Doubleife – Because one life is never enough

Carpe Diem

Archive for the month “October, 2014”

The Lesson Plan

Returning to college had been a dream of mine, and I was finally in a position to go, so I enrolled at the local Community College. Knowing that I struggled at mathematics I didn’t want to waste time so I hired a tutor to stay on top of things. Little did I know what I was getting myself into. He was older that I, handsome, intelligent and most importantly patient. A lesser man would have been furious or frustrated with my mathematical missteps and ‘logical’ conclusions. This man, I wasn’t sure if he was helping or not but I must say he was a delight to be in the presence of. His deep calm voice, his blue eyes behind those reading glasses and even his hands with those smooth long fingers were enough of a distraction but I was determined to learn.

In an effort to concentrate, I found myself making treats before each session. The measurements and chemistry that went into cooking made sense to me and soothed my head before all of the work I knew I was in store for. He would knock on my door and the house would smell of cookies, cakes, brownies and other desserts but each time I offered him a piece he’d refuse and we would get to work on my problems.

This went on for weeks and although I was making progress I kept struggling. I was becoming frustrated with myself and he saw my struggle but was persistent with his methods. I knew that I was testing his skills when he removed his glasses and pinched the space between his eyes. When he finally looked up at me he just sat there and stared. I quickly became uncomfortable under his gaze shifting in my seat as pink flush spread across my cheeks. Then he said, “I know you are struggling with this. I need to know how important this is to you.”

I sat there, thought about it as my brain screamed, ‘Of course this is important I am paying you aren’t I?’ however my rational mind tried to put things into perspective. “I understood my faults and struggles before I registered for this class but the concept of not being able to wrap my head around mathematics is representative of a mental block. Much like writer’s block I am hitting a wall I don’t know how to get around. I want to overcome my aversion to this and in turn open the door or at least learn how to open doors for myself that previously I did have the key to.”

He sat back took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Leaning forward he placed the materials he brought back into his satchel. “I’d like to try something completely different however it is outside of my tutorial services. Are you open to trying new things?” Confused and curious I was eager to conquer my resistance to numbers. My only hesitation was my financial  investment so when the thought of how much more this would cost me crossed my mind I was startled to hear him say “I won’t be accepting any further payments for my tutoring from now on.” I sat there dumbfounded furrowing my brow. Had I known what I was in store for I would have panicked and not gone through with it but he was clever in more ways than I anticipated. When he rose to leave he said “I’ll see you on Thursday, and so you know, I prefer Pie.”

My confusion stayed with me the rest of the day and into next. I attended my classes and went about my day reflecting on the previous evening. His eyes, his posture, his confidence all put me at ease despite my downfalls… I trusted him. I let my hope rise up with the thought of defeating my animosity toward equations. My mood lifted but the thought of not paying for his help was a bothersome irritant to my otherwise optimistic position.

Thursday was a busy day but I had time to create a cherry almond pie with a lattice crust. It was cooling on the rack when I heard his knock on the door.  Opening the door he looked different some how. He wasn’t wearing his reading glasses but that wasn’t it. He still had his satchel, so it wasn’t that, then I noticed that he wasn’t wearing his typical button down shirt and pleated slacks. Today he wore a black v-neck t-shirt and jeans. They fit him well and I was embarrassed to catch myself looking him over a bit more judiciously than I ever had before. Blushing, I stepped back to allow him entry.

He came in, set down his bag and asked “What kind of pie did you make?” I stuttered to get it out of my mouth before I made a complete fool of myself. He chuckled at my nerves and headed to the kitchen. Following in his wake, I entered the kitchen to find him peering down at my pastry. My mind raced ‘What if he doesn’t like cherries. What if he’s allergic to nuts. Why didn’t he specify which KIND of pie he liked?’ until he took his long finger, slipped it into the pie through one of the lattice holes and seductively pulled it out and licked his finger clean. I watched all of this with rapt attention. My eyes watching his mouth, his lips, his finger as my lids lower and my eyes dilate. He knew something about me that even I didn’t know. “Are you ready to get started?” Taking my eyes off of his mouth to meet his own heated gaze I nodded. “What do you know about Pie?”

My brain went into overdrive trying to figure out the answer he was looking for. “Well, they can be sweet or savory…” Clearly I had the wrong answer because he did that pinch between his eyes and shook his head in disappointment. Trying again with less confidence “Umm… the ingredients…”

I jumped when he slapped his hand on the counter and said “Why am I here?” and my brain clicked. He isn’t talking about pie he’s talking about PI! He saw the recognition in my eyes and smiled “Now… I’m going to ask you again. What do you know about pi?” I didn’t know much. I did know that it was 3.14 plus a whole bunch of numbers that went on without pattern for a very long chain that apparently people competed against one another memorizing hundreds of numbers however that was not the answer he was looking for. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, as I wracked my brain for the answer to his question. “Pi the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. Say it.” I dutifully repeated the words. “Now look at me. Again.” Stuttering a little this time I said it again as a heat rose in my cheeks.

“Very good. Let’s get started.” Extending his hand to me I took it and he led me to the table and chairs, “Please sit.” As I settled myself into the wooden  chair my peripheral vision picked up that he had removed something from his pocket. “I have a very serious question to ask you.” I looked up at him as he stood over me and spoke. “I have noticed things in you that I believed could help you overcome this. I want to help you but I need your full trust. Do I have your trust?” Before I could answer he knelt down on one knee and took my left hand. “Let me describe to you some things I want first though. I have noticed that you count on your fingers. This won’t do. I want to tie your arms to the chair you are sitting in.”

My heart excitedly raced and my eyes widened at the idea. He paused to read my reaction to his proposition before continuing. “I also need you to know that I am attracted to you. I want you but I won’t hesitate to discipline you for making errors. Do you agree to allow me to touch you?”

I shifted in my chair as my arousal grew with this new information before I spoke. “Yes. I do trust you. You’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me. I am attracted to you as well,” I said as my blush spread and deepened “and yes you may touch me.” His hand took mine and with the rope he had removed from his pocket a moment ago bound my arms to the chair rung. moving to the other side he did the same to my right arm. What I didn’t expect was that he also began binding my legs to the chair as well spreading them open before he stood again to inspect his work.

“Are you comfortable?” realizing that I was in fact comfortable I nodded. “Pi is a mathematical constant and an irrational number. It has an infinite number of digits in its decimal representation, and it does not settle into an infinitely repeating pattern of digits.” As he said all of this his hand slowly moved up my calf over my knee and onto my thigh. “Now repeat what I just said.” I panicked a bit trying to do as he asked but it was obvious I wasn’t paying close attention. As a result he slapped the inside of my thigh. I jumped at the sensation but also focused more carefully and the lesson went on .

By the time he had finished with the mathematical and historical significance of pi I was wet and panting. ‘Oh god, what could he have in store for me next?’ I thought. I sat there waiting for his next move when he wandered over to the counter, opened several drawers until he found himself a knife and fork then proceeded to cut himself a piece of my pie. Putting it onto a plate he sat down at the table next to me. Eating several fork fulls he would glance over at me watching him eat. “This is delicious. You are a very good cook.” My pride swelled at his words. Once he finished he rose, took his plate to the sink, washed his dish and silver and set it to dry. “Let’s go into the living room.” he said as he knelt and began to untie me. My confusion was obvious before he mentioned, “Don’t worry, I’ll be tying you up again out there too.” as he winked.

As I stood I stumbled and he grabbed me to his side to help me into the next room. He asked me to remove my dress and I willingly but somewhat shyly pulled it over my head leaving me in only a bra and panties.  Settling me onto the couch he proceeded to retie my arms but not my legs. Sitting next to me he said “Now we are going to do a bit of memorization. I am going lay you across my lap face down and draw a number on you then ask you to recite each in succession from the beginning. You already know 3.14 so we will proceed from there.”

The first number was simple in that it was a straight line indicating a one. “3.141” the first 10 or so numbers he drew we’re a little trouble however keeping them in order for each successive repetition became more and more difficult wandered about my person. I tried to slowly recount the numbers but that only proved more difficult by giving him more time to let his hands roam. By the 20th number I accidentally inverted a six and a four and felt the first stinging blow of his hand on my ass. As careful as I tried to be I made several more errors. Bye the 40th I was red and sore and terribly aroused.

He knew I was close, knew I was burning up, knew I was helpless to his Lesson Plan… “Again”

“3.14 1, 5, 9, 2, 6, 5, 3, 5, 8, 9, 7, 9, 3, 2, 3, 8, 4, 6, 2, 6, 4, 3, 3, 8, 3, 2, 7, 9, 5, 0, 2, 8, 8, 4, 1, 9, 7, 1, 6, 9, 3, 9, 9, 3, 7, 5, 1, 0, 5, 8, 2, 0, 9, 7, 4, 9, 4, 4, 5, 9, 2, 3, 0, 7, 8, 1, 6, 4, 0, 6, 2, 8, 6, 2, 0, 8, 9, 9, 8, 6, 2, 8, 0, 3, 4, 8, 2, 5, 3, 4, 2, 1, 1, 7, 0, 6, 7, 9, 8, 2, 1, 4”

 

You’ve Been Warned

A girl has to feel safe and protect herself… so I had been wearing my father’s wedding ring since he died last year to avoid unwanted attention. Preferring to be thought of as someone who had a family, waiting for me and knowing my approximate location; it made me feel safer than letting anyone know I was alone in the world. You never know what someone is going to be like in person so I was simply donning my costume for my next adventure.

Despite the fact that I had advertised myself as married, it hardly stopped the onslaught of responses to the personal ad I placed seeking “stimulating conversation.” I am still startled that I actually went through with the whole thing. What the hell was I thinking? Some were nice enough, but they were not what I was looking for, however many were downright awful. The responses had no real content, a pitiful list of attributes ranging from what they looked like, to general likes and hobbies but otherwise a lifeless description. In some cases the responses were so base line that you could just hear them saying “Hey baby…wanna fuck?” Nope… delete. It was easy enough to find interested men but finding an interesting man proved a challenge. It took time to identify someone I would be willing to meet.

So when I came across one in particular I took my time, tested the waters, got creative and was still interested. I knew I couldn’t jump at his first request to meet. Patience is truly a virtue after all. I certainly knew what I didn’t want, but I also knew what I did want. I didn’t need a commitment, according to my profile I already had one of those, so I was biding my time and letting our conversations develop. What I did not expect was to feel a connection. This was supposed to be harmless fun but what I was ending up with was an actual person. I wanted him to have a life and I wanted to have my own, but by spending time I was opening myself up. I couldn’t help but talk. I would spend hours going back and forth.

Every few days he would subtly ask about my availability and I would recount my plans for the following days ahead. I knew he was looking for an opportunity. As the weekend approached, I happened to mention that I would be in the city with my girlfriend for Friday evening. He cursed profusely at the bad timing, having plans already. Begging my forgiveness, I sat there reading line after line of what he wanted to do had he been able to attend. My cheeks grew hot, as I blushed, reading how he would have stolen me away to a secluded spot and ravished me, despite it being out first personal face to face. The one thing he made sure to remind me time and again was, that when we DID eventually meet, I was going to be in BIG TROUBLE. It always made me giggle while simultaneously sending that quick thrill of excitement and anticipation through me.

I didn’t want to convey my disappointment, so I kept the conversation light for the rest of the week. He knew something was off but I wasn’t about to confess my confused feelings. We both had a life, and that is what I wanted, but I had been hopeful that when I was finally ready to meet he would actually be available; and when he wasn’t I felt cheated of an opportunity. I knew it was irrational so I shoved those feelings down and as Friday afternoon approached I told him to enjoy his weekend and that we would chat again Monday. All he said was “We’ll see.” I quickly typed “What the hell does that mean?” but he had already logged off, and I was left hanging.

It was Friday evening and Lucy had already called to confirm our plans. I was looking forward to attending the First Friday gallery openings throughout Old City and especially anticipated visiting The Clay Studio which had something special I was looking forward to. My love of ceramics was well known and Lucy was excited to be my partner for the evening.

I dressed for a night of wine, cheese and walking wearing my tall low heeled riding boots, a tight flared black skirt and my white wrap shirt that decides for itself on my cleavage exposure. I trusted the top’s judgement, and similar to the blouse’s behavior the the black skirt also takes on a life of its own, by raising and lowering of it’s own accord, however it frequently decides poorly. I slipped on my long black sweater, just in case my skirt decided to become lewd during the evening, without my permission. I chose my bra carefully to accommodate the top’s antics but I couldn’t decide on the panties. I wanted my decision to be flawless but I just came up torn. I loved going commando but I equally enjoyed the smooth hug of my spanks. My eureka moment came when I spotted the pair of scissors on my dresser and immediately began cutting the crotch in half. This was going to be a fun evening damnit, even if no one else knew.

His word’s “We’ll see” had kept playing in my head over and over as I dressed. I tried to stop thinking about it but I couldn’t figure out what he meant and my mind kept rolling it around trying to decipher his meaning. It was like a scratch I couldn’t itch and it made me inexplicably anxious. Trying to salvage my composure I opened a bottle of Reisling and downed two glasses in quick succession awaiting Lucy’s arrival. She was punctual to a fault and arrived at six on the dot. I locked up and jumped in her as car blaring Add it Up by Violent Femmes and we zoomed down the road singing at the top of our lungs.

The drive took about an hour and in that time we talked and sang nonstop, alleviating my mind of the turmoil earlier. About 45 minutes into the drive Lucy turned to me in all seriousness and asked if I had planned to meet anyone tonight. My disappointment refreshed and I said “Sadly …No. He was busy. It’s just you and me lady.”

Lucy glanced over at me sheepishly and said “Well… I invited someone because I thought you were.” She rushed to tell me that she had also met him online via a personal ad and had been chatting intermittently for a couple months sending pics back and forth and in general having fun getting to know one another.  My envy grew but I was happy for her as well. I sat back and reflected on my evening ahead and suddenly felt very alone.

We parked on the street and marched down the block enthusiastically. The bounce in Lucy’s step was evident and it was fun to watch her excitement build as we approached the first gallery. I moved quickly alongside of her and suddenly felt a quick breeze tease up my thighs and backside. I had almost forgotten about my panty modification after sitting for so long and, at the thought, a private smile crept across my face.

The first gallery we popped into had a variety of tiny landscape paintings. We headed to the back of the first room and helped ourselves to a cup of red wine each. As we made our way around I enjoyed watching the people more than the art and caught myself scanning the attendees. The rooms were crowded and avoiding contact with others was near impossible. I found enjoyment in discovering where I would be brushed against next. It became a game, much like in Fight Club, trying to guess if will I get the crotch or the ass as I am passed.

I spied a long thin hallway and approached it with enthusiasm. Based on it’s width, it really should have been a single person throughway but the people milling about couldn’t resist seeing everything in the late evening galleries. I was sure I was approaching a gauntlet of human contact. I shored myself and peeked down the hall. When I saw it only had two people chatting and walking toward me my heart fell. I kindly waited for their egress and wandered in. I strolled up to the first print in the hall, leaning in to admire the detail, when my peripheral vision drew my eye to the end of the hall where a tall broad shouldered man stood leaning against the wall staring right at me.

I felt more than I saw his approach. The light actually appeared to dim slightly and the alluring scent coming off of him was amazing. I inhaled deep and my eyes closed momentarily. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until his hand touched my waist and I gasped and stumbled a little. His grip on me increased as I felt his crotch skim my ass. “Excuse me” he growled in my ear before I felt his hand leave my person and continue down the hall. I didn’t even realize what happened until I got to the other end of the hall found a chair and collapsed in it. All I could think was “I want to do that AGAIN!” I drank down the rest of the wine in my glass and saw Lucy peek into the back in a panic. “Where have you BEEN???” she nervously asked. “I just had to sit a sec, sorry.”

I jumped back up and we headed back down the tiny hall, empty again to my dismay. She quickly told me that her meet up was just a few doors down and he had texted her just a moment ago. As we ran past the next gallery space, I looked longingly at the over packed tiny room before we were on to the next big gallery. I watched as Lucy was frantically scanning the crowd, to get her first glimpse of her internet beau, and then it happened. She was beaming and they held each others gaze as he crossed the room. I smiled and took a step back for them to have space. I watched them hug tightly and act a little awkward. It was adorable. She introduced me to Quinn blushing and embarrassed that she had almost forgotten about me entirely. I was so happy for Lucy but knew she needed a moment to enjoy herself. I reassured her that I was good and excused myself to the find the restroom.

This gallery was a lot more open so that the guests had ample room to move about. I moved slowly toward the back as I sought out the lavatory to pull myself into a semblance of order. I opened the door and headed for the sink realizing only after my face was in the mirror that I was not alone in the tiny powder room.  Just staring at him in the mirror, positioned behind me, stood the man who had brushed past me earlier as I heard the lock slide home.

Our gazes held, mine a deer caught in headlights his predatory, as he took the two steps forward placing his body against mine pressing into the sink when he growled into my ear “You liked that earlier, didn’t you?” My eyes immediately lost contact and went to the sink faucet in shame. I nodded slowly “You kept me waiting. I was watching you move about the room and knew from your face that you were enjoying every second. Weren’t you?” Again I nodded. “Good girl.” I felt the length of his cock against my ass “Remember how much ‘trouble’ I said you’d be in when we met?” My eyes snapped up. His smirk was smug but playful. I tried to turn around but he had me pinned “Oh no,” he issued as he pressed me ever tighter into the sink wall feeling my hip bone painfully wedged against the porcelain.

I felt his hand pull my long hair aside, exposing my neck, before he sunk his teeth into my trapezius muscle. I felt my arousal heighten in direct proportion to the pressure he applied. It was then that I cried out. He was marking me, purposeful and deliberate. “You were warned” he growled before returning to his effort. His hand on my hip pulling my ass into his growing erection while his other grasped and groped and kneaded each breast. My eyes shut absorbing each tactile application.

I felt his hand at my throat pulling me back to an erotic kiss while the hem of my skirt raised ever higher. When his hand felt my wetness everything stopped and he slid his fingers inside me as he watched the reaction on my face to his bodily intrusion. He saw the lust in my eyes, felt my wet arousal, smelled my heady sex in the confines of the tight four walls and relished the power he held.

Throwing me forward over the sink he held me against the mirror, face smashed up against the glass. My hot breaths steaming the reflective service in short pants. I braced my arms to either side of the mirror as I felt his body position shift and move. The feel of his cock at my opening, teasing it open, getting it damp in my juices had me bucking for more. He knew what I wanted and he was deliberately not giving it to me. My mind was frantic “Please… PLEASE Sir.” I couldn’t form a sentence.

“What is it you want little one?” his voice sliding into me a bit deeper as his cock throbbed a mere 2 inches inside me. “F..fuck me Sir. f..f..fuck me hard…. please” With his hand on my shoulder caressing the mark he had left then grasping just above my clavicle he thrust into me hard and deep.

My moans grew loud and when the knock at the door was timed perfectly with the pounding his hips were thrusting at I giggled at the coincidence. When they called out “Sir!” I outright laughed thinking ‘Even THEY are calling him Sir!’ My laughter must have been infectious because even he began to chuckle despite the relentless pace he had set for us. When he placed his hand on my clit I practically screamed. My laughter kept going but now I was orgasming too and I was getting louder and louder laughing and screaming. He followed me with his own giant roar, filling me with his seed.

My sides hurt and we were both trying to catch our breath and our humor as he rearranged himself and settled my dress back into place. Taking my hand with his he looked down and asked “You ready?” I beamed up at him and nodded. The bright lights forcing me to squint was a momentarily relief before I saw the faces of the crowd that had gathered. My face flushed bright red as he turned to everyone and said “She’s really ticklish.”

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