by Lucian Bane
There were fifty questions in all and she’d missed ten. Not that bad. He’d missed six. She hurried to see which six through the racket of angry couples. He put she was religious, she’d put no. She was a good cook? A domestic goddess? She snorted at that lie. She paused at one and her stomach knotted. He’d said she wasn’t honest! What the fuck? Like what? She looked at him but he wasn’t giving her the time of day. She scanned the rest of the paper for the last two. She gasped again at seeing he’d said she didn’t talk to him about spending money. Oh my God, she didn’t even spend any! Her final gasp came at him saying he thought she didn’t trust him!
By the time he looked at her, all those cute teacher fantasies had gone poof. He held innocent hands up and she shook her head, looking back down to find where she’d gone wrong about him.
No, where he’d gone wrong about him. The way he’d gone wrong about her. This was what echoed in the racket around her. All the couples had the very same accusation while Lucian lowered his head with a chuckle.
“Okay,” he announced, clapping once. “Everybody, eyes up front please.”
They all gradually settled down, save a few lingering murmurs of bitter accusation, Susan among them.
“What did we learn here?”
The class exploded in the same racket as before and Lucian yelled with surprising volume, “Hey!” with his hands raised in a STOP manner.
They all went quiet again. “I didn’t mean for you to actually answer that. Look at my wife.” Tara suddenly bolted forward in panic. “You may not know it, but right now, she’s pissed at me. Because I got some things wrong on the test. She got some things wrong about me on the test too. The question is, am I wrong about me? Or is she wrong about me? Am I wrong about her, or is she wrong about her?”
He put both palms on the edge of the desk and crossed his ankles, making his cock bulge provocatively, pissing her off further. “Is it possible that maybe others know us better than we know ourselves? It’s something we need to consider. So, before you stay upset too long about the answers you read, remember that how you see yourself and how others see you are rarely the same. If I asked my wife,” again he gestured to her with a hand, “‘Am I nice guy?’ Her answer might be ‘Well, you’re kind of intimidating.’ My answer would be ‘Yes! I’m very nice!’ Who is right? That obviously depends on who is answering that question—the one who thinks they’re being nice—or the one they think they’re being nice to.
“The point of this exercise was not to show who is right and who is wrong, but rather to show what we think about each other, or how we perceive each other. Isn’t that what counts? Ricky here likes to love his wife by working hard. His wife likes to be loved with an occasional card or bouquet of flowers. What is important here? How he wants to love or how she wants to be loved?
“Both are important!
“So, I’m highlighting here that we all have differences. Differences in perception, in desires, wants, needs and dreams. It’s not what we know about each other that we want to get at, it’s what we don’t know about each other and ourselves that we want to get at. And once we get at that, we can negotiate how to meet those needs with each other.
“It’s never what one of us wants, it’s what both want. But wants must be defined. What do you want Tom? What do you want Hannah? Boyd? You have to know yourself to answer that. That’s what this semester is about. Who are we? Who did we marry?
“Are you all following me?”
The murmurs in the class indicated that the previous hostility was largely diffused with that bit, except Tara’s.
“Okay, so the next section of this class will be done for homework. You’ll be taking page five home—as well as your test results from tonight to discuss nicely with each other—and leaving the rest of your packets here. Try not to be too offended over this exercise tonight,” Lucian angled a gaze at Tara with that, “but rather try to understand their perception. Ask them why they feel that way, what makes them see it that way. Remember that looking inside from out is a different angle than looking outside from in. It’s like that football game shot in three locations. It’s not that any one angle is wrong, it’s that the cameras each capture things the others can’t, giving a more complete picture.”
“And what if their camera lenses are foggy with anger?” a deep voice asked.
Lucian looked around. “I’m sorry, who said that?”
“I did.” Darrel tossed a hand up at the back.
“Good question,” Lucian said. “I’d say you need to cleanse that lens.”
The scruffy forty-something-year-old man eyed Lucian with an odd gleam before lowering his gaze and nodding. “Fair enough.”
Tara had turned to look and noticed his wife roll her eyes. Made her wonder about their story. She’d agreed to the classes for the money right off. She complained a lot about finances and lack of material things. Spoiled Vicky. She’d assured us that her husband would go but the tone was threatening, making it clear who wore the pants in the marriage, and likely family.
“Over the weekend you’ll each be answering the ten questions for homework and we’ll be talking about those answers next Tuesday. Oh yeah, there’s also a ‘100 Things You Need To Know About Your Spouse’ that’s attached to page five to go over.
“And one last thing.” Lucian went to the board and pointed to what he’d written earlier. “If you’re not as honest as you know how to be, none of this will work. There can be no fixing things if the parts keep saying they’re not broken. And here’s a clue. We’re all broken in some way. Maybe a little maybe a lot. Life bends us, shapes us, molds us, makes us, breaks us. Not a damn thing for us to be ashamed of, but it’s something we need to come to grips with. No need to cry about it, mope about it, be pissed about it, holler about it, moan and groan about it. It’s something we face and deal with. Because whether we like it or not, whether we realize it or not, want it or not, we have to take responsibility for who we are from this day forward. We’re at the wheel now. We’ve got the reigns, this is our ship, our journey, our call. We make the call. We make what we are, from here on out. We decide our destiny. Not your mother, not your father, not your ex-wife, or the girlfriend that screwed you over. Not the teacher that made you feel like a failure, not the friend that bailed on you and certainly not the God you think forsook you.
“Burn it,” Lucian said, coming to stand in front of the class. “Burn it all and start over. Start with what you’ve got and where you are. You’ve got a husband and you’ve got a wife. You’ve got kids that count on you. You’re here to learn how to be better women and men, better wives and husbands, mothers and fathers. And most of all you’re here to learn how to be happy and fulfilled.
“We can all fucking use a little of that, right? You follow what I’m saying? You with me?”
The tone in the solemn murmurs indicated Lucian had hit a lot of nerves in his little speech. He’d certainly hit hers. She was stunned with him. Had he recited this? Who was this man that suddenly appeared at the front of the class spouting things like he’d said them a million times? It was almost eerie.
Chapter Nine
Tara thought company would never leave. Including Steve and Susan. She’d decided to make the excuse of a headache and went take a shower, ignoring Lucian’s heated gaze that promised he was right behind her. She didn’t want him right behind her. She was still pissed over those answers.
She finally stepped out of the stall to find Lucian sitting on the commode waiting for her. Nude. As hard as she tried to not stare, that’s exactly what she did. Stood there and stared at his giant dick, big as ever between his hands, standing impossibly tall. Was his body growing too or was it an illusion with the way he held it?
Tara jerked away, annoyed with her body’s need to immediately know the answers to those silly questions. What about the other questions? The ones he’d gotten grossly wrong. That made her a technically bad wife? She wrapped the towel tightly around her and yanked the hand towel off the
rack and wiped the fog off of the mirror.
“You’re pissed still, I see.”
“No,” she said.
He chuckled. “Where are you going?”
“What do you mean?”
“I see you have day clothes to change into.”
“Oh, maybe I’m going shopping without telling you. And lying about what store I’m going to because I don’t trust you to know. Or maybe I thought company might never leave and so got regular clothes to change into.”
He stood and she immediately backed up into the counter in anticipation of his bullying sex appeal. “Don’t you even want to know why I said those things?”
“Yes, I do,” she muttered, locking her gaze on his.
“You seem to have some preconceived ideas of what I meant by them.”
“How many ways can you mean those things?”
He stepped closer until his cock would have touched her had he been holding it out still. “I didn’t mean that you spend money without asking. I meant you don’t talk to me about spending money. In general. You just let me do all the deciding.”
Shit. Tara had certainly not considered that. But still. “So it’s so bad because I let you decide?”
“I never said it was bad. I just said you don’t. Why would you assume I thought that was bad?”
Double shit. “You said I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t.”
“How can you say that?”
He angled his head at her. “You worrying I’ll get bored with you? Worried I wouldn’t show up at our wedding? Worried I’ll stop loving you if you get fat? Worried I’ll leave you? Hmm?”
She swallowed.
“Did you think I was upset with you about that? It hurts me that you don’t trust me, yes, but even more that there is still something in you broken and keeping you from being happy and feeling safe. That hurts me. And you hide all of it. Which is the same as lying to me. ”
Tears suddenly flooded her eyes and she turned to the mirror. A sob escaped her and Lucian wrapped his arms around her from behind. She sobbed again and held his arms, letting him turn her around and hug her.
“Shhhh, I love you,” he whispered, his fingers stroking along her arms and face. “One day you’ll be able to rest in that. I won’t stop loving you until you do.”
She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his safe warm chest, letting the tears come. God did they come. Some hidden dam behind the last dam. How many dams were there? “I’m sooorrryyyy,” came the wail finally.
Lucian lifted her in his arms and carried her out. “Nobody’s here sweetheart,” he said when she tried to look around. “You need to rest, it’s been such a long day for baby and mommy.”
He laid her on the bed and covered her with the furry blanket at the foot and Tara latched a hand on his neck, pulling him down.
He obliged and cuddled with her until she felt warm and safe. And finally fell asleep.
****
Lucian paced in the classroom. “Preacher, it was fucking amazing,” he whispered.
He chuckled. “Tell me.”
“One minute I was scared shitless like a little girl and suddenly I had this huge revelation with my eyes open!”
His laughter boomed and he muttered, “With your eyes open, I like that.”
“Yes, I mean not a dream, this was real. It was crazy, and then I started class and information just poured out of me! I wondered why I was ever worried, it just flowed without even trying. Everything was so clear and true and awesome! I know that sounds arrogant but I’m not shitting you, I was saying things that even I wanted to write down!”
His laughter boomed again. “Bane, Bane, I told you. But I’m glad you got a taste of that. It’s just the beginning my man. God has more. Much more. I’m excited for you Bane. And we’re coming next month by the way.”
“What? Are you serious? How long?”
“Up to the Man.”
“Can I pray you’re staying until the baby comes?”
He chuckled. “You can. But I’d more prefer you pray for His will, not ours.”
Lucian nodded. “I feel you. I got that. So when next month? Tara is going to want to know.”
“Not sure yet. But as soon as I know, you’ll know.”
“We have extra room here if you want to stay. We’d love that.”
“Becca would too. She misses little sister Tara. Now mommy sister.”
“We miss you guys too man. But I gotta go, class is this evening and I have to get ready.”
“Later man.”
Lucian hung up and went to the desk, looking for that paper he’d printed out.
“Hi.”
Lucian spun around at the soft voice of his wife. Heat slammed into his cock at seeing her dressed for class. Extremely short school skirt, long sheer white school socks over her knees and a see through white top, half buttoned. His eyes lingered at her tits. She stood with her hands behind her back like a shy young woman, making them push against the thin material.
The fantasy she’d invoked from the first class roared back in. “Miss Reese,” he said. “You’re early.”
“I’m here for my private lessons.” She bit her lower lip and he realized she had a pony tail in her hair with a fucking bow.
“Are you?” She nodded and Lucian licked his lips. “Have a seat then. In the front row.”
“Yes Sir,” she answered, making him so fucking hard.
He knew she liked acting out her new-adult fantasies and he couldn’t be more thrilled about this one. Being her first for anything and everything sexual was a near psychosis with him. Lucian locked all the doors and checked every blind ensuring they were tight. As he made his way back to his desk, his mind raced with all the scenarios he wanted to indulge in. Having her on his desk with her legs open while he ate her pussy was burning at the top of his list.
He sat at this desk and stared at her, taking in her appearance. She definitely wanted to be the sweet virgin he realized. Never touched. He fucking loved that fantasy, loved being the first to touch her, to make her orgasm over and over.
“So Miss Reese, did you enjoy the last class?” He would engage her verbally first.
“Yes Sir.”
“You look very pretty today.”
“Thank you.” She bit her lower lip, fighting a smile.
“I like those stockings,” he said, angling his gaze at her legs.
“Thank you.” She opened them just enough to show what was between.
His dick got impossibly hard at seeing white. He loved her pussy in white panties. He suddenly decided that he wanted to jack off while she played with herself. “Come to my desk Miss Reese.”
She got up and walked over, holding her hands clasped in front of her.
He let his gaze feast, stroking his index finger over his lower lip while leaning back in his chair. She eyed the bulge of his hard cock and he opened his legs a little with a slow thrust of his hips. “Did you know that I can see your nipples Miss Reese?”
She flickered her gaze lower, not looking at him.
“Yes, I think you do know. I have strict rules for this class Miss Reese. If you break them, you will be punished.”
“What rules, Sir?”
“If you show your nipples to me, you must also show me your pussy. While you play with it. Now turn around and wait for my instructions.”
She turned and Lucian quietly removed his shoes and all of his clothes. He sat back in his chair and stared at her, grabbing hold of his dick and stroking it slowly. “Turn around Miss Reese.”
She turned and stared at his cock, her lips parting with her audible gasp. “Is this your first look at a real cock, Miss Reese?”
She nodded, making desire pound in it.
He cupped his balls and held the base tight, making it stand extra tall. “Do you like my cock, Miss Reese?”
“Yes Sir,” she gasped.
“Take your top off. Leave your skirt and panties.”
She did as he said, her movements perfectly shy and jerky, making his cock pulse. “Have you ever had your pussy licked, Miss Reese?”
She shook her head while standing with her hands clasped before her, making her full tits reach for him.
“Have you thought about it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Mmm,” he stroked his cock very slowly. “Did you think about it in my class Miss Reese?”
“Yes, Sir.” The answer came gaspy, telling her extreme arousal.
He gazed at her hard nipples. “Such a naughty girl. Come and stand next to me.”
She slowly moved so that she stood between his chair and the whiteboard. He tapped the arm of his chair. “Put your foot right here.”
She put one hand on the whiteboard and did as he said, giving him a perfect view. “Your pussy is very pretty in white panties. Do you touch yourself at night?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Show me what you do. Put your hand inside your panties and show me.”
Lucian stroked his cock, having a hard time maintaining casual control. She worked her hand into her panties from the top and leaned against the whiteboard at her back.
“Yes,” he whispered, watching her hand moving in her panties. “Is it hot right there, Miss Reese?” He met her gaze, then grit his teeth as his orgasm pushed in his balls.
“Yes, yes,” she whispered.
He looked at her tits, pressed together. “Your nipples are so very hard. Do you want me to pinch them?”
“Yes Sir,” she strained.
He reached up and stroked the pad of his index finger over the tip and she gave a whimper. “Is your pretty little clit very hot and hard?”
“Yes Sir,” she cried.
He took the large nipple between his thumb and index finger and squeezed until she whimpered. He reached with his other hand and touched her panties below her fingers. “Your panties are wet Miss Reese.”
“God, yes,” she whispered.
“Remove them.”
She quickly did as he said and stood before him, waiting to be instructed.
