Unspoken Pleasure

I went to the teen section and browsed the new titles. There’s just something so exciting about holding a new book in your hand. Looking at the cover, reading the brief summary on the back or inside the book jacket, and reading how other authors are praising the book. I spent an hour browsing through title after title, making a list on my iPod touch notebook of books that caught my interest. If I bought every book I wanted to read, I would never have any money. I finally settled on a novel called Delirium. It was about a time in the future where when you turn eighteen you have an operation to prevent a horrible disease… love. It sounded interesting and different from other novels, plus I was definitely struggling with the word ‘love’ myself. I loved my time with Mistress Megan, I’d loved my one time at Le Chateau Club, I loved the attention I was getting at school now, I loved being submissive to Karen and I loved the thrill of the chase with Miss Morgan, even though I had failed.

But mostly, although I don’t think I would label it love, or lust either, my feelings for Ashley were different from anything I’d ever felt before. I mean I had greatly enjoyed my newfound submissiveness and all that followed, but my time with Ashley was different. With her, I felt something more than just pleasure, something more than just the heat of the moment, something completely different and foreign. I couldn’t explain it, or quantify it, but nonetheless it was embedded deep in my heart. I wanted to call her, but really had no idea what to say. How do you attempt to have a normal conversation two days after a night of such naughty and yet romantic sex? Even though I was pretty confident she still felt the same way I did, I know she had yesterday anyway, but how does one ever know for sure? Especially under the circumstances we began our relationship, me a cheerleading sub and all. Not to mention even if we did start a taboo lesbian relationship, I already had not one, but two Mistresses. Could I give them up? Did I want to give them up? These questions spun in my head like a tilt-a-whirl until I thought I might get sick.

I grabbed a fruit smoothie and a muffin and sat down to read my new book and relax. I wasn’t three pages in, when I heard a voice I knew. I glanced up from the novel I had just started and, sure enough, it was Miss Morgan ordering a drink too, a bag of books in her hand.

She hadn’t seen me yet. I contemplated the odds of seeing her again an hour later. Concluding they weren’t high, I took it as fate’s way of giving me a second shot.

Once she received her drink, a fruit smoothie as well, she turned around and saw me. I joked nervously, “Fancy meeting a girl like you in a nice place like this.”

She chuckled, also nervously. “Sorry for the hasty retreat earlier. I just needed time to think.”

Realizing I might still have a chance, I sympathized, “I was surprised, but I think I can see how it was necessary. Did you have time to think?”

She scanned the room, looking for I don’t know who or what, before sitting down beside me and taking a sip of her smoothie to give herself another few seconds to decide what to say to me. “Yes Jenny, I did,” she prevaricated, not really giving me anything, but still here.

She seemed to be struggling for what to say next. “And?” I questioned, attempting to lead her on.

“I can’t get you out of my mind,” she confessed.

Inside I was giddy with excitement, but outside I played it cool, offering an olive branch, but not demanding anything like I wanted to, respecting her personal space. “The offer still stands, Miss Morgan.”

She seemed to be attempting to process this when I decided, bother her personal space and to take a risk. I looked around briefly then grabbed her shoulders and kissed her; a quick, yet passionate three-second kiss. As expected, she didn’t break it. Instead, I did and whispered into her ear, “I will be at the front of the mall in five minutes standing at the curb. If you want to take me up on my offer, stop by and pick me up. If you don’t, I’ll catch the bus and head home.” I bit her ear gently and allowed my hot breath to linger. She gave just the softest of moans, all the evidence I needed to feel confident I’d gotten to her. Satisfied I’d enticed her but now forcing myself to leave the decision up to her, I stood up and walked quickly away. I was tempted to look back, but didn’t.

I couldn’t believe how excited and nervous I felt while I waited to see if my boldness had paid off! Two weeks ago I’d been too shy even to complain when my order was wrong at McDonald’s. Now I had just propositioned my teacher. I checked the time every few seconds, hoping I’d enticed her enough.

Just as I was beginning to think I’d failed a second time, Miss Morgan pulled up. I suppressed my exuberant joy and just quietly got in the passenger side and she quickly sped off like she was the getaway driver in a bank robbery.

Once on the road, she said, “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

I attempted to comfort her and convince her she was making the right decision. “Me neither, Miss Morgan. I’ve wanted this to happen for a long time.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Miss Morgan, I began to think I might be a lesbian as soon as I started taking your class. I began dreaming about you, not just daydreams, real ones. I fantasized about kissing you, touching you, pleasing you. I just never thought you might be interested in someone nerdy like me.”

“Oh my God, Jenny, I’ve had inappropriate thoughts about you all semester! Way before you began to dress so provocatively. I loved how cute, innocent and pure you looked,” my teacher confessed.

Insecurity hit me. “Do you mean you like the old me more?”

“No, but the old you was more the real you, don’t you think?”

This conversation was getting very real. I knew I had changed a lot this past week in all areas, but not once did I think it was a bad thing. Was I losing the real me? Was the old me even the real me? If not, who was the real me? These thoughts ricocheted around my head like a racquetball. I shared my sudden insecurities, “I don’t know who the real me is anymore, Miss Morgan.”

“Just do what you want to do Jenny. Don’t do things for others’ approval. You’re a great young lady and have a bright future ahead of you.”NôvelDrama.Org content.