Old-Fashioned Values (15 page)

“Oh, sir. Oh, sir,” she whispered, as if for herself alone to hear. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

“Were you a naughty girl?” Mark said softly and a little sternly. “Are you being a naughty girl now?”

“Oh, God… oh, God…”

“Answer me, Sally. Are you a naughty girl?”

“Yes!”

Mark pulled his hand away, dripping with her wonderful wetness, and brought it down in a spank, very hard on her left cheek. Quickly, he repeated the spank there again and again. He moved to the right cheek and did the same, as Sally cried out, “Oh, God… please…”

Mark returned his hand to her pussy. Again he soothed her.

“Sir, may I come?” Sally cried.

“No, young lady, you may not come.”

“Please!” Sally wailed.

“No!” Mark spanked her in the center of her bottom, again and again. “I’m going to spank you until I feel you’ve paid for your naughtiness, Sally Lanchester. You’re not going to come until you have my cock inside you for the first time.”

“Oh, Mark, now… please, now.”

Mark felt like he would come in his grey flannel trousers if he let this go on any longer. The feeling of having Sally utterly at his command this way, her bottom and pussy presented to him so submissively, made every motion of his legs a kind of pleasurable torment.

“Get on the bed, on your back, Sally,” he said. As she scrambled to obey, he pulled off his own clothes. One part of his script he had hesitated over now seemed to him impossible to keep himself from playing out. Hardly believing the audacity of his dominance, he walked around the bed to where Sally’s head lay on the pillow as she looked at him with wide eyes. Her gaze moved from his face, to his cock, and then back to his face.

Mark was holding his cock arrogantly, stroking it, showing it off to her. “Look how hard you got me, Sally,” he said. “Open your mouth.”

“Oh, Mark… no, please—not—not yet.”

“Call me ‘sir,’ Sally.” He reached down to stroke her cheek, and her eyes traveled upward and then downward again.

“Sir, please…” She was not saying ‘yellow.’

“Who gets to say, Sal?”

Her whisper was barely audible. “You.”

“Louder, please.”

“You do, sir.”

“Open your mouth right now, Sally, or I’m going to spank you. I’ve wanted to make you do this for a long time now.”

She breathed harder and harder, as she obeyed at last, and even moved her face closer to the edge of the bed. Putting his knees right up against the bed and pulling her gently by the shoulders into a position where he could get into her mouth easily, Mark leaned forward, and watched in rapture as his penis took the virginity of Sally’s lips. Something about knowing that he had used his cock to take away her power of speech seemed to arouse him so terribly it made him feel a little guilty.

“There we go,” he said. “Good girl. That feels so nice.” He stroked her hair. “You look very pretty like that, sweetheart, with your mouth full of cock.”

Sally gave a whimper of submission as she tried to please him, suckling desperately on his hardness. She looked up at him for a moment, but then seemed to want to turn her eyes back downward, submitting to the dominance of his gaze.

“Just hold still, for a moment,” Mark murmured, and he put his hand on the back of her head, hardly believing that he dared, and began to thrust in and out, not very deeply. But Sally gagged, and he pulled out of her mouth. “You’ll get better at that, sweetheart,” he said.

“I want to, sir,” she replied. “Please teach me. I want to please you so much.”

So Mark put his cock back inside her mouth, and this time when Sally gagged, he only withdrew a little bit, and then began to thrust again, because it just felt too good not to. Soon he was again so close to coming that he needed to withdraw so that they could get on with things.

He stroked her cheek. “That felt so good, Sal.”

“I’m glad.”

“It’s time for me to return the favor.”

“What? No, sir. You can’t. I’m so… it would be so embarrassing.”

“Well, then, you’re going to have to be embarrassed, I suppose. I want to taste your pussy, and I think you should taste it, too.”

“But…” Sally wailed.

“Spread your legs and raise your knees. And remember, you are not to come.”

He watched her hands ball into tiny fists. Partly because his dominant blood cried out for obedience, and partly because he knew she longed to be
made
to do these things—even to have her boyfriend go down on her, Mark reached out and raised her knees to her chest. Startled, Sally cried out and began to struggle, but then, as if recalling her submission and how she enjoyed it, she relaxed.

Then Mark started to spank her in that deliciously humiliating position.

“Sir! What are you doing! I thought…”

“You didn’t obey me quickly enough, naughty girl.”

“Ah! Oh, please…”

Mark spanked her ten times, and then, just as suddenly as he had grabbed her, he climbed onto the bed and knelt at the very foot, still holding Sally’s knees up in his left hand. He looked down, and this naughty view was even better than when she had been bent over the bed, for the raising of her knees made him feel like he had himself uncovered her sweet pussy and her tiny bottom-hole. He put his face down and kissed his beautiful girl so that she screamed with the pleasure of it, and his cock just got harder, thinking about how he had forced that pleasure upon her.

He had never kissed a girl there before, and although the taste was new he knew instantly that Sally’s cunt had gone instantly to the top of the table of most wonderful tastes in the world, because of the way she cried out as he lapped at the tenderness of her inner lips, and the way the mineral tang of her arousal came onto his tongue. He loved the way her soft curls down there tickled his nose and mouth. Her hand was in his hair now, and he loved that, too; the pleasure he gave her dominated her so much that she forgot herself, and tried to get more of it.

He kissed her tiny clit, over and over. Sally moaned, and then Mark knew exactly what came next: he rose up onto his knees, and saw his lovely new toy play with herself helplessly. The hand that had been briefly in his hair now rubbed frantically at her cunt, and her other hand played with her nipples, going from one to the other as if Sally couldn’t decide which one felt better. Her eyes were closed, and as he laid himself gently atop her, taking his weight on his arms, they fluttered open and went very wide.

She tried feebly to turn away from the kiss that carried her own pussy’s wetness to her mouth, but then, with a tiny sob, she succumbed, and let him kiss her and kiss her, while his cock pressed against the fur of her pussy and he nearly went mad with the need to put it where it belonged, inside Sally Lanchester’s cunt.

He looked down into her wondering eyes and murmured, “Ready?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered back. “Please, sir, fuck me.”

Mark smiled, marveling at her, and at his luck to have met her, and not to have chickened out of saying he would spank her on their second date. For the first time, he rubbed the head of his cock gently up and down the furrow of Sally’s pussy, while she whimpered to feel him there. He thought for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to find just where he should push, but then Sally shuddered under him, and his cock went in a little bit, and the feeling was so heavenly that he couldn’t be anywhere else but where nature had intended a cock to go.

Then he came up against a place where Sally’s pussy was so tight that the sensation from his cock told him that nature wanted him to keep pushing no matter what it might do to the beautiful girl who lay under him. Sally sobbed, her lips a tight line, and she nodded and said, again, “Please, Mark… sir. I want you all the way inside me, no matter how much it hurts.”

Mark kissed her, and as he kissed her he drove as hard as he could, as hard as his cock wanted him to drive, and he was through, and Sally was crying out beneath him. To be inside her cunt felt like his life had found a strange new purpose: to fuck Sally all day, every day, for the rest of his life. He looked down from her brave face and her watering eyes to where their bodies joined.

“Does it feel good, sir?” Sally whispered.

“Oh, God, yes, Sal. Are you okay?”

“I think so?” She smiled at him wanly. “It feels so… different. Like… my pussy, well, you know. It’s not mine anymore.”

“No, it’s mine,” Mark said, so excited by her words that he couldn’t help beginning to move inside her. She winced, but he still couldn’t help himself, and now he saw that Sally’s face began to reflect a submissive pleasure that stoked the fire in his veins, and began really to thrust, gasping at how wonderful her sweet pussy made his hard cock feel.

In the end, it was a very good thing, perhaps, that Mark was fucking a girl for the very first time, because he lasted five or six thrusts, and then he shouted out and came inside Sally as she clung to his strong arms.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come, sir,” she said meekly. “I wanted to, but…”

“It’s okay, Sal. I’m sure it will take us a while. I just said the thing about coming with my cock inside you to get you hot.”

“So you’ll let me come soon, sir?” The eagerness in her voice enchanted him. “Even without your cock inside?”

Mark laughed. “Yes, sweetheart. I take back my command, I guess.”

“When?”

“Now,” Mark said, with a meaningful thrust of his hips. But that made Sally wince.

“Can we have dinner first, sir? And may I take a shower?”

Mark smiled, not sure why he loved this conversation so very much, but utterly blissful that he could make Sally happy so easily. It was as if by acceding to her requests… Suddenly he gave a bark of laughter, which made her wince again, but even though he wanted to, he couldn’t stop, and he finally had to roll off her, as carefully as he could, helpless with laughter.

“What?” Sally demanded.

“Judicial review.”

“What?”

He propped himself on his left elbow, and gathered her into him with his right arm, turning her on her side so that they came face to face and he could kiss her.

“Marbury versus Madison.”

Sally’s brow furrowed. “Is that the one where the chief justice didn’t do anything, but it meant that the Supreme Court was… powerful, or something?”

“Yup,” said Mark. “When you ask me if I’ll let you come, and I say yes, it sets a precedent.”

Now Sally giggled. “So if I asked if I could not get another spanking?”

Mark growled, “Not going to happen.”

She smiled. “Good.”

Chapter Eighteen

By the time John dropped Rachel off at her dorm, kissing her on the brow and holding her close for a long moment as she moved deliciously against him in her yearning for more, he knew that for better or worse they would be a couple—a scandalous one, in several different ways, but a couple nonetheless. Their erotic and intellectual selves were simply too closely aligned to make it anything but self-defeating torture to try to keep it from happening. John had long ago realized that one of his greatest strengths lay in the way he could tell when a given task or burden was simply impossible, even though the rest of society might pretend that it wasn’t. Over his adult life, he had used that capacity for discerning what could be done and what couldn’t to save himself from the kind of wasted effort that would have distracted him from what really mattered.

What really mattered, with Rachel Lowenstein, was making sure that when they did become entangled erotically, it would be for her good. As the limo drove him home, John became more and more certain with each mile that marriage, once Rachel had graduated and they, as a couple, had demonstrated their viability, would be far from an unworthy goal. John had no objection to marriage, after all, as long as both parties entered into it with a realistic view of the institution.

So working toward Rachel having that realistic view was John’s next step. Her submissive nature, and her recognition of his seriousness of purpose, could well put stars in her eyes that would last a long time. He had no right to take those stars away: he knew how very magical it all felt to Rachel, because it had been that way for John when he was eighteen, and he knew how great a crime it could be to disillusion someone who didn’t need to be disillusioned yet—or ever. Nor did he have any desire to take the stars away. To be with a girl who saw things that way, even knowing that it probably wouldn’t last, really did make John feel young, and above all in love.

He called her. She didn’t sound sleepy at all when she picked up the phone, of course. That made him smile.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said.

“Hi, sir.” Could there be anything in the world more wonderful than having a pretty, submissive co-ed call you ‘sir’? Well, actually, John supposed wryly, he could think of a few things.

“I just wanted to say good night, and that I had a wonderful time.”

“Me, too.”

“Would you like to come to my house for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay; I’ll pick you up at Hascom Gate at five. Get your homework done before that, alright? We’re going to discuss your erotic needs, and I’ll be keeping you pretty busy.”

Rachel giggled, but her breathing sped up noticeably, too. “Okay, sir.”

The odd part wasn’t telling the girl he planned to deflower the next night—really, since it was 1:30 now, that same night—to do her homework. The odd part was that that didn’t seem odd at all. May-December: he couldn’t deny it had always had an appeal for him, since it went along so well with his dominant tendencies, and with his aesthetically traditional sensibilities. A forty-year-old with an eighteen-year-old was so very far from unusual, historically, that he actually had to force himself to recall, from time to time, that there were going to be difficulties ahead, if he and Rachel wanted to approach this thing in the honest way they must.

* * *

John made coq au vin, which, from the way Rachel had enjoyed the cassoulet the day before, seemed a safe bet. The dish went over even better than he thought it would, probably because from the moment Rachel got in John’s car she seemed completely unable to be less than delighted by anything. John couldn’t help smiling almost continuously, knowing that he was a big part of the reason Rachel was so happy.