Page 23 of Master Class

“I’ve spent too much time kneeling in that position to suck cock,” she said. “Now it makes my knees ache.”

She dressed slowly, in no particular hurry and oblivious to Edge’s eyes on her breasts. Clarissa too, shrugged on her bra. Then Margie gave Clarissa a chaste peck on the cheek. Both the girls had smudged lipstick and numbed lips. “You did fine,” Margie offered her praise. “We made a good team.”

When they left the small dark cubicle, there were men milling about in the corridor. They pressed themselves against the wall as Edge brushed past them and Clarissa followed in his wake. One of the dark strangers ran his hand over Margie’s ass as she passed.

“You workin’ tonight?” the guy asked. It was a deep gravelly question from out of the darkness. Margie acted as though she recognized the voice. She stopped in the passageway.

“Ask Jim,” Margie answered. “It’s up to him. You know the rules.”

When they were back in the sex shop, Clarissa drew Margie aside. Edge and the big man behind the counter were locked in their own conversation. Clarissa kept her voice to a scandalous kind of whisper.

“Are you that guy’s submissive?” she glanced back over her shoulder to look at the man behind the counter even though the gesture was unnecessary.

“Kind of,” Margie whispered back, not really knowing why she was whispering at all.

“What does that mean?”

“Jim is my husband,” Margie answered. “And my Master.”

“And he lets you suck other men’s cocks?”

“Sure,” Margie shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal. “And more than that… of the guys have the money.”

“So he pimps your body out to customers?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t mind?”

Margie’s face became almost amused. She started to smile and a twinkle came into her eyes. “I love it,” she confessed. “I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t.”

Clarissa was withdrawn and reflective during the drive back to Edge’s house. She sat in the corner of her seat, and her eyes were glazed and unseeing. Her thoughts were back in the small sex shop booth, going over every moment, frowning with each recollection. She had learned a great deal about pleasuring a man’s cock, and indeed, about herself. It had been another profound evening, and she silently marveled at how little she truly understood about herself until she had given herself to Edge’s tuition. Undoubtedly, she was far more skilled at giving pleasure; Edge’s sessions had given her ample opportunities to develop her skills, and she was grateful for every lesson learned and every fresh experience.

But it was the deeper, personal insights that startled her – discovering that to be submissive didn’t necessarily mean remaining passive had pulled back the curtains on a whole new aspect to the lifestyle she had never thought to explore. Margie had taught her that in the way she had worshipped the strangers’ cocks.

Not sucked.

Worshipped.

The girl had taken the expression ‘giving a blowjob’ to a whole new level. Margie gave everything of herself. To Clarissa, Margie’s passion had been inspirational.

The realization that her own desire could be wrapped up in the way she gave pleasure astonished Clarissa. She had never made the connection before tonight. But it was true. She had the undisputable evidence, simmering in the crotch of her soaked panties. She was as wet as she had ever been in her life, and her pussy was cramping with the urgent need to be filled.

Slowly, Clarissa turned her head and stared out through the windshield. She recognized a couple of houses and realized that they were just a few streets away from Edge’s house. Clarissa licked her lips, suddenly frowning with apprehension. Congressman Jansing’s ominous threats came tormenting into her mind, pushing aside the pleasant recollections she’d had of the sex shop.

She stole a glance at Edge. His face was in profile. He was concentrating on the road his gaze dark and fixed. Clarissa wondered what dark and mysterious thoughts swirled behind his eyes. Was he remembering the scene in the dark little booth?

Was he thinking about fucking her?

She hoped so… but could she afford to wait and take the risk? Clarissa had no doubt that Edge was aroused. She had seen the bulge of his raging cock in the cubicle, and again when they had first climbed into the car to return home. She glanced down at his crotch now, but it was too dark to tell if he was still hard in the ghostly glow of the car’s dashboard lights.

Clarissa bit down on her lip and felt her apprehension rise.

“I really enjoyed tonight, Master,” she said softly into the darkness.

She saw the corner of Edge’s mouth twitch into a chill smile.

“I liked it even more because you were watching me.”

“Oh?” Edge flicked her a curious glance, then diverted his eyes back to the road.

“Uhuh,” Clarissa said, keeping her voice very quiet. “I liked knowing that you were watching me, and I liked thinking about your cock while I sucked all those other men. I imagined you hard and wanting me, Master. Then I thought about you taking me while I was on my knees with a stranger’s shaft deep down my throat. Just thinking those thoughts made me want to cum.”

“You wanted me to fuck you in that cubicle?”

“Yes,” she said the word as an exclamation of pain and desperation. “Oh, God yes, Master.” Impulsively she reached across the dark void and slid her hand into Edge’s lap. Her fingers brushed across his crotch, and she felt the vaulted manhood of him, tightly straining within the trap of his jeans. Clarissa was trembling with thrill and alarm. She stopped breathing. The next few minutes were perilously important.

For long moments she said and did nothing. Edge did not speak. Clarissa’s heart was racing. Finally her hand moved an inch. Then back an inch. Slowly she moved her hand further each time until she was rubbing Edge’s cock through his jeans with the palm of her hand. She heard Edge’s breathing sharpen, but still he said nothing.

Clarissa licked her lips and became emboldened. She didn’t have much time before they would arrive out the front of Edge’s house. She found the steel tab of his zipper. Edge’s hand closed over hers like a trap.

She looked into his face with fright and fear.

“Please, Master,” she groaned. “I need your cock.”

“No,” he said, then added, “not yet.”

When they turned onto the long driveway, Edge slowed the car to a crawl. The houselights were burning in several windows. He parked the car by the wide front steps and they sat in the dark silence while the car’s engine ticked and pinged and cooled.

Clarissa still had her hand in Edge’s crotch, and he still had his own hand holding her to stillness. But his cock was alive! Clarissa could feel it moving beneath the tight denim.

She was breathing in short little gasps, not knowing what to do next. Edge seemed torn by his own turmoil. He sat staring at the house in the tense silence, his expression stone-like.

“I’m training you as a submissive,” Edge said into the silence, not turning his head to look at her as he spoke.

“Yes, Master. I know. And I love my training… but it feels incomplete.”

“Because I won’t fuck you?”

“Yes. Because you don’t want me enough to take me,” she carefully manipulated her answer. “I feel like I’m failing because I can’t even arouse the man who I am supposed to serve. I go home each night, still a virgin, and ask myself what’s wrong with me.” She stopped then because her instincts told her she had to tread carefully. Edge was a clever man. If she came on too strong, he would see through the words and suspect another motive. She clamped her lips shut, and moved her hand on his cock just a little.

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