Victoria Caldwell wasn't expecting for her world to turn upside down after signing up for Mr. Brando's class. He seemed like the average professor, the only thing standing out being his good looks. After a heated affair arises between student & teac...
Marlon had on a dark blue robe as he sat at his desk writing on papers. His eyes read every paragraph intently as he calmly graded. Across the room, you could see the cracked open bedroom door. Walter laid asleep, his member limp and resting on his thigh. His blonde hair messily formed a halo around his head.
I was totally naked as I walked toward Marlon. Standing behind his chair, I placed my hands on his shoulders then slowly leaned down to rest my head on top of his. He continued looking at the papers.
"How long does it take you to do this?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Ages." He answered in a mumbling voice. It was hard to even imagine how many papers he had to grade. I glimpsed over at a specific paper in the corner. The typewritten lines were slightly crooked on the facade of it. Then I noticed the signature at the top of the paper.
"I got a failure!?" I walked from behind his chair and stood next to him, picking up my paper. "How?"
"You were supposed to write about what torments you." Marlon looked up at me. "And instead, all you spoke about are trivial things."
"What torments me is that we just had a ton of sex and yet I'm still failing." I scoffed, tossing the paper to the side. Marlon's eyes looked up at me, his pen lifted from the paper in front of him.
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"Tori, I'm sure you have bigger problems than your financial troubles." Marlon mumbled. Then, he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. "I know you better than that. And just because I'm fucking you, doesn't mean that you suddenly become the star student of the class."
"You don't know me at all. You wouldn't be able to understand me." I cried out. "Especially what it's like being negro in this country!"
Marlon's jaw clenched. I continued on my rant. "You know what torments me? Not being welcome in some places and in my classes I'm assumed to be an imbecile."
"You're far from an imbecile." Marlon said in a low growl.
"You can never know how I feel because you will never be negro!" I shouted louder. He pushed back his chair then turned to me as he sat there. Then, he took my hand and softly pulled me toward him, I stood in the space between his open legs.
"I know I'll never truly understand what it's like being colored in this country." Marlon said softly. "And I know it must be frustrating for you because you feel that you can't be your true, authentic self because of it."
Marlon lifted my hand to his lips and shut his eyes, then kissed each of my fingers as he brushed his soft lips along them.
He held my hand to his chin as he once again looked up at me. "Tori, I graded you poorly because I know your story is far deeper than this paper. And the way you just reacted to me, showing me that raw emotion, it's evident that it's true."
"I didn't want to write about it. Writing about it— accepting that... it's detrimental to me." I sighed. Marlon's lips turned into a pout as his hand touched the small of my back. He brought me to sit on his lap. He moved my short hair and left a soft and long kiss behind my ear.
"I apologize if what I'm asking of you hurts." He said calmly as I sat in his lap, his hand placed on my hip. "I only want to see you be your best self and use this hurt for the betterment of your career."
"What hurt do you use?" I asked him reluctantly. He looked away and pressed on my back, causing me to stand up off of his lap.
"I need to finish these papers." He answered as turned back toward the desk and picked up his pencil
"Marlon..." I brushed his hair off of his forehead. He looked up to me, in his eyes I could see he was holding something back. After clearing his throat, he finally spoke.
"How about you wash up?" He asked, squeezing his hand between my thighs and gripping it. "I understand where you're coming from, but that'll be all."
And like that, he turned toward his work and didn't look back. I stood there for a moment, then walked off into the bedroom. Walter had since turned onto his stomach, the lamp on the side table glowing onto his naked body.
Then, I walked into Marlon's closet. Going through his clothes, I got a sense of who he was. Most of his wardrobe was casual t-shirts & denim. His shoes were lined on the floor. There were leather riding boots, moccasins, various loafers in many colors and converse.
I pressed my hands along his clothes, but then I felt the fabric hitting something else behind. Moving the clothes to the side, I was shocked when I found whips, belts, and various restraints.
These objects weren't at all foreign to me, I'd used them from time to time with my clients. Many men loved to be put in their place by a strong domineering woman. However, unlike Sammy Davis Jr., Dean Martin wanted to be the one in control. I expressed my opposition to it, so he settled for testicle worship instead.
My nipples slowly began getting swollen against the cold air as I traced my fingers along his riding crop.
"What exactly are you doing in here?" He asked, his eyes squinted. He adjusted the belt on his blue robe as he stood behind me. I turned around and bumped into the clothing behind me.
With a grin, he stood there with his body pressed against mine. Without breaking eye contact, he picked up the riding crop from behind my head then held it in his hands.
"You're not using that on me." I shook my head.
"And why not?" He asked, slowly placing the whip against the skin of my chest. Then, he slowly began sliding it down to my nipple, then underneath my breast. I hissed as he brought it up between the them and to my chin, lifting my face to look at him. "You'd like so pretty while I spank you."
"I don't allow a man to spank me. I'm a strong broad and I'm not afraid to say it." I insisted. Marlon moved the whip from my chin and slowly brought it down my neck. I shut my eyes as the whip suddenly found its way between my legs.
"What if I could make it feel good?" He proposed. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, he pressed the whip still against my heat.
"You can try." I rolled my eyes. Suddenly, the whip smacked against my heat. I was surprised at his sudden movement, but the sting lingering on me did feel exciting.
Without a word, I was sold. By the look in his eye, I knew he felt it too. I slowly turned around, as I did I could feel his eyes burning into my back. My hands extended on either side to hold onto the door frame of the closet. Then, I slowly poked my ass out to Marlon.
"I'm gonna have fun with you, Princess." He mumbled, grabbing my ass.
