Respect is Earned Respect is Given

"Mr. Valentine," she says. "I'm very pleased with you." She reaches down and unbuttons my pants and I feel my cock surge.

"Next question. Every few years, my husband and I go to Stratford, Canada for their Shakespeare festival. This past summer, we saw a comedy and one of the main characters was named Valentine. Do you know your Shakespeare as well as you know your saints? Which play is it?"

"I had a Shakespeare class in college," I tell her, "but the plays all kind of run together. I really don't know."

She answers me sternly and I'm reminded that she is a junior high teacher. "Mr. Valentine, that is not an acceptable answer. I may have to button you back up," she says, chiding me, and reaches down as if she is going to button my pants.

But she finds that the end of my dick has crept out past the waistband of my underwear. Her fingers graze the head once and then twice and she changes her tone. "Well, maybe you do deserve to have a hint. I'll let go when you give me the right answer. The play is set in Italy." And then she squeezes the exposed head of my cock hard!

"Merchant of Venice?" She squeezes harder and it's close to hurting. "Two Gentlemen of Verona?" She relaxes her hold on me.

"You are indeed a very good student." She unzips my fly and gives my cock a quick feel through my underwear. "A very good student," she repeats. "Impressive."

"Now let's test your knowledge of science fiction. Robert Heinlein is one of my favorite science fiction writers. Are you familiar with him?" I answer in the affirmative but I'm having trouble containing my astonishment. On one of my return visits to my 8th grade teacher when I was in high school, she recommended Heinlein to me. I read a bunch of his novels! Maybe my luck really is changing.

"One of his most acclaimed novels is Stranger in a Strange Land. It is about a young man who is born on Mars. The young man is the only survivor of the expedition and when he returns to Earth, he is changed by his experiences. Can you tell me the name of the character?"

I know the answer but I think instead about playing her like I don't. Then I think that probably is not the way to earn her respect. "Valentine Michael Smith," I answer. "He maybe even had some special sexual powers that he had gained while living on Mars."

"You truly appear to be worthy of your name, Mr. Valentine. You delight me." She grabs my pants and underwear at the same time and pulls. I help by lifting myself up off the seat of the chair and she ends up taking them down to around my knees.

I'm hard like a brick and I want her to touch me. I wonder if we are going to keep playing this game and so I come back with a question of my own. "Do you give extra credit?"

She seems to be. "I have been known to. I don't cheapen the results I expect so I never grade on a curve but when the situation merits extra credit and I'm asked, I sometimes will accept it. Let me think about this."

She thinks aloud about my request. "Extra credit, hmmm. What would be appropriate? You must . . . give me an oral report." And with that she steps forward and kisses me. Very deeply. Her mouth is open and welcoming. She reaches down with a hand and does more than touch me. She slowly jerks and twists my penis.

The kiss lasts for a good minute. Then she steps away. "Still, I'm very careful and I can never fully trust you. You must not try to free yourself. You must not disobey me. You must respect me and then I will respect you."

She comes back for another kiss and my mouth is forced open. Her tongue is like a serpent, and she thrusts it as if she is wanting to fuck my mouth. Tied up I am mostly a passive recipient, but her aggressiveness persists until I respond out of self-preservation. We spar with our tongues like a couple of boxers in the ring.

We separate for just a moment. "You have no idea how thorough of an oral report I expect." She grabs my head with both hands and pulls me forward until her sex is close enough that I sense the heat of her pussy. More than anything at this moment, more than escape, more than getting untied, more than getting my old girlfriend back, more than getting my job back, I want to bury my tongue in this woman that I can barely see and apparently will never know, to blaze a trail to her clitoris, to dance her clit on the tip of my tongue.

She has me close enough now that I can tell that her pubic hair is trimmed short and cleared from around her pussy lips. "Lick," she says and with one of her hands she holds herself open to me. I start slowly applying my tongue along side her clit in long up and down strokes. She moans softly and I feel her quiver. She thrusts herself at me now and though I have yet to touch her clit my tongue can tell that she is becoming swollen. I lower my head and my tongue is drawn to hood of her clitoris like a magnet to steel. With the tip of my tongue I flip the hood back and her clit reveals itself. I luxuriate in its tiny heaviness while I work it side to side. I am patient. Each time I give her clit a flick it swells more and more until by pursing my lips I am able to capture it. I suck on her while I point my tongue like the tip of an arrow and do pirouettes on her perfect pea of a clitoris. She lets out a low growl. I suck and I lick until I have to slurp. She humps my face. If she had a penis, I have no doubt that I would be forced to deepthroat her.

I know she is working toward an orgasm. I know I hope to bring her to an orgasm. I alternate between savage attacks on her clit and tender retreats and forays into her vagina. Her hips undulate involuntarily and are only interrupted when she pauses to shudder. The interruptions become more frequent. In this night of many surprises she gives me yet another by wedging a foot under my bare ass and lifting herself up on a single leg so that we are sharing the chair. I pause and glance at her in her amazement and her other foot is extended behind her, her leg bent at the knee and cantilevered upward for balance. "About time that damn pilates made itself useful," I hear her mutter. She is poised above me like a bird of prey.

Though light is minimal in the room her earrings sparkle. I see her breasts, round and heavy, rising and falling with each deep breath. Neither has her breasts nor their owner conceded much to time or to gravity. Her shoulders are strong and broad, her arms defined, but her face a mystery in the shadows. She holds onto my shoulders to keep herself steady and her grip is resolute.

She has used my tongue, my lips, my chin, my whole face like a phallus and I know what is coming next. Time slows to a crawl and my whole body throbs in anticipation. I watch her draw closer and closer until I bear her weight on my face like a saddle. She gives me time to adjust. I fight silently to maintain a clear air passage so I can breath. She starts from a dead stop. The wetness that I have coaxed out of her pussy till now was barely a trickle compared to the flood that starts to pour forth. Her hips begin to jerk. She cums and it is a hard, dirty filthy jolting kind of orgasm. I have to swallow once, then twice, her clit pressed hard against my mouth and a slave to my tongue, her pubic bone bruising my face, her body wracked by convulsions. I swallow yet again and then as she slowly becomes still, I lavish her pussy with kisses and carefully lick her clean. "You need to get down, you're shaking," I say to her.

I'm not sure who is the bigger mess, me or her. She has creamed a torrent of pussy juice on my face and my t-shirt is soaking wet.

She collapses heavily onto the bed. Her legs dangle off the mattress next to me and hear her breathing is ragged. "You get an A+" she manages to say before she drifts off to sleep. I, too, slip into a fitful doze in spite of being tied to the chair.

When I awake, I hear the shower running. A light is on in the bathroom and I realize she has closed the room curtains. As for me I'm still in my chair, still tied up but none the worse for wear. There's enough light in the room from the bathroom for me to see when I look over my shoulder that her suitcase is sitting open on the bed. After a few minutes the shower stops and soon she comes out but not before pulling the bathroom door nearly closed behind her. She smells fresh and clean. She has put on perfume.

"Good morning," she says, "it's almost time for me to go." Without saying more she kneels before me and takes my cock into her mouth. It only takes a little time before I get heavy and then she quickly makes me get hard. She knows how to suck cock and is enthusiastic about it. She bathes me, swirling with her tongue while swallowing the head and then, her throat held open and relaxed, she progressively works her way down until she can take my cock in and out of her mouth better than Ann ever did with her pussy. She licks my balls, too, with just the right touch and supplements her oral skills with her hands and fingers. "If you want to cum you can. You more than deserve it. But we've got about 15 minutes and I'd really like to feel your cock in my pussy. You've really got a wonderful cock. Besides, didn't you always have to pass a final exam at the end of the school year?" We are going to play this game to its conclusion and I readily agree.

I hear her tear a wrapper open and feel her roll a condom over my penis. It was a good fit. "Good choice," I tell her, "condoms usually don't fit me very well because I'm big."

She has lubricant, too, and she applies it with long strokes down to and then over my balls. "Don't feel too smug," she replied. "My husband asked me to bring some of his condoms."

She turns her back to me and then takes a step backwards to mount me. My pants are pushed down past my knees. She reaches behind and finds my cock. I feel its tip part her labia before she presses her hips back and down. My cock slips in about two inches; I've got at least seven more to go. She must already enjoy the sensation because I feel her pussy contract strongly "This is going to be good," she says. She presses herself down steadily while she moves her hips about in a search for the right fit. She finds what she's looking for and I slide in an inch and then two more and then another until I feel the end of my cock reach the back wall of her pussy. She feels me bump against her inside and she stops. "I've got more," I tell her.

She reaches down to feel how much length remains outside of her vagina and tells me, "No way I'm going to let that much cock go to waste" and she leans back and lets gravity do the rest. It takes a minute for her vagina to stretch. When I hear her let out a long hiss, she's completely resting on top of me, balls snugged up against vagina and the cheeks of her ass spreading across my abdomen.

She begins to fuck me. Her hips slide forward and then back slow, steady and precise as if controlled by a metronome. Even though she is well lubricated, her pussy grips me like two strong hands holding a shovel handle. She uses my cock like it belongs to her.

She increases the tempo gradually. My cock begins traveling back and forth freely in her pussy. Now she is breathing deeply, too, and becoming very verbal. She raises up and slides me out halfway only to then drive herself back down, then does it again. "Oh fuck, you're hard," she says. She may have told me not to be smug but I think to myself that while her husband may use the same size condoms, from the little spasms and exultations that I am drawing from her I doubt he has the I-will-fuck-you-until-all-you-feel-is-my-hard-as-a-diamond-dick. She slides me out well past halfway and manipulates both of us with her hips. I can tell her focus is maximum attention on her clitoris. If we were dancing and not fucking, she'd have the lead.

Her voice moves up an octave, and has taken on a breathy quality, "I love my husband's cock, I really do," she says dreamily, "but it has been a long time since it felt like your's. A really hard, really firm big cock is just wonderful."

My cock has become all heat and iron and her pussy a red-hot forge. We piston out steaming juices around my dick while she strokes her clit. Several times I feel her scoop some of it up with her fingers and use it as lubrication.

My cock is harder than a bar of steel. I willingly give up my disbelief and let myself be transported back in time while I fuck this incredible woman the way I imagined it would be in the 8th grade to fuck my junior high teacher. I close my eyes and I can smell her perfume and the chalk from the chalkboard and the freshly waxed floor of my classroom. I am fucking my teacher in her classroom the way I dreamed of back then, knowing nothing about sex but wanting nothing more than to know everything about it. I imagine I am sitting in her chair while she holds to the edge of her desk and slams herself down on me. I am being fucked with total abandonment at two points in time exactly the way every 8th grade boy thinks fucking should be even though we are still waiting for our first kiss.

I open my eyes and I am again back in the hotel room but I keep holding onto my fantasy. I smell her perfume and I lean forward to kiss the nape of her neck the way I dreamed I would kiss my teacher when I was cleaning the chalkboard. I kiss her again, this time just behind her ear. She rolls her head about while I let my kisses linger. My head is spinning wildly and my heart is pounding.

Her hips are rocking, the metronome has been pushed to full speed and she is yanking me to and fro, side to side. Her hand reaches for my dick and holds it at its base. She milks me for all I am worth while she rubs her clit. Whether we both reach orgasms at the same time I cannot say but there is little doubt that we overlap. I feel myself ejaculate again and again as I lift myself off the chair while straining my bonds. Her pussy squeezes me one last and very long time, the contraction lasting nearly a minute.

She slumps onto me exhausted. "You've got a ride waiting for you," I remind her. She then holds my penis so the condom stays put and pulls off me. She disappears into the bathroom and is in there for maybe five minutes. When she comes out, she leaves the light on but closes the door enough to keep the room fairly dark. I can tell she is wearing panties and I feel her apply a warm, wet washcloth to my balls and cock. She removes my condom carefully and tosses it in the trash, then cleans me up. Neither of us talks.

When she's finished with me she goes to her suitcase. I hear her rustling about and I know she is getting dressed. I hear a zipper being pulled but this time it is going up and not down. The suitcase locks snap shut. She comes up behind me and gives me a quick kiss on the top of my head but then slips something over my head so I can no longer see. I assume it must be a pillowcase. "I'm going to go now," she says.

I feel her place something in my hand. "Don't drop it or you'll have a lot more trouble getting free." It feels like a metal nail file. "You can cut your way out with it. It's just a pair of nylons." Then she says to me, "I've that decided you earned a Valentine's Day present. I was going to give these to my husband but I think I want you to have them instead. You know, a memory of a Valentine's Day that turned out maybe better than you expected. I'll have to find something else for him. Maybe I'll just tie him up and suck his cock. He'll think it's because I've missed him, which is the truth, but I'll have my little secret to remember, too. He'll appreciate the enthusiasm." Then she paused and left me with a final bit of encouragement. "You know, someday I think you'll make someone very happy." She picks up her suitcase and steps toward the door.

"Wait!," I ask her, "I have a question. What perfume are you wearing?"

"Chanel No. 5" The door pulls shut and she is gone.

"I'll never forget it," I say aloud. I wish she could have heard me. I lean back and shut my eyes while I commit it all to memory. Lick by lick and stroke by stroke, I remember and relish until the silence of the room jolts me out of my reverie. With the nail file I quickly tear through the pantyhose. I shake the feeling back into my hands and rub my wrists and then snatch the pillowcase off my head. My legs are unsteady when I stand up and my pants fall to my ankles. I pull them up and take a few staggering steps forward. Never in my wildest dreams. Never in anyone's wildest dreams.

The light switch I find turns on a desk lamp. It takes me a moment before my eyes adjust and I can look around. The clock on the desk says 5:25 a.m. I push aside the chair I was tied to and smile after concluding that its cushion will never be the same. I look about and see that it was not a pillowcase that she had slipped over my head.

It's a pair of silk boxer shorts adorned with hearts. A present for Valentine's. I stuff them into my pocket and head for the parking lot.