Give the Student What He Wants Ch. 02

I could hear his heart pound. His free hand suddenly stopped pumping, and I heard a scratching sound as he grabbed at the fabric of the chair. His body shuddered again and again. He twisted and turned, almost as if he wanted me to release his dick, but I knew better (I hoped), and hung on tight. Verrrrryyy careful about the teeth.

After what felt like a long time, his spasms quieted down, the flow of cum dwindled to a trickle, and his cock softened a little, like before, from steel I-beam to, maybe, one of those half-sized bats they give out at the ballpark on Bat Day. Almost that big, too, it seemed to me. His jacking hand slid back to his cock, stroking softly. Then he did something that almost made me cream in my pants for the sheer unexpected joy of it. I was still propped up on my arms, my hands on the arms of the chair. His free hand squeezed my hand, gently, with affection.

I wasn't letting go of that sweet pole until I absolutely had to. Softer and softer, that just made more I could cram in my mouth. There was nothing to suck, but I just liked the idea of taking care of the tired thing until it could be put to bed. Master Jason just sat, still, I suppose in post-orgasmic bliss. After a while he spoke.

"Assume The Position, " he whispered. I released his soft prick and dropped to my knees, bowing my head. He reached down and cupped my chin in his palm, pulling my face up so I was looking at him. "Dr. Bitch, you learn quick," he said, sounding strangely friendly. "Some day you just might be a good all-around slut. On a ten point scale, I'd give that one a six, maybe six and a half. I don't mean to hurt your feelings. For your second blow job ever, it was a ten, maybe higher. But after some practice, you'll see what I mean."

He hoisted himself out of the chair and rearranged his clothes to proper. His stern voice returned. "Dr. Bitch, stay in The Position until I leave. Then you can get up. If those porn movies don't have anything more to teach you, get some others. I expect you to learn deep throating, but not 'til you have more practice at regular cocksucking. In fact, in a month or so, I expect you to be an expert at deep throating. That Linda whats-her-name will want lessons from you." He picked up his backpack and was gone.

I didn't remember giving Jason my unlisted home phone number, but on Sunday he called me. He sounded like he'd been drinking. "Dr. Bitch?" he slurred. "Is anyone there? Assume The Position." I fell to my knees, clutching the phone. "Good boy. Now get up, get in your car, drive around until it's warm inside, and then come pick me up at Richie's Tavern. You know it?" "Yes, Master."

"Just come in and sort of run in to me. 'Jason! What are you doing here?' You know the drill. Then offer me a ride home, because I'm too drunk to drive. Understand?" "Yes, Master."

"Then get moving!" he slammed down his receiver.

I was nervous, because this plan contradicted his orders about perfect secrecy. Nevertheless, I did as I had been told, and soon we were driving away from Richie's. He was tipsy, but not drunk. Definitely DUI, if he'd driven and been pulled over, but not drunk enough for the cop to notice in the first place. Even so, I was immensely pleased to have been summoned. I'd missed him.

"Take me to your place," he commanded. "I need a piece of ass. NOW."

I drove. I was thrilled, and scared, and elated. He planned to favor my ass with his cock? My virgin ass? I was ready with K-Y jelly, as commanded. (I had tried to imagine how it would feel, but concluded I had no way to tell. (Which, I've found out since, was true -- I'd had no idea.) I tried using my own fingers in my ass, as kind of a practice, but that was ridiculous. All ten of my fingers, in a tight bundle, might just barely be as thick as Master Jason's prick.)

I wanted to stammer out my thanks right then, but stopped. He really hadn't promised. For all I knew, he'd told some girl to meet him at my place. I was sure she was a stunner. D cups, size 4 ass, chestnut hair. She'd know all the secrets of sucking cock, and maybe of taking it up the ass. Maybe she'd have some good advice for me.

I daydreamed about it as I drove -- they'd take my bed, of course, and I'd make do on the couch. I'd be on call in case they wanted anything: more condoms, beer, sex toys. Not that I had any sex toys, but I'd run out and buy some.

Maybe they'd let me watch them fuck. Jason would taste her tits, then ease that beautiful face between her legs, tongue out, rigid, seeking just the right spot in her cunt, to get it ready for his massive tool. I hoped she wouldn't blow him, though. That was my privilege. No matter how much he fucked her, if he'd let me, I could get him off one more time. After two-and-a-half blow jobs, I sure thought I was some expert.

And all the while, they'd be kissing, and kissing, and kissing. That made me jealous, of a woman who might not even exist! I wanted to kiss Jason, really necking, tongue wrestling, almost as much as I wanted his cock. I wondered if I could ask him: "Please, Master, may I kiss you?"

OHMYGOD! I'd said it out loud. Jason gave me a long look, then said, "Pull over." I complied right away, neatly at the curb, shifter in "park," motor running. "Okay, kiss me," he commanded. I leaned toward him, enjoying the superior smirk he was giving me. Head to the left or to the right? Left. Can I use my hands? On his head? Shoulders? Cock? Better not. All I had permission for was the kiss.

I pulled my legs from under the steering wheel, so I could keep my balance. The car was dark. It was January out, but the car was warm, as he'd ordered. There was no traffic. No one walking a dog. In fact, almost no sounds.

Slowly I leaned into his thin smile, giving my lips one last lick, so they were moist enough. I tried not to hope he'd respond, so I wouldn't be disappointed. No luck. I had high hopes as my lips touched the skin of his face. I leaned in a little harder, and planted the kiss.

His response shocked me. He placed his strong right hand on the back of my head, opened his mouth and kissed me with all the warmth and affection I could possibly have hoped for. I did the same. Our teeth opened, and our tongues did their dance. My face was already flushed from the flames of the contact. I could feel the warmth moving down my body, like good Scotch moves down your throat.

His kisses grew hotter, and more urgent. I could taste the beer. I wanted to reach for his cock, but didn't dare without an invitation. Just as I was thinking about this, Jason, to my absolute shocked delight, shoved his hand inside my belt, inside my pants, and inside my underwear to grasp my puny dick, which was harder and straighter than it had ever been. He didn't stroke it, he just cupped my balls gently, with his thumb and finger loosely around the base.

I almost exploded like a 12-year old. No stroking necessary. But, somewhere deep I remembered that I was not ever, ever to cum without his permission. I wasn't sure if I had permission, so my subconscious turned off the cum. Oh, well. Obeying one's Master has its ups and downs. Does it ever!

Suddenly he disengaged from our kiss to look in my eyes. Mine, I knew, gazed upon my Master, as ever, with total adoration and submission. His eyes showed the light of affection, tentative, like people kissing on their first or second date. If he had me under his spell, I thought, then I had him at least partially under mine. I'd never felt this way about anyone.

After a long moment he spoke. "Home," he whispered. I turned back around to the driving position, pleased and proud to have his left hand remain on my cock. I took a chance, and after turning the key I dropped my hand to my crotch and squeezed his, gently. To my surprise, he smiled.

"Drive," he said. "To your place. Quick."

I did as I was told.

As I opened my apartment door I automatically started to do the host routine. "Let me take your coat. Coffee? Decaf?" But the look on his face brought me up sharp. "Master," I restarted. "May I hang up your coat? Would you like something to drink? I don't have any beer, but there's some single-malt Scotch." As I spoke, Jason shed his coat, then his shirt, shoes, pants, underwear, socks. He was quick. I was surprised by his urgency; those services were my job. I wished he'd let me do them.

"Neeooo, I would not like you to take my cooooat," he hissed, in a simpering nasal tone, mocking me. "What I want is you, on your knees. Assume The Position." I dropped.

It was sort of a replay of our first time. Not a blow job, really. He fucked my mouth. Hard. Not brutally, but totally unconcerned with my comfort. His hips bucked and thrust his prick to the very limit of my mouth, then back, so the cockhead almost reached my lips, then his hips would thrust him in again. On some strokes, but not all (thank you, Master), he'd yank my hair and pull my head toward him as he made another strong, uncaring, abrupt thrust. It hurt like hell. My hair hurt, my jaw hurt, even my nose and lips hurt, banging into his scratchy crotch hair on every stroke.

I was in heaven.

As he fucked me, he was talking, sort of to me, I guess. "See, Dr. Bitch, it's not going to be all lovey-dovey like last time. I'm the Master here. I do what I want. You submit. Period. I bet this hurts. It'll ache tomorrow -- all my sluts have said so. Too fucking bad. You'll take it, and when I'm done, and you've drunk down all the cum, your first words will be, 'Thank you, Master. Thank you for using me however you please. Thank you for fucking my mouth.' Like this." He yanked my hair, and my nose hit his crotch so hard I was afraid it might start bleeding all over those perfect balls and their garden of curly pubic hair.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Dr. Bitch, you bastard, you'd better catch every drop! Swallow it all! Here it comes! You'd better be ready! Aggghhh. . . "

Of course, he didn't need to say all those harsh things. I had no intention of spilling a drop. I wasn't going to swallow right away, though. I'd let it linger on my tongue, as much as I could manage.

The cum gushed and gushed, like it did on the first day. I'd had a little more practice, though, and carefully watched all those movies. I handled it much better this time. I said my lines, with a lot of feeling: "Thank you, Master. Thank you for using me however you please. Thank you for fucking my mouth like this."

He dropped his naked body, spent, on the sofa, flopping one forearm over his eyes. "Get me a beer."

"I'm sorry, Master, I have no beer. Shall I go buy some?"

"No, just come here." Unsure what he meant, I knelt at his feet, leaning on the sofa in a kind of lazy version of The Position. He idly petted my hair, like you'd pet a dog. "What was the idea of asking for a kiss, back there, in the car?"

"Master, I was daydreaming about the days I hope for, when you would let me kiss your lips, caress your lovely hard body, present my ass to you for fucking. Those are my only daydreams, since last week. In my presumptuous lust, I slipped and spoke words I should have kept to myself. I am truly very sorry."

He chuckled a little, but the forearm remained over his eyes. "No, it's okay. When you said it I thought, 'now, here's a slut with some spunk.' My cock approved, I can tell you. Too bad I was wrong. No spunk. Not enough, anyway."

I was crushed.

It must have showed, because I looked up to see him peering out from under the arm across his face. "Oh, what the hell. Come here, my little Dr. Bitch. Let's find out how much you know about kissing." His prick was already stirring, getting ready for another round.

Wow. I meant to catch you up all the way to Friday, as I lay with my head in my dear Master's lap, trying to hide my eagerness as we await his next erection. But it's only Sunday evening, and we're necking on the couch. It's already happened, so I know: Later tonight he'll let me give him a hand job, and then suck down all that teenage cum. Then -- how do I deserve such a Master! -- he permits me to give myself a hand job as well, that is, to masturbate. But he orders me to be tidy, in the bathroom, and to use a warm damp washcloth to catch all the cum. He has no interest in my hand job, but he wants to watch me suck and lick my cum off the cloth.

It was fun. I have the K-Y jelly, but we don't use it tonight. Be patient, like I had to be.