Doing The Students

"50% OFF EVERYTHING!!!" is what the sign read on the window of the candles and pottery store. Never being one to turn down a good sale, I went in. The shelves were pretty much picked over, and most of the good stuff was long gone. What did remained was mostly made in either rainbow or lavender colors, indicating that the store was catering to the local gay and lesbian population. The last thing I wanted was to jeopardize my safe warm place in the closet, so I selected a handful of tea lights. I didn't need a candle or mug proclaiming that I was "proud and out", at least not before I was ready to make that move on my own, and I really did need more tea lights. As I approached the counter, the clerk didn't acknowledge me, and seemed to be more interested in playing with her belly button of all things, then to notice me. She was wearing blue bell-bottom jeans that hung on to her hips with the help of a thick leather belt, a white crop top, a rainbow colored necklace made of rainbow beads and a pair of earth-toned sandals. So much for a dress code. She appeared to be just taller then me, about 5'3" or 5'4", weighing no more then a 100 pound, and had short blonde hair that reminded me of Anne Heche. She could of past for 16, but I knew she had to be at least 18, because this was a college town.

When I was about to make my present known by way of a cough, she said, "I got my belly button pierced last week and it still feels weird. Does it feel okay to you?"

And with that she grabbed my hand and placed it on her abdomen. Has she moved my hand in a circular motion, my mouth went dry and I was unable to speak. She was having mesmerizing effect of me. After a few seconds I was able to pry my eyes away from her stomach to notice that she was staring at me with the nicest hazel eyes you ever saw.

"Do you think it feels okay?" she asked again while touching my arm.

It was then that I realized that I was still playing with her stomach. I quickly pulled my hand away and with eyes unable to hold her gaze I finally said "Nice".

Probably not the best response, but at that moment, I was severely distracted.

"My name is J by the way. J as in the letter J". The clerk informed me.

"I'm Janelle, as in Jan with an elle".

Granted it was a lame joke but J politely laughed and gave me a warm smile that I liked. J told me that she was starting her sophomore year in a few weeks and lived in one of the rooms above the store.

"Would you like to see it, Jan with and elle?" She asked.

Every ounce of my body said this wasn't a good ideal. She was 5 or 6 years younger than I was, and the last thing I needed was a romp in the hay before going to a dinner party hosted by my parents.

"I'd love to", escaped my lips in a strange voice that didn't seem to belong to me. She excused herself from work, grabbed my hand and led me up a long stairwell in the back. Just before the top of the stairs J turned around and kissed me on the lips. Her kiss was long and wet and she tasted like "Jolly Rancher" candy--apple I think. Has we explored each other with our tongues she firmly groped my left breast. Her boldness gave me the courage to reach between her legs and squeeze her mound. She was wet enough for her juices to seeped through her jeans and my fingers were coated with her. This girl was hot, and just when I was afraid we might end up doing it on the stairs, J jumped up and playfully pulled me along. Her room was dark and decorated like she had read the lesbian handbook. She hung posters of lesbian bands, paying appropriate homage to the Indigo Girls, Melissa Etheridge and K.D. Lang. She also hung posters of several lesbian movies such as "When Night is Falling", "Gia", "Bound" and "Wild Side". A triangle shaped suncatcher was proudly displayed in a place where no sun was to be caught. Of course she took advantage of her employee discount and had ample amounts of candles scattered though out the room. A bookshelf made out of bricks and old boards balanced in the corner and held a few schoolbooks, an old paperback dictionary, and a bunch of Naiad books.

Naiad publishes primarily Lesbian novels, and J seemed to be an avid reader. She had at least 20 Naiad books and her favorite authors seem to be Nikki Baker and Katherine V. Forrest. I noticed she had a copy of Nikki's "The Ultimate Exit Strategy", which I was dying to read. I've been hooked on Nikki's work for quite some time, and I desperately wanted to ask if I could borrow it, but this clearly wasn't the time for such questions. I couldn't help but ask myself the question, did she really like all this stuff, or had she simply made up her mind that she was a lesbian and was desperately trying to fit the role?

As far as music goes, I'm what you might call a little bit country. I like listening to Shania Twain who has a body that brings out the animal in me, Faith Hill who has a smile that makes me wonder what she did, Martina McBride who has eyes to die for and lately I've been getting into Mindy McCready who has curves that make me quiver. At times I wonder if my sex drive has anything to do with my choice in music?

J's taste in music was quite different from mine. She turned on her stereo to music I never heard before. She described it as "underground head banging". She showed me the CD entitled "Between Two Fires" by a band called "Cell Mates". The cover showed two beautiful redheads in a hot embrace--which was the only part I found interesting. She said it was great music to fuck to, and asked if I liked it. Once again, my tongue didn't check with my brain before it said, "Yes". That was all justification she needed to crank up the volume until the suncatcher was vibrating.

I had no sooner set down the CD when J flipped off her sandals, pulled her top over her head, and wiggled her jeans off slender hips that made me jealous. In less then 5 seconds, J was wearing nothing but her beaded necklace, and I found myself wanting her. Has I started to undress, J decided to take advantage the show. She laid back in her bed, laced her hands behind her head and enjoyed watching me. She was obviously very comfortable with her nudity, which is more then I can say for myself. With J staring at me I found it difficult to move; like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming car, or a performer with the jitters on opening night. After a bit I managed to removed my white tank top, my 32B bra, which I hoped J hadn't noticed was a "wonder-bra", and slipped off my navy blue tennis skirt.

It is funny the things one think of at the most inappropriate time. For when I got down to my red silk panties I wondered when was the last time I trimmed myself. Why was I even concerned about a first impression? I hadn't gone out this morning thinking I might be baring myself to a stranger, and thank God my legs were recently shaved. I would have hated to give anyone "rug burns" on the first date. Did this even qualify as a date?

I took note of J's bush, and it was obvious that she wasn't a shaver. Her pussy grew wild and unruly like she seemed to be. It was quite a turn-on. One of the fastest ways to turn me off is to see a shaved pussy. It's like getting a present that isn't wrapped. Where is the appeal? Don't get me wrong, I don't mind if they are trimmed close or shaved for a bikini, but please don't get rid of all the hair. Leave a little bit of it for personality. When did baldness ever become sexy?

If you are the type of person to believe in labels such as "femme" and "butch", then I would definitely classify myself has femme--or so I thought. For J was about to release the butch side of me that I never knew existed.

When I climb on top of J she locked her legs around my waist and kissed me full on the mouth. She grabbed handfuls of hair and dug her heels into my butt cheeks. I pressed my tits into hers until I felt her nipples poke into me. It was nice. After awhile we started playing the "going down game". This is the game people play when one partner is trying to get the other one to go down on them. J needed me to go down on her and I was more then willing. She applied gentle tugs on my hips with her legs and gave suggestive little pushes with her hands. After I felt she had suffered long enough, I started kissing my way down, stopping to give each breast their just reward. The size of J's chest was very similar to my own, but she had huge nipples. "Silver dollar" nipples has the old-timers might say and they looked magnificence. Has I continued my journey down her torso I was carefully not to hurt her newly pierced navel. It was then that I noticed that she had a "happy trail". A light trail of blonde hair went from her belly button to her pussy. Very nice indeed.

J was my first blonde and I was determined to enjoy myself. Her blonde pussy felt new and soft, almost has if it was made of fur. I blew a stream of cool air on her golden mound just to watch the reaction I caused on her face. She was in a world of ecstasy, and I was enjoying the power I had over her. I kissed her inner thighs, and then placed my mouth over her pussy, stretching my lips has far as they would go, with the hope of encompassing as much of her as possible. Has I sucked on her I replaced her wetness with my kisses. Ever so gently I probed between her lips with my tongue, tasting her pinkness. Has a reward for my effort, pussy juice that ran down her crack and onto the bed. I firmly inserted my chin into the entrance of her pussy, and began to lick her clit. Her clit was hard and sticking out, has if it was introducing herself to me. Has I flicked my tongue over the top of J's clit; I rotated my jaw to stimulate the entranceway of her pussy. My chin acted as a dam trying to hold back her juices, but every time I moved my jaw, her wetness ran down my neck. How did I ever end up in this room, right now, licking out a college student? Life can be funny at times.

J's breathing became labored and I could tell she was close to cumming. Her stomach was hard and she couldn't keep her ass on the bed. I was doing my best just to hang on while she bucked my face with her groin. The mischief side of me took over and I wanted to prolong J's climax as long as possible. I wanted to keep J on the edge for as long as I could. I wanted J to remember me. I wanted to be the one she compares all her future lovers to. When she got close to cumming I would ease up, or moved to a spot just off to the side of her clit. After 20 minutes of teasing, all it took was--one light touch of the tip of my tongue-- to the tip of her clit--to send her off. She was no longer in control of her legs as they moved in jerky spasms. She made loud primal noises through gritted teeth, while arching her back. Me--I greedily drank all she gave.

J grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me up to meet her lips. We deeply kissed has she tasted herself on me. Then with those wide hazel eyes she said, "Fuck me. Please fuck me with this." and she retrieved a strap-on dildo from her nightstand.

Not knowing what to do, and never being in this position before, I did what any good "femme" dyke would do, I stood up and allow J to strapped on my new cock. My cock was see-through pink and about 8 inches long. Protruding from the side were groups of bulging veins and the head must have been at least 2 inches in diameter. It was a cock that any man would have been proud to have, and I was starting to enjoy the way it hung from on me. I was enjoying the power it gave me.

J must of like the way I looked also, for she dove on my cock with the hunger of a staved animal. I couldn't actually feel her lips on me, but I had this beautiful blonde college student on her knees slobbering over my cock while digging her fingers in my ass. The sight alone almost did it for me. J raised my cock and started to lick my new balls. She then bent my cock all the way up till it was pressed firmly against my stomach and began to lick my pussy through the slit in the harness. I had nothing to hold on to but her head, and it was all I could do not to fall down.

I've always been the type that takes a few minutes to cum, but after the first time, it doesn't take much for me to cum again and again. I think J had it in her mind that she would attack me with the same enthusiasm that I teased her. She wanted to see just how many times she could make me cum and she proved it by attacking my pussy a vengeance. She had two fingers pumping away in my pussy and one reaming my ass hole. Like a machine gun she set herself on rapid fire, flicking her tongue mercilessly over my clit. I could barely stand the onslaught and within minutes J had made me cum 3 times. She only stopped because my legs refused to support me any longer. I collapsed to floor and into her waiting arms.

J gave me a few minutes to catch my breath before she hopped on the bed and bent over doggy style. Has she waved her ass in the air; J said, "Fuck me Janelle. Put that big cock in me and fuck me like the bitch I am."

I had to agree with her, my cock was big and I wanted to fuck her. Personally I wasn't sure if my pussy could handle a cock this big, but J certainly seemed confident. At that moment I would have loved nothing more then to slam my cock deep insider her, but the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. So I ran the head up and down her crease, coating it with her juices, stopping ever so often to ease a bit of the head in, and then retracting it. When I was finally able to fit the head all the way in, I stopped. I let it rest just inside her pussy lips, allowing her to enjoy the sensation. After a bit she started rocking herself on my cock until she was able to take the rest of it in. My plastic balls were now pressing against her blonde pussy hairs. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her ass and the small of her back. She was so hot, and I wouldn't have traded places with anyone in the world at that moment.

I started fucking her slowly, but she keep grabbing my thigh, begging me to go faster. Soon I was showering her with beads of sweat has I pounded her pussy hard enough to cause waves in her ass. She loved it. J desperately clenched the bed sheets with both hands. Her stomach rested on the bed while she continued to arch her butt in the air. Pussy juice coated my cock and ran down her inner thighs forming puddles in the sheets. I grabbed both sides of her hips and drove that ass around the bed like a steering wheel of a big rig. She yowled like a cat in heat. With every thrust I gave, the base of my cock applied pressure to my clit. I was so close to cumming, but I wanted to wait for J. As my own climax built inside of me, I took two fingers and started rubbing her clit. Then I took my other free hand and pressed a finger against her anus. She loved it so much I pushed my finger in up to the second knuckle, and that is all it took. J was screaming like a madwoman and I let myself go. We climaxed together.

Has I collapsed on the wet spots we made; J rested her head on my stomach. An hour later I still wore my fake cock that now rested on the side of J's face and I knew her pussy must still be open from the fucking I gave her. I didn't want to leave, but I decided it was time. I was already a half-hour late for my dinner engagement and Mom was sure to be pissed. I wasn't sure what I was going to use has an excuse for my tardiness, and at this moment, I didn't really care. I washed my face and fixed myself up has best I could. J offered me the use of the community shower, but I declined. The last thing I wanted was to do was explain my presents to strangers. Has I started to get dress J grabbed my red panties and said, "These stay". I could have protested, but why bother? The least I could do was allow her a souvenir for the great time we shared. We kissed and exchanged phone numbers with the promise to call. Has I drove my car to dinner, wondering if I stilled smelled of sex, I prayed that I wouldn't leave a wet mark on my skirt or the car seat.

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Ponderings

You said it as an afterthought really, I think. I don't think you had any idea the impact your order would have on me. Maybe you do know. . .and that's why you did it.

After we hung up the phone I lay on my bed thinking. I was thinking about why my stomach was in a little nervous knot, and why I felt so small and controlled and owned. I idly traced the spot on my leg where you have me draw your initial, even though it wasn't there.

I remember when you first asked for control of my orgasms. I remember how reluctant I was. I remember how it skirted the line for me in bringing up memories of lovers past who didn't know or care if I ever orgasmed at all. In time, I was able to give it to you. I remember that it was difficult. I remember the times when I would be frustrated and have to safeword. I remember the special rule you had to make because I would get so scared and upset that I was not being good enough for you-- the one where I would be punished if I came without your permission but that you would not be angry or dissapointed with me.

But tonight you said you didn't want to keep me from cumming when I wanted anymore. Now you have a new rule. Now I have to cum every day. It didn't seem like a very submissive thing to ask of me when you said it, did it?

I'm exhausted. I put dinner away so it doesn't spoil and then I take my pill. I start closing the lights and am momentairly distracted by some forms I find that I have to fill out for school. By the time I get the lights out and am ready for bed, the sexy feeling has waned and all I'm thinking about is sleep. In fact, I do drift to sleep a bit. I wake up wide -eyed in a slight panick. Maybe you meant starting tonight! Of course you did.

Now I am starting to feel the impact. I am starting to realize what this might mean. It means that I must masturbate now, even though my body is completely uninterested. I realize it means you have more control over my body now than you did before. Being forbidden from something means that you need only avoid behavior that you might want to engage in. Being ordered to do something means you must find time and energy and motivation to do it. This realization hits me hard and I squeeze my legs together while groping in the dark for my vibrator.

I turn onto my stomach and turn it on. . .feeling it buzz against me. The sensation is too much and I shut it right off and continue to think. I wonder what will happen on busy days when I have little time at home. Will I have to take part of my lunch break to go to the bathroom and make myself cum? This question embarasses me. It makes me feel slutty and naughty. It enforces the idea that, while I might seem totally in control and bossy in my vanilla work place, I might be secretly sneaking away to rub my pussy for my master.

I wonder also, will it make me hornier? Will I become oversexed? Will I become so conditioned that I am begging for stimulus in humiliation in front of my master? I turn the vibrator back on and feel my heart start to beat while my hips bump forward and back against it. My mind is now very aroused, and my body is slowly catching up. My mind is a haze of excitement and the sensation is too much. I take the vibrator away again. And I drift to sleep in exhaustion. I can't have been asleep for long. I wake up and my breath is still ragged. I am drifting in and out of conciousness like one does in class.

I would like to put the vibrator away and go to sleep. But I can't. And this thought excites me terribly. I realize that this order has done something new to me. Before, you controlled my orgasms until you gave me permission to cum. When permission was granted, I had an orgasm that was mine -- for me. With exquisite crushing weight of reality, I know now that every time I cum, that orgasm will belong to you. No matter how good it might feel to me, or how much I want to cum, it will not be mine. This thought frightens and pleases me so much that I find myself squirming up the bed. . .pressing hard against the vibrator and occasionally stopping to lick my fingers. . .wet with myself.

I start murmuring to myself. . ."Oh. . .oh. . .oh. . ." as my excitement grows and I start to remember how it felt the last time you took my orgasm from me. The last time I felt that my orgasms were not my own was the time you gave them to other people. It was the weekend you went away to Troy on business. Before you left you told me that if I was not allowed to climax unless someone was listening to me. And that person had to be someone who had never heard me cum before. But that wasn't all. You told me that I had to come twice before you came home. Once with a woman listening and once with a man listening.

I remember that you made me call someone who I had never before spoken to, and masturbate to orgasm for them. I remember the embarassment of knowing that will always be her first memory of me. I remember how small and needy I felt afterwards. I remember how nearly panicked I was. I remember wanting to hide in your pocket and cry. Not bad crying mind you, but overwhelmed crying. It was very powerful to know that you could make me, Laurel the good girl, call someone up and cum for them like a common slut. No, it was very powerful to me to know that you could *make me* into a slut.

For you -- anything. I was owned. Not just my body, but all the accompanying facets of me. You could give my sexuality away with a single order. You could take my privacy from me. You could take away my choice in who I was intimate with. You could give away my cries, you could give away my orgasms, you could give away my body.

With that memory I had to turn off the vibrator and be still. The memory still takes my stomach and knots it. I remember that it was edge play. It was not just doing something that I already wanted to do. It was changing my image of myself. And I did that, willingly. I took gratification from the idea that you could take my image of myself and mold it into something to your liking. I like that you can take me and make me into exactly what you want.

I find myself dreaming again. My body is still swaying slightly against the sheets, but I have drifted to sleep again, thinking of how I had called that man who I'd only known through email and masturbated for him because you wanted me to. God, how lost I felt later. It was a shame you were out of town. I needed you more than ever. My submission hit so far down that I couldn't do anything without asking permission. I was asking our friends, even the subs, if I could please eat dinner now, or get dressed now, or use the bathroom now. I was incapable of coming out of subspace for three days. It scared the hell out of me, frankly. It also set in motion the longing inside.

The longing inside you just touched with this rule. To give you a part of myself and make it yours. I turn the vibrator back on and start to gyrate. I cannot stop thinking that I feel your collar at my throat (even though it isn't there). I can feel your control over me as clearly as if you had your hand on my throat. I can hear my breath loud in the still of my room. And suddenly I am cumming. . . "Oh . . .god. . .ohhhhhh. . mphttttt." I bury my face in my pillow and bite it. And then I don't remember anymore. I woke this morning with the vibrator still underneath me.

I know this isn't anything really hot master, but I wanted you to know how deeply you affected me last night and to let you see into my heart and head.

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