tagFetishYouthful Control

Youthful Control


I knew what I was doing. Even if I was still in my teens I was very aware of what control I could wield. I was young enough that I didn't understand that what I did today would affect me tomorrow fully. It was a live in the moment world and I wanted to live a lot of moments.

He was so cute. All the girls adored him and he seemed oblivious. He had to be oblivious, I thought, or the constant attention of throngs of teenage girls would drive him mad. It made me smile thinking about it.

"Now that I'm eighteen," I said to him standing over his desk after the bell had rung, "you won't get arrested."

He laughed. Laughed pretty hard actually. He said that he was sure there was a law against high school teachers and students and if there wasn't, it was morally wrong. We both laughed. He thought I was joking.

"You've got to start spending more time getting ready for these tests," he handed me a paper with a big circle surrounding a "C-". I was not happy. I needed to get an A in this class to keep my scholarship to college.

I moved around his desk and got down on my knees. I had worn a shirt that revealed my soft breasts. I thought about how I had endured so much teasing when I was younger about them. People would tell me I stuffed my shirt and they'd call me nasty names. They had made me self-conscious, but now, I could see the boys staring at them. I could see the desire in their eyes.

"Mr. Potter," I put my hand on his knee and looked up into his eyes. I tried to look as sad as I could. I tried to look vulnerable. "Please, help me. I'll do extra credit, anything."

I noticed two things right away. His eyes weren't looking into mine at all, they were looking far lower than that and that his body had instantly stiffened under my touch.

I hadn't had much experience up this to point. Sure I had gone through the usual growing up things. I had kissed boys and done the usual, I think, teen explorations. There was something about turning eighteen though, something that made me feel like I was a woman, though my years would say otherwise to most.

I didn't know how to proceed. How was I going to seduce him? Could I do it right at his desk? What if we got caught? I was nervous.

"We can work something out," he turned his head away and gulped. "I mean I could help find you a tutor."

A tutor wasn't what I had come for. I had come for an A, and though a tutor might have helped me get an A it was more work and less fun.

"But Mr Potter," I put my head on his lap, "wouldn't you be the best tutor you could find?"

I actually felt his pants shift. I didn't know if he was hard or not. I really didn't understand what hard was. I just knew that I felt something.

I stayed like that for a couple of seconds. He was silent. I wonder now what was going through his head. If anybody had seen us at his desk like that I'm sure he would have been fired.

"Okay, please," he gently pulled me up by my shoulders, "I'll help you. Is Thursday at six okay?"

I sighed. I didn't know how, but part of my plan was working.

I had no clue what to do. I didn't even know how I was going to get him to give me an A. I knew I was going to flirt with him, but how much flirting was it going to take? I got excited daydreaming about it. About the things we would do. The kissing and the touching he might require to be convinced that I deserved a good grade.

I started feeling something dominate my thoughts. He had the power to please me with a good grade if I had the power to please him to give it to me. The mere thought of it was sending me deeper and deeper into lust. How I wanted that power.

"He agreed," I called my best friend, "I'm so nervous!"

We talked until I got to her house where we talked some more.

"I can't believe it," Marie said as we plopped down on her bed, "you're going to Mr. Potter's house!"

"Be quiet," I whispered, "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone."

We talked and giggled about what might happen for a while. While it wasn't unusual for us as girls to babble about for hours, this time the content of the babbling was much more adult. Then I sprung my intimate detail on her.

"I'm getting, you know," I nodded down to my waist, "thinking about the power trip of seducing him to make him give me an A."

I couldn't tell what the look on her face was. Was she letting it sink in? Did she not understand and I had to explain better? I started to say something but she stopped me.

"Have you ever even?" she sounded shocked and barely finished her sentence. "I thought he was just going to help you study?"

"No," I gave her little push, wondering if she meant ever had sex or not, "and not like that silly, I was going to flash him some cleavage, breathe in his ear, rub my chest against him a little. Hopefully make him kiss me and give me an A"

"You're going to have to do more than that to get an A," she slowly came out of her shock and gave a little chuckle. "I've got an idea. I'll be right back."

She ran out of the room leaving me there. What did she think? She'd have sex with him? That idea hadn't crossed her mind. Why would it? She had always pictured her first time with her first love. A special thing.

Marie came running back into the room out of breath. She shut her door and locked it, the silver disc in her hand reflecting light all around the room.

"My brother has hundreds of these," she smiled, "he won't miss one for a couple of hours."

She put the disc into the machine.

"Do you want me to turn it off?" she asked me several times right at the beginning. I always shook my head no. It was like a train wreck. I didn't want to watch but I had to. The sights and sounds were so disturbing, yet so erotic. I felt myself drawn in.

We sat there together through the first scene. I snickered at the absurd story line. A young man had come home to find his step mother naked on the couch amid piles of unfolded laundry. She was masturbating. I couldn't help but stare. Her body was so different. Her breasts so hard, large and tight, barely moving. Her pubic area bare, a tattoo of a star in the middle of it.

Then he joined her. He was very muscular and handsome. A very sexy man that I would have taken a second look at on the street. He stood over her slowly undressing.

I gulped.

Until that point I had never seen a man's hard penis before. I had sort of felt it through pairs of jeans and even touched one a couple of times, but only in the dark. I had no idea what it looked like.

His was, I later found out, abnormally large. It was daunting. I watched as the woman barely slid it halfway into her mouth, the spit dripping to her chin. Is this what sex was? I felt both turned on and disgusted.

Boys had always begged me to put them into my mouth and I couldn't imagine the thought of it. The same thing they pee with in my mouth or any other part of my body was a thought too disgusting to bear. Yet, watching her sucking him, I felt something inside of me. Hearing his moans of pleasure sent shivers through me. I was conflicted.

I continued watching in a daze. The scene shifting to him using his mouth on her, sucking her breasts. That was exciting. The image of a man sucking on my breasts came to my head. How the boys that I let play with my breasts always got so excited, filling their pants with juices almost against their will. I felt the disgust ease and pleasure started to completely overtake me.

I looked at Marie. I could hear her panting. She was excited too, her eyes glued to the screen, her face glowing in it's light.

The scene shifted to a woman behind a desk wearing a business suit another young man standing in front of her she started commanding him to remove his clothes and suck her feet.

The feelings of power I had felt were making this scene work my body into a frenzy. Several times I thought of telling her to turn it off, but each time I found myself waiting to hear her next command. Waiting to see him willingly follow it.

She had him between her thighs and then laid him down on her desk and straddled his face. I started wondering about Marie's brother's choice of movie. Strong older women taking advantage of a young boy. Is that what he was like I had asked Marie but she never answered. She just kept watching. Her breathing was getting more and more erratic as was mine.

The scene shifted again and we both gasped in unison.

A bare busted brunette in her mid-forties was pressed tight against the wall pleading with a young blond girl to stop touching her to no avail. The girl was sucking her breasts, her hand tight around the older woman's neck.

The woman didn't resist for long and the two of them soon found themselves wrapped in each other's nude embrace frantically kissing as if they were made with desire.

The sight of two women, their bare breasts touching each other, kissing was something that was completely foreign to me. If I had thought about it ever before that point, I hadn't thought enough to remember it. No, this was the first time that two women making love, having sex really, had ever occurred to me.

I was afraid to look at Marie. I didn't want to see her. I was afraid of what I might see. Was she enjoying this? The thought of what she was thinking was what I found exciting. I reached for her hand to squeeze it. I was scared at how much I was enjoying watching.

"Is it okay if I touch myself," Marie panted, "I can't take this anymore."

She didn't wait for an answer and pressed her hand tight between her clothed legs. I stopped watching the video and turned and looked at her. She was panting heavily her body shaking. Her face was so beautifully twisted in pleasure.The outline of her nipples pressed tight against her bra and shirt.

"I'm sorry," she moaned, her palm still tight between her legs.

"Don't be," I whispered, "I'm really excited to."

I started to touch myself. I don't know why. Maybe because of all the lustful thoughts I had been having all day, I couldn't resist. It felt so good and natural to do, even with my best friend next to me. I felt my own breathing start to shift. My body and mind were on erotic overdrive.

My abdomen fluttered as I felt Marie's hands reach under my shirt and touch my breasts. Her hands were so soft and gentle. Men, boys really, were always pawing at me like I was some sort of squeeze toy. I shivered. I can't be enjoying her touch, I thought, that would make me a lesbian.

Still I let her touch me until she had my breasts out of my bra and into her gentle caress. I felt my stomach rising to my throat. What were we doing?

I reached my hands out to her and pulled her closer to me. I felt for her breasts. She had already unhooked her bra and I put my hands around them. I felt my body shake as for the first time I had another woman in my sexual grasp. Her breasts were small, but every touch I gently gave them made Marie pant and moan like she was going to give me all of her love.

I too couldn't help but pant and moan, her hands holding the weight of my breasts and sending sensations that I cannot describe through me.

I leaned into her and smiled. We sat like that, eye to eye our noses against each other, for a long time, feeling each other's breasts and back, neck and ears. I ran my hand through her soft billowing blond hair.

Then we kissed.

Really small little pecks at first that slowly evolved into our mouths opening. She darted her tongue against mine, I went searching for hers. Our hands never left each other. While our lips explored each other's mouths, our hands explored our bodies.

We kissed for a long time. The movie had ended but we didn't care. We were so excited we couldn't care.

We rolled and rolled, her on top of me, me on top of her. We kissed a whole lot. We started using our mouths to explore each other's breasts and back.

She unbuttoned my pants and let her mouth linger on the top of my panties. I felt my body flood with love. The mere thought of letting another person, a woman, so near to my sex sending me into madness.

It was exhilarating and neither of us could contain our lust forever.

I felt her leg wrap tight around my thigh and I did the same to her. We locked in embrace as our bodies shook uncontrollably, soft moans escaping our kisses. We let our bodies melt into each other until, our breasts held in our arms tight bondage, our panties sticky with the abated excitement, we collapsed, panting.

"You never tell anyone about this right," Marie panted her bare chest pumping up and down, "I don't want anyone to think we're lesbians."

We laughed.

I still don't know what came over us that day. It wasn't something that I had ever considered even remotely, but like Pandora and her box, it was out. The thought of her gentle kisses and the ecstasy of her slow soft touch was unbearable. Nothing like what I had experienced to that point. My sexual desire was awakening.

The time came to visit Mr. Potter and I was a bundle of nerves.

I straightened out my shirt and pressed my breasts together. I wanted to have ample cleavage available for his viewing pleasure. Thoughts of the night with Marie were still fresh in my head. The things they did on the video. The thing the two of us did together. I felt my belly begin churning in lust.

I knocked on the door.

"Can I help you?" a beautiful red headed woman answered the door. "Are you here for my husband?"

Mr. Potter was married? He never said anything about that. I had no idea. Did he wear a ring? I had never looked. He didn't have pictures on his desk or anything. No, I didn't know he was married, I thought my plan was ruined.

"Yes," I stammered holding my books over my chest, "he said to meet him here at six."

She invited me in and we sat on a couch and talked about little things. Why I was there, how I had a scholarship to Brown but I needed to keep my grades up or I wasn't going to be able to go. She said I was smart to ask for help and that she knew her husband would be able to get me straightened out.

I looked at her. She was a beautiful woman. Her breasts were full yet her body thin and alluring. Her red hair was striking against her pale skin. That's why Mr. Potter was oblivious to all the girls at school, his wife was so gorgeous none of them could compare.

"I'm home," Mr. Potter walked into the living room and excused himself for being a few minutes late. "Should we go to my study?"

I followed him through his house to his study. The house was so nice and big and there were books everywhere. On shelves in the living room, in the hallway, up the stairs and in the kitchen. If there was a bare spot on the wall I couldn't find it.

"We should start with last weeks test and what went wrong," Mr. Potter closed the door and sat down behind a wooden desk. "You know history isn't hard, it's just studying."

I leaned forward. Even if his wife was hot, I could see him leering towards my chest. I had learned young that the sight of that patch of skin, the dark line running down it, was irresistible to men. I started feeling powerful again and thoughts of the strong women in the porn I had watched were overcoming me. I bit my lip.

"I see," I moved next to him at his desk rather than across from him. I wanted him to feel me near him. Seeing him look at me made me think maybe my plan didn't fail. The thought of me being so close to him, my breasts touching him, while his wife was in the house filled me.

I leaned my chest into his arm and looked over his shoulder, letting my soft breaths drift towards the back of his neck and ears.

I felt it again, the stirring and shifting, his body suddenly becoming rigid.

"So the civil war didn't end at Gettysburg?" I cooed softly, "I thought that we won."

He bent his neck when I talked. If he was uncomfortable, he wasn't saying it. I think he just wanted to stop me from being so close. He kept shifting a little further away each time I'd get closer.

"You can touch them you know," I finally broke down. More from wanting a sexual release than whatever silly plan I had concocted. I was excited and getting more and more so by the minute.

"Listen," he immediately jerked. "You need to stop this right now. I think we're done."

He turned his chair and faced me. He was so cute. So tormented looking. I wanted to rub my hand through his hair. He was just like any of the boys. Nervous, scared and excited. I could see him still looking at my chest and I saw the lump in his pants. It was big. This time I knew what it was capable of doing.

It was capable of granting me an A.

"Do you want me to give out a little scream?" I looked down at him and slowly pulled the top of my shirt over my breasts, taking the bra with it, I exposed them to him.

His face had so many looks. Contorted agony, lustful desire, and immense fear seemed evident. His eyes opening wide, staring directly into my chest.

"Or you can touch me," I pressed his legs apart in the chair and leaned towards him, "give me an A and I'll be quiet as a mouse."

I didn't even know what hit me. I felt power running through my veins. My nipples instantly shot forward and tightened. I could feel the heat of his body everywhere. I wanted him to touch me more than I wanted that A. I wanted the power that came with him caving into his desire.

He sat there shaking his head no but his hands didn't listen. Slowly they came to my breasts and rubbed them. He wasn't just like the boys, I thought, he was more like Marie. Soft and gentle, yet big and strong. I felt my body shudder.

"Kiss them," I whispered into his ear, my hands rubbed all through his hair. "Suck on them, it's okay."

His body jerked and shook. This time not to get away, but to press towards me. I thought about his wife and felt even more powerful. He couldn't be caught like this. It would end his life. He'd be divorced and lose his job.

Whether it was because of the immense feeling of power or the touch of his lips against my nipple, I felt my body convulsing uncontrollably. I didn't know it then, but I was having an orgasm unlike ones I had previous experienced. I had only had a few my entire life, none of them felt like at all like this. I shook slowly and rhythmically, the pleasure writhing through me. Gently his mouth switched to my other nipple.

His mouth was as tender as his touch. I couldn't stop shuddering. I don't know if I was still having an orgasm or if I was just insanely turned on but I couldn't stop. His mouth felt so warm and good against my chest.

"Honey," he panted softly, "I can't do this. My wife. I'll give you an A. Please stop this."

Hearing him beg like that changed my life. I felt the power that I had imagined. I had thought it was going to be much more romantic than it was, but it wasn't the romance that was important to me. Not then at least. It was the power. The power of feeling him submit to me. To have him beg me.

"Okay, Mr. Potter,"I pouted, "I understand."

I reached my hand down to his loins. I wanted to touch him just once. To feel the hardness that I created. When I touched him, however, I felt his cold wet desire soaking him. I made him come in his pants like I had to the young boys I had dated. That I could make him do that, an older more experienced man, sent shivers through me.

I smiled and slowly pulled my bra back down over my breasts and arranged myself neatly.

"I'm sorry," I looked down a the floor shyly. "I don't know what came over me."

"I do," he said bluntly almost irritated.

I gathered my stuff and quickly showed myself out. I didn't want to see his wife. I wondered how he would comb his hair and get his pants taken care of without her finding out, but I didn't care. I had gotten what I came for and had opened up a door to a life with a whole lot more.

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