by Maria Monroe
"You know what I mean. Yes. I'm going to study journalism." I can't keep the glee out of my voice. This choice feels good. Right.
"Hey, I'm just glad I could help."
We're getting closer to the door when suddenly I see him. Julian. He's wearing his usual jeans and hoodie, and he's got that stance of someone who's totally confident, both taut and casual at the same time, like he's comfortable but ready for anything. His hood is off, and I can see his dark brown hair, wavy and slightly messy, and I think about running my hands through it. What would that feel like, for him to be mine enough so that I could touch him whenever and wherever I wanted to? He's talking to another student, laughing about something, but when he sees us his face freezes, then darkens. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and saunters slowly over.
"Pete," says Julian coldly with a slight nod. "Lia."
"Hey man," says Pete, the nervousness in his voice obvious. "I was just showing Lia around. She's thinking of majoring in Journalism."
"Is she?" says Julian in a cool tone. "I wasn't aware of that. But I'm sure she appreciated your tour."
"I did," I speak up. "Pete, it was really nice of you to do this."
"No problem," he says, his eyes on Julian the whole time. "I gotta run. J, you interested in grabbing lunch?" I can tell he's asking because he wants to show Julian that they're cool, that Julian's words the other night haven't been forgotten.
"Can't," says Julian, looking at his watch. "I have an . . . appointment in less than an hour. I need to get going." His eyes meet mine and hold them a second.
My legs are literally weak. Maybe I'll collapse into a heap right here on the floor. Because oh my god. He's talking about his "appointment" with me. In front of somebody else. The secret feels delicious and forbidden, and I look away, unable to meet his heated gaze any longer.
"Another time," says Pete.
"Absolutely," says Julian. When I glance at him again, he's still staring at me. "Lia. I look forward to seeing you soon." The words are so casual that nobody would notice a thing, but I know exactly what he's referring to, and I feel a pulsing between my legs, a surge of wetness. I blush and look at my feet. By the time I summon the courage to glance up again, he's turning, sauntering away, pulling his hood up as he leaves. Less than an hour. Oh god. Less than an hour.
"He's kind of a dick sometimes," says Pete confidentially, as though he's letting me in on some big secret I need to know. But hearing the word "dick" in reference to Julian at that moment just makes my heart beat faster.
I shrug. "I have to go."
"OK," says Pete. "Call me if you need any more information or have any questions. Or want to get coffee. Or whatever. As friends."
"Sure," I say, and I head back to my room to try to figure out what I'm going to wear to Julian's.
***
My heart has never pounded this hard, and I've never felt this many butterflies in my stomach. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god," I whisper to myself as I hurry to Julian's house. I can't believe I'm doing this, that I'm going right now to meet a hot guy, and not just any hot guy but Julian, for "lessons." The possibilities of what will happen are endless, and since I'm so inexperienced, anything he does will be new to me. I'm giddy with excitement, and I have to fight down the urge to giggle out loud.
By the time I get to the front door of Vanessa and Julian's, I'm so nervous that part of me considers going back to my dorm room, just forgetting this whole thing and pretending I never even met Julian. But curiosity—and excitement—press me on, and I put up a hand and knock on the door. I hear him on the other side of the door, opening it, and I expect things to be awkward at first, but as soon as the door is open enough, he pulls me in, slams it shut, and pushes me up against it. His whole body presses into me, and when I look up into his eyes, they're staring straight into mine.
"Lia," he whispers. "I'm glad you decided to show up for your second lesson. And I was glad to read about how well you did your homework." Then he kisses me with so much intensity that I gasp. His mouth is controlling mine, and I willingly succumb. The feeling of the hard door behind my back and his hard body on my front is intoxicating. His tongue traces my lips, then moves inside my mouth, every touch letting me know exactly how much he wants me and how excited he is that I'm here. He bites my lower lip gently, and the way his breath has quickened makes mine come hard too. I pull back.
"What are you going to teach me today?" I whisper.
He laughs, a low deep sound. "Lia, you don't really think I'm going to spoil the surprise, do you?"
I shrug.
"Answer me, Lia."
"No. You're not going to spoil the surprise?"
"Good. Now go into my bedroom and wait for me."
My stomach flutters, and my pussy clenches. Will he find out that I'm already wet for him? Will he even touch me there today? I shiver in anticipation as I enter his room. I walk around it, looking at the posters again, then at the bed, which is made more neatly than the time I snuck a peek. A grin breaks through my nerves when I think about him making the bed for me. When I sit on the bed, I bounce lightly up and down, edgy and eager.
Finally, Julian returns. He stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just staring at me, his expression unreadable. He sips some of the ice water he's holding, then sets the glass down on the desk. When he closes the door and locks it, the significance of that small movement makes me feel antsy again, the desire in my body surging through me. Who knew that the turn of a lock could be so hot?
He stares at me for what seems like an eternity, then in a low voice says, "Last time, all your clothes stayed on. This time? I think we need to change that. Stand up and take off your shirt."
"What about you?" I stammer. I didn't really have any clear expectations, but this is so strange, him just standing there and telling me what to do.
"Lia," he says evenly. "I thought we established last time who got to make the rules."
I nod, then lift my shirt and pull it over my head. I stand there in my bra, the cool air in the room caressing my naked skin, and look at him.
"Your bra," he says, his voice struggling for control.
Slowly, I reach behind me to undo the clasp, then pull my arms through the straps and let it drop to the floor. Julian breathes in quickly, and that reaction makes the throbbing between my legs even stronger. I love the noises he makes, the sounds that give away how excited he is. He's always so in control, but underneath that exterior I sense a burning hot desire that he can't quite rein in. And I'm the one making him crazy. It's intoxicating.
"You are so hot," he whispers. "I'm going to touch you. Your breasts. Your nipples. You're going to do what I say. If you're good and follow my instructions, I might make you come. Would you like that?"
I nod.
"Say it."
"I would like that."
"What would you like?"
Can I say it out loud? It's sort of embarrassing, but that's overpowered by how turned on I am, and how turned on I'm making him.
"Um, I would like you to make me come," I whisper.
A growl escapes his lips, and his eyes darken, like those simple words have a power over him. "Good. Now, lie down on the bed."
Oh god. I'm so excited and so wet, and just the way he's looking at me makes me want more. I back up slightly until I feel the backs of my legs touch the bed. Once I sit down, I swing my legs so they're stretched out in front of me, then I lower myself so I'm lying on my back, my head on the pillow. I watch him the whole time, watch his lips part the tiniest bit. He slowly walks towards the bed, and my breath hitches, the anticipation filling me so much that I think I could explode.
Julian sits down on the edge of the bed and looks at me for a few moments before reaching out to touch my lips.
"Open," he says hoarsely, and when I part my lips he puts his finger inside my mouth. "Suck," he demands, and I do, watching his mouth open slightly, hearing his breath come out quickly. He withdraws his finger from my mouth
and immediately touches my nipple with his wet finger, then grasps it between his finger and thumb and pulls on it until I moan. He does the same with the other nipple, teasing me with his fingers.
"Has anyone ever touched you like this before?"
I shake my head.
"Say it. Answer me when I ask you a question."
"No. Nobody has ever touched me like this."
"Has anyone ever made you come?"
I shake my head again, then remember he wants to hear it. "No, Julian. Nobody has ever made me come."
"But you've made yourself come?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?" he asks and squeezes my nipple hard.
I gasp. "Yes, I have made myself come." My words come out on a breath of air.
Julian lowers his head; I can feel his breath on my nipple, can feel the warmth of his mouth that's almost touching my skin but not quite. I raise my body up in anticipation, to try to make him do it faster, and he moves back.
"Who's in charge, Lia?" he asks slowly with just the hint of a grin.
“You are. I just . . . "
"You what?" His lips move back to my nipple and gently, so gently I can barely stand it, touches it with the tip of his tongue.
"I just . . . it feels so good."
"I know it does," he whispers against my skin. "There are so many things I will do to you that will feel good. But don’t move unless I say you can. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I moan, part in pleasure and part with the sublime agony of wanting more than he's willing to give at this moment. Now his lips close around my nipple, and he sucks on it, pulling it with his mouth then releasing.
"Tell me," he says, moving fully on top of me now. "Tell me about your homework. I read your note, but I want to hear you say it out loud to me."
"Oh. I don't think . . . "
"What don't you think?"
"I don't think I can say it out loud," I whisper. What words will I use? How will I have the courage to say them to him?
"Do it."
"Julian . . .
"Lia. I'm going to keep touching you as long as you keep talking. If you stop, I stop. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I whimper as he bites my neck gently.
"Tell me. Now."
"OK," I whisper. "When you left my room, I was really . . . excited."
"What do you mean by that?" he whispers into my neck.
"Just . . . you know."
"Tell me." He gets up for a second, and I feel cold air replace the warmth where he was just a second ago. At his desk, he reaches out for his glass of water, and I think he's going to drink some, but instead he reaches his long fingers into the glass and retrieves an ice cube. When he turns to me, a dark smile spreads across his face.
"What are you going to do with that?" My words are so soft I think maybe he can't hear me.
"You'll find out when I'm ready to show you. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good girl. Now, tell me about how you were excited when I left you in your room yesterday."
"I wished you were still there. I wished you were there to touch me some more."
"What else?" He holds up the ice cube, crystal rivulets running down his fingers, and then he looks at me and slowly, so slowly, moves it down to my nipple. When the ice touches me, I jump.
"Ahh!" I cry out.
"Hold still, Lia. I don't want to have to keep telling you. Are you going to cooperate?"
I nod.
"Lia," he says in an exasperated tone. "Say it."
"I will hold still, Julian."
He nods approvingly, then I see his fingers, holding the ice cube, move towards me again. This time when the ice touches my nipple, I breathe in hard and moan, but manage to keep my body from moving. "Oh," I whimper. The feeling is so intense, so cold, yet I feel so, so hot at the same time. It's like the best torture in the world.
"Now," he says in a low voice. "Tell me how excited you were."
"I . . . oh, Julian." He moves the ice from one nipple to the other. "I was so wet, Julian, thinking about you."
He groans, the sound so deep it vibrates in his throat, and he kisses me hard on the mouth, his tongue forceful against mine. "Are you wet now?"
"Yes."
He moves his body slightly, and I can feel how hard he is against me.
"I'm going to see for myself in a few minutes," he responds.
My breath comes harder now. I'm not sure I can wait a few minutes. I don't want to. I want him to touch me so badly it hurts, and I start to move against him, trying to find friction to rub against my clit, which is so full and ready right now.
"Lia," he warns. "I thought I told you to hold still."
"I can't, Julian," I whimper. "It's too hard not to move."
"Why? Tell me why."
"Because . . . because I'm so wet, and it feels like I'm going to die if you don't touch me right now."
"So eager, Lia," whispers Julian, kissing my stomach, then running his tongue lower to the top of my jeans. "I like to see that. I like to know that when I'm ready to be inside of you for the first time—for your first time—you'll be ready for me too."
"Oh," I whisper, arching my body up against his again. I can't help it. "Please."
"Not today."
"Please, Julian."
"No," he says firmly. "But I will touch you if you ask me to." He licks the skin just at the top of my jeans, and I moan. Then I feel the ice—I forgot about it!—tracing my stomach just above my jeans.
"Julian, touch me, please."
"Where would you like me to touch you?"
"Here," I say, moving my hand between my legs and pressing it against my jeans, the fabric damp from my desire.
He does then, finally, rubbing me gently through my jeans. "Lia," he says, his eyes growing darker. "You are so fucking wet already. I can feel it all the way through your clothes."
He rubs me harder now, and I try not to move against his hand, but it's almost impossible.
He takes his hand away suddenly, and I cry out in despair. "No, don't stop, please," I moan, and he crawls on top of me, putting his knee between my legs and pressing it there.
"Now, Lia, you can move. I'm going to help you come, but only through your jeans."
"We can take them off," I moan, desperate to feel his fingers on my wet, bare skin.
"Next time. Maybe. But today? I just want to see how sensitive you are. Move. Now."
He presses his knee against me again, right between my legs, then nudges it slightly, and my hips began to thrust. I try to hold back, try to go slow, but I'm so wet and so hot and the feeling inside me is growing and growing.
"That's right," whispers Julian, staring down at me as I moan and grind against his knee over and over. "I want you to come, Lia. I'm going to watch you."
"Oh god." I can't believe I’m doing this, can't believe I'm here in Julian's bed, can't believe he's staring down at me as my body gets tighter and tighter, as the feeling of ecstasy gets closer and closer. "Julian," I moan. I'm so close now.
"Lia, fuck," hisses Julian as I grind against him harder. "I can't stop thinking about how hard I'm going to fuck you some day."
And I explode, my entire body tensing and tightening, moving against him as the spasms continue. Finally, I lie still on the bed, my breathing finally calming. Julian lies down next to me, and for a long time, I can't move. I'm simply catching my breath, my body more relaxed than I ever remember it being.
"When is Vanessa going to be home?" I finally ask, pulling myself out of the near-doze I'm in.
"Soon," says Julian, but he drapes an arm over my stomach possessively, and I don't want to go.
"OK," I say finally, fighting inertia, and push myself up, but Julian grabs me suddenly, pinning me back on the bed. He kisses me hard, and though I didn't think it possible to become excited so soon after such an intense orgasm, my body responds instantly to him.
"I want you to think about this every night," he whispers into
my lips. Like he has to tell me to do that.
"Is that my homework?"
He laughs. "Do you really think I'd let you off that easy?"
"What, then?"
"Your homework this time is to not come at all until I make you come again. Do you understand?"
"Yes." That won't be too bad if we see each other soon. "When is our next, uh, lesson?"
"On Friday. After class."
"But that's not until the end of the week!" Prior to meeting Julian, that wouldn't have been a problem. But since I've known him, something inside me has begun, a constant ache that grows and grows until I can only temporarily appease it when I become too hot and aroused.
"Don't argue or I'll make it next Friday." His dark green eyes are teasing, his mouth grinning.
"Fine," I pout.
"Get dressed." He spanks my ass just hard enough to sting.
"Ouch!" I gasp, looking at him in shock.
He grins and shrugs, looking suddenly like a kid who just got in trouble.
He's so cute and hot at the same time, and for some reason the stinging makes me feel wet again. Why is it that everything he does get me so excited? I get up and grab my bra and shirt from the floor. When he picks up his glass of water and takes a sip, I see the half-melted ice cubes still floating in the glass, and I shiver at the thought of how the ice felt on my skin.
"What were you doing with Pete?" Julian asks suddenly.
"Pete? He was just showing me around. He's a friend." I pull my shirt on over my head. Julian sounds mad, and a tinge of nervousness tickles my stomach. But what is there, really, for him to be mad about? There's nothing going on with me and Pete, and even if there was, shouldn't that be OK considering Julian and I aren't in a relationship?
"You just met him."
"What I mean is he's just a friend. I have no interest in him."
