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can’t cane
you in college.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I told you, it’s too
noisy.”
“Can we go to your place next
time then?”
“Yes,” I grin,
“I think we can go to my place next time.” I put a hand up to
stroke his cheek, rough from the stubble. Then I pull him to me for
a little kiss. “It’s time we got dressed anyway. I live perpetually
in fear of someone knocking on the door in the middle of one of our
little sessions. I know you’re not one of my own students, but it
still wouldn’t look great to be discovered in flagrante with you. I have to say,
my house is infinitely preferable.”
We dress. He kisses me deeply
again, and we hold each other. I like the feeling of being wrapped
in his arms. I’m glad he’s happy to give normal affection
sometimes, without the kinky element; I would find it too weird if
he was submissive all the time. Eventually we say goodbye, as we
both have work to do.
Then I sit down at my desk. I
have a stack of papers to read through. I can’t help wondering,
though, what I should think up for the next time he comes round to
my place. As enjoyable as the sex is with Michael, I get the
feeling that he’s disappointed when I don’t hurt him enough. I
think there’s going to come a point when he’s pushing for more and
more punishment, and I just won’t feel comfortable giving it to
him.
Still, I’m accustomed to short
relationships – if ‘relationships’ is even the right word. I like a
little variety, and Michael knows that I don’t see him exclusively.
Before his next punishment session I have a very hot date lined up
with a certain tall, handsome twenty-three year old called Edward.
I met him at a friend’s wedding recently. We chatted and
immediately found that we had a connection. By mutual consent, we
decided that it would be a good idea to go for a little wander, and
ended up having a very nice time indeed in his hotel room before
heading back to rejoin the other guests, trying our best to look
innocent.
But for now I have more essays
to mark on working class life in Britain in the late nineteenth
century. So with a sigh, I push my pleasant thoughts about Edward
to the back of my mind, and get down to some work.
Two
Friday, 24 February
“WELL, IT’S GREAT TO SEE YOU
AGAIN,” says Edward. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Ben
and Angela’s wedding and I’d forgotten how good looking he was. A
little above medium height, he has a long, angular face with high
cheekbones and a shock of very cute blonde hair. His eyes are a
piercing green. He has a nice body, just on the skinny side of
muscular, my type without a shadow of a doubt.
“You too,” I agree. I’ve come to
meet him in a wine bar and although I was on time, he was there
early, waiting for me. That was nice of him – I don’t like to be
hanging around on my own waiting for a date to turn up.
“What are you drinking?”
“Well, the last time I saw you
it was champagne,” I answer with a grin, “but this time I think I
fancy a gin and tonic for a change.”
“Oh, not your usual drink?”
“No, red wine is my usual drink.
How about you?”
“I’m a lager man. But the
question is, what do I fancy this evening?” He has a wicked gleam
in his eye.
“Yes,
what do you fancy
this evening?”
“Hmm. I could mention
something... but I’ll stick to drinks. I’ll join you in a gin and
tonic.”
“Ha, here we are in a wine bar
and neither of us is drinking wine.”
He orders our drinks and we take
them over to a small table.
“So, did you have a good time at
the wedding?” he asks, still with that twinkle in his eye.
“I seem to recall I enjoyed
myself quite a lot,” I grin. “Have you seen Ben and Angela’s
honeymoon pictures on Facebook?”
“Yeah, their safari looks
amazing. I think that’s such a great idea, not your usual lying
around on the beach. I’ll have to bear that in mind for the
future.”
“What, for your honeymoon?
You’re