ALEX TURNER IMAGINES

Seeing Red Pt. 2

A/N: Part 3 is out- check out my new book SEEING RED. All updates will be posted there.

Warnings: smut! unprotected sex, praising, hard!dom alex (he's a bit softer in some parts of this chapter), oral (both receiving), rimming & anal play (f receiving), power imbalance, swearing, I think that's all!

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There it sits on your bed, the purple butt plug, staring at you. It's never going to fit, you think, as you turn towards your mirror with a sigh. Your critical eyes scan the outfit you chose for tonight. It's a white strappy bodysuit- the straps barely covering any skin. It's comfortable though, and you feel sexy wearing it. In fact, you feel very sexy.

The rules for visits at his house are simple. One: You dress appropriately. Two: You don't ask questions. Three: The only rooms you frequent are his bedroom and the adjacent bathroom (and the hallway when you enter the house, of course). Four: You leave when he's done with you. You do not stay over.

Professor Turner is very peculiar about his privacy, hence he never lets on more than necessary. To your dismay, because you're curious. Oh, you'd snoop around in his house if you had the chance, your fingers itching to find out more about him- his interest, friends, family. You've caught glimpses of the other rooms, the living-room and kitchen, his office. He's living in a two-storey town house, it's aesthetically decorated and always meticulously clean. Inside, it smells of coffee and musk, pine trees- a comforting scent that calms you down no matter how nervous you are.

You knock on his door at 8:30 PM sharp. You mustn't be late. Lateness is amongst many things he absolutely loathes.

Professor Turner opens the door swiftly after not more than five seconds. You mustn't be seen.

He greets you formally and ushers you inside, his eyes scanning the peripherals of his house for intruding eyes, and he promptly shuts the door behind you.

Gentleman-like, he takes your coat and hangs it up while you remove your shoes and neatly place them next to the heavy wooden door. The familiar scent of his home, of him, floods your nostrils, and you inhale it without hesitation or a second thought. It does wonders to soothe your bubbling nerves.

Once in his bedroom, you wordlessly strip off your summery dress. Professor Turner is still dressed in the same outfit as this morning, and he still looks absolutely impeccable. There is not a stain, not a wrinkle on his shirt or his slacks that fit him like a glove. You admire his sense of neatness, of accuracy, when it comes to his clothing.

Feeling a little self-conscious standing in front of him only wearing an attire that barely covers your modesty, your eyes find his.

He holds out his hand with the palm up, and with a little hesitation you place the butt plug into his hand. It looks so much smaller in his hand than it did in yours; nevertheless it frightens you a little.

The Professor nods, and his dark eyes scan you from top to bottom, a satisfied hum leaving his throat.

"You look very nice, little one."

His comment sends a shiver down your spine, and you respond with a feeble smile, "thank you."

Professor Turner sits down on the edge of the bed. He's taken off his blazer and is now only wearing the same white dress shirt he wore this morning when he fucked you bent over his desk.

Now, he pats his thighs, "c'mere."

Once again, you know what to do. You position yourself over his lap so you're laying across his thighs. His large, warm hand runs over your back and comes to a halt at your bum, where he delivers a gentle slap.