Page 9 of B is for Baby Me (Classes in Kink #1)

Chapter eight

Practice Makes Perfect

JR

If this D/s stuff is supposed to calm my anxiety, then why is my heart pumping harder than a dance club remix? My first ‘lesson’ with Professor Fletcher is tonight, and I’m climbing the walls in anticipation. I’ve already taken three showers today. Josh is starting to monitor our water bill.

“Do you have a date tonight?” my roommate asks from behind me.

I yelp, jumping a foot. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here.” I need to play it cool. Josh, an international student from Jaipur, India, is the King of Twenty Questions.

“You were in the shower when I got home,” he says, giving me the side-eye. “So, you have a date? That’s wonderful! I hope to date someday—after I earn my doctorate, of course. Are you excited?”

“Nope, no date. It’s nothing like that.” I can avoid better than a quarterback dodging a pass rusher. All that practice avoiding Rachel pays off.

Josh’s dark eyes light up, shining almost as much as his glossy black hair. “Are you having a hook-up? Are they coming here? Can I meet them?”

I shake my head quickly back and forth. No way would I bring anyone—especially Professor Fletcher—to our tiny on-campus apartment. “No, I’m just... going somewhere. With someone. To do, um... stuff.” I rub the back of my neck. Smooth.

The astrophysics student gasps. “So, it is a hook-up! I hope to experience one of those someday. I hear sex is quite liberating. Did you know that it can reduce anxiety? There have been studies.” He pulls out his phone, as if he’s going to show me his research.

“Yeah, I’ve heard—but I’m not hooking up. I’ve gotta go to, um... practice. Football practice. So, you know, I’ve gotta, um... go.” God, if I were any smoother, I’d be a speed bump.

“Football practice in the evening?” Josh’s bright smile falls. “Why would you lie to me, JR? We’re fellow scientists—purveyors of facts, seekers of knowledge! I thought we valued truth above all else.”

Way to go, asshole. “I’m sorry, buddy. You’re right, I am meeting up with someone—but it’s not a date or a hook-up.”

“A prostitute!” the teenager gasps, his eyes lighting back up.

“Oh my god, no .“ Jeez, where does he come up with this stuff?

“I’d like to hire a prostitute someday,” he says, nodding his head eagerly.

“Dude, I’ll hire a prostitute for you if you’ll stop asking questions.“ If I don’t get out of this apartment soon, there’s no telling what he’ll ask me next. “I’m meeting someone—but I gotta keep it lowkey, y’know what I mean?”

Josh’s face shines with excitement, adding a golden glow to his deep bronze skin. “It’s a secret? Oh, I love keeping secrets! You can count on me, JR. I’ll keep your hook-up lowkey.”

“Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it.” My phone pings, and I grab it off the kitchen counter. “My Uber’s here, so I really do have to go. See you later?”

“Good luck! Tell me all about the sex when you return! I hope you have multiple orgasms!” The nineteen-year-old follows me out the door, practically climbing into the Uber with me. Maybe I should help the guy get laid. He needs it even worse than I do.

Lucky for me, my driver doesn’t ask as many questions as my roommate. When he drops me off at The Bent Gent , I tip big and avoid his eyes. Fortunately, Fletcher is waiting near the entrance to the sex club.

“Thank you for meeting me here, Mr. Bennett.” The professor holds the door open for me. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

“I’m a little nervous, to be honest,” I say as I duck inside the dark, noisy club.

“There’s no need. We’ll start with a discussion on safewords.” Nodding to the bouncer, Fletcher leads me through the crowded main room and into an unoccupied space with an empty couch. As we make ourselves comfortable on the sofa, we turn to face each other. “Do you recall our earlier conversation about limits?”

“The whips-and-chains limits? Yeah, I remember.” As if I could forget that talk.

His mouth curls up at the corners. “Excellent. As I stated previously, safewords are verbal cues used to express limits. They’re helpful during moments of passion when Yes and No responses could be misinterpreted. Each partner has a set of safewords, as we each have our own boundaries and limits. I, along with many others in the lifestyle, find the stoplight system to be effective.”

“You mean, like Red-Yellow-Green?” I ask.

The professor tips his chin. “Precisely. If you reach a hard limit, simply say the word Red and all activity will stop—the scene is over. Say Yellow when you want to cease a specific act, but the scene itself may continue. Green means all systems are go, as it were. Any questions, Mr. Bennett?”

“Nope, I got it,” I tell him. “Those safewords work for me, sir.”

“Wise choice. It’s a simple system to follow, even when blood flow to the brain is compromised.” He gives me a teasing wink.

“I’m not articulate at the best of times.” I rub the back of my neck.

Fletcher’s sharp features soften a bit. “Still waters run deep, as they say. Scientists often have abstract minds. All the better to analyze data with.”

I snort a laugh. “Professor, what big microscopes you have!”

A wicked smile spreads across his face. “All the better to see your naked flesh with, my little Mr. Riding Hood. Speaking of which, how do you feel about public nudity?”

“Public what? “ Holy shit! What does my teacher have planned for this evening? “As far as safewords go, that would be Red . Fire Engine Red.”

He smirks. “Little Red Riding Hood Red?”

“I’m pretty sure that goes in the whips-and-chains category.” My face heats to a million degrees. God, enough with the blushing already.

“Are you certain, Mr. Bennett? We’ve already explored partial nudity in a semi-public area. In this very room, as a matter of fact.” Fletcher peers around the small space before cocking an eyebrow at me.

“I kinda forgot about that,” I mumble.

He nods. “I thought as much. Are you sure this isn’t an interest you’d like to explore? Some subs enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Might you be slightly yellow—perhaps the shade of butter?”

I shake my head. “Ruby Red, Professor. Like Dorothy’s slippers.”

The dom’s lips thin. “Fine. I’ll respect your boundaries, though it will alter this evening’s activities. There aren’t any locking doors at The Bent Gent , so I can’t guarantee your privacy. This may not be the best place to strip you naked.”

“Yeah, I’d prefer to do that behind locked doors.” Jeez, as if the locker room at Spartacus wasn’t bad enough. There’s no way I’d keep from sprouting wood with this man stripping me—no matter how many people were watching.

“Very well, we’ll postpone that scene for another time.” Fletcher stares into the distance as he ponders. “Perhaps you could tell me a few of your kinks. Is there one in particular that you were hoping to explore?”

My face flushes so hot, it must be as red as my public-nudity limit. “There is something, but I don’t know if you’d be into it, sir.”

“Try me, Mr. Bennett. I’m into many kinks.” He gives me a slow, seductive smile.

My dick throbs at the look on his face. “Well, it’s just that... I’ve never kissed a guy before. And I’d really like to kiss… um, a guy.”

Fletcher narrows his eyes. “You’ve kissed women before, right? I assure you, the mechanics are the same.”

“Yeah, but I was never into it, y’know? And I think it would feel different kissing a man.” God, way to revert to puberty. I might as well ask my teacher to play Spin the Bottle.

He darts a glance at my mouth. “I’ll concede that point. However, we’re approaching a limit for me. I don’t normally kiss my sexual partners—it promotes feelings of attachment, and I’m not looking for a permanent companion. We’re employing a temporary stress-management strategy, Mr. Bennett. We aren’t dating.”

Oh my god, cringe . “I didn’t mean it like that, Professor! I just thought I could get some practice… Maybe a few pointers, in case I suck.” That doesn’t sound too desperate, right?

“I suppose your situation is unique,” Fletcher says as he studies me. “Perhaps it would ease your stress to begin with the basics and gain experience. A little practice won’t hurt—but I’m in charge, is that clear? You are not to paw at me. I’ll be the one giving the lesson, and you will follow my instructions. Agreed?”

“Yes, sir.” Holy shit. Hot-as-fuck-Fletcher is gonna kiss me? Praise be to the porn gods!

His gaze travels over my torso. “The sub usually sits on the dom’s lap, but in this case we may need to improvise.”

“Sorry, sir.” Damn my offensive lineman body. Why couldn’t I look like a tennis player?

“Don’t apologize, Mr. Bennett. I find your size quite appealing.” His eyes darken as they roam across me.

“You do?” Thank god for my offensive lineman body.

Fletcher stands up from the couch, hovering over me. “Apparently, I enjoy having a big strong man to boss around—so, sit back and do as I say.”

God, I love it when he’s menacing. “You’re gonna wreck me again, aren’t you, sir?”

“That is my intention, Bennett.” The professor puts a hand on my shoulder and climbs onto my lap, straddling me. He reminds me of a jaguar about to attack—all single-minded focus and merciless intent. There’s a predatory gleam in his eye that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s gonna eat me alive. What a way to go.

I sink into the couch cushions as the professor nestles our groins together, making himself comfortable on my lap. “What color are you, Mr. Bennett?”

“Green, sir. I’m as green as... as…” Thank god for safewords. I have no idea how green I am.

“Very good. Take off your shirt—I expect at least partial nudity this evening.” Fletcher hums in approval as I pull the t-shirt over my head, exposing my upper body. His hands glide across my pounding heart as he caresses my bare chest and shoulders. “Sit still and pay attention. You may hold onto my hips, but don’t grope me. I’ll be the one doing the manhandling, are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.” My long fingers splay out onto his ass as I carefully grasp his hips.

He leans forward, placing his mouth on my jugular—I can feel my pulse beat against his lips. “You smell good, Bennett.” He nuzzles my throat, kissing and biting his way up my neck before settling on a sensitive spot behind my ear.

Mother of god . “I-I thought you were gonna kiss me, Professor.”

“I am kissing you,” he murmurs. His lips drift slowly across my jawline, placing open-mouthed kisses along it before biting the soft underside of my jaw. Fletcher’s stubble scratches against my clean-shaven skin as he licks and bites a lazy path to my other ear. “You taste good, too.”

When his hard cock rubs against my own, I grip his hips, letting out an involuntary moan.

“Not too tight,” he growls in my ear. “Remember who’s on top. Let me grind against you. Doesn’t that feel nice?” He rolls his hips against my lap.

I tremble beneath him, panting.

“Mmm. I like it, too.” Fletcher cups my jaw with both hands. “I’m going to kiss your mouth now. I’ll tell you when you can join in, understood?”

Huh? What did he just say? “Green... I’m green.”

“You’re magnificent.” He brushes a kiss across my mouth, then swipes his tongue along my bottom lip, taking it between his teeth and nibbling. His hips rock against my lap as he licks across the seam of my mouth, seeking entrance.

I part my lips. The first touch of Fletcher’s tongue against my own sends a jolt through my entire body. I gasp as my hips surge upward. “Sorry, Professor.”

“Forgiven, Bennett.” His voice is a deep, throaty purr. “You may kiss me back when you’re ready, but remember who’s in charge.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper.

The professor digs his hands into my hair, angling his head to one side before pressing his lips against mine. His tongue slides into my mouth—shocking me once again like a bolt of electricity. He delves deeper, taking ownership of my mouth.

I try to follow his lead, but I get lost in the heady sensation. The feel of his teeth as he bites my lower lip. The heat of his breath mixing with my own. His fingers gripping and tugging my hair as our mouths move in unison.

“Suck on my tongue, Bennett,” Fletcher murmurs against my lips.

His wish is my command. As I follow my teacher’s instructions, I’m vaguely aware that my jeans are being unbuttoned, my cock pulled out. His bare shaft rubs against my own, sending a tremor throughout my body.

“Give me your hand.” He grips my thick fingers and licks my palm. “Lick mine, too. Get it nice and wet.”

What? I blink as he holds up his hand, then obey him without further thought. Once his palm is slick with my spit, Fletcher guides our hands toward our joined laps.

“Grip our cocks, Bennett. That’s it. Help me stroke.” Fletcher urges our fists up and down, squeezing our hard lengths together.

I groan as the tempo grows faster and faster. No words can describe how it feels.

“Let me kiss you again, sweet boy.” The professor yanks the hair at the back of my head. When I gasp, he pushes his tongue past my lips, dominating my mouth. Our fists move together at a breakneck pace as our kisses turn rougher and more frantic. Pre-cum drips onto our steel-hard shafts, letting our hands glide even faster.

My muscles are wound so tight, it feels like they’ll snap at any moment. Still, I’m floating on a cloud—a dream where nothing exists but the man on top of me. Our lips pressed together, our tongues entangled. Fletcher’s hand wrapped around my own, gripping our hard flesh, guiding us toward a precipice. I’m on the razor’s edge. I’ll fall if I let go for even a moment. I’ll fall—or I will fly.

“Fletcher!” I shout, soaring off the edge of the cliff.

“That’s right. Scream my name,” Fletcher growls. His tight grip continues to race up and down, prolonging my climax and chasing his own. “Just a little more… a little more... yes! “ Cum bursts from his cock onto my torso.

As I shudder through a violent aftershock, another surge of cum shoots from me. We pant against each other for a while as the world slowly comes back into focus. When the haze finally clears, I notice a gentle nuzzling against my throat and fingers circling through the sticky mess on my abs.

“Wow, Professor.” I struggle for breath as my eyes blink open. “You sure know how to kiss.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Bennett—for a beginner.” Fletcher leans forward, joining our lips once more.