He looks up at me, licking his lower lip before biting into its plumpness.
“I... maybe,” he admits.
YES. Yes. Music to my ears. I can’t wait to see that tight butt in a jockstrap again. I can’t wait to see his tears. But first things first. Before I get ahead of myself.
“Okay, well, moving on to your answers then, Jamie, I think you are a kinky fucker. So, I need to disagree with your previous admission. You might never have had the chance to explore it before with anyone, but I’m already seeing from your green markers that you see yourself as a submissive. You also put green for all impact play, which leads me to believe you could be a pain slut. With a sprinkling of a praise kink, given how much effort you’ve gone to with your homework. Perfect start.”
Jamie’s answers on the written question parts scored high for all the things I suspected. He might not have known what his answers meant when he wrote them, but I was seasoned at this.
Taking a chance, I scrape my knee against his. He gasps at the tiny contact. I slide my hand under the table and up his thigh, squeezing it midway, and hear another delicious gasp that’s almost a moan.
“So responsive, Jamie. So good.”
His eyelids flutter shut for a second. I remove my hand, and his eyes fly to mine. I smirk and lick my tongue across the tops of my teeth. Huffing, he looks to the side, away from my gaze.
“Okay, show me your worksheets, Jamie. Then, we will schedule our next session at my home.”
“Your home?” Jamie almost shouts, and I chuckle.
“Yes, my home. I might look scary, but I live in a house, not a cave.”
“I didn’t say you lived in a cave,” he says, sulking.
This is going to be fun. Reaching across the table, I rub my thumb up and down his cheek. He leans into my touch, and I want to give it to him more than he knows.
“Is that glitter on your face, Jamie?”
Turns out I just couldn’t help myself.
Chapter 6
Jamie
Arnie gave me homework before our first session at his home this weekend. After only a handful of library sessions over the last couple of weeks, I was surprised to find a kink quiz in my emails that I had to fill out and keep a copy of. He also sent me a copy of his, which I wasn’t expecting. I thought he would be too mysterious and controlling to provide me with any kind of information that made him look more human. More vulnerable. Seems I was wrong about him.
No surprise that being a Dom was top of the list when I read it. There were others that I either had only a tiny awareness of or had never heard before. I decided rather sadistically to ask Arnie when I saw him, rather than use the internet. Maybe make him squirm for a change.
I was currently in my dorm with a rare night off. I got myself some snacks and downloaded a new spicy romance to read but got distracted and went back to reading our kink lists, looking at the compatibility.
I doubt Arnie would care about his needs, although part of me isn’t so sure. If I’m the one being tutored, then will he expect reciprocation if he’s only engaging in D/s play for work’s sake? Ugh, I’m confused, so I close the tab and go back to eating my chocolate pretzels.
My mind wanders to Simmons and I can’t help but laugh a little. He must know this is how Arnie conducts his so-calledtutoring. I thought about going to him about Arnie, that his way of tutoring will probably include me being put over his knee and punished for my grades suffering.
Ultimately, I decided against it. One: cause I will never have the courage to talk about those things with my professor, and two: a part of me is excited to see where this goes with Arnie. I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms until I see tiny black dots dancing.
Like I had confessed to him already, I have never done anything with a man before. I used to push those thoughts away and only date women. I’d never been in an actual relationship, only ever using hookup apps if the notion of sex popped into my head. My course load and work took up far too much time to explore my sexuality, even if university was the best place to do it.
I convinced myself to commit to just the first session with Arnie and see where it led. If I turned out to be 100% vanilla, couldn’t handle any of it — especially with a man, then I’d ask him to stop. Hopefully, we could go our separate ways with a clean break.
He’ll probably help some other poor submissive, while I’ll still be a failure, alongside being more sexually unsatisfied than I was before. Submissive? Was that the right term for the things I was feeling? I wasn’t sure.
Maybe I could talk to someone at work. I recently moved to a new location that had just opened after the owner, Beau, offered me more money at the club to move with them. I would not look a gift horse in the mouth, so I agreed.
I knew little about Beau personally, just that they have been supportive when I have been late or needed extra hours to feed myself.
Despite quitting the gym routine, I’m still in good shape from my dancing job. Who knew when my mom forced me into dance classes when I was a kid that I’d be shaking it on stage, covered in glitter, to pay my bills.
Pictures of my mom and the horrible man she married flood my thoughts. How she looked the other way when he turned his rage on me. It leaves a pit in my stomach that I don’t want to think about. Nope, not tonight. I make myself comfortable and open my Kindle, getting lost in some filthy romance that may have been about two men forming a new dynamic.
