by Janae Keyes
“Sounds wonderful. Can I help?” Dora walked over to me, watching what I was doing. I had never had anyone help me before. Unsure I handed her a knife and an onion.
“Um … slice this.” I told her awkwardly, flipping our steaks. I popped the cork on the wine to let it air before cooking.
We stood there, cutting, for a few more minutes as the steaks popped in the background, a symphony of cooking to our intertwining webs, creating a cacophony of sound. Taking the knife from Dora I set her back at the table, removing the steaks from the stove, before I placed the frozen fries with their garlic and herb seasoning, into the oven.
“Sorry, the fries are frozen. I haven’t been able to find my cutter in ages. I think it may have fallen behind the stove.” I sat down at the table with Dora, taking her hand in mine, I gazed into her eyes, waiting for her to say something, anything. Her silence had been making me nervous. She was here, but she wasn’t speaking to me.
“Your house is … nice.” Dora hesitated as she looked around at the mess that was left lying around. I hadn’t had enough time to finish cleaning up from my week long pity party I had given myself. I laughed.
“Yeah. I had a bit of a rough week and forgot to call the maid. He said he’d be in on Monday, after call to straighten the house out.” I hoped that she got my joke.
“You don’t have a housekeeper?” she looked slightly shocked. I suppose it was the size of the house.
“No, I clean the house myself. I can’t afford one. Contrary to my house, I am not rich. I came from a well to do family, but we had a falling out, and they cut me off. Before that happened, I bought this house.” I wasn’t prepared to go into my family history with her yet.
“What about you? Why did you come to Oxford of all places? Not that I am complaining that you are here, Sweet One.” I smiled at her.
“Problems at my old school. And the education here’s better.” Her eyes shied from mine as she spoke, as though she was hiding something. I wouldn’t push her so she wouldn’t push me. If she wasn’t ready to tell me, I would respect her. It was the least I could do to start earning her trust back.
I stood from the table to check on the fries and turned the pan back on to make my reduction. I let Dora wander around as I finished cooking and dishing us up. While she was exploring, I sliced some fresh strawberries, dropping them into the bottom of the flutes I had cleaned earlier. Pulling the chilled champagne from the fridge, I popped the cork and poured the two glasses, setting the bottle in the center of the table.
“Dora? Where are you?” I called as I went looking for her. I went through the upstairs, the different rooms there, into the den, even into the living room to see if she may have decided to watch the telly. She was nowhere to be found. And then I found the door to the basement open. Following the stairs down, I hoped that I had just left it open.
“Dora,” I breathed as I found her standing in the middle of the room, fingers running over the crop I had just acquired. “I can explain.”
Picking it up, she walked over to me, handing it to me. “You said I needed to be punished, didn’t you?”
I had trouble finding my voice. I hadn’t told her that she needed to be punished. But she was offering nonetheless. Looking down at the crop in my hand and the woman in front of me, I decided that dinner could wait.
Grabbing her around the waist, I picked her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, as I headed for the stairs. Capturing her mouth with mine, I planted kisses along her lips, her chin her neck as I walked. I ran my hands along her back, finding her zipper. Unzipping her dress, I let it fall open, reaching my room, I pushed the door open, dropping her on the bed.
“Are you sure you want me to use this? Once you agree there is no going back, Sweet One. You agree to step into my world. To be mine. To listen to what I want you to do, and do so without question. If you say no, then we take a different route, but we both get what we want.” I waited, watching her eyes glazed with passion.
“I want it.”
With that I was on her, dinner forgotten. I stripped her of her dress, throwing it across the room to be greeted with that hot pink bra from her first day of class, and bloody hell, the panties did match! I stood back and looked at her, the hot pink lace glowing off of her mocha skin, the silver pumps sparkling in the moonlight. I was already painfully hard, and this didn’t help. I stripped off my shirt and pants. I didn’t care where stuff landed just that it wasn’t on me any longer.
Grabbing the crop from where it had fallen on the floor, I walked to the bed. “Knees,” I told Dora, my voice taking on a firmer, deeper intonation. My Dom voice. I was going to have her my way, and then I would take her, her way.
“You were naughty, weren’t you? Avoiding me. Making me hurt, not coming after me when I walked away from you. How many lashings do you deserve, Sweet One.” I could barely control my breathing to keep my voice where I wanted it.
Her voice quivered as she answered me. “However, many you think I deserve Ramsey.” Whack!
“When we are playing, or in a scene, you will only refer to me as Professor or Sir. Do you understand me?” I waited for her to respond, my cock bouncing in anticipation of what it knew was coming. Whack! “I asked you a question, Sweet One.” I reminded her impatiently.
“Yes.” Whack!
“Yes, what Dora?”
“Yes, Professor.” Satisfied I continued with her punishment.
“You will get ten smacks with the crop for not coming to me, even though you wanted to. And you will get two more for making us later for dinner. You will count them. And while you count them, you will thank me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Professor,” Dora replied, wiggling her gorgeous, round ass at me.
Whack!
“Thank you, Sir. One!”
Whack!
“Thank you, Professor. Two!”
And so, we continued, with her counting and me whacking her along her ass until we got to twelve. Finally, as she counted the last number, I flicked one last snap across her clit, bringing her crashing over the edge as she screamed my name. I swatted her ass for her foul, massaging where I had just feathered her with lashes.
“Thank you, Professor.” Dora murmured breathlessly, her face buried in my sheets. I grabbed the waist of her panties and tore them down her legs, throwing them down with our discarded clothing, before I flipped her over. Grabbing her ankles, I sat between her legs, boxers straining. I leaned down and kissed the inside of each of her knees languidly kissing up her thighs before finding my reward. Her sweet honey.
Spreading her pussy lips wide, I swiped my tongue from bottom to top, sliding two fingers inside her tight opening as I swirled my tongue around her clit, suckling to bring more sweet juices out of her. Fingering her hard as I suckled and licked, I felt her walls start to contract around my fingers as I pumped them faster, coaxing her orgasm from her. Arching against my mouth, fingers and the bed, she came again.
It was my turn now. Climbing up her body, I removed my boxers. I positioned myself at her welcoming heat, a core that was still constricting, asking for entrance. Nodding to me, I thrust forward, filling her pussy in one motion. Slowly I drove in and out of her, laying on my forearms to massage her breasts, flicking the cups down to caress the perfect mounds and suck on her nipples. I was quickly irritated.
Tearing at her bra, I ripped it over her head, baring her body completely to me and she was gorgeous. Her full breasts, with Hershey kissed nipples staring back at me. I grabbed her legs and wrapped them around me, unable to control myself any longer. I thrust faster and harder, bringing both of us closer to the edge.
I felt my orgasm rising, the ripples rising up my spine, my balls pinching against my cock as it began to throb. Before I knew it, I was leaping over the ledge with Dora, calling her name out as we crashed to Earth together.
“Thank you, Sweet One.” I kissed her on the forehead as I slipped from her, wrapping her in my arms, pulling her to my chest.
; Chapter Twelve
Dora
The scent of old books filled my nostrils as I peered around Ramsey’s room as much as I could. There were bookshelves everywhere, not just in the bedroom, but the rest of the house and I couldn’t wait to dig in.
He held me close, his arms securing me to him, a hand rubbing along my bare back. I was nervous to look up into his eyes. My stomach let out a grumble causing me to groan in response.
“Dora, Sweet One, are you okay?” Ramsey’s voice broke our near silence.
“Yes, just hungry,” I admitted as I finally peered up into his baby blues that brought me a sense of comfort.
“Food, I can give, let me reheat it,” he told me as his arms left me, leaving me aching for his connection. He left the bed and pulled on his boxers, jeans, and t-shirt. “There is a washroom through that door.” He pointed to a door in the corner.
I had nodded in response before he leaned down to me, taking my lips with his for the umpteenth time. Kissing him felt better each time. He’d drawn me into him with such strength, there was no fighting him away, and I didn’t want to.
I was in uncharted waters with him, and all he obviously burned to do to me. I had found his secret room while looking for a bathroom to freshen up. I’d been sweating up something wicked, out of my nerves, and wandered away and into the basement room. A sane person would have run away at the sight, but I found myself drawn in more. Anxious and intrigued by what it all meant. Young and dumb, that’s likely what I’d be described as, but I wouldn’t let that stop me from wanting it, wanting him.
Ramsey sauntered off and out of the room. I lifted myself from his sheets and slipped from the bed, my feet meeting the cool hardwood. I grabbed my panties from the floor as I ventured into the master bathroom.
The style of the washroom matched the house, very much an Edwardian style. I adored the black and white tiles on the floor and the footed tub. It was elegant without trying. The house had history to it, and I absolutely loved it. I wondered what Ramsey knew about the house. I wanted to know more about the place he called home.
My mind ventured to what he said about his family, being cut off. I wondered what he’d done in their eyes to let him loose that way. I couldn’t quite understand the logic of a parent simply snipping away the relationship with their child. My parents would follow and support my brother and I through thick and thin. People always commented how good my parents were for supporting my brother through his journey of being gay. They always told people that they never considered not loving him for who he is, he’s theirs and would always be no matter who he chose to love.
I smiled to myself. I missed my family, as crazy as they could be. My mom had no filter, and my dad rolled with the punches. I wondered what they’d think of me with Ramsey. I knew there would be concerns, but those didn’t alarm me. I liked him and he apparently like me, there was nothing to be concerned about. What he and I had, it felt natural.
My fingers ran across my swollen and slightly bruised lips. He’d done a number on me and fuck. It had been so good. I pulled the pins from the curls that Simon had done into my hair and allowed my tresses to fall just to my shoulders. Taking a washcloth into my hands, I turned on the faucet and cleaned myself up before slipping my panties up my legs.
I’d left my backpack downstairs that held the other clothes I’d brought, and I didn’t want to get back into the dress, even though I felt gorgeous in it. My eyes scanned the room until they saw a shirt of Ramsey’s thrown over an old chair. I remembered the shirt. It was the very teal shirt he’d worn on Halloween night, the night we’d both succumb to our desires.
Leaving the bathroom and bedroom behind, I bounced down the stairs in only my panties and Ramsey’s shirt that smelled of him. I found him in the kitchen placing our plates back on the small table. His eyes were glued to me in an instant.
“Fuck, Sweet One, we might not make it to eating if you keep making me hard like this,” he growled. My cheeks went warm at this comment. I’d never felt so desired.
“I should definitely eat, though,” I said as I grabbed my backpack from near the kitchen door and pulled out my kit. My fingers unzipped the small pouch, and I set up the little machine that sat inside before pricking my finger. I winced at the familiar pain and placed the small droplet of blood on the edge of a strip that came from the machine.
“You’re diabetic?” Ramsey questioned. I nodded as I watched the machine do its job and numbers displayed on the screen, showing my current blood sugar.
“Yeah, I better eat,” I added as I closed up my kit and placed it back into my backpack.
“The steaks might be a little overdone at this point,” he pointed out as he joined me at the table. He cut into the warm beef and took a small portion on his fork, chewing he nodded. “A bit like shoe leather, I apologize.”
“It’s okay.”
We both ate in near silence. I studied the old kitchen. It was obvious he lived alone with the disarray of the room. Plus, he’d informed me he did all the cleaning himself. Even through the small mess, his house was charming.
I pushed my mushrooms around my plate. I was finished eating. Ramsey peered up at me, his eyes looking at my plate, which only contained mushrooms from the delicious sauce he’d cooked up for the steak.
“Sorry, I don’t really like mushrooms,” I admitted to him. I felt terrible that he’d gone through the trouble of making the meal for me. “The onions were amazing, though.”
“I will keep a mental note, no mushrooms.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Sweet One, it’s okay.”
“How long have you lived here?” I asked, intrigued.
“I’ve owned the house for twelve years now. Since I was eighteen. I had to leave it when I was in the States to attend school, but I’ve been back in it full time for five years or so now,” he explained as he stood and began to clear the table.
It was hard not to enjoy watching him. He obviously didn’t have guests often by the way he fumbled about. His normal nature was very different from the man I’d encountered in the bedroom.
Noticeably, he was an introvert, much like me, though I grew up with a family of extroverts. I’d rather spend my time alone, reading, or doing my own thing than to be around others. Lucky for Ramsey, I wanted to be around him.
It was easy to wander away in his house. I’d found myself in another room. There was a large bay window, but I couldn’t see outside thanks to the darkness that blanketed everything. There was a fireplace and bookshelves everywhere.
One shelf was filled with old records. I heard Ramsey enter the room from behind me. My fingers thumbed through all the old records. From Duke Ellington to Dizzy Gillespie, Betty Carter to Miles Davis and more, he had it all. I pulled out a few and observed their mint condition. I knew loads of useless information about music, thanks to my dad.
“My dad would literally kill for your collection,” I told Ramsey aloud as his hands took hold of my hips, his breath on my neck. I shivered at his touch.
“You’ve mentioned before that your dad is a musician.”
“Yeah, in a jazz band. He travels the country with them. I grew up going from one jazz festival to the next during the summers,” I told him, thinking of my childhood that was always filled with music. I remembered being fourteen and my dad calling me up on stage to sing with the band. My nerves had been shot, but from that first note, it all flowed for me, and I sang my heart out.
The feeling of Ramsey’s lips coming in contact with my neck sent me into a near frenzy. Though we’d just had one another, I was already on fire for more. With his touch, I moaned and leaned into him.
“From the first moment I saw you, I needed you. From the first moment I touched you, I had to have you. From the first moment I tasted you, fuck, I craved you and only you,” he spoke against my skin. “I can’t explain what it is about you, Sweet One. It’s wrong, I know it, but I’m not letting you go. This high is too good to let it end
.”
“Don’t let it,” I whispered as I turned to face him, my hands slipping around his neck. “I have a question, though.”
“Ask away.”
“When we’re together, will it always be,” I paused unaware of how to continue. “Will it always be how it was earlier?” I didn’t have the words to express it.
“Not unless you want it. I don’t want to scare you away, I know it’s much to take in. I’ve been properly trained in all of it, and we can always talk about it. I don’t want you to be afraid.” He planted a kiss on my forehead.
“Not afraid, just curious.”
That caused a smile to spread across his face. He ran a finger along my jawline. He barely had to touch me, and I was buckling under him.
“Tomorrow we’ll talk more about it. Discussing limits and whatnot,” he said. His finger traveled down my neck, to my collarbone, and along the swell of my breast.
“Limits?” I questioned.
“What you’re comfortable with and not, but that’s not for tonight. Tonight, I need to be inside you again.” He didn’t need to say more, I kissed him hard, my legs taken up into his arms as I wrapped them around him.
For the second time in the evening, we were back in his bedroom as he laid me on his bed. He ripped his clothes off almost instantly. Ramsey wasn’t some body builder, but he still had a nice body. He was lean with just the hint of a six pack, not chiseled, but noticeable.
A bravery took over me. With him, I didn’t feel timid or shy, but powerful and sexy. Feelings unknown to me, but I wanted to explore them as I crawled to the edge of the bed. I peered up through my eyelashes at Ramsey as I hooked my fingers in his boxers and dragged them down. Ramsey looked a tad concerned.
“I want to,” I breathed as I took his length into my hands. My experience was little, but I knew what I was doing from my previous boyfriends.
