He nodded. “Oh, yes, there’s some of that. But there’s more to it. I feel a strong attraction to you already, as if I’ve known you for longer than just a day.” He winced inwardly at that trite statement, even though it was true.
Carl stepped back, wondering if he’d said too much. DeeDee stared at his eyes, as if judging him. She seemed to make a decision. “Would you like to come in for a nightcap? It’s still early.”
Oh, mamma!
“Yeah, I would.” Carl felt his cock salute her invitation. He hoped he didn’t appear too obvious. He worked hard to keep a lecherous leer from taking over his face.
They went inside. DeeDee carefully closed the door behind them. “Make yourself at home, I’ll get the drinks.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Carl took the opportunity to give his pants a yank and mentally curse his erection. Later, bub, later. He walked to the bookshelf and grabbed the first book he found. Nothing like a boring text on women’s lib to kill the hard-on.
He was surprised to see the book he held was Nancy Friday’s “My Secret Garden.” He’d heard of it—fantasies written for women, by women. Carl noticed a couple of dog-eared pages inside. He flipped to the first one and began to read.
As he did, his eyes opened wide. It was a masturbatory fantasy about a submissive woman and the actions she took at the behest of her master. Did women really fantasize about that? He knew men did. And why was it bookmarked? Did DeeDee—
“Here’s—” DeeDee came in carrying the drinks, then stopped short when she spotted him reading the red-covered book.
Carl quickly put it back on the shelf as he hastily tried to act nonchalant. “Oh, hi.” He could feel his cheeks redden. “I was just browsing.” He desperately tried to think of something to say.
“You enjoy Nancy Friday’s works?” DeeDee beat him to the punch.
“Uh, I haven’t actually read it before. I’d heard of her, of course.” He didn’t know how much he should admit to. He couldn’t very well tell her the truth, could he? Sorry, I was just looking for a dull book to read in order to shrink my raging hard-on?
She handed him a drink. “Tell me which story you were reading.”
He stopped and caught the look in her eyes. It was a look of frank openness. He guessed that she was challenging him. If you’ll be honest, I’ll be honest.
“It was a story about a submissive woman,” he said. “She was being made to walk out in public with very few clothes on.”
She tipped her head. “And why did you happen to read that one?”
“It was bookmarked. I’m guessing it’s one of your favorites.”
She flashed him a sly grin. “Perhaps.”
“Is that what Stephen did for you?”
Now it was her turn to be honest, he thought. “You really are curious about him, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes. But not if it’s too painful. I’m only talking about the good parts.”
She stared into her martini glass. “I-I haven’t…told anyone before.”
Now Carl was sure he wanted to hear it. She had piqued his writer’s curiosity. He sat down on the couch and indicated she should sit in the upholstered chair opposite. “I would really like to hear it, DeeDee. Will you tell me?”
She nodded and her face got a vacant, dreamy look to it. She started out hesitantly, then gathered steam as the story unfolded.
“My first year in college. Stephen…was my English professor. Stephen J. Evers. He was a nice-looking, slightly balding, middle-aged man…who always seemed so…proper. I was still rebelling, even though I was away from my mother. I still didn’t want to wear underwear.
“One day, he called me into his office. He told me he could tell I wasn’t wearing a bra and that it was distracting to the other students. He’d make me sit in one of those wooden school chairs while he…walked around me, talking about my…habit, telling me I should be more discreet. All the while, I could feel his eyes on my knees, as if he was trying to see up past the hem of my dress. Or on my…breasts, though he couldn’t see anything through my blouse.”
Carl was rapt with attention. His drink remained forgotten in his hand. His cock re-awoke and trumpeted its presence.
“The first time, he threatened to call my mother if I kept it up. That was almost laughable—it wasn’t much of a threat. She never could stop me from doing it.
“At the same time, I didn’t want to go back to wearing panties and bras, so I told him how hot and uncomfortable they made me. I mean, he really didn’t have any leverage over me. He couldn’t flunk me just because of what I wore. Yet, it made me…excited. Then…I don’t know why I did it, just intuition, I guess. I spread my knees apart a little and eased the skirt up just a bit, showing my knees. He licked his lips and told me I’d have to report to him regularly if I kept ignoring the rules. I could’ve said no, I don’t have to and that would’ve been the end of it, but I played along. I told him I’d rather do that than put on the damn things, so we…came to sort of an arrangement.”
“You’d continue to tease him and he wouldn’t tell you to wear underclothes in his class.”
“Right.”
“Was he satisfied just to see your knees?”
She blushed pink. “No. Each time I went to see him, he wanted to push it a little further. He never told me to do it in so many words, he just kept up with these empty threats to call my mom or to report me unless I agreed to wear undergarments, unless…”
She sat motionless in the chair, her face blank, her mind completely occupied with her story. Carl was equally rapt with attention.
“I got the hint. I’d unbutton the top button of my blouse and ease my skirt up, just a little. He’d stop talking and just breathe a little more heavily. We’d just stay there like that for a few minutes, then he’d let me go. The next time, he’d start again. Each time, pushing it a little further.”
Carl’s cock ached for release. This was the best story he’d heard in years. His future bestseller was writing itself in his head. It might even be banned in Boston. That was, if DeeDee allowed him to use her story.
“You could’ve reported him, you know. I mean, the professors aren’t supposed to fool around with the students.” Carl thought the man was risking a lot.
“I know. But that was the last thing I wanted to do. It made me…very excited.”
Carl knew exactly what she meant. Just like the fantasy she’d bookmarked. Someday, he’d have to read the whole damn story. But right now, this was far better.
“So you used him, just as much as he used you.”
She made a face. “Well, if you put it that way, I guess so. We really were just teasing each other. He tried to keep his distance, you know, to be professional.”
Carl knew that couldn’t last. “So, you kept going to his office?”
“Yes. It was so…n-n-naughty.” The word seemed to catch in her throat.
He saw the color rise in her cheekbones. Her eyes dilated as she remembered those days.
“Show me what you were doing, at first.” He honestly didn’t know where that came from. It wasn’t even a question, it was a demand. A soft demand, but still a demand.
She widened her eyes, then put her drink down and cupped the hem of her dress with two delicate hands. She pulled it up over her knees. “It was about like this, at first,” her voice shook a little.
“And the top?”
She left the dress where it was and reached up to the big buttons on her chest. Carl could see her hands trembling. He almost told her to stop, but his words caught in his throat. She unbuttoned the top button underneath the scarf.
That scarf would have to go, he decided.
“How long did this go on?”
“Oh, months. That entire semester.”
“I imagine you were showing him quite a bit by the time you left his class. Show me how it progressed.”