The Sensual Life Ch. 05

Around 8:00 that evening, I showered-- at my own dorm-- and decided what to wear. It was a daunting decision, considering what I figured was going to happen. I decided to wear pretty much the same thing I did that day, except I chose a black sweater to replace the ivory, a fresh pair of black tights, and I left the panties behind. I wore the same skirt. He seemed to like it enough earlier, that afternoon.

His car was there, in the parking lot, the only one there. He got out, opened the door for me, and got back in on his side.

He looked over at me occasionally as we drove across town to his house. "You look very nice," he said. "I do like that skirt." He smiled, but kept his hands on the steering wheel, gripping the vinyl like a new driver.

We passed the coffee shop, the infamous one. The lights were bright inside and I could see people in there, like miniature figures, so much like an Ed Hopper painting.

When we got to his house, he opened the door for me. At the bottom of the stairs leading to his studio, I waited for him to go first, but he waved me ahead. "Please," he said.

As I got closer to the landing of the second floor, there was a warm glow easing into the darkness, the opposite of the way the light shone through the windows of the studio that fated morning. Finally standing at the door way, I was able to figure out why.

The fabric that was draped along the top ledges of the windows had been dropped down, flowing in smooth, curving lines, calming the linear strain of the windows. They lilted as I entered the room. He had lit candles, sometime before he came to get me. They were standing in various post-modern designed metal contraptions, in plates on the tables where the paint cans and brushes had been. A small, old fashioned lamp with a tasseled shade sat atop the bookcase and gave off a dull glow that reminded me of a scene in a movie from the 1940s. So much light given off by such a simple things, gathered en masse. It was a gorgeous thick, dull luminance that lingered somewhere between darkness and light.

The big red velvet air mattress was in the same place, the pillows neatly arranged, fabric folded in neat rectangles at the foot of it, and scattered on the mattress and all around it were flower petals, what I assumed were roses, but they were actually petals of magnolias. Mason stood behind me, and asked, "You like?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Like the lady before me," he said.

I thought I was dreaming, and stood in the haze of candlelight, swooning with the lilt of the fabric streaming from the windows. I stood there for quite some time until Mason said, with a quiet, musical chuckle, "It's not a still life arrangement. We aremeantto go in."

We walked in and I didn't know quite where to stand. I felt incredibly underdressed for the display--although I think the intent was that I feel overdressed.

He sat in the plush armchair and unlaced his boots. I started to do the same, but he blurted out, "No, don't."

He walked up to me in his stocking feet. He was still taller than me, about 5'8, with his boots off and my boots on. "I love your skin," he said, while looking into my face, his eyes glazed over. He was holding my face with both hands. "I've never been with a black woman before," he said, smoothing his fingers over my forehead, my cheeks, and chin. "To be honest, I didn't think race mattered until I met you."

He brushed his fingers against the back of my neck and put his arm around my waist, pulling me closer until were pressed against each other. We kissed. He moved his hand under my skirt, rubbing the palm of his hand along my ass cheeks.

"Ah," he blurted out, noticing that I was wearing tights, but no panties. "Just how they were meant to be worn," he added with another soft chuckle. He reached inside my tights and continued rubbing my ass. I felt his breath quicken against my ear. He groaned softly as his hands began squeezing my ass, hard, until It almost hurt.

I felt the rigidness of his cock against me, through our clothes and I thought about it -- the moderate length, the thickness of it...the way it bent upward slightly...all things I'd caught quick glimpses of when we were first together. I felt the nerves tingling in my pussy, and felt the pores beginning to release fluid. Mason continued squeezing my ass in that way that hurt and stimulated me at the same time. I wasn't sure what excited me about it-- the urgency, or the absent-minded of his touch; That lack of presence that made him not realize it almost hurt me, or the soft ache that pulsed through my ass cheek and my inner thighs once he released. Either way, it provoked me to grind against him, as much as I could manage. But my moving against him that way took him out of his reverie.

He stepped away from me, and shook his head. His eyebrows furrowed, and he said, in a voice that was stern but quiet, "Not yet. Go lie over there," he said, pointing to the mattress. "Lie on your stomach."

I went to the air mattress and laid on my belly as he'd asked, with my boots still on my feet. I tried to position my feet so the soles wouldn't touch the mattress.

Lying on my stomach, with my head on the pillows, kept me from seeing him at all. I heard him walk over to me, his feet brushing the hardwood floor. I felt his hands on my waist and he pulled me up so that I was kneeling, with my head facing the pillows. He lifted my skirt, and again, his hands moved over my ass. His fingers bent under the elastic band at the waist of my tights and pulled them down so that my ass was totally bare, and the elastic stretched and retracted, cinching the middle of my thighs. I gasped.

He moved his body so it was hunched over mine, in a position of a doggy-style fuck. His clothing felt scratchy against my bare ass and thighs. His hair was falling over my head, dangling on either side of my face and tickling it. He whispered in my ear. "You're a good girl...but you can be such anaughtygirl."

There it was again, just like in his office earlier that day. For the second time, he referred to me with that voice, and that strange way of speaking. It puzzled me and it aroused me. It made me think of those Victorian erotic novels Perry and I used to read.

The denim of his jeans felt rough against my skin as he leaned into me. The metal button at the waist of his jeans was cold against my skin. The combination of that and his voice made me shiver.

"Are you my naughty black girl?" he asked, whispering in my ear, again in that voice. I didn't answer, not knowing what to say.

He moved up from over my body and I felt a sudden slap on my ass. Then another. Then another. He paused for a moment, and I understood he was waiting for a response.

"Yes," I replied, moving my head to the side, so he could hear my voice, un-muffled from the pillows.

"Yes?" he replied, in an almost fake, mocking tone. "Yes,what?" He slapped my ass again, harder this time, and four times in succession, with a slight pause between them.

I winced. The strength of each spank was increasing.

"Yes, I am your naughty black girl," I replied. I could feel the skin on my ass burning slightly.

"There's a good girl," Mason cooed, as he rubbed my ass soothingly.

He got up from behind me, and I heard him move not that far away from me. Then I saw his legs walking around the head of the mattress. The scent of the magnolia petals emanated from the floor where his feet crushed them.

"I have a surprise for you," he said. I was still kneeling. He hadn't told me I shouldn't be. I wanted to look up, but wasn't sure if I should. He must've noticed this because he said to me, "You may look."

In his hands was a long piece of corded line, like the kind my mother would hang clothes on when I was little. "Only your hands," he said, to assure me. As he looked at me, I noticed the candlelight mellowed the strong features of his face. At the same time, it added a fierceness, making the sparkle of his eyes and the highlights of his hair stand out more. It excited me.

I held my hands forward, balancing my kneeling body by propping my arms up on the pillows. "First we have to take off your top," he said. He left the rope on the pillows next to me and I stretched my arm for him to pull off my sweater. "...and your bra," he added, unfastening the back hooks, letting it fall underneath me, then pulling the shoulder straps over my arms. He let the bra fall to the floor at his feet. "There."

From then on, it was like I went into a trance. I felt him winding the cord around my wrists, as methodically as he had unlaced his boots, around, and around, knotting, tying, until the task was complete. He gently placed my bound wrists on pillows he propped up to support them, leaving my arms stretched before me. The way he had tied my wrists and positioned my arms forced my head up. He squatted in front of me, gazed at me with sleepy eyes. He touched his lips to mine, opened them slightly, breathing in and out through my mouth. Then he kissed me, long and hard, his tongue reaching into my mouth.

He knelt behind me, and caressed my back, running his hands along my shoulder blades, then the space between them, rubbing a hand around my neck, then reaching underneath me to cup my breasts as his still clothed body rubbed against me. He let his fingertips tease my nipples, run along my belly and circle my navel, then ran them up to my breasts again and began squeezing them softly. He let his pelvis bump against me, so I could feel the hardness of his cock swelling underneath his jeans.

My tights were still pulled down around my thighs, and I felt him he parting my ass cheeks, squeezing them in his hands before he did. I felt the cool air on my asshole, and shuddered, wondering what he was about to do. He allowed my ass cheeks to close and slapped my ass again playfully, then ran his hands around my naked thighs, squeezing and rubbing them, starting at the point where my tights held them together, and ending just below my pussy.

He moved his head down and underneath me, pulling my hips down toward him, and let his tongue touch my clit. I shuddered. He parted my pussy lips with his fingers and moved the wetness that had been building there around with his fingers, then placed his whole mouth on my cunt. I felt his tongue dart around my cunt, from the dark hooded clit to crimson inner slit, and I groaned, trying not to move, and not being able to move much at all, because of the pulled-down tights binding my legs and the rope binding my wrists. Cunt juices drooled out of me in increasing amounts, and I heard him slurping and swallowing greedily, felt him licking up everything I was giving up.

I shuddered and cried out, oozing juices onto his face, my thighs trembling. I thought he would stop once I came, but he didn't, and, I came again, this time a flood over his face. I heard him moan, felt his hands on my ass, his tongue still probing into my slit, his mouth sucking and slurping.

He didn't wait for my second orgasm to subside, but instead, took my clit between his lips and sucked, long and hard. It felt swollen and engorged with a million nerves erect like pins and feathers all at once.
"Noooo," I groaned. I wanted him to stop. I was feeling that aching sensation of being over stimulated. But he wouldn't stop. I cried out in agony, he pinched my nipples, and I felt my stomach tighten along with every other muscle in my body, the tension built up until they all released at once, in unison, and I yelled out, a thin guttural scream from the depth of my throat. My body shook. The rope ached on my wrists, and hurt my shoulders as my body writhed in pleasure. The ache went through my entire body and I groaned and shook until I collapsed, as well as I could, my partially clothed body awkwardly bent, propped up by my bound hands on the pillow. I was panting. I was trembling. Mason, still fully clothed, moved over to the side of me, adjusted my arms and legs so they were a bit more comfortable, and looked into my face, then kissed me, long and hard.

"Sometimes," he said, "You can go further than you think you can." He smiled at me. I looked up at him, exhausted, blinking, still feeling the affect of cumming. "Now," he whispered, "What would you like next?"

I looked at him blankly. I didn't think I had a choice. Wasn't that the purpose of his positioning me this way?

"Tell me. Go on," he said.

"I...I want you inside me," I replied tentatively.

"I'm sure you do. And how is it you should let me know?" he asked.

It was nothing I knew, not in my head, but I spoke with the encouragement of the sparkle in his eyes. "I'd like for you to...fuck me."

"Just because you'd like it, doesn't mean I should give it to." His voice was stern, but playful. His hand was caressing my back and my neck.

I only responded to the sternness in his voice., and I felt frustration and anger replacing pleasure. He must've seen it in my eyes because he reached underneath me and rubbed my clit, then, once my eyes glazed over, he slapped my ass hard.

"Ask me for what you want, Ayilah. Nicely."

He was rubbing my ass again, looking into my face, waiting. His eyes, his hair wild and loose, the warm tone the candlelight gave his skin, having my movement restricted...it all aroused something in me I couldn't describe. I heard myself speak, in a soft whisper, "Mason...would you fuck me...please."

He kissed my full lips, leaving them wet, and moved behind me. With my tights still cinching my thighs, my skirt hiked up at my waist, I felt his pale hands on my naked brown hips, then only one hand, and the tip of his cock at my pussy.

He pushed the head of his cock in. I could feel my pussy lips resisting and then closing tightly over it just below the rim. I heard Mason groan. He was totally still for a moment. His hands smoothed along my back between my shoulder blades. I felt him pushing his way deeper into me, with only a forward thrust. I could feel my juices flowing out of the pores of my cunt, surrounding his hard cock, and he was still again. I wasn't feeling the scratch of his jeans against me. Just his bare skin.

The veins of his dick pulsed between my tight walls. My warm juices continued flooding all over it. He thrust forward, gasped, and pushed until he was in all the way, to the root of his cock, his balls pressing against me.

I moaned, felt my legs quivering a bit. Mason leaned over my body, along my back and whispered in my ear, with a voice that betrayed his own pleasure, "Is that what you want, Ayilah? Professor's hard white cock in your dark pussy?"

"Yes-s-sss," I moaned, feeling my cunt walls grip him even tighter.

"You naughty, naughty girl," He said, nibbling my ear. "Wanting your professor's cock." He gave a little pump of his dick inside me, just a tease, then asked me, "Now, do you want your white professor to fuck your naughty black cunt?"

His words had a dizzying effect on me. I felt my pussy tingling around his dick. I felt incredibly full with him inside me. I thought I would cum right then. He gave another teasing pump, that didn't move his cock out of me at all, and I groaned, flooding his cock with more of my juices.

"Ohhhhhhh...fuck...," he groaned, and without waiting for a response from me. He held my hips and began thrusting into my cum juice, in and out, slowly, firmly, banging hard against my ass with every thrust, making certain his cock sunk deep inside me. I was so wet, that I could hear the squirting, farting and squishing as he pumped, knowing that as he pushed in between my dark pussy lips, his white cock was coming out slick and gleaming with my cum.

He moved inside me like that for several minutes, his hands on my hips, angling his cock in various ways so that it rubbed the walls and various depths of my cunt. My tights were still banded around my thighs and I couldn't move the way I wanted, so my ass wriggled and quivered in response to his thrusts. I pushed against his cock in backward and circular movements, causing his dick to rub all the right places, until I came again, twice more, and my thighs were coated with my own cum.

After I came the third time, Mason allowed me time to recover, letting his dick rest inside me. He was totally buried in me to the root. His cock throbbed even as it stood still, and the veins pulsed against my pussy walls. Mason grabbed my shoulders to brace me so that my hips were firmly in place against his, and, as he tightened his grip on my shoulders, he pounded my pussy from behind, barely retracting his cock at first, then taking longer more vigorous thrusts that threw my body forward, even with him holding me in place. I was about to cum again when I heard him groan loudly, and felt myself being filled with warmth. Once his cum spurted into me, I came, less intensely than it initially seemed it was going to be. My cunt gripped his cock tightly, as if refusing to let it go. He thrust spasmodically, spurting his cum into me, then fell, with his stomach warm and sweaty on my back, squeezing my breasts and groaning.

He rolled over on his side and brought me with him, and I held my cunt muscles tight, to keep his cock inside me. We laid there for a while, me holding him inside me until his cock slipped out of me of its own will. He prompted me to lay on my back. Moving his hands down my body, he stopped at my thighs and parted my legs. He held them open, and, with his hair falling around his face onto my thighs, he put his mouth to my cunt. I could feel his cum and mine still oozing out of my slit. His tongue lapped it up greedily, dipping between the lips, licking his cum off of the part of my ass that was closest to my pussy. Then he moved up my body and kissed me, his lips covered in both our juices. I sucked on his mouth, tasting the salty, milky mix of our cum.

"I'm not through with you," he said as he ran his fingers over my thighs, and I felt his fingers, more than one, penetrating my pussy. I groaned softly, looking up at him, my eyes glazing over. He watched my face intently. "I want to see my cum all over your brown body. Would you like that?" he asked.

"Yesss," I moaned in response.

"I'd also like to slide my cock between those beautiful breasts. Would you like that also?" he asked again. He was rubbing my clit while he talked to me, watching my face, listening to me groan, all while speaking in a controlled voice. "I'd love to do it now, but while I have you like this, there's something else I'd like from you."

He rose from my side and knelt at the side of the mattress, kissed me, then moved towards the end of it. He pulled off my tights, then my skirt, and dropped them on floor at the end of the mattress. Then he stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, slowly. He took something out of the cabinet, the walked back over to where I was, but not before placing the object he had gone for onto the table which stood a few feet away from the mattress.

He knelt beside me again, and ran his fingers over my face and down my breasts. "You look so beautiful like that," he said, pausing for a moment and just staring. He reached up to my arms, his limp cock dangling above me. I thought perhaps he was going to untie me, but instead, he was positioning my arms and then the rest of my body. I let my body go limp and let him move me, and he gave me a little smile of gratitude, but continued with his self-assigned task. When he was through, my arms were over my head, hanging beyond the pillows. He tucked the pillows so they propped my torso up a bit, and allowed the rest of my body to slope down gracefully.

"How do you feel?" he asked, squatting next to me.

Between the setting, the sex, and what I assumed he was about to do, I was so relaxed now that nothing was the slightest bit uncomfortable. My body fell into the position he had created for me quite naturally, as if it were a normal way to rest.