A Lesson Learned
Elizabeth Coldwell
Copyright Xcite Books 2010
Published by Xcite Books at Smashwords
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 9781908262318
These stories have also been published in Explicit Encounters
ISBN 9781907761775
Contents:
A Lesson Learned by Kyoko Church
Good Girl by Clarice Clique
Applied LiteraryTheory by Orlando Zinn
Oh Brother by Lucy Felthouse
The Relapse by Tabitha Rayne
Winner of Jade Erotic Awards:
Erotic Fiction Publisher 2010 & 2011
"Xcite has delighted its readers with a wealth of superb titles and first class storytelling. Their titles have far outstripped the others for both quality of the product and sensual erotic content."
A Lesson Learned
By Kyoko Church
Things had been a little strained in Shirley’s house lately.
Strained, ever since she and Marcus made their instant messaging discovery – she a little later than him. Their own Internet version of The Piña Colada Song resulted in feelings of betrayal and guilt in both of them, rendering their house silent, but with the unsaid words creating a tension, as if those silent words were present and hanging in the air between them.
Shirley realised now that she had felt suffocated by their hemmed-in lifestyle. Suffocated and unfulfilled. They both had been playing roles: she the good little wife; he the strong and stoic husband. They unconsciously made up mannequins of those roles, like empty shells they then tried to jam themselves into. They just didn’t fit. And the effort and frustration of trying to make it fit had been driving them apart.
Now, though. Shirley thought she might gladly go back, gladly take unfulfilled over the churning in her stomach the tension in her marriage was creating. Finally she could stand it no longer. They couldn’t continue on this way. She and Marcus needed to talk. But when she finally reached out to him, she used the medium that had served them so well, and yet had done all the damage in the first place.
She messaged Master G.
SexyShirley36: Sweetheart, can’t we talk about this? I know I was wrong. But you were too. It seems we both want something more. There were parts of ourselves we were holding back. How long until we can be honest with each other?
Shirley waited. A while. It said he was online. But there was no response. And then.
Master G: When I’m horny and it’s not Friday I masturbate while I think about fucking you.
Holy crap.
Marcus?
Shirley figured this wouldn’t be a big admission for most men. But Marcus never talked about touching himself and she had certainly never seen him do it. So often she’d wanted to break free of their ho hum Friday night sex ritual, had wanted him more often, in different ways. Why hadn’t he told her?
But before she could ask there was this:
Master G: Your turn.
Shirley’s face turned bright red and her heart started racing in her chest. Her? What did she have to say? You know what you have to say.
Master G: You asked for this. You asked for honesty. Was it only supposed to come from me? R we going to do this?
Okay, Shirley thought. All right. Here goes. She took a breath. And then typed.
SexyShirley36: I want you to dominate me.
Master G: Good girl. Go on.
Shirley smiled slightly at Marcus resuming some of his old Master G style. Her domination admission made her heart feel like it was going to beat out of her chest but his “good girl” response injected a little bit of mischievous fun into the mix. Made her feel a little reckless. What’s there to lose? You want honesty. He wants honesty. So tell him.
Suddenly a torrent of words poured from her fingers on to the keyboard.
SexyShirley36: What I mean is, I want you to tell me what a horny slut I am for being constantly wet from wanting you. And for touching myself and making myself come. I want you to explain to me that my body is yours, every part. I exist solely to provide pleasure to you. I want you to punish me, teach me a lesson for being so horny and impatient. You would teach me this lesson by stripping me, tying me up and teasing me unmercifully until I was begging for release. Then you would explain to me that my pussy is yours and you are the only one who is allowed to make it come. And that if you allow me to come it will only be for your amusement, not because I deserve release. Only because you enjoy watching me come.
Realising she’d been typing furiously with him waiting, she pressed “enter” and then continued quickly, as if whatever demon, whatever courage, whatever whim had entered her mind and allowed her finally to release all of these pent up, secret desires might suddenly leave her, leave as quickly as it had come. And she didn’t want to live another second without Marcus knowing the truth.
SexyShirley36: When we’re alone, in bed, I want to serve you. I want to call you “sir”. I want to be your sex slave. I want to always ask for permission to come and to only sometimes be allowed.
It was only at this point that Shirley stopped and realised she hadn’t heard anything from Marcus in a while. She had felt free for a moment, as though she were typing to Master G. But what would Marcus think? Confused, she stopped, suddenly worried that Marcus was sitting at his computer appalled and disgusted. But wait, Marcus was Master G, she reminded herself.
Then came his response.
Master G: I won't let you come often. You’re a wet little slutty pussy and u need to learn patience, so I will ration your orgasms. Your wanting and impatience amuses me. When I do let you come it will be slow. Maybe I’ll use a feather or a paint brush, so the feelings are just enough to push you over the edge, to make your pussy contract. But not enough to satisfy your hungry pussy that I know only wants to clench around my hard cock.
My God.
Shirley pressed her legs together and felt herself throb in excitement. His words sent her head into a swimming mass of lust and confusion. Marcus? Master G? Somehow she couldn’t meld the two personalities who had seemed so separate in her head into the one man she now logically knew he was. Did it really matter?
SexyShirley36: Do you want to know more? There is more ...
Master G: Tell me all of it
Their confessions went on for an hour. After an hour Marcus couldn’t put off work any more and they signed off then. But the anticipation of her husband coming home that day left Shirley practically jumping out of her skin, beyond horny and desperately watching the clock, waiting for the sound of his key in the front door. When he finally did arrive he barely got the door closed behind him before Shirley was on him. He wordlessly pushed her to the ground, on her knees, unbuckled his trousers, took out his cock and pumped it in and out of her mouth, exploding in a matter of minutes. When he was finished Shirley only looked up at him, licked a drop of errant come from her lips and whispered, ‘Thank you, sir.’
During their confessions that first day, the confessions that elicited the front door “greeting”, Marcus admitted to his wife that, despite all his protestations to the contrary, he did in fact very much want her to go down on him and fantasised about it all the time.
Shirley, in turn, confessed that not only would she not mind going down on her husband, but that the thought of taking him in her mouth made her insides liquid with desire, her head woozy with lust.
‘Slut,’ Marcus addressed her in bed that night. ‘Tomorrow you will write an essay. The subject will be how much you love to suck my cock.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Shirley replied, a small smile playing on her lips.
From: SexyShirley36
To: Master G
Subject: Your cock
I love to suck your gorgeous cock. You know this and you put up with it. You’re trying to teach me that you love me to suck your cock but it’s only for your pleasure and it should not make me so wet. You know that I will probably never learn this lesson but you are so patient with continuing to try and teach me. Sometimes while you’re teasing me with your fingers, you stop suddenly and order me to go down and suck you. I go down and gaze at your amazing hardness. Just looking at it makes my mouth water as much as my pussy. I take it slowly into my mouth. I lick it all over. As I lick it I imagine how fucking good it would feel to have that wonderful hardness inside of me. I suck it all into my mouth and start to use my hand too. When I hear you groan, my pussy starts to clench rhythmically, as if it’s calling out to your cock, fill me.
Their confessions birthed the most astounding new partnership. Not only was their sex life now everything that both of them ever wanted – exciting, daring, intimate, compelling – but their power play solidified their bond. The more Shirley gave Marcus, the more he claimed. The more he claimed the more she wanted to give. She was intoxicated by his passion for controlling her.
One night Marcus had been teasing her for over an hour. Longer than usual. Hard and fast. Slow and soft. Stop, start. Over and over. Shirley’s pussy juices were everywhere. She was a quivering mass of jelly Marcus had strapped to the bed. All she could do was lie there helplessly and beg. ‘Please, sir, please let me come.’
Marcus just chuckled, told her no, not yet, and continued on. Finally, he stopped.
He pulled his hand away. ‘I will let you come today,’ he said.
I get to come!
‘If you are obedient for a change, if you can follow instructions for once and be a good little slut, then I will gently rub you until you come. I will sail you over the edge and softly land you on the other side.’
Marcus paused. ‘But ...’
Uh oh.
‘You have to follow instructions. I want to see you come. I want your eyes. But,’ he sighed, ‘I’m not in the mood to deal with any of your other bullshit today. You will lie there. You will keep your eyes open. You will look at me. You may breathe and you may blink but nothing more.’
Fuck.
‘One little move, one little gasp, you close your eyes one second longer than a blink and you will be punished. I will rub you hard and fast. I will throw you hurtling over the edge and then I won’t stop.’
Oh no. Not that. Anything but that.
‘You will come hard and fast. Just like your horny little pussy wants. But then, for disobeying me, the clit torture will begin.’ He smiled then, looking down at her terrified eyes, a slow smile, sinister. ‘Oh yes, I know how sensitive your tiny clitty gets after you’ve come. Your punishment for disobedience will be me continuing to rub that sensitive little button. Maybe I’ll lick it too. Mm, yes, I think I will. Then you can scream and beg all you want because it won’t fucking matter.’
Oh God, no.
‘Are you ready?’
No.
‘Answer me.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then let's begin.’
So their games continued. Shirley thought she was somehow setting the women’s movement back half a century with how she acquiesced to Marcus’s every command in bed, and she could care less. She couldn’t help it. And really, it was what she wanted too. Marcus knew exactly what it did to her to be made to feel small, insignificant, used. To be his plaything. After years of mechanical marital fucking on a Friday night – 15 minutes of tweak this here, rub this there, insert tab A into slot B, pump; obligatory orgasm for the little wife, perfunctory orgasm for the husband, sleep – to then experience wild teasing, gasping, screaming, begging, being her husband’s little come slut, down on her knees, satisfying his every carnal desire ... Well, it was her every horny, naughty, bad girl dream come true.
She was, however, unprepared for Marcus making a dream of his own come true.
It was Saturday night. Marcus had suggested spending the weekend at the Falls, getting a suite at the Hilton, dressing up, going out for dinner. A mini getaway. During dinner, beneath the tablecloth, he kept one hand settled between Shirley’s legs, not rubbing, barely pressing, just enough so that she was aware of the heat from his hand, aware of its presence and the control it signified over her pussy, over her entire body. Every so often he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. To an outside observer they might look like a couple newly in love, the man breathing sweet nothings into his lover’s ear. In actuality he was saying things like, ‘Hearing you beg makes me so hard,’ or, ‘I plan to lick you until you are a hair away from coming, so, so close. And then I will thrust my cock in that tight little cunt and fuck you while I order you not to come.’
She barely ate.
But that was OK. Because, back in the room, Shirley’s mouth was crammed full of Marcus’s stiff shaft. She slurped greedily at this gift her master was giving her as he lay on the king sized bed.
‘Let’s see if you are being a good little slut,’ Marcus said, reaching down and lazily stroking soft circles around her pussy. After his dinnertime teasing Shirley felt like there was a lake between her legs. She considered apologising. But then Marcus stuck two fingers in her hole and her pussy clamped down on the digits hungrily.
Marcus didn’t get mad. He chuckled. ‘Silly, horny, dirty little slut. You're not even trying to learn your lesson, are you? You are so wet. You're thinking about fucking me, aren't you? Answer me.’
‘Yes, sir.’
’Come up here.’