexibility. At the same time when he slides two fingers into her soaking heat, he bends to capture her lips in a kiss.

He knows they’re not the only couple kissing at the moment, but nobody will be the wiser that he does it to swallow up the moans now rising from deep in her chest.

Without further teasing, he crooks his fingers up inside her to rub over the spot that will trigger her release. He rubs his thumb over her swollen nub and glides his tongue into her mouth, dancing with hers as she gasps, freezes and then clamps rhythmically around him.

While stifling her whimper and his own, he slows his movements to bring her down from her high.

Once she has stopped convulsing around him, he pulls out and settles somewhat painfully in his seat, his erection straining to have some fun too. He waits until she focuses hazily on him before he brings the slick digits to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Definitely tastier than the sweets they sell here,” he growls before stealing another breathless kiss from her.

Thalia slumps in her seat, so dazed she doesn’t even ask for her panties back.

“I think you’ve ruined Shakespeare for me,” she says amidst soft pants, and he can hear the reluctant grin in her husky voice. “I’ll never be able to talk about Coriolanus again without remembering this.”

“Likewise, darling,” he admits with a chuckle.  “And I have to present it once a semester in class.”

She catches him totally by surprise when her hand slides over his bulge and squeezes gently.

“Let me help you too?”

Tom presses her hand down, forcing himself not to buck into the more than welcome warmth so close to where he’s dying for her.

“Not here, darling. I need to be inside you, and I haven’t made you come nearly enough yet.”

He laces his fingers with hers, keeping their hands on his lap but out of the danger zone, not entirely sure that he’ll be able to control the monster he’s unleashed. Since Chicago, she’s a little more forward, more daring, and he loves it, but it also fills him with the weirdest wistful ache deep inside. For she isn’t his, as much as he wants to convince himself otherwise.  She’s like a wild creature who needs freedom, who shouldn’t be tamed, but could stand a little training.  As much as he wants her to himself, he reminds himself to be realistic. He can’t keep her forever.

That thought sits with him, a lump in his chest, and he can’t focus on the film before him, although the portrayal is amazing work. The rest of the play goes by in a blur, neither of them paying full attention or finishing the snacks, although his throat is parched with longing and he could guzzle two bottles of water right about now.

Tom rises as soon as the credits start rolling, tugging her out with him before people might take notice of who had occupied the last row.

They dump their stuff on a bench in the lobby and juggle their clothes, Tom taking it upon himself to wrap her in the never-ending loop of her scarf and nuzzling the softer than soft material that smells of her.

“Where would you like to go now?” he asks her. “I could rent us another hotel room and order take-away or room service?”

Something shifts in her face, which is still slightly flushed. She looks away for a moment and takes a deep breath.

They’re in a corner towards the back, alone for the moment. After checking left and right, Thalia takes his face in her hands. It’s an odd gesture, the tenderness of it jolting through him.

“Will…will you be mad if I decline?” she asks, her voice a little uncertain.

Tom feels something heavy settle on his chest and sinking lower into his gut.

There it is again, a small sign that something is off today.

He’d love to know why she’s reacting like this, but he knows it’s none of his business unless she wants to share it with him. So, he forces a smile onto his face, happy when it brings the spark back into her beautiful eyes.

“I have no right to be mad at you, Thalia,” he says. “Please don’t ever think you’re in any way obliged to spend time with me.”

She nods once, letting go of his face. He wants her hands back there, where they feel as if they belong. He wants her in his arms, in his bed, goddammit.

“Tom,” at the sound of his name he knows their little game is over for today.  “Don’t be that way. I love being with you, but I’m…tired. And I didn’t get much studying done this afternoon, because I was getting ready to see you.  This was a nice surprise for our ‘day off,’ but can we just go grab a quick cup of coffee? Maybe sit and talk for a bit? I’d really like that.”

Tom feels himself nodding like a loon, hears himself speak in a tone that grates on his nerves because the cheerfulness is all fake. “Sure, totally fine with me. There’s a great little bakery just around the corner?”

Her hand gently runs across the stubble on his chin as she teases, “You always know the best places to eat!”

He feigns a chuckle, and something in her expression tells him she’s seeing right through the farce.

Shit, he didn’t think it would be so difficult to face rejection from her. Not so soon, not like this when they’ve barely explored all the magnificent possibilities, but he feels like she’s leaving him behind.  Like something is weighing heavy on her beautiful mind.

Then again, he’s probably taking this far too seriously. Everyone has a bad day once in awhile. He shouldn’t read anything into this.

Pulling himself together, he leans in and kisses her on both cheeks, lips lingering a tad too close to her mouth.

“And I’ll share them all with you, love,” he says quietly, trying to mask the sinking feeling in his stomach. Buoyed when she links her arm around his, she pushes them out the door and onto the deserted sidewalk.

“Come on, Professor. Although I quite enjoyed the reasoning behind your clothing request, I’m freezing now. Let’s go!”

Click here to read Chapter 20 Disclosure

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Tutoring

ET ch 12 tutoring April 14 2017.jpg

Educating Thalia: Chapter 12

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago.  Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom, Sub, safe words, binding, blindfolds, aftercare, delayed orgasms, cunnilingus, blow job, spanking, condom use, silk tie play, trust, lessons from Tom on making tea

Summary:  Tom and Thalia grow closer while spending the night together in Chicago, putting his Christmas present to good use and learning to make a proper British cup of tea.

SPECIAL NOTE: Due to Good Friday in the States and the New Year celebration in Sri Lanka, there will be THREE story postings this coming week.  Look for chapters to be posted on Wednesday, April 12; FRIDAY, April 14 and Sunday, April 16.  If you want to make sure you are always up to date with Tom, Thalia and Chris, just follow avenger-nerd-mom on WordPress and stories are sent directly to you!

Images used for this chapter were found on Pinterest

Word Count 5996

Click here for the intro to Educating Thalia

Tom inserts the key card and enters the room, with Thalia close on his heels and still holding his free hand.

He’s opted for a cozy double room this time, not a lavish suite, but he made sure before booking that the bathroom has a generous tub if his girl should want a repeat performance of their first night together.

Pulling Thalia to him, he nuzzles her hair.  “I’m glad, darling, we were able to spend the day together.  I enjoyed seeing your city through your eyes.  So many places to visit; it’s no wonder you grew up with a love for theater, history and culture.”

Thalia pushes back against him, taking his hand.  “Come here, you have to see something.”

Tom drops his bag and follows her to the window.  Pulling back the curtains, the beautiful city lights up in front of them as snow begins to fall and a lighted ship can be seen on the lake, bobbing along on the waves.  His arms wrap around her waist and she rests hers on his, running her fingertips along his leather watch band.  His pulse quickens at her light touch and he wonders if she has any idea how she makes him feel.

“I’ve never really seen the city from up high at night; it’s so beautiful,” she whispers, leaning forward to get a better view.

With her forehead pressed against the glass, he releases one hand from her grasp and sweeps her long hair over her shoulder.  “Not as beautiful as you,” he whispers in her ear, continuing to tug at her hair.

He can see the smile in her reflection on the cool glass.  Pursing her lips together, she quietly says, “It’s a lost cause.  The Chicago wind; my hair will be in knots for days.  I like…” she sighs, turning in his arms.  Playing with the buttons on his shirt collar, she looks up at him through her dark lashes.  “I like leaving it down for you to play with…”

His heart flips at her innocent admission.  Before he can speak, she makes another confession.  “You also look really good in plaid,” she giggles.  “It’s damn near pornographic.”

“Oh, really,” he taunts, a chill running through him as her fingertips light over his collarbone, dipping beneath his shirt collar.  Barely a whisper between them, he tells her, “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Entirely too sinful… I wouldn’t be able to concentrate in class-”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” His hand reaches behind her and gives a light squeeze on her ass.

They both laugh warmly at the ruined lesson the day she wore the plaid skirt to lecture, and the few times since they’d worn or said things in a veiled attempt to tease the other out in the open.

Standing in front of the window, he begins to sway with her gently in his arms as they look out over the city.  He tries to formulate the words that tickle at the back of his mind.  He opens his mouth several times, but closes it quietly, not knowing what to say and not wanting to say too much.

She giggles, gently shaking in his hold.  “Tom, just spit it out.  I can see your reflection in the glass and you look like a funny fish!”  She mimics him in the window and he has a good laugh with her.

Shaking his head, he begins, looking down on her glowing face, cheeks still slightly pink from the wind..  “Thalia, I didn’t come all this way to visit you out of sexual frustration.  I want you to know I truly missed you.  I’ll admit, dammit, I was miserable without you.  My favorite hiding places- my office, the library- they held no spark for me knowing you wouldn’t pop around the corner.  Do you understand, darling?”

Her eyes soften and a new expression fills them, something he’s not seen there before.  She licks her lips and he can see her pulse quicken.  A light blush crosses her face, darkening her freckles.  “I understand, Tom.  I… I felt the same.  I’ve missed you; the feel of your arms, the poetic lilt of your voice.  You calling me this morning?  That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.  I can’t repay that to you, but-”

“Darling, it’s not a give and take like that.  Just having you here with me now is enough.”  His hand slides up her curvy figure and his palm rests against her rapidly beating heart, his fingertips brushing gently along the gold necklace chain she wears.

In her low raspy tone she tells him quietly, “I guess I could confess something else to you, as a thank you for flying all the way out here to see me?”

“What’s that, Thalia?”  His own pulse echoes in his ears and he wonders what she has to share with him.  “You can always tell me anything.”

Her mouth  turns up into to a cocky grin and she bites at the corner of her lip.  “You once asked me if I pleasure myself while thinking of you?  Well, I’ve been missing you a lot, late at night-”

“Oh, fuck, Thalia,” he chuckles darkly, “then let’s get on with it, shall we?”

She throws her head back in laughter and the tension has a more playful feeling now, but Tom still intends to give her a lesson.  She has no idea what she does to him…

“I hope you aren’t suffering from an overdose of too many sinful experiences late at night and alone, are you darling?”

She snakes her arms around his waist and buries deeper into his embrace, shaking her head. Her words come out muffled against his chest.

“Not at all. As long as I share all the experiences with you.”

“Excellent.”

As much as he enjoys a simple hug as this, Tom draws back, flicking her chin up with his long fingers.

“Good, because I have another new experience waiting for you.”

She looks up at him, and something about the expression of utter trust in her face makes him feel ten feet tall. He steals a quick kiss before saying in a low voice full of sinful promises, “I’ve been dying to try out my Christmas present, you know?”

He sees her eyes widen, then darken when she remembers- their last night together before she left on break and the silk tie and their talk about alternative uses for it.

“Yes,” she says, her voice already breathy, and he can’t wait to see how far she will let him go today.

The air between them becomes charged with sexual energy and anticipation.

Cupping her face in one large hand, he holds her gaze intently.  “A few things first before we start playing. While we’re doing this, I’m in control. You do what I say. You don’t ask any questions, unless you need clarification of what you’re supposed to do. If you address me, you’ll call me sir. Understood?”

Her tongue sneaks out to wet her lips. She nods, then remembers earlier instructions and adds a breathy, yet somewhat confident, “yes”.

He can feel her pulse throb against his fingers and he knows his heart is racing just the same. God, how has he deserved a woman like this? She’s a true gift, and he intends to treasure her for as long as she lets him.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t like, so please don’t be scared, darling. I’m giving you the safe word ‘chocolate’. If you want me to stop something I’m doing or you ever feel uncomfortable at any point, you say the word clearly once, and I’ll take that as a signal to stop immediately.”

Thalia shivers, and he caresses her gently, trying to ease her nerves.  “Do we really need a safe word, Tom?”

Fear in her dark eyes, he worries he’s frightened her.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you or be too rough, nothing I don’t think you’ll enjoy.  It’s just a precaution…” His voice is tender and soft, to alleviate her concerns, but switches back to a controlling sound to finish his thought.  “What’s your safe word, darling?”

She sighs, working her lip over and he can feel her fingers nervously fidgeting with a fold on the back of his shirt where her hands rest around his waist.  “Chocolate.”

“Exactly. It’s your right to use it whenever things become too much. But I just want to tell you that you shouldn’t use it too liberally. This is all about new experiences. I want to educate you and guide you. So even if something might strike you as strange or daring, give it a chance first and see because you might enjoy it. Okay?”

She pulls herself tall in his arms, creating a confidence, making up her mind to turn herself over to another lesson at his hands.

“Yes, sir.”

Jesus, they haven’t even started yet and she’s got him hard.  She’s so stunning in the dark light, with the city glowing behind her, and he’s proud of her resolve.

“We won’t try anything too forward today,” he adds because he wants her to enjoy this and not panic.  And as he’s told her, he isn’t into the hardcore stuff anyway.  To prove he wants this to be fun, he nips playfully at her neck, eliciting a light squeak from the back of her throat.

“Yes, sir, I trust you.”  She nods, her curls bouncing and her pulse leaping.

“Good girl. Let your man show you how much fun a bit of playing can be.”

He lets her face go and grabs hold of her hand to pull her towards the bed.

“Strip for me, love.”

A little less shyly than the first time, Thalia removes her clothes one by one, holding eye contact.

Tom licks his lips and takes deep breaths. He doesn’t move from his spot until she has stepped out of her white panties, the innocence of them contrasting tantalizingly with her actions.

He steps out of his shoes, impatience raising its head inside him.

“Now be a darling and help me out of my clothes.”

She comes forward eagerly and removes his jacket before unbuttoning his plaid shirt. When her fingers brush lingeringly over his pecs, he grabs her wrist.

“No touching. Not yet. Just remove my clothes.”

“Yes, sir.”

She undoes the rest of the buttons and slides the shirt off, followed by the navy T-shirt he’s wearing beneath it. Tom shifts obediently this way and that, pleased that she’s sticking to the rules so far. His pants are next, and her fingers shake slightly while she opens the belt.

Slowly, she pushes the button through its hole, then lowers the zipper over the beginning bulge. Her hands falter and her eyes shoot up when she discovers that he’s been going commando.

Thalia opens her mouth to say something, but a warning lift of his eyebrow reminds her that she’s supposed to be silent. Tom watches with a smirk how she eyes his hardening cock with longing but keeps her hands to herself. He can tell whatever she wants to say is just killing her and he’ll have to ask later.

She lowers his pants all the way down to his feet, squatting in the process. Tom steps out of them and removes his socks, then pulls her up with him.

“The tie is under the left pillow. Be a good girl and bring it to me.”

His voice has automatically taken on a deeper timbre, a low growl full of authority.

He enjoys the view of her round ass when she walks to the bed, bends and retrieves the tie. The shiny silk with its mesmerizing color pattern of blue, purple and pink gleams in the light. Thalia is holding it in both hands, carefully carrying it like a breakable glass on a tray.

Tom takes it, gliding his fingers over it in a caress that has her suck in a breath. He plays with the length of it, watching her eyes follow the movement as if hypnotized by the sight.

“One day,” he says softly, “I’ll have you tie it for me before a party or retie it during the event, your fingers tugging and stroking it. And we’ll both remember what purpose it served before I wore it.”

He leans in for a kiss, snaking his tongue past her lips and feeling a little of the tension leave her body.

“Do you trust me?”

Her answer is immediate. “Yes…sir.”

“Perfect. Turn around and close your eyes.”

She does as told, swallowing hard. When he lifts the tie to her forehead and places it over her eyes instead of looping it around her wrists, she starts.

“But I thought…”

“Be quiet, pet.” He makes his voice stern, enjoying her surprise. As a warning for her to be obedient, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of her neck and sinks his teeth into her skin, hard enough to send a jolt of pain through her and mark her.

Then he returns to tying the blindfold, making sure with a few tugs that the knots are neither too tight nor too loose.

“Is this painful for you?”

“No, sir.” She sounds a little out of breath and nervous again, but her voice also carries the huskiness it adopts when she’s aroused.

“Can you see anything?”

“No, sir.”

God, it’s tempting to kiss and caress her now, maybe press his lips to every knob and indent of her spine before scraping his teeth over the small of her back and over those gorgeous globes.

But he has other plans for her, so he restricts himself to licking the spot he’s just bitten and then blowing cool air onto it. Goose bumps rise on her skin.

He inhales the flowery scent of her hair, the unique fragrance of her skin, mingling with a hint of crisp silk cloth.

“Turn around again.”

A little wobbly and off balance, Thalia turns to face him, and something about her blindfolded with his tie makes his cock twitch in anticipation.

Fuck, she looks hot like this, submissive but not too different, and definitely not uncomfortable.

“Touch me,” he commands, his voice rough. “Your sense of touch will be enhanced because you can’t rely on your eyes. I want you to run your hands all over my body and explore me as you’ve never done before.”

It takes all of his self-control not to haul her close for a kiss or fondle her breasts with their hardened tips when she starts caressing him. Her movements are tentative at first, hovering uncertainly at his shoulders. But she grows bolder with every ragged breath, her fingertips and palms traveling over his clavicles and his pecs, molding the ridges of his abs.

Emboldened by how intensely she must be feeling things and by the novelty of it all, she takes her time and really does explore him. Her nails graze over his nipples, making him moan. She glides her fingertips through the sparse hair on his chest and lower through the hints of happy trail leading south.

Fanning her hands outward, she explores his Adonis belt, tracing a vein down. Instead of moving lower, she touches his arms next, fingertips digging into his biceps when he flexes them. Her touch flutters over his wrists and palms. Interestingly, she explores his face next, studying him like a blind woman would to guess what he looks like. Her fingers brush over his high forehead and sharp cheekbones, linger on his mouth when he parts his lips and lets her seek out his teeth and tongue.

When she moves her hands to his waist and then back, wandering lower to cup his firm ass, Tom shivers in delight. Their bodies are pressed flush against each other, and it’s heaven and hell rolled into one. He grits his teeth to keep himself still, battling the need to really touch her and focuses on the subtle changes in expression on her face instead.

“On your knees,” he orders.

Thalia lowers herself unsteadily and reaches out to caress his thighs, trailing inwards to his balls, which she cups softly.

He hisses in a breath through his teeth, tensing when her fingertips massage the tender flesh and she rolls them slowly.

Probably unconsciously, her tongue wets her lips, as if she wants to run not just her hands but also her mouth all over him.

Fuck, he needs more.

With one hand at the back of her hair, half holding onto the tie’s knot and onto her hair, Tom keeps her in place.

“Open your mouth.”

Clenching his jaw, he shifts his hips a fraction so the head of his rock-hard cock brushes against her lips.

“Now explore me with your mouth.” It’s almost more of a plea than a command, and he can’t hold back a groan at the first slick of her tongue over him.

She licks away a bead of pre-come before sucking softly. Tom holds her head in place and drives his hips forward and back, sinking into the welcoming warmth of her mouth with agonizing slowness. Inch by inch, he lets her take more of him in, and it’s almost too much to handle.

Without waiting for his order, Thalia begins to lick and suck in earnest, and he can feel it in every cell of his body, the fierce longing to let go.

After a few more minutes of this sweet torture, he orders gruffly, “Stop.”

She obeys, but with a delay. Too turned on to remember punishing her, Tom yanks her up again and devours her mouth in a heady kiss that has them both moaning, biting and licking furiously.

He picks her up and half-throws her on the bed where she bounces, breasts heaving and begging for attention.

He wastes no time hunting for a condom in his wallet, tossing it onto the sheet before joining her on the bed. Crawling over her so he can cover her body with his, Tom lets her feel some of his weight.

“How was it for you?” he asks, barely able to form a rational thought and control his vocal chords.  “Did you feel everything more intensely?”

“Yes… Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Now feel this.”

He slithers down and buries his face between her luscious thighs, wasting no time in working her up into a frenzy with his talented mouth.

“Oh God, unh… ugh, fuck…” Before long, Thalia is whimpering and shouting profanities, her inability to see heightening the sensations.

Tom pauses to reach up and tweak a nipple. “Quiet, girl, or I’ll stop and leave you hanging again while I pleasure myself and come all over your helpless body! No sounds, remember?”

She nods frantically, biting her lip.

“And you’re not allowed to come until I tell you to, understand?”

When there’s only desperate and very muffled keening, he holds down her bucking hips while pinching the nipple harder. “Understand?”

“Y-yesss, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

He licks again, alternating between using the tip of his tongue and the broad flat of it, teasing and stroking. Pursing his lips around her clit, he sucks softly, which draws an animalistic sound from her.

He slows down a fraction, keeping her at the brink but not allowing her to jump off the cliff and drown into bliss.

Licking her delicious taste from his mouth, Tom moves up again. He holds her head and fumbles behind it, finally untying the silky fabric so he can stare into her beautiful dark eyes.

“More?”

Her hips still lifting and circling, she nods frantically.

“Yes. God yes, please, sir.”

Tom grins at her, frankly surprised that he hasn’t fucked her raw by this time because she’s so freaking delectable like this.

He shifts, crooking a finger at her.

“Sit up tall with your back turned to me and your lovely ass resting on your feet.”

Thalia moves as if in a trance, her whole body flushed and sweaty.

When she’s in the right position, he gives his next order. “Arms back, wrists together.”

Again, she reacts eagerly, her thighs pressing together to alleviate the ache between her legs.

“Good girl,” he praises her in a deep low tone, before giving her another love bite on the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder.

Her whimper travels straight to his cock, and he hurriedly wraps the tie around her wrists, tugging experimentally.

“Not too tight?”

“N-no, sir.”

He grabs and positions her as he wants, with her body braced on her knees and leaning forward and her ass in the air. The sight is so goddamn pretty that he can’t resist. In quick succession, he slaps both cheeks, hearing her choke on a needy drawn-out sound that’s more animal than human.

Alternating between displays of dominance and tenderness, Tom makes sure her head rests comfortably and she can breathe. He grabs the condom and sheaths himself, his hands shaking because he wants her so much. Wrapping a fistful of her hair around one hand, Tom tips her head back to whisper into her ear.

“Do you want me to take you like this, like the naughty girl you are?”

He rubs himself against her wetness, coating himself in the slick juices so he won’t hurt her.

“Hm? Do you want me to fill you so thoroughly that you think I’ve become one with you? Fuck you so hard that the guests on the whole floor will know I’m treating you well?”

Thalia moans incoherently.

“I’m afraid I can’t hear you. What was that?” He nips at her earlobe.

“Yeees.”

“Yes what, my pet? Tell your man what you want and he’ll give it to you.”

She fights for breaths and for her voice, trembling with need against him. “Please, sir, please take me like this. Make me come. Make me scream.”

Fuck, that’s hot.

Tom shifts and nudges her legs wider apart, settling on his knees behind her and giving her engorged clit a pinch that has her arch up with a mewling sound.

“You want it all?”

“Yes, sir, please.”

With one thrust, he sheaths himself fully in her, hissing at the tightness. God, it’s like he’s died and gone to heaven.

Thalia shouts, tightening around him in a vice-like grip that has him clench his jaw so hard it’s painful. When he slowly pulls out only to press himself inside to the hilt again, her shout turns into a guttural moan. He can see her body struggling to keep balance, can see her bound hands flex uselessly in search of something to hold on to.

Tom begins rocking into her, not as hard and fast as he’d like it because he’s a lot to take even with her state of arousal. From behind, he fits so incredibly well it’s as if they were built for one another.

He grabs her hip, fingers digging so deep that he’ll leave bruises. With his free hand on the back of her neck, he keeps her still while he pounds into her with all he has.

It doesn’t take her long to convulse around him, high-pitched keening telling him she’s close. Moving the hand around and letting it glide down the front of her body, he pinches a nipple before traveling lower and rubbing her slippery clit in tight circles.

Thalia arches up wildly and grows absolutely still, coming so violently around his cock that she can’t even make any noises. Tom follows close behind, feeling her milk him for all his worth.

As soon as he can somehow force breath into his lungs, he straightens and unties her wrists.

Massaging them tenderly, he peppers her back with kisses.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Never been better,” comes the weak reply after a moment, and they both have to chuckle at that.

Tom turns and embraces her, shifting so they lie side by side and he can get a good look at her face.

tom and thalia.gif

“Enough new experiences for today?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead.

She smiles, reminding him oddly of a sated and contently purring cat.

“Yea,” she giggles.  “You wore me out.”  Caressing across his brow with her thumb, she sighs contentedly.

#

Tom steps out of the shower and grabs a towel to dry himself off. His early-morning run has invigorated him – but truth be told, he knows that his good mood is mostly Thalia’s fault. This stolen day in Chicago with her has been a blessing. And he notices a subtle change in their relationship. More trust. They weren’t really the professor and his student yesterday, they were almost two normal people dating.

His blood heats at the memory of their tie play. God, she’s the hottest woman he’s ever met.

Starting to dry his hair, Tom walks into the room only to stop and admire her.

Thalia didn’t wake up when he snuck out for his run earlier, and she’s still asleep. The sheet has shifted with her movement, exposing one long, thick leg and part of her delicious curves. Her gorgeous curls are spread out on the pillow in tangles, giving her a certain wild look.

Tossing the towel aside, Tom prowls closer and slowly tugs the sheet further down. He licks his lips at the sight of her full breasts, remembering them bounce. There are faint bruises on them and on her waist where he’s sucked and bitten a little too hard, and his cock stirs at the sight of how he’s marked her.

She’s his.

And he’s hers too, even if he’s reluctant to admit that to himself. She’s wiggled her way into his life and now she’s as essential to it as his meals.

Banishing further thought, Tom leans over and shakes himself like a dog so that his wet hair sends water drops flying over her naked body.

She grunts and moves restlessly, one arm flinging out to the side. With a chuckle, he rubs his curly hair against her belly and nuzzles her breasts, spreading cool wetness over her skin.

With a small yelp, she jerks upright, hands automatically trying to fend him off.

Now laughing outright, Tom crawls on top of her and captures her wrists in his hands.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I never knew orchids need so much time until they can bloom again.”

She reacts with a half-hearted eye-roll and a stifled yawn.

“Morning,” she grumbles. “You’re already up and showered?”

He nods. “Just came back from a run, actually, while you were lost in beauty sleep. Not that you need it, as you’re beautiful enough already.”

A blush begins to rise while she mutters, “You’re much too chirpy for this time of the day. Get your morning cheerfulness away from me.”

Tom grins and licks a few water drops from her breast, deliberately avoiding her nipples.

“Adorable. But I won’t tolerate slovenly behavior, Miss Bareo.” Shifting so he can sit up, he keeps her wrists in one hand while he moves the other to draw circles around a nipple, watching it pebble.

With a sound that reminds him of a purr, Thalia stretches beneath him. She drags her gaze to the alarm clock on the nightstand and gasps. “Oh, it’s much later than I thought.”

He dips and gives the now hard bud a tender suck, which instantly makes her focus on him again.

“I guess I wore you out last night, hm?” he asks with the lift of an eyebrow.

Her blush deepens, but a sassy look enters her eyes. “If I said yes, will that convince you that I need to be pampered with a 5-star breakfast?”

Tom throws his head back, his carefree ehehehe causing her to giggle too.

“As if I needed any convincing whatsoever when it comes to breakfast.”

He grows serious momentarily, trailing his free hand down to brush ever so softly over her thighs and center.

“Are you feeling sore, darling?”

She sobers and wriggles experimentally. The slightest grimace flickers on her face, gone in an instant.

“A little?”

Tom places gentle kisses around her belly button.

“Sore in a good way, I hope?”

She smiles, and it lights his whole heart. God, he’s fallen for her so hard it’s not even funny anymore.

“In the best way.”

Telling his interested cock to calm down, he forces himself off her.

“Go and refresh yourself, love. Then we’ll have that breakfast. But before that, there’s something I want to do.”
Interest widens her eyes as she wraps the sheet around herself and rises to go to the bathroom.

Before she reaches the door, he calls out to her.  “Oh, Thalia.  Last night, when you undressed me, you were dying to say something, love; what was it?”

With a flounce she stops and turns to him, laughter bubbling from her.  “I was just thinking about you being commando all day in the biting Chicago cold.  I almost felt sorry for you,” she giggles and disappears behind the door.

Bubbling with laughter himself, Tom makes the bed half-heartedly and paces the room, practically bouncing with energy when she returns a while later, still clutching the sheet.

“Only your panties and bra,” he commands softly when she bends for her clothes.

Thalia huffs, but she knows better now than to argue.

Taking her hand, he leads her to the far side of the room and points to the table.

“Pay attention now, Miss Bareo, I’m going to introduce you to the art of making proper English tea.”

She giggles, biting her lip when he shoots her a mock-reproachful glare.

“Yes, sir, certainly, sir,” she says in her most obedient tone, and he’s seriously tempted to ditch this and explore some more naughty roleplaying with her.

But he does take his tea seriously, so…

“Now,” he holds up a finger, using his lecturing voice although he can’t help grinning a little, “the most important thing by far is to choose the correct tea. But we’re sadly lacking in choice here, so the one they provide will have to do. I usually prefer Earl Grey or breakfast tea. And tea leaves would be even better than bags, but never mind that now.”

She nods, watching him grab a tea bag.

“Next, the water.” He holds out the kettle and motions for her to go and fill it while explaining, “Using old or coldish water in the kettle can result in scummy, scaly tea. So always boil it freshly.”

“Yessir.” Thalia salutes, which earns her a slap on a butt cheek.

“Behave. Tea is almost sacred for a true Englishmen.”

She quirks a brow at him. “Oh, is that why I’m supposed to make it half-naked? Wait, wait, wouldn’t that be a sacrilege of sorts then?”

With a feigned growl of anger, Tom plants a firm kiss on her mouth. It shuts her up for the moment, though the playful gleam in her eyes stays.

“Okay. Next step. If you want to make tea in a teapot, warm the teapot with hot water first , and then add one teabag per person. This ensures that your tea will stay hot longer. But we’re using two mugs with a tea bag each. The water really needs to be boiling when you pour it, simple hot water won’t free all the aromas.”

They wait for the water to boil, Tom allowing himself to be distracted by her fingers combing through her hair.

“Right. Now pour the water into the mug and stir briefly.”

He watches her do as told, displaying the same quiet concentration he is so familiar with from her studies.

“Now we let it brew for around two minutes.” Tom pulls her in closer, his hands always hungry for her skin. He caresses her waist and the small of her back, oddly happy to be standing here with her and making tea.

They share a smile.

“Ready. Remove the tea bag now,” he instructs.

Thalia does so, yelping in surprise when he clamps his hand around her wrist.

“No, don’t squeeze the bag. It’ll just make the taste bitter.”

“Yeesh, Tom, you really do take this far too seriously,” she complains half-heartedly while dumping the soggy bags into the bin.

“And now, oh maestro of the British tea culture?”

He pinches her waist softly, motioning to the condiments.

“Now it’s time for milk and sugar. And none of that low-fat nonsense for me.”

He drops some sugar in, making sure she’s watching. Then he takes her hand and helps her add milk slowly, controlling the amount.

“You need to watch for the right colour, darling. The perfect cup of tea will have a dark orange-brown look once the milk has been added and stirred. Too little or too much will totally throw the taste off balance.”

She rolls her eyes again, which earns her a second slap on her ass, this one stinging enough to make her pout.

Tom leans in to kiss the pout off her lips.

“Done…but not totally,” he announces. “Now we’ll let it rest for around four minutes until it’s the perfect drinking temperature.”

He takes a whiff of the fragrant steam rising, and she does the same.

“Catch that slightly fruity undertone?”

She nods. “Yes, what is it?”

“It’s a pinch of bergamot that is added to Earl Grey tea. Usually we should really celebrate the tea with some digestive biscuits or jaffa cake.”

“Oh, I remember that one,” she half-squeals, eyes instantly lighting up at the mention of food. “My roommate in London made me try jaffa cake. That mix of chocolate and orange was perfect.”

Tom gives her a joyful smile. “Ah, a girl after my own heart.”

He grabs his mug. “Now come and sit on my lap while I enjoy my morning cuppa. Repeat my instructions back to me. If you get them right, I’ll treat you to a spectacular breakfast.”

#

Trying to give her the privacy she deserves for her phone call, Tom places his earbuds in his ears while he checks over his flight information to return home the next day.  He shouldn’t have been concerned.  Her whole conversation is in Spanish, and he finally realizes she’s talking to her father.  Listening as the words roll from her tongue fluently he eavesdrops as she tells her father about enjoying a day on the town with a friend.  He can detect her father’s worry she didn’t return home when she sweetly reminds him she’s an adult and can be trusted in her decisions.  He keeps his head low as she watches him from across the room, blushing lightly when she explains to her father in her native tongue of Spanish, “He’s special dad, and you’d really like him, but it’s too soon in the relationship to meet family.”  His air of indifference holds until his laughter bursts out when she raises her voice to her father, shouting with frustration in Spanish, “God, yes we use condoms; I’m not stupid!”

Her head jerks to him and she blushes, shaking her head.  Ending the call quickly, she says defiantly.  “Shit, I should have known you were fluent… The way you roll your damn tongue,” she winks.  Sighing, she finishes.  “Dad’s a little old-fashioned; he gets I’m not a virgin, but he likes to meet my boyfriends.  He hates I went to school so far away from home, but it was the best choice for my studies… I know we’re a little non-traditional, you and I, so I’m not expecting you to meet my parents.”

He nods, crossing the room to her and hugging her close.  Meeting her parents and all a relationship should entail for a young woman…  Damn, he chides himself for the hundredth time, what am I doing?  Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he decides to set his thoughts aside for his solitary return trip home.

“Which museum shall we hit today darling?”

Click here to read Chapter 13, Alone

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Naughty Girl

et ch 5

Educating Thalia: Chapter 5

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

@devikafernando and @avenger-nerd-mom are presenting a collaboration together involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans! The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago

Click here for the novella, Educating Thalia

Word count: 2415

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom Tom, spanking, oral sex, fingering, edging, denied orgasm

Summary:  Professor Tom calls Thalia into his office to punish her for her behavior in class

Tom paces like a caged tiger in his office, waiting for the endless ten minutes to pass. When he hears a knock on the door, he dashes behind his desk and sits down, telling himself he needs to retain at least a pretense at control.

“Come in.”

Thalia enters, looking not the least bit remorseful.

“Lock the door,” he orders quietly and sees her eyes widen and darken.

She does as told, then walks to his desk and rests a hand on her broad hip.

“You wanted to see me, Tom?”

He grips the desk hard to keep himself from either snarling at her or kissing her senseless. How about both?

It rubs him the wrong way that she calls him Tom in this situation, but it goes with the defiant lift of her chin and hand on her hip. Why is that a turn-on when he should be mad at her?

Tom swallows, but he can barely keep it together.

“Why are you wearing this?” he barks, gesturing harshly towards her skimpy plaid skirt and the rest of her ball-busting outfit.

Thalia opens her eyes wide, long lashes fluttering.

“Um, why do I wear clothes? Would you rather I came to class naked?”

Despite his emotional state, he can’t help chuckle at that, and her answering grin is way too sexy.

“Naked is always better.” He leans forward, long fingers rubbing his jaw. “In fact, if I could have a say in things, I’d lock you up in a luxury suite and have you spend a whole day parading around in front of me in your birthday suit. Now that would be a sight to behold, don’t you think, darling?”

A flush creeps up her neck, and Thalia sucks in a breath.

Pleased that he’s slowly getting the upper hand again, Tom leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He has ditched the jacket, wearing only a ratty grey V-neck T-shirt, and he sees her gaze admire the way it stretches across his biceps.

He hasn’t told her to sit down, and he isn’t planning to do so any time soon.

“You know what I mean,” he admonished. “Why the hell did you choose this outfit and let all those wankers ogle you? Didn’t I make myself clear that you’re mine?”

His voices drops into a lower register at the last word, practically growling ‘mine’ because she makes him feel so possessive.

He notices the effect those words have on her, but her defiant expression slips only momentarily. She steps closer and plants her hands on the desk, giving him a view of her cleavage that has him choke back a groan.

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. Not in that way.”

He hauls in a deep breath through flaring nostrils, her orchid scent hardening his cock even more.

Fixing her in a stern glare through his glasses, he struggles desperately to keep control. There’s a tiny hint of anger in her voice, which makes him wonder whether he’s gone too far.

“I didn’t mean it like that. But you’ve never been a flirt,” he tries to reason with her. “Why now?”

Thalia straightens up and rolls her eyes, and he’s ever so tempted to put her over his lap and spank her for the rude gesture.

“I swear, Professor Hiddleston, sometimes you’re a bit slow to catch on,” she mutters, and he’s out of his chair and by her side in a flash.

Gripping her chin firmly but not painfully, he jerks her head up and leans so close she can feel his breath on her face.

“Careful, young lady. Have you forgotten who’s made you scream so beautifully and come all over the place?”

Her throat works, and her pupils dilate, but she stands her ground.

“I haven’t forgotten a thing,” she says after a moment, and this time her voice is laced with anger and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hurt? Disappointment?

“But it seems you’ve chosen to forget I even exist.” The words come out in a rush, almost as if she’d rather keep them in.

She yanks her chin out of his grip and takes a step back, but Tom follows and cages her in against the desk, like a wild cat stalking his prey.

“What do you mean?” he half-growls, knowing full well what she’s talking about but needing her to admit it.

She makes a frustrated sound and folds her arms over her ample bosom.

“I wore this outfit for you today, believe it or not.” She scoffs, but her eyes tell a different story. “Because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me. I wanted to make you see what you could have if you’d just own up to it.”

Tom’s eyebrows rise before he scowls. He grabs her arms and pulls her into him, gratified when she lets him hug her without any resistance.

“Darling, you have no idea how difficult it was to behave like that, to create a distance between us?  Believe me, if I could, I’d be all over you, all the time. I’d make you wish I would ignore you so you could have a moment to breathe. But we can’t. Surely you understand that.”

He tightens his hold on her, content for a moment to simply embrace her and feel her curves against his hardness. Tugging on her braid, he leans her head back a fraction to gaze into her troubled eyes.

“You want me to own up? Really? And that would get us where exactly? Hm?”

After a moment, she lowers her eyes and sighs. “I know, I just…”

“I understand,” he whispers and rubs her back in a soothing caress.

When he steps away and takes her hands in his, she stares at him full of expectations, and the look in her eyes nearly slays him. God, how he wishes things were different between them, although it’s also a thrill to have this forbidden edge to what they’re doing.

“Never doubt that I want you,” he tells her sincerely. “You’re on my mind all the time, and I want to curse you for the power you wield over me.”

He cups her face, pleased when she leans her cheek into his touch. “Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,” he quotes from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream—then wishes he didn’t say it because he’s dropped the l-bomb and it’s totally inappropriate for whatever magical connection they’re sharing.

But as so often, Thalia seems to get what he’s trying to convey.

“Then show me how much you want me,” she says, a husky demand that makes his cock twitch.

Tom rubs his thumb over her lower lip and tugs it down a little. He dips it in further, brushes it over her teeth and the tip of her tongue and watches her eyes grow dark and shiny.

“You want me to show you?”

She nods eagerly, then recalls his earlier instructions and pleads, “Yes, please.”

Jesus, this woman is his undoing.

Tom steps back so abruptly she sways towards him before she catches herself.

“Turn around,” he commands, fighting hard to keep the upper hand, although he wants nothing more than to make her his again and become hers in the process.

“Bend over, arms on the desk, ass in the air.”

Thalia shivers but does as he says. Her position makes her look deliciously compromised, the short skirt baring a flash of red panties.

With a start, Tom realizes that the black tights are gone and he’s been much too preoccupied to notice it earlier. A smirk curls his thin lips.

“You really are a naughty girl.” he says softly, watching her shift and squirm a little. “Couldn’t wait to prance into my office and try your hand at seduction, could you? Are you dying to have my hands on your legs? Or maybe my mouth in between them?”

The only answer he gets is a suppressed whimper, so soft that he almost misses it.

He runs the tips of his fingers over her now bare thigh, first on the outside and then on the inside, almost touching her pantyline.

Thalia shivers. He repeats the teasing movement, letting his nails gently rake over her skin this time.

“Answer me. Are you a naughty girl?”

He can hear her breathing harder. For a moment, she remains silent. Then she replies in a half-defiant, half-needy voice, “Yes. I’ve been naughty…sir.”

Licking his lips, Tom takes a step closer.

“And you know what happens to naughty girls, right?”

Another pause. Will his smart Thalia get what he’s waiting for?

“They…they get punished?”

It comes out sounding like a question, but it’s a huge turn-on nevertheless.

“That’s right,” he whispers darkly.

Carefully controlling himself, Tom leans forward and drapes his body over hers. He pushes his hips up against her, rubbing his bulge against her peachy cheeks. Both of them hiss at the tantalizing friction.

He grabs her braid and pulls her head up and back for a kiss that is passionate and demanding. Biting her lip almost hard enough to cause her pain, he withdraws. After gliding his fingers through her hair and over her nape, using his nails again to awaken goose bumps on her sensitive skin, he pushes her head down so it rests on one forearm.

“Stay exactly like this. I don’t want to hear a sound from you, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, her lips pressed against her own arm.

Fuck, how is he supposed to keep his wits around her?

Breathing in deeply a few times, he moves away enough to lift her skirt above her ass. He licks his lips at the sight of the gorgeous globes he grabbed so greedily a few days ago. Softly, he brushes his fingertips over the fire-engine-colored material of her panties, then rubs against the seams so he’s barely touching her naked flesh.

“Not a sound,” he repeats his warning, and he can feel her tense, the muscles in her thighs and butt clenching invitingly.

Lifting his arm, he lands a resounding smack on one ass cheek, causing her to rear up with a startled squeaky gasp.

Tom makes a tutting sound and pushes her back down, gently but firmly.

“Not a single sound, Thalia. This is your punishment for being so naughty and making the lecture hell for me to live through.”

He rubs his hand soothingly over the redness of the slapped cheek, although he hasn’t hit her hard enough to leave finger marks.

Waiting until she looks less tense, he lands a slightly harder blow on the other cheek, and this time he can see her bite her forearm to muffle her sound of unwilling arousal.

Oh yes, she’s taking this well. It makes him consider a true spanking, but he reins in his thoughts before his libido will get the better of him.

“And this is punishment for making me have to endure thoughts of you dressed like this for the rest of the day.”

Before she has time to recover, he lands two quick slaps on each ass cheek, grinding out through clenched teeth, “And these are for making it a plaid skirt and knowing damn fucking well what it would do to me.”

Thalia moans softly when he soothes the sting, and he shushes her before squatting down.

“And this,” he says in a gravelly voice before sucking her inner thigh hard enough to leave a mark, “is to show you how much I want you.”

Without warning, he licks her from behind, his tongue gliding over her damp panties.

Thalia bucks against him but keeps quiet, so he gives her another stroke of his tongue over her lace-clad folds. He uses his hands to spread her thighs before nudging the now drenched fabric aside with two fingers.

Leaning in, he blows air onto her wet pussy, chuckling at her full-body shiver. But he can’t deny himself and her the pleasure any longer.

Tom buries his tongue inside her, licking and probing and thrusting until she’s a writhing mass of muffled desperate sounds and he’s so turned on he feels like exploding.

He lifts a hand to press his finger against her engorged clit, not rubbing or stroking but just adding enough pressure to make her stifled whimpers louder. Gone are all thoughts of keeping her quiet or reprimanding her because he’s lost in her taste and the thrill of the moment. Angling his head, Tom lets his tongue delve in as deep as it can get and fucks her with it until she’s clenching around him.

With an obscenely wet sound, he pulls back and gives her one last thorough lick, leaving her hanging right on the brink of orgasm.

For a moment, Thalia remains like this, and he feasts his eyes on her glistening cunt, contracting desperately on nothing.

“Tom, please,” she whines, raising her head. “Oh God, I’m so close, just… please…”

He stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, quirking an eyebrow at her pleading expression when she looks at him over her shoulder. He likes it that she’s not really daring to move, although she’s defied his order for silence.

“What’s the matter, darling? Do you need something?” he asks, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Her sound of frustration tempts his resolve, but he steels himself against the urge to please her, knowing that his reward will be glorious later.

“Please, Tom, make me come. I need to… uh, dammit, Tom…”

As if nothing has happened, he brushes her panties into place and tugs her skirt back down, taking extra care to touch her and make matters worse.

“Oh, no, darling, no coming for you just now. You need to be a good girl for me to allow you to climax, and you were far too naughty today.”

He pulls her into a standing position, noticing how weak-kneed and flushed she is. Moving a tendril of hair behind her ear with painful tenderness, he takes her mouth in another passionate kiss so she can taste herself on his tongue.

“Ever heard of delayed gratification, love?” he asks her with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

Thalia stares at him, chest heaving. If looks could kill, he’d be dropping dead right about now.

With a chuckle, he smooths his hands over her clothes and yanks on the skirt’s hem so it covers a fraction more of her thighs.

“Now off you go like an obedient little college girl to attend your lectures.”

He turns her around by her shoulders and steers her towards the door. While he leans over to open the lock, he whispers into her ear, “I’ll text you this evening. Be ready at around 8 to go to the address I’m sending you. I promise, I’ll make the waiting worth it, darling.”

Tom steps away from her and opens the door – only to find one of his colleagues, Professor Evans from the history department, standing there with his fist raised to knock.

Thalia lowers her head, half hiding her face as she walks away quickly.

“Remember to have the details ready by tomorrow,” Tom calls after her, hoping to God his voice sounds normal and that the smell of sex between them isn’t evident in the air.

He turns to his colleague Chris and gives him a polite nod.

“Evans.”

The professor with his scruffy jaw and close-cropped hair quirks an eyebrow at him and smirks.

“Hiddleston. Found someone to do all the work for you, have ya?”

Tom is used to jibes from him, so he lets it slide.

“Thalia is…a very special student of mine,” he says in as neutral a tone as he can manage. “Now, how may I help you?”

Click here for Chapter 6, Just a Girl

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Good Girl

ET chap 3.jpg

Good Girl

Educating Thalia, Chapter 3

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

Word count 2561

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, glasses kink (it’s a thing!),  blow job, fingering, nipple play, intercourse, Dom Tom

Summary: Professor Tom and grad student, Thalia Bareo, retreat to the privacy of his office

Click here for previous chapter, Library Seductions

His hands are shaking when he fumbles with the key to unlock the door. Bloody hell, it’s as though she’s seduced him and not the other way round.

As soon as they’re inside, Tom closes the door and pushes her against it.

“You have to forgive me,” he says, registering the surprise on her face.

“But…but I wanted it,” she stutters.

With a smirk, he grabs her hands and braces them against the cool wood above her head.

“Oh, not for making you come. I intend to do that a few times more before I’m done with you.”

A new blush stains her freckled cheeks and he follows the color with the tip of his tongue.

“What I mean is I should have done this first.”

Before she can respond, he takes her mouth in a demanding kiss.

She opens for him immediately, and he slides his tongue inside to seek hers out.

Holding her hands above her head with a grip around her wrists, he lets his free hand snake between their bodies to cup a full breast. The tips are hard peaks beneath the fabric, begging to be pinched and sucked.

He rubs his thumb over and around one nipple, making her buck against him. Deepening the kiss, he gets high on her unique taste again.

Damn it all, finesse is going out the window with her.

Reining himself in with enormous willpower, Tom slows the kiss to a sensual dance and glide of tongues while he kneads a breast. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and tugs softly before resting his forehead against hers.

“God, Thalia, what you do to me. I want you so badly.”

She rubs herself against him. “I want you too, Tom. I’ve been dreaming of this for months.”

The admission has her lower her long lashes, but it only makes him even harder.

Stepping back, he holds out his hand. When she grabs it, their fingers interlacing as if it is the most natural thing in the world, he leads her further into the room, hitting the light switch because he wants to really look at her.

His office is surprisingly big, holding a desk with chairs, some shelves and old leather sofas, and an artificial fireplace with a rug. He pulls her over to its warm glow.

“Strip for me, love. I need to see you in all your curvy beauty.”

He can almost hear her thoughts, sees a flicker of uncertainty in her chocolate-brown eyes. His fingertips brush over her cheek and throat before diving into the hint of exposed cleavage.

“You do know you’re stunning, don’t you? I could look at you all day and come up with a dozen dirty things I’d like to do to you.”

His gravelly whisper echoes in the silence of the room, and she reacts with a shiver.

Slowly, she pulls her sweater over her head, leaving her in a pink lace-and-satin bra that can barely contain her big breasts. She opens the front clasp and the plump globes fall out, making him suppress a groan. It takes all of his self-control not to ravish her.

Biting her lip, Thalia shimmies out of her skirt, and he can’t help but ogle her for a minute.

So. Fucking. Beautiful.

Like those old paintings of women who had real bodies and were built to be loved so thoroughly they couldn’t walk for days.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, seeing the flush spread from her face all over her tanned body with its dips and curves begging to be explored.

She doesn’t cover herself, and it pleases him oddly that she isn’t as shy as she could have been.

“You next.” It’s more of a request than an order, but he complies with an eagerness that surprises him. Her naturally husky voice sounds even sultrier right now, as if she’s letting out a side of herself that is wild and free, enticing and purely feminine. Begging to be tamed, yet essentially untameable.

In a flash, he’s shrugged out of his sweater. He takes his glasses out of the pocket to put them aside safely on a nearby armrest.

“Tom… I… would you…” Thalia falters and blushes an even deeper shade of red.

Interesting.

“Darling, what is it? Talk to me. Never be afraid to share anything with me.”

She swallows hard and meets his gaze only for a moment.

“Would you…leave the glasses on for a bit?”

Whoa. Did she have a glasses kink? Holy shit, she was even hotter than he’d imagined.

“Like that, hm?” He quirks an eyebrow at her. “Okay, but you’ll have to be an extra good girl for me then, do you understand?”

She nods so eagerly it would have been comical in a different situation.

“What did I tell you, love? I need to hear you.”

“Yes, sir,” she replies quickly. “I’ll be a really good girl.”

Her words travel straight to his cock, making him rock-hard.

Tom puts his glasses on and leans over to kiss her until she’s moaning and restless in his arms. Then he takes a step back again and moves his hands to his belt. Slowly, he unbuckles it, then unzips his jeans and pulls them down.

Keeping his white boxers on, he bridges the distance between them to embrace her and kiss her senseless. He takes one of her hands and places it over his bulge, the tip of his cock peeking out over the top of the boxers. She slides her finger over it and rubs the drop of precum over the tip, and Tom sucks in a ragged breath.

He pushes her shoulders and she gets the message, sinking to her knees on the carpet.

God, he likes that sight entirely too much.

“Take them off,” he commands softly, his muscles tensing when her fingers dip under the waistband and lower his underwear so he can step out of it.

Before he can draw a breath, much less say anything, he feels her wet, hot mouth on his cock. She encircles the broad tip and gives it an experimental suck, and he realizes he’s cursing a blue streak. When she lets go to run her tongue up his impressive length instead, he fists his hands in her hair and pulls her forward.

“Taste me.”

She obeys, lowering her mouth down over him again, taking him far but not to her throat.

Once, twice, three times, he moves her up and down by her hair before tugging her head away.

He’s way too eager to be inside her for this to go on for long.

“Good girl.”

She presses her thick thighs together at that, as if his words make her throb.

Without wasting another moment, Tom joins her on the floor. He spreads out their clothes and makes her lie back.

“God, those tits are amazing, darling,” he purrs, taking the heavy globes in his hands and nuzzling them. “Made for being fondled and sucked and bitten.”

He proceeds to do just that, earning himself breathless gasps and tiny mewling sounds, making him impossibly harder for her.

Thalia hooks a leg around his waist to draw him closer, her hips rising to meet his. Tom lets a hand drift down to tug softly at her trimmed, damp curls before sliding his fingers through her folds and finding her swollen clit.

“Let’s get you ready, darling. I need you to be able to take all of me.”

Sucking her dark nipples in earnest, Tom slides a finger inside her. He keeps up a steady rhythm, adding another finger and then another. Curling them, he searches for the magical spot that will make her see stars.

She’s bucking and moaning beneath him, her head tossing from side to side.

When she suddenly freezes and shouts out a single, heartfelt “fuck”, he knows he’s found her G-spot. Chuckling darkly, he angles his fingers so they brush over it again and again while he starts rubbing tight circles over her clit.

“Let go for me, love,” he growls. “I want to hear my name when you come apart.”

He keeps the torture up until she’s a panting mess, his name rushing out in ragged pleas. When he presses down harder on her little bud while sinking his teeth into a nipple, Thalia clamps a hand over her mouth and comes with a muffled scream.

Tom soothes her through her second climax, slowing his movement and licking her breasts. He withdraws and scrapes his teeth over her collarbone before kissing her.

When he draws back, she whimpers her protest and reaches for him, her eyes snapping open.

“Tom?  Please, I…I need more.”

“I’ll give you more, darling, don’t you worry. So much more. Just a second.”

After removing his glasses, he bends towards his pants, takes out his wallet and returns to her side with a condom. He can feel her eyes on him like burning flames when he sheathes himself.

Settling himself between her thighs, he holds her face in one hand and stares into her eyes.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and deep, but not as steady as he would have liked it because he’s crazy with need. “Mine.”

Tom nudges his way in, hissing at her tightness. Thalia gasps and claws at his shoulders, her hips bucking up to take another inch of him. He knows his size can be a bit overwhelming, so he starts out with shallow thrusts, slowly working his way deeper. As soon as there is less resistance, he grabs her thigh and bends her leg so he can plunge in to the hilt.

“Ah… Tom… ohgodohgodohgod…”

He grinds his teeth against the urge to pound into her and sets a steady, torturing rhythm. Her body moves in sync with his and she leans up for a kiss that he gives her all too willingly.

When he’s sure he’ll go raving mad if he can’t lose control soon, Tom shifts and grinds as deep as he can get, his pelvis providing friction against her clit.

“Oh, fuck… Oh god… yes… More!”

Thalia is becoming more and more vocal, and he loves it. Clenching his jaw so tightly it’s painful, he tries to keep up the punishing pace. Dammit, with the way she is clenching around him, he isn’t going to last much longer.

Snaking a strong arm around her, he rolls them over until he’s on his back and she’s straddling him.

Holy shit, the sight of her like this is even better than of her writhing beneath him and begging for more.

“Ride me, darling.”

He pushes his hips up a little to sink back into her, making them both moan.

But she’s motionless on top of him, her hair a wild mane around her and her lips swollen from his kisses. She doesn’t have to speak, he can sense her uncertainty.

Again, he wonders how much experience she might or might not have.

Tom sits up and rubs his face against her breasts, knowing that his five o’clock shadow – make that a ten o’clock shadow – would be tickling and scratching the sensitive skin just the right way. He licks a pebbled nipple before giving it a nip and feeling her clamp down on him.

Grasping her chin in one hand, he forces her to look at him through heavy lids.

“Don’t be shy, Thalia. You’re a drop-dead gorgeous, sensual woman. You’re allowed to take too, not just give. This isn’t about me getting off, this is about us finding all kinds of ways to pleasure each other.”

He kisses her, and she immediately pushes her tongue into his mouth, whimpering softly – probably torn between what her body instinctively wants and what her brain tells her.

“I want you to forget everything you’ve done before, forget every boy who made you think you’re not enough and every moment in which you doubted yourself. Do you hear me? Focus only on us and let the real you out. Can you be a good girl for me and do that?”

He lifts his hips a fraction again, sliding deeper with a groan.

“Yes.” The one word is a drawn-out sigh, and one of her hands fists in his short hair to drag his head back to her heaving bosom.

With a secret smile, Tom slicks his tongue over a nipple before sucking so hard it will lace pleasure with a hint of pain. Thalia makes a strangled sound and tugs at his hair.

He lies back down and rests his hands on her ample hips, which will be perfect for him to dig his fingers into once she lets her inner cowgirl out.

“Ride me, love,” he commands quietly again.

This time, she starts moving, and it’s every bit as tantalizing as he’d hoped for. Slow grinding motions turn into something more frenzied quickly, and soon she’s undulating her body and sinking down on his cock as if her life depends on it.

“Fuck, darling, that’s it,” he grinds out huskily. “Take it all. Ride me into oblivion and make yourself come all over my cock. You look amazing like this, with your luscious, big tits bouncing.”

She moans louder, one hand going to a breast to pinch an engorged nipple.

Oh yes, his darling girl likes a bit of dirty talk, as if she couldn’t get any more perfect.

He’s dying to take control again, but this is almost better, seeing her discover her hidden sexual confidence and knowing that he’s the cause for her awakening.

He enlaces her fingers with his and pulls her hand to his face where he sucks two fingers into his mouth to wet them. Then he brings their joined hands to her cunt and rubs her clit.

Her lips part on a scream, and she’s as tight as a vice around his cock.

She lowers her gaze to watch their fingers circling and pressing, and her movements become faster, her whimpers more desperate. When she throws her head back, chokes out his name and lets go, it’s a sight he’s certain he’ll never forget.

Digging his hands into her love handles, he slams up into her and rides out her climax, which triggers his.

It takes him a moment to come back down to earth. Fucking hell, he can’t remember coming so hard in ages.

Shifting, he gathers Thalia’s now limp, sweaty body closer and pulls her to lie by his side, facing one another.

“That…that was amazing,” she sighs, wide eyes seeking his.

Tom smiles and brushes moist strands of hair out of her face.

You were amazing,” he corrects her before kissing her sweetly.

He tries his best to shove the satisfied exhaustion away because there’s something he needs to say.

“Thalia, I want you to know that you’re not just some convenient lay for me. Not at all. You’re special.”

The light in her eyes urges him on. “I read this somewhere once, and I firmly believe in it: ‘In the hands of the right man, a woman is a hundred different women, limited only by imagination and his willingness to make her feel safe and lead her.’”

Pulling her even closer, he whispers, “I want to be that man for you. I’ll make you discover all those hundred women inside you and learn to love them.”

Click here for Chapter 4, Lecture Lust

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

 

Healing Hands

healing hands USE jan 15 2017.jpg

A Chris Evans fan fic

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and his girlfriend get caught in an ice storm while on a romantic getaway.  Chris is worried about her health and does everything he can think of to help her feel better.  If he doesn’t Dodger might just attack him

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, fluff, concern, NSFW, drinking, anal play, daddy kink, dom/domme behaviors, finger fucking, penetration, pull out method, no condoms

Word count: 4212

He sneaks up on her quietly as she sits in front of the fireplace, sweetly whispering to Dodger in her lap.  He cringes when he hears the cough rumble in her chest and she heaves to catch her breath.  He winces at her perceived pain.  “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.  This isn’t really what I had in mind for our romantic getaway.”

He sits quickly and offers up his apologies.  Dodger lifts his head, looking at his owner, his eyes pleading with him to help her.  “I hear ya, Bud.  There’s no medicine in the place.  I searched every cabinet and drawer.  All I could find was this.”  He holds up the dusty bottle of whiskey and two small jelly jars he found in the kitchen.

Her burst of laughter breaks into coughs and he pats her back.  Her eyes water and she giggles quietly.  “Likely story.  You’ve been wanting to get me drunk from the minute we started dating and I told you I’ve never even had a shot.”

He kisses the tip of her nose, blushing at the truth to her statement.  “Whiskey is on old-time medication, it’ll definitely sooth the pain.”

“Or I’ll be so drunk, I won’t care.”  She laughs, caressing the side of his cheek, scratching at his beard.  “You need a trim.”

Chris shrugs.  “Ah, I gotta shave it off soon enough.  I’m doing the mountain man thing this week, just for you, babe.”  He stretches out his arms to show off the tight Henley and flannel plaid and she leans against his chest.

“I love my man in plaid,” she chokes out and he caresses her hair back over her shoulder and rubs down her spine as another series of coughs wracks through her little body.

He feels just awful. Their time together is always so rushed and sporadic.  She hadn’t been able to get away at the holidays, so they’d compromised with a mid winter getaway to a cabin owned by a friend of his.  He wasn’t expecting an ice storm to hit, followed by a large snow.  The power lines had snapped on their second morning in the cabin, and now on the third night her cold had turned worse.  He’d tried earlier to get the car out, but there was no where to go.  All the shops in the village down the mountain were closed and they were pretty secluded from the outside world.  Fortunately his phone service worked, and he’d been able to inform friends and family they were safe and sound, but he really was concerned for the rattle in her chest and wanted to get her back to civilization as soon as possible.

“Stop thinking.  You’re too loud.  I’m fine,” she wheezes.  “Pour me a shot.  Let’s do this.”

She sits up and rolls her eyes as his look of concern takes on a mischievous grin.

“Go ahead.  Rub your hands together gleefully like the villain in old cartoon about to steal the innocent virtue of the fair maiden.  I know you’re dying to,” she teases.

He throws his head back in a hearty laugh, but stops when her laughter brings on another series of deep coughs.  He shakes his head, “Stop that!”  He rubs her arms and scolds her.  “Don’t laugh at me; it makes you cough.”

“Telling me not to laugh at you is like telling Dodger not to bark at birds in the yard.  I can’t help it.  Your laughter is infectious. It’s one of the things I love about you.”  She dips her head and smiles up at him sweetly.  “It’s one of the first things about you when we met that I was attracted to.”

“Not my charming personality or my bulging muscles?”  He flexes his arm for her and she turns up her nose.

She shakes her head and holds up her jelly glass. “Not too much… No. None of those things.  Those things actually make you a dick sometimes,” she giggles.  “It was watching you at my niece’s party laugh and play with the kids on the swingset for an hour and you never wore out or got tired.  That’s my Chris.  That’s my fantasy and the man I want.  The Hollywood you can go to hell.” She coughs again and smiles wryly.  “But it’s time to get back to work.  You’re getting soft.  Been sitting on your ass too long.”

“Man, you really know how to kick a man, don’t you,” he chuckles.  “Yes, ma’am.  On it.  Back to work ASAP.”  He salutes her before pouring a fair amount of the dark amber liquid into her glass.  “How is it you’ve made it to this point in your life, you were a college sorority girl, and you’ve never been drunk or had a shot before?”

“Smart life choices.”  She taps him on the nose with each word and he smiles.  “Oh my God, this fuckin’ stinks.  It’s like paint thinner.” She complains and screw ups her face.

He smiles at her expression and his heart flutters.  “Don’t smell it.” He pours himself a larger drink.  “Just knock it back.”

She stares at the liquid and swishes it around.  Dodger lifts his head to watch her and he even pulls back from the smell and brushes his paw over his nose.  “Right, bud?  Can you believe Daddy willingly drinks this shit?”

“Fuck, babe.  Don’t call me Daddy unless you mean it,” Chris moans in frustration and adjusts his jeans to prove his point.

She chuckles and does her best to hold in her cough, trying to hide her blush.  “Damn you, I didn’t mean it like that.”  She tosses her head back and her curls cascade down her back as she lifts the glass to her lips and downs it all in one choked gulp.  She sputters and lifts her head upright and cringes at the taste, wiping her mouth on the back of her wrist.  “Fuuuuck, that burns.”

Chris lifts the glass to his lips.  He watches her closely as her eyes follow his movements, and he chugs his shot down quickly.  He laughs as she holds her hand to her chest, still shuddering from the burn of the whiskey.

“That’s awful,” she whispers.  “Why?  Why would you chose to drink that for fun?”

Chris moves closer to her and Dodger growls at him lowly.  “Hey man, she’s my girl too.  Watch it.  I’m not gonna hurt her, relax Bud.”  Dodger bares his teeth and Chris taps him on the nose.  “Enough of that.  You go.”

Dodger nudges her hand and she tugs on his ear gently.  “It’s okay, you’re not in trouble.  Go sleep.”  The protective mutt rises from his spot and stretches slowly, irritating Chris on purpose.  She coughs and chuckles and taps the dog playfully on his hindquarters to get him moving faster.  “Go now,” she commands and he totters away, his back legs stiff from his interrupted nap.

“Damn dog,” he grumbles.  “Likes you more than he likes me.”  Chris adjusts the pillows behind him, and leans back against the couch.  “Are you warm enough?” he asks as he pours two more shots, handing her another.

She shakes her head no, trying to refuse the little glass. Chris doesn’t give her choice. “You’re still coughing.  Tonight it’s not meant to be fun.  It’s to help you get better until we can get to the store or a doctor and get you some medicine.”  He holds the glass to her until she willingly takes it and chokes it back.

“No more.”  She spits out, scrunching up her face again.  She covers her hand over her mouth and breaths in.  “God, it’s on my breath.  It stinks.”

“Hush,” he drinks his glass and gently pulls her to him.  “You complain a lot.”  She rests against his chest and plays with the buttons on his shirt.

She bows her head sheepishly.  “I’m sorry.  I’m kinda ruining our romantic getaway, aren’t it?  You’ve done everything.  All I’ve done is sleep, cough and sneeze.  You’ve been chopping firewood- very sexy to watch from the window, I might add- gathering food we can cook over the fireplace.  Thank god for hotdogs and popcorn,” she giggles. “And I’m glad you carried the mattress down here.  The loft would be too cold.”

She reaches her arm up and pulls another blanket off the couch from behind him and he helps adjust it over the top of them.  He doesn’t want to admit to her that he’s too warm under her body and the blankets and the heat of the blazing fire.  After the blanket is settled, he tugs under her ass and shifts her body higher against his, resting his denim covered cock between her legs.  She’s weightless on top of him and he loves being her big, strong protector.

He wishes she could see what he sees right now.  Under the haze of a slight fever, her eyes warm from the liquid fire she ingested and glints of hazel and green sparkle back at him as she searches his face.  Her lips are plump and ripe for the taking.  And the smell of the whiskey on her breath begs to be savored.  He pulls her close and kisses her tenderly, not wanting to take all her air but needing to share his with her.  Her lips part so she can breath and he continues to caress her bottom lip between his as a breathy moan escapes the back of her throat.

She snakes her hands from between them and wraps one around his neck and slides the other lower, down the row of buttons on his shirt, stopping at the waist of his pants..  His bottom lip resting against hers, he whispers.  “No, you need sleep.  We can play later.”

She whines her complaint and he chuckles, kissing her again.  She moves her hand and grabs his hip, sighing.  “I really am sleepy.”  She kisses him again, sucking in all of his air to her desperate lungs before separating with a smack.  “Thank you for breathing for me,” she chuckles.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He kisses her forehead before gently pushing her to the side, snuggling her next to his body and adjusting her in the crook of his arm.  “You realize you haven’t coughed in nearly five minutes?”

“Yes, fine, oh wise one.  The whiskey worked.  You were right.  I’ll cross-stitch it on a pillow for you.” The little blonde pokes him in the ribs.  “Don’t get too used to hearing me say that.  But I’ll make you a commemorative keepsake.  I’ll date it and everything.”

“Well, damn.  You’re rambling like a woman who might be a little tipsy.”  He laughs warmly, the shake of his body jiggling both of them.  His foot wiggles from under the blankets.

“Shut up and kick off your socks.  I know you want to,” she laughs, snuggling up into his neck and inhaling deeply.  “You smell so good.  Like cologne, firewood and snow.  Better than a candle,” she mumbles.  “So sleepy…”

Dodger raises his head and gives a happy bark before resting his head on his paws again, curled in front of the hearth.  Chris tips his head to the dog, indicating they both have watch over their girl for the night.  Chris tries not to shift away from her damp breath on his neck but he knows he needs to keep her warm through the night.  He’s worried about her becoming more sick before the morning.

#

Hours later, the wheeze has returned to her lungs and her chest heaves for breath.  He can feel each labored cough as they slowly build again.  The fire has died down, and Dodger is curled up on her other side to keep her warm.  Chris slides out from under her and smiles at the quiet whistle she makes from her congestion.  She would be so embarrassed, but he finds it just  adorable.  She’s always so tough and strong and this vulnerable state is endearing.  She’d probably punch his arm if he told her, so he’ll keep his thoughts to himself.  While covering his feet with his socks, Dodger lifts his head and yawns.  Chris puts his finger to his lips, as if the dog really understands.  The pup lays his head back down over her hip and whimpers quietly.  Chris pats the mutt’s head affectionately, knowing he’s leaving her in good care.

The power is still out.  A quick check of his phone tells him the time, but to conserve the battery he shuts it back down.  Piling on the old army jacket and silly fur hat he found earlier in the day, he heads out to the back porch to bring in more firewood.  He is startled by a doe and her fawn foraging under the tree and stands to watch for a moment before they run off across the valley.   He’s pretty sure he hears coyotes baying in the distance. The air is cold and stings his lungs while he quickly gathers enough wood to last till sunrise.

Returning to the chilled living room, he quietly places the wood in the fire and stokes the flames, Dodger and his love sound asleep.  He makes a stop in the bathroom and changes into comfortable sweatpants before foraging in the kitchen of the small hand crafted cabin.  Taking a water bottle from the cooler he finds her more aspirin.  Nibbling on the chocolate cake they brought from the bakery, he realizes he’s not really in top shape to go back to work.  A few more days of splitting firewood should do the trick.  Through the cold night air seeping through the chinked paneled walls he can hear trees bending and cracking under the pressure of the ice.

Stepping into the living room-

“Sweet Jesus.”  His heart stops at the sight in front of the fireplace.

Her bare bottom is raised up in the air, as she rests on her knees, face down on the mattress, her arms folded over above her head.  At least twelve thoughts- only twelve?- roam through his mind and he thanks God quietly she is faithful about attending her yoga class.  A quick look around the room has Dodger in his kennel, out of sight, and the jelly glasses lined up on the hearth, hers empty and his ready to go. Trying to find his voice and not sound as off balance as she’s thrown him, he murmurs lowly.  “Can I do something to help you?”

“I can’t sleep.  I thought you might be able to wear me out,” she offers, turning her head to him, her voice low and quiet in return.

He kneels on the mattress behind her, his eyes on the prize, willingly given to him.  “Are you sure?”  He asks tenderly, wanting her so badly but knowing she isn’t really physically up to anything zapping what little strength she has left.  His hand caresses gently over her right cheek and her skin rolls under his touch.

Licking her lips, she sticks her tongue seductively between her teeth, before breathily supplying her response.  “Yes, Daddy, make me better.  Use your hands to heal me.”

His own breath catches and he grips her flesh.  He instantly springs to attention turned on by her words, a game they’ve never played before.  He raises his eyebrow to her and she winks back, giggling and hiding her cough.  Closer now to the fire, he sees she’s added their favorite lotions to the pile of her clothes next to the whiskey bottle.  Daddy?  How drunk is she?  “My pet,” he intones, using a new nickname for this little foray into a darker world, “are you sure?”

She rolls her eyes at him and shifts forward on her arms, raising her ass higher.  “We already have a few rules, Daddy.  If I start coughing too much, or can’t handle it, I’ll call ‘recess’ tonight.  And no, I’m not drunk.  Just feeling very warm, from the booze, the fever, the fire. You.  We haven’t been together in weeks, Chris. First we were apart, then my period, and now I’m sick.  I just need it, please?”  She reaches back and squeezes his thigh, one of their signals to continue.

He reaches for the bottle of lotion and pours some in his hands, warming it with friction as he rubs his palms together.  The fire crackles and pops, the dancing flames reflected in the warmth of her eyes.  He takes the poured liquor and savors the taste, hot on his tongue.  He pours another shot for later as a filthy idea she just might like pops in his mind. He smiles and shakes his head as she hiccups quietly.  “Not drunk, you say?”

“Oh, maybe a little buzzed,” she confesses.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want this, or that I’m not aware of what’s going on.  I had the forethought to put the dog up, get lotion and condoms.  Give me some credit, man.  Control issues.  You and me both.  If you think I’m not game, stop.  But I know what I want, and right now, I really just want you to finger fuck me.”

He chuckles.  Strong and independent.  Just the way he likes her.  Loves her.  “Why?”

She coughs and he rubs over her back as the sound subsides.  She chokes out a quick breath before telling him what he needs to hear.  “I saw you light up when I was talking about our puppy parenting.”  She moans quietly as his hands run over the curve of her ass and she rolls with his caress.  “I can give up my need for control so you can have your fun, that’s what loving couples do, Chris.  I want to give this to you.  So, tonight, while I’m tipsy, I’ll be your pet and you can be my Daddy.”  She rocks back on her heels and rises to kiss him.  “Play, have fun, babe. I love you.”

He kisses her lips tenderly at first before growing in intensity.  When she’s struggling for breath, he releases his hold of her mouth and gently pushes her back to her resting position.  As her breathing returns to normal, as normal as it’s been the last few days, he continues to rub over her.  She settles in and his hands work magic over her skin.  Work tension and family stresses leave her and they listen as the wind picks up and freezing rain pelts the cabin again.  He murmurs to her, telling her all the things he loves about her.  She moans and whines happily and he loses all track of time.

Taking another shot, he wonders if she’s half asleep.  A slight cough answers his question as he smiles, holding the warm liquor in his mouth.  He bends over her, ripe and ready and pulling her flesh apart, he swallows the heated whiskey before licking his tongue gently across her pretty pink rim.  She gasps in shock, then practically purrs in excitement, while he kisses gently, teasing with his tongue, pushing her tender opening.  She spreads her legs for him and with one hand he wraps around her waist.  He blows warm air across her sweet little hole, reaching under her to slide his fingers between her wet, aching lips.  He sets a slow rhythm, nibbling on the flesh of her rounded ass, grazing her pussy with his fingertips.  Her breathing builds and she coughs a few times, humming her pleasure and fisting at the sheets.

“Please, more,” she whines.

He soaks in her pliancy and teases along the entrance to her cunt.  She’s dripping with desire and he wants her so badly.  “Please, what?” he growls, his hand slapping across her ass.

She chuckles, her eyes watching the fire blaze.  “Daddy, please, I need to feel you inside me; your healing touch.”

He swiftly brushes over the tight bundle of nerves found hidden between her walls and she jumps in his hands.  He bites at her hip and kneads her toned skin. Another swipe through the wet, and he pulls some out to tease around her clit, rolling the swollen button between his fingers.  She whines and rocks back in his hands, grinding against his palm.  Darting forward, he penetrates her with two strong fingers and pushes to her inner depths as she cries out a happy sound.  “Fuck, me Chris,” she pleads.  “I wanna come in your hands.”

“You’re so wet, my pet,” he rolls his eyes at the unintended rhyme.  “It won’t take long will it?  Tell me.”

“No, no it won’t,” she admits.  “I hate playing without you; I need this.  Daddy,” she giggles.

“That’s right, you shouldn’t play without me.  You should save yourself and only come for me,” he commands lowly.

“Then do it; make me come.”  Her body ricochets against his intrusions and her breasts sting against the friction of the mattress.

His fingers scissor through her slick, pounding again and again.  Her cunt tightens around him and as her pleasure rises her vocals echo in the small room.  He leans over her, kissing her back and pulling himself from his sweatpants with a swift, forceful tug, drops of precum rolling down her backside.  As she begins to come she shifts onto her stomach and grinds his hand into the mattress, pushing her clit against the bed.  He falls over her as her body stills and she silently finishes her rolling orgasm, pulsing and pulling his fingers in as far as they’ll reach.  He bites at her shoulder and she turns her head, searching for his mouth.  She lifts up for a kiss as the quaking stops and he covers her mouth, capturing her final sounds of completion.

Her body begins to convulse in shakes and he realizes she’s coughing again, but she requests he doesn’t move.  “I like feeling you on me.  Warm and safe, Daddy.”  She smiles between coughs, before she finally rolls to the side and pushes him off.  “You always make me feel so loved, so protected.”

Her eyes are drawn to his exposed cock, and he shakes his head ‘no.’  “No,” he chuckles, trying to put it away.  “You’re too sick.  You can’t stop coughing.”  He pauses so she can hear herself and he can prove his point. “I’m not gonna ask you to take care of me.”

She reaches for his stiff cock and says, “You’re not asking, and I appreciate that, but I need this too…”

She tugs up quickly on his shirt, and his nipples harden in the cold morning air.  She pushes him back against the pile of pillows against the couch, and straddles him quickly.  “I’m done playing and begging.  Now I’m taking what’s mine.”

His head falls back and roars with laughter as she straddles him and sheaths him.  “It’s all yours babe, my pet, every inch of it.” He looks down to see he’s totally hidden inside her and it’s so fuckin’ sexy.  He quietly whispers his thoughts to her as he tucks her hair back and holds her face in his large hands as she rides him.  Up and down, controlling him now, she quickly pulls him to his edge.  Teetering there, he pushes her over, pulling out and tugging, long ropes of creamy white cum on her tight stomach.

He collapses next to her and she winds her fingers in his hair.  “You cheated,” she coughs.  “That’s not what I wanted.”

He kisses her shoulder, and mumbles sleepily.  “Wasn’t covered… unless we’re ready for a little one to be calling me ‘daddy…’”

She traces her fingers along his profile.  Her voice dances with a gleeful joy.  “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…”

He rises up on his elbow and smiles down at her.  He grabs his shirt and wipes up his mess across her belly.  “Now I know you’re drunk,” he laughs.  “Just a month ago you didn’t want to talk about this.”

“Things change,” she shrugs her shoulders and her eyes seek his in the firelight.  “Just a month ago I didn’t know how tender and calm you could be in a crisis.  It’s like you just passed a test or something.  You’ve taken such good care of me, so worried about me and doing everything to comfort me and make me better.  Maybe it is time someone really call you ‘Daddy.’”

Dodger barks and growls, pacing in the kennel.  “Diaper changes, letting the dog out in the middle of the night, guess it wouldn’t be that different,” he jokes.

“The man with the plan and healing hands,” she giggles and coughs.  She sits up and pulls on her tank top.  She pours another shot of whiskey to calm her cough and her face reflects the bitter taste.

Chris chuckles, his hand tight on her thigh.  “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Dodger needs out and I gotta use the restroom,” she blushes, searching the pile of clothes for her panties.

“You’re not going out there.  I heard coyotes, and it’s raining.”  He rises next to her and kisses her neck with care.  He crawls to the hearth and puts another log on the fire.  “I’ll take care of him; you take care of you.”  He hands her the water and aspirin.

She smiles kindly, and teases in a light tone, “Yes, Daddy.

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