Teach Me

Mia fidgeted with her cosmo in the crowded London bar. Tonight, she would meet him.

Him.

The older man she'd been texting for a week.

The man who'd kept her awake at night and distracted during the day.

The man with the roguish smile, the witty banter, and the dirty mind.

Quickly, she opened the dating app on her phone and swiped to Aaron. His photo was taken from the side. He grinned rakishly at the camera, his sandy blond hair falling in his face. He was forty, fit, handsome — close to twenty years older than her.

And he made her delirious with excitement.

She glanced around. People jostled her on either side, rubbing elbows, but they were too drunk and noisy to pay any attention. Hiding her phone inside her fuzzy jacket, she found the video she'd watched so many times, she'd practically worn out the screen: a beautiful cock, flushed with arousal, the skin tight and shiny, gripped in its owner's fist. That fist shamelessly jacked it, becoming a blur, until creamy cum spurted out, flying all over the big male hand.

Mia's mouth watered, and her pussy buzzed insistently. With the text that followed the video — kneel between my legs and clean me up, baby girl — she'd stroked herself to a frantic orgasm. Countless times. God, he was delicious.

"Aaron," she murmured, scanning the bar. Her nipples tightened and her whole body flamed at the prospect of finally meeting him. Seeing him, hearing his voice.

Touching him.

At first, they'd just chatted. The subjects ranged from philosophy to their favorite bands to embarrassing childhood stories. He'd made her laugh out loud. Snorting tea out her nose in a cafe, in fact.

Then she got up the courage to confess four things:

She'd always wanted to be with an older man.

She was shy.

She was kinky.

She wanted to be taught.

And he drank it up. Always respectful, always making sure she was willing, but filthier by the day. He led her down a rabbit hole that started with dirty talk.

Pictures followed. You have the most beautiful tits, little girl. So big and firm, your pink nipples begging for my tongue.

Then came the videos. He coaxed her to hold her phone close to her slick pussy and stroke her swollen clit for him until she exploded in a flash of pleasure.

Mia loved the coaxing. She loved yielding to him, following his increasingly dirty orders. In the end, what took her over the edge in that video was knowing how much she pleased him.

God, she was wet. She squirmed on the barstool. They'd agreed to just talk at this first meeting. Get to know each other. Aaron had assured her he didn't expect anything.

What if I want you to expect something? she'd teased.

She smoothed her long dark hair, streaked with purple, and glanced down. Under her jacket, a low-cut black shirt showed her generous cleavage. Her short plaid skirt rode up her thighs, encased in black tights, as she scuffed one sneaker against the other.

Six months ago, she'd only dreamed of dressing like this. As she'd confided in Aaron, she'd come to London to try to break out of her shell.

Mia took a gulp of her cosmo. She'd been careful not to share identifying details, but she'd shared just about everything else. Now, she wondered if he was really who he said he was. He seemed too good to be true.

A sandy blond head in the doorway caught her attention. Her heart rose into her throat.

This was it. The meeting might be a total flop. She stuffed her phone in her purse and clasped her hands together.

Please, she prayed to whoever was listening, let this be goddamn perfect.

She started across the room, her pulse skyrocketing. That was definitely Aaron walking into the bar. He looked around calmly. Confidently. Unbuttoning his coat.

She'd worried that he wouldn't look like his picture. That even the videos lied. But as she approached him, it was clear that the man in front of her was no lie.

For a second, she thought about running. Not because she didn't want him, but because she wanted him so much. They'd connected so easily over text. She'd told him things — shown him things — no one else could even guess.

She stopped in front of him. When his warm brown eyes met hers, her throat closed up.

Dammit, don't be shy now. He's seen you naked.

He tucked a strand of purple-streaked hair behind her ear, and her cheeks burned. The simple gesture made it hard to breathe.

"Hi," she managed. "It's me."

He flashed an impish smile, showing the dimple in his square chin. "You."

Along with the smile, there was a strange tickle of recognition that she couldn't place.

She stretched out her hand, and he took it.

"And it's you." Her dry throat made her voice rasp.

"None other." He surveyed her, still holding her hand, then pulled her into a hug.

It was a friendly hug. No pressure, no expectations. But her arms instinctively tightened around his neck, and her body followed.

Even through their winter coats, she felt her breasts bump his firm chest. She let out a soft noise as his hands settled on her curvy hips.

"Molly, sweet girl," he whispered.

Right. In an abundance of caution, she'd used a different name on the app, planning to tell him her real name in person if all went well.

At the time, it had seemed like a great idea.

Mia pulled back. "I have to tell you something."

"Anything." He took her chin in his hand.

Recognition pulsed, stronger. She'd met this man before, and she couldn't place where. Something shifted in his eyes, and he peered at her more closely.

"My name isn't really Molly." She fought to hold his gaze. "It's actually Mia. I used an assumed name on the app, you know, just to be on the safe side..."

He blinked, surprised, then grinned. "All right. I'm not mad about it. Mia's a beautiful name. And I understand—"

His eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed. Her name had rung a bell. As he opened his mouth, the truth came to her too.

"Mia," he repeated. "Would that be Mia—"

"Oh my God." She put her hand to her mouth.

"Mia Hawkins?" His arms stiffened around her.

"Oh God, you're—"

He held her away from him.

"Shit," he gritted. "Shit, shit."

"Jesus," she breathed.

"You look so different. I didn't know."

She stared up at him. "Professor Taylor?"

His hands hovered over her without actually touching. She could feel the heat radiating from his palms, through her jacket, burning her soft skin.

"Modern Literature, front row," he muttered. "Great work but never participated."

"It's okay," she said quickly. "It doesn't matter, it's not a big deal. That was last year."

She never would have expected to soothe him. He was older, more experienced. But she stroked his back and cupped his cheek. His breath quickened, and he flinched.

"It's okay, Aaron," she repeated.

"No, it's not okay."

"I'm not your student anymore. We're across the ocean from the university."

"Are you still enrolled?" His voice was terse and businesslike.

Fuck it, she'd give anything for him to hold her again and call her his sweet girl.

"Yes." Her eyes dropped. "I'm doing my junior year abroad here. What about you?"

"I'm on sabbatical. Researching and writing." She stared up at him, and he swallowed. "We can't do this, Mia."

"Yes, we can."

"I pride myself on being ethical, and this is completely unethical."

Goddammit. She'd finally met a man she liked, a man she was overwhelmingly attracted to, a man she could be herself with, and this was over before it began?

Mia had always been a people pleaser. She hated arguing. Hated making a fuss. She kept her mouth shut, even when she had something to say.

That ended now.

She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. "You know what? I love you for saying that, but I also hate you for saying that."

His mouth fell open.

"What are you so afraid of? Do you think I'll get you in trouble? Is that it? 'Professor Taylor sent me dick pics?'"

"That's part of it," he muttered.

"I would never do that." The words rushed out, gathering strength. "I'm completely, totally on board with everything we've done. I would never try to hurt you. Never. And I know you'd never take me anywhere I don't want to go."

"All that from a week of texts?" He raised an eyebrow. His face softened, hinting at the dimple in his chin.

"We've talked a lot. I've said more to you in the past week than I have to most people in my life."

"I believe you, Mia." The dimple showed itself. "You never said a word in class last year, but you've talked my ear off the past few days. Practically broke my phone."

"No, that was you." Her cheeks flushed.

"You didn't wear makeup back then, did you?" He traced a finger over the dark lipstick on her full lips. "Your hair was much shorter. Definitely not purple. And you favored...turtlenecks."

His warm brown eyes dropped to the glimpse of cleavage, creamy and full, peeking from her fuzzy jacket. She shivered. Her nipples ached, feeling the force of his eyes through her tight shirt.

"So you can't really blame me for not recognizing you." His smile was relaxed now. Wicked. "I don't know what your excuse is. Or do you have one?"

"I swear I didn't recognize you, Aaron."

"Really."

"Really! No glasses now. Longer hair." She dared to run her fingers through the sandy blond locks. "Completely different context."

He was calm now. In control. Pinning her to the spot with his gaze, making her squirm in the most delicious way.

"You were so quiet in class, but I could tell a lot was happening under the surface. And the papers you turned in were beautiful. I don't get to read a lot of beautiful papers."

Thank you, she was about to say. What came out instead was, "I don't want to hear about my beautiful papers right now."

His eyebrows shot up.

She slipped her hands under his coat. His wool sweater was soft yet prickly under her palms. He caught her wrists in a tight grip. The suddenness made her gasp.

"Dinner first," he said firmly. "We'll talk."

"I don't want to just talk."

His hand tangled in her hair and closed in a fist. She inhaled sharply. "Brat."

"We can have dinner afterwards." Her heart beat madly, stunned at her own forwardness.

"And do what beforehand?" The hand in her hair twisted, pulling her head back, forcing her to look at him.

She hesitated.

"Tell me, baby girl." His eyes narrowed. This was the Aaron she'd come to know over the past week. Dirty, dominant, soaked in lust.

Her cheeks bloomed red. "Right here in the bar?"

"You want it, I expect you to ask for it. Explicitly." He wasn't smiling now.

Her courage was about to flee. She swallowed hard. For Aaron, she could do this.

"I want you to take me back to your place." Her voice came out a whisper. "And I want you to teach me."

He exhaled, and his eyes turned to slits. "Teach you what?"

"Everything."

"Mia..." He drew her name out in the sweetest caress. "What a little slut you are. You're even naughtier than I thought."

Her chest rose and fell, too excited to respond. She managed to squeeze out one sentence.

"Does that mean you're okay with it?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"With us?" she pressed.

He surveyed her slowly. His gaze set her whole body on fire. That mischievous smile flickered over his face.

"Button your coat, sweetheart," he said. "We're going home."

He held her hand firmly as they left the bar. Mist dampened the air, and streetlamps cast pools of light in the early evening.

Mia stiffened as Aaron led her confidently down a maze of streets. God, she was trusting him completely. A week of dirty texts, a sense of safety because she'd liked him as a professor — was that enough to go on?

He squeezed her hand. "Okay, baby?"

"I'm nervous," she blurted.

"In a good way or in a bad way?"

"I'm not sure."

He stopped and took her face in his hands. "We're not going to do anything you don't want to, sweet girl. We can stop any time."

"Does that turn you on that I'm nervous?"

His eyes crinkled, and she immediately felt better. "When you're shy, absolutely. Worried, no. Are you sure about this?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Good."

"What do you like about me being shy?" she ventured, as they slowed in front of a narrow building and turned in the front gate. Her heart pounded at the thought of going into Aaron's house...stripping naked for him...

He considered her. "It's sexy to know that you have layers and you're peeling them back for me. I'm shy too."

Mia gaped at him. "Shut up. You are? I can't believe that. You seem so confident. So in control."

"Years of practice." He winked at her. "Every semester on the first day of classes, I get nervous. Have to give myself a pep talk in the mirror. Run a few miles. Can't eat, can't sleep."

She eyed him suspiciously as he unlocked the front door. "You're just trying to make me feel better."

His smile made her melt. "Is it working?"

His flat was attractive: brick walls, plants in the corner, records scattered on the coffee table. The cozy mess made her feel at home. But she barely had time to take it in, because he tossed his coat on the couch, backed her against the wall and covered her mouth with his.

The kiss took everything and left her gasping.

"I know you're shy, baby." He loomed over her with a devilish smile. "But right now, I want you to undress for me."

She turned bright red. Even though she'd shown him everything on camera already.

"I want to," she blurted, "but I'm scared."

He took her face in his hands. "Mia, you asked me to teach you."

"Then help me do it."

He kissed her more softly, his lips grazing hers, as his warm hands cupped her face. Slowly, they moved down her neck, unbuttoning her jacket. When it gaped open, he slid his hands inside to rub her shoulders.

Bit by bit, Mia relaxed. The kiss became harder, deeper, more passionate. His hands moved to her collarbone. Then her neck. Then her cleavage, stroking her breasts above her low-cut shirt, slipping down every so often to graze her nipples through the clingy fabric.

Dimly, she understood what he was doing. He was getting her accustomed to his touch. Making her want more, to the point where she'd ask. Even beg.

She tore her mouth from his. It wasn't easy.

"Please." She locked eyes with him. "I — I want more."

"Mia..." he chastised. "You know better than that. Be direct. Be specific."

"Damn you, this isn't an English paper." She started to giggle.

He fixed her with a look. "Are you questioning my methods?"

"Yes, Dr. Taylor." She shook with laughter.

A grin sneaked across his face and vanished in an instant. He took her chin in a firm grip.

"Baby, if you want more, I expect you to tell me what and how. Of course, I could also just spank you until you comply."

Her laughter evaporated. "I want you to take my clothes off for me."

His voice dropped. Softer, more dangerous. "Aren't you a demanding little thing?"

The next second, her fuzzy jacket was on the floor. He pulled off her tight shirt, expertly undid her lacy bra. It was all so fast, which just added to the sudden shock of his hands on her breasts.

She was breathing so fast, she thought she'd explode.

Aaron grinned down at her. "You're turned on, aren't you? You have such luscious tits." He pinched her plump pink nipples, and she gasped. "You're blushing, Mia. I like that. All the way down to those gorgeous breasts. Touch yourself for me."

She looked down, her hair hanging in her face, as she cupped her heavy tits and lightly rubbed her thumbs over her puckered nipples.

"Good girl," he crooned, brushing the strands of purple hair away from her breasts. "Stand up straight, give me a full view."

Her chest rose and fell as she straightened, thrusting it out. But her eyes remained downcast. She was embarrassed, but she was also fascinated, watching her own nipples get even tighter and harder, knowing Aaron was watching too...

A fist in her hair jerked her head back. His eyes were dark with lust.

"I said, stand up straight, Mia."

Her pussy throbbed with excitement. She let out a whimper. She was soaked, so soaked under her short plaid skirt.

"Yes, Aaron," she breathed.

"You know..." he mused, a smile growing on his face as he surveyed her. "You really frustrated me in class last year."

"Me?"

"Uh-huh." He traced her full lips with one finger. She crossed her legs, trying to seek relief from the insistent ache in her cunt. "I saw how smart you are, how brilliant and insightful, and I wished, just once, that you would open your mouth."

Her lips parted, and he pushed his finger in. She sucked on it in a rush of excitement.

"You always hid yourself." A warm hand squeezed her breast. "Your body, your mind. You kept yourself a secret. That's right, baby, keep pinching those pretty nipples for me."

She was shaking, barely able to stand.

"I tried to help you come out of your shell. Do you remember? It's all coming back to me now."

She nodded frantically.

"You'd get this look in discussions like you wanted to say something. Once I asked if you wanted to contribute. You turned bright red and shook your head."

He unzipped her short skirt. It fell around her ankles. She let out a whimper, staring up at him with glazed eyes as he fucked her mouth with his finger.

"And there was the time I called you over after class." He worked his hand inside her black tights, stroking her soft stomach. "You'd written such a strong paper, and I wanted to share it with everyone as an example."

Mia's head swirled. She remembered. He'd given her such an encouraging smile. It made her feel warm inside, and she could barely look at him. She'd agreed to let him share the paper, but she'd wanted to crawl under her desk when he did.

"I hoped you'd be proud," he murmured. "You deserved to be. And I want you to be proud now."

He pulled his finger from her mouth, kissed her softly, and tugged down her tights and panties together.

Instinctively she covered her pussy with her hands. God, she wanted him so much, but she was so nervous... And, hell, hoping for that stern voice again. Maybe even a spanking.

Instead, he rubbed her shoulders, his voice reassuring. "It's okay, baby girl. I've already seen your pretty cunt, remember? I've watched you play with your sweet clit. You even spread yourself for me so I could see your tight little hole, oozing with horny juices. You were such a good girl, coming for me. And I know you're going to be a good girl for me now."

"Did it turn you on, Aaron?" she whispered, hungry to hear the answer she already knew. "Did you like seeing me touch myself?"

He chuckled softly. Dangerously. "You have no idea how many loads I shot, imagining my cum spraying all over your tender pink lips. Dripping from your little cunt after I fucked you deep."

Trembling with need, she moved her hands away from her mound, eager to show herself to him now.

"Fuck," he hissed.

Very lightly, he traced the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair and the tender skin surrounding it. She let out a whimper, and he smiled. She felt incredibly exposed, naked for him with her tights and panties around her ankles while he stood over her, fully dressed. She'd never been so excited in her life.

Gathering courage, she ran her hands over his arms and chest, exploring his body in turn. Her juices oozed down her thighs. He dragged his finger between them, collecting her cream, until he met soft bare lips.

"Oh God, Aaron, yes—"

Slowly, deliberately, he cupped her pussy and stroked his middle finger along liquid heat. When he grazed her clit, she gasped.