Rose

Saturday morning in the cabin, I awaken to the sounds of birds chirping and my professor sleeping soundly at my side. Through the shades I can make out how the sun is barely lighting the sky. There is no clock in the bedroom.

I think to check my phone, but then I can’t remember where I left it. Phones? I hadn’t thought for a minute about my phone last night. I was too busy having a blindfold over my eyes while Professor Hanks fed me.

And fucked.

Since I don’t know what time it is, I lay back down in bed and shut my eyes hard, trying to sleep. I can feel the heat from Professor Hanks’ body radiating. My heart beats twice the usual rate just being next to him, even though he’s unconscious. I can’t help but let my mind wander.

What does he see in little old me? An awkward brunette. A ‘towny’ as the Blackwell students so affectionately refer to those of us who were born and raised here.

I wonder why he’s taken the time to ‘train’ me, or even just to be with me.

His chest moves up and down, a white sheet barely covering half of his body. Over his crotch, it looks as though a tent is being pitched straight up in the air.

I’m curious to see.

I slide the sheet slowly downward. He groans and grumbles and I pause, worried I’m going to wake him up.

I’m not going to do anything. He’s the one training me, anyway. If he wakes up I can just pretend the cover fell off.

A cool morning breeze blows into the room, and I’m happy we decided not to turn on the A/C last night. It is a particularly cool day for the summer in Blackwell. I wonder if the fact that the cabin is on the lake has anything to do with it.

My mouth goes dry as I pull the sheet all the way off, revealing what was pitching the tent.

Professor Hanks growls like a bear being disturbed in his cave, and I react by staying as still as a statue.

I swallow. I’m certainly learning something new right now. I didn’t know it was possible to have a full blown erection in your sleep.

I glance at my question journal on the nightstand. I didn’t get to write yesterday. This is so ridiculous. I can’t wake Professor Hanks up now. He’ll know I’m stalking him in his sleep. But then what does it matter? He brought me here.

Somehow I can’t bring myself to touch him. I grab my journal and lay on my stomach across the bed, propping myself up on my elbows, just staring at him as he sleeps in all his nakedness. I try to let my imagination wander as I write down whatever comes to mind.

Does Professor Hanks always sleep like this?

Do doms let their subs touch them in the night if they haven’t discussed it first? (I assume the reverse is fine)

What were the chances of a man so handsome being born?

How big is it, really?

I chuckle a little writing that.

Would my orgasms be as strong if I’d let someone else take my virginity.

I shudder a little bit, and for some reason thoughts of Brandon Morrissey run through my mind.

If Professor Hanks and I had a baby, what are the chances it would have his beautiful eyes?

My heartbeat speeds up again and I shut my book.

I’m not that girl who dreams about weddings and babies. It’s just not me.

Well, okay, maybe once I thought about who I’d invite to my wedding. But trust me. It was just the one time.

I’m silly. I need to forget about the future with Professor Hanks. He was so reluctant to even accept the job of taking my virginity and training me. Any silly dreams of a future with him are just that--silly dreams.

I crawl back toward him and listen to him breathe.

He’s not a snorer.

When I made a list of traits for my future husband last year (okay admit it, I did make that list) “not snoring” was number five. Call me crazy, but I love a good night’s sleep, even ahead of number six “enough money to send our kids to a college other than Blackwell.”

My palms sweat. I can’t take this anymore. Just one touch. He won’t wake up. He’ll never know.

I put my finger on his thigh. I add a finger.

His skin is warm. His leg is so muscular, he probably doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t react at all and I add my whole hand.

Nothing. He’s a deep sleeper.

His cock isn’t totally hard, but it’s definitely not soft.

I can’t help but wonder...if I touch it, will he wake up?

Or will he get harder in his sleep?

I have to do this. For the good of my research.

I hover over it with my free hand and my mouth. I can’t help it.

I lick it once. Twice. Three times.

Professor Hanks open his eyes ever so slightly and sees what I’m doing.

“Rose,” he groans. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I’ve got no answer for him, so I do the only thing I can think of. I take him in my mouth.

He grunts louder this time, and I can literally feel him hardening in my mouth, pressing harder against my tongue.

“Good morning to you too,” he groans and takes my hair in his hand to keep it from getting in the way as I bob up and down on him.

I switch positions and move in closer to him. Kneeling, I pump his slick cock with my hands and slurp his hardness with my tongue.

“Oh fuck, Rose. Fuck that’s good,” he groans. “Quick fucking learner aren’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I breathe, not stopping from the task at hand.

I bob and suck and let him fuck my mouth. He puts his hips into it. I like it.

“You like sucking my cock like that Rose? I’m impressed how much you are able to...oh fuck.” He yanks my head off his cock by the hair and I take a greedy breath, still gripping his base.

“Why’d you do that?” I moan, arching an eyebrow.

“Because, Rose,” he pauses. “You haven’t earned my cum. Not yet.”

“What do I have to do to?”

Professor Hanks scooches off the bed. He cocks his head and stands staring at me for a moment. The morning sunlight makes his body glow and accentuates his muscles.

“Nice morning,” he says, glancing out the window toward the wilderness. The lake is surrounded by woods and greenery, and it does feel nice.

I’m not sure if ‘nice’ is the right word for what’s about to happen to me, though.

“Come with me,” he says, or more like commands.

I stare at the gorgeous naked man in front of me, and there’s not much more I can say. “Okay.” I side out of bed and reach for my clothes.

“Oh, you won’t be needing those,” he chuckles.

“What will I need?”

“Little Rose, you won’t need a thing, other than your body. I, on the other hand, will be bringing a surprise for you.” He says as he grabs a black bag.

“Outside,” he croaks. “Let’s go.”

He leads me through the door and out to the orangish-red sunlight in the woods.

Naked.

Outdoors by Lake Marseilles.

With my professor, who follows with the bag in his hand. I also notice he’s carrying a phone.

“Why are we going outside?” I ask as he guides me forward, his hand on the back of my hip as I pad barefoot on a beaten dirt path.

“Because,” he says. “I want to see you in the morning light. Anyways, it doesn’t matter what I want to do with you. That’s none of your business. I can do with you what I want.”

I stumble a little,. He grabs hold of my body by the hips before I can slip into the dirt.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” I mutter, deciding he doesn’t have to know about the sensation of butterflies overcoming me.

Just walking into the wilderness, naked, with my professor at like six a.m. when my friends are probably still up partying from the night before. No big deal whatsoever.

“You’re scared, Little Rose. I can sense it. Do you want to turn back?”

“No!” I blurt out, not sure why the word came out so strongly. “No,” I repeat, softer this time.

He fists my hair in a knot and wraps it around his wrist, then pulls on it a little and forces me to look up to him.

We’re almost at the lake, it looks so beautiful and calm, but he stops us short, letting us stand on a bed of fallen tree leaves. It feels oddly liberating to be walking around totally in the nude, outside. The leaves feel good crackling under my toes.

“Gorgeous day out today,” he adds. “Rose, I would like you to stand against the tree. Arms forward. Ass out.”

A frog tries to jump out of my throat.

“Out here? In the open?”

He nods, and points to a particularly large oak tree. We’re about twenty feet from the shore. I wonder if someone could be out on the lake today, watching with binoculars. Spying on us.

In spite of my fears, whether they are rational or irrational, I do as he says. I put my hands against the tree and lean the top half of my body over and stick my ass out.

“Like this?” I coo, and turn my head over my shoulder to look at him.

“Good girl, Rose,” he answers. “Eyes straightforward. Look at the tree.”

I whip my head around, staring at the tree bark now, taking in its woody scent. I feel Professor Hanks run his thick fingers and thumbs over the flesh of my back, hips and ass.

“As long as we’re in this, Rose, you need to understand something. You’re mine to do what I please with. Do you get that?”

“Yes,” I mewl. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he says, and I think I see him snap a picture out of the corner of my eye with his phone.

He runs his crops over my ass, the leather cold on my flesh.

“So damn beautiful. And after I’m done with you, you’ll never be the same.”

“What are you going to do? I demand you tell me,” I say, surprising even myself at my biting tone.

“Rose, you’re not in control anymore, do you understand? I’m in control. No one is out here. I can do whatever I want with you. So you don’t make the demands. I do.”

My throat goes dry. “I’m just curious,” I say, suddenly aware of how alone we are. How out there we are.

“You want me to teach you. So that’s what I’m doing. Now, today you woke me up in the hottest way I’ve ever been woken up. Period. And it was so damn hot I let it slide. But you’ve got to know, a lot of Dom’s might not be into that. Because I’m in control. Not you. So, for that, I’ve got to punish you.”

“What’s my punishment?”

Whap.

He strikes my ass lightly with the crop a few times and I moan. There’s a warmth spreading from the spot that the crop struck, but the pain is not as bad as I thought it would be. I’m surprised by this fact.

“Do you like that Rose?”

“Yes,” I swallow.

He wraps his hand around my leg, then slides a finger onto my clit. He doesn't say anything for a moment. Just runs his finger back and forth.

“You're precious. Just precious. I'll always remember how you look right now at this very moment. Bent over this tree. So wet. So ready for me.”

He rubs his finger harder on my clit and I whimper.

“You want my cock, don't you?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“You must take your punishment first.”

“Give it to me.”

Whap.

He hits my ass again and I mewl. He rubs the leather on the insides of my thigh, and I stiffen. He touches the crop between my legs and I melt, just wondering if he'll strike me there. I hear a soft clatter, then a bit of rustling, I can’t help but be curious of what is happening behind me.

He growls loudly and I tense, squeezing my eyes closed and wondering where he'll hit me this time, but nothing comes.

I take a deep breath and slowly turn my head to the side to see what he’s doing.

He stands there naked, holding a hard cane, and a chill runs through me.

“P-Professor H--oh shit, I mean Sir. A-are you going to use that on me?”

The crop is one thing. This hard cane is quite another.

He smirks. “You chose this game, Rose. You're the one with the power. I'm just doing what you’ve asked of me.”

I quiver as he kisses my neck, then runs the cane down my back to my ass, thighs, and legs. It’s hard, unyielding, yet cool to the touch.

“But I didn't know that…”

“Here's the spot,” he cuts me off, running his palm on the flesh of my ass. I'm already tender from where he struck me before.

My heartbeat picks up, thundering like a Blackwell thunderstorm.

He reaches a hand between my legs again. I can’t help the purr that escapes my throat.

“Wow. For such a seemingly shy girl you like it rough, don't you?”

“Uh hunh,” I mewl.

“Then you'll love this.”

And then he growls like a barbarian, letting his finger drop from between my legs.

I clench as he yells.

“Hammock!”

I shriek, still clenching all the muscles in my body that I can. I spin around and face him.

He holds the cane at his side, head cocked, eyes wide, breathing hard.

He eclipses the space between us and grasps the back of my neck.

I don't look him in the eye. I just stare at his jacked man-body.

When I finally drag my eyes up to his face, his blue irises are staring intensely at me.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

My heart beats hard and Professor Hanks’ hand slides further down my back, to my butt, and lands around on my still soaking slit.

“Just fuck me Professor Hanks.”

He doesn't let another second pass before his lips are against mine. In one feral motion he slams me up against the tree, running his hands everywhere they'll reach.

He growls animalistically and spins me around, presses me against the tree, slides the tip of his thickness inside me, filling me.

“Is this what you want Rose?”

“Yes,” I whimper.

He fucks me slowly. Then harder. Then so hard I'm screaming into the nethers of the Blackwell wilderness, engulfed in pleasure as he kisses and fucks and runs his rough hands all over my body.

“Come for me Rose. Fucking do it,” he growls.

It's not a suggestion, but an order, and I obey. Waves of pleasure roll across my body again and again. I clench my walls hard around him, causing him to shoot his load into me, we come together.

When we're done, the sun is just sneaking over the horizon, reflecting onto the lake.

Professor Hanks wraps me up in his arms, and I fall into his chest.

“Can we just do more of that all weekend?” I ask, glancing up at him.

“Just?” He arches an eyebrow down at me.

“Yeah. Put the crops and the stuff away and just fuck.”

“Of course, Little Rose,” he says. “We can ‘just’ fuck.”

“Okay,” I say, and stop myself.

I want to call him Cole so badly.

But I don't.