The Poetry of Petals (Pt. 01-04)

Hey all! This is my first prose entry to Literotica, and it's quite a wordy story, approaching novella territory. The build-up is fairly substantial, with things picking up pace only in part 3, but I hope you'd appreciate the attention given to the development of the story and characters.

Fair warning: Part 4 introduces few incidents of rougher BDSM within a consensual, sexual context. All the story is with a dom-sub atmosphere. All characters are over 18 years old.

Part 5 is still early in the works, so any and all feedback and suggestions will be appreciated, and so will a vote, if you have a strong opinion about the story. I expect that eventually I'll upload a unified version, with all parts and revisions that I'm sure to make.

Abstract: a student enamoured with an English literature professor sees her desire blossom when she delivers the poem she wrote about him.

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Part 1: Sprouting Arousal

Walking into the small classroom, Ariadna again wondered to herself, why is it that in this class her personality is entirely separate from the one she has for all other, everyday activities?

She was so alien to herself that she was glad no one who attended this class knew her well enough to attest to that. The delicate spectacles she wore were always tilted down to her hands or notes while in class, never meeting another's eye; her already lean figure contracted and was reserved, as if trying to blend into the similarly moon-white wall; the suits, work dresses, and lab gowns had their place taken by flowery tops and dotted knee-long frocks (though the last ones were weather dependent); the neatly brushed and tightly knotted hair was rather semi-braided or combed in a creative manner. Today, however, Ariadna allowed her silky-smooth curls to fall in a hot-red firefall.

Oh, the lab gowns thing? See, Ariadna was studying medicine, but she had no intention of making it known. She couldn't point for certain to the reason for masking this fact about herself, but at least of this she had a few guesses: maybe because that would make her a strange specimen in this environment, maybe because she might in fact become the strange one there, or maybe because she feared what her fellow med students would think of her if they knew she was involved in this environment. In the end though, Ariadna was not going to torture herself with questioning this issue any longer, as she was already confused enough as to her motives for signing up to this extra-curricular elective course of Aesthetics in English Poetry.

Ariadna was satisfied with this minor repression for now, as she sat at the leftmost table of the second row, but found that she was still struggling to repress the main riddle.

True, Ariadna was unsure about what had led her to poetry initially. Then again, the consistent attendance despite all her doubts could be rationalised with a single reason, and it had just strolled into class.

Professor Gerard Rose.

So vivid was his name in her mind when he entered the classroom that she was unsure whether it escaped her lips with the soft sigh she let fly when he came into view.

"You're doing it again, luv."

The voice surprised Ariadna from her right, and she turned her head in time to see her friend, Sienna, sitting at the chair next to hers.

"Doing what?" she asked innocently.

Sienna raised a dark brow. "Ogling, Ari. Don't play the innocent part, babe, it doesn't suit you."

"You don't give me enough credit, Sy," smiled Ariadna.

Sienna rolled her eyes with the hint of a grin. "Naïve, then, is something you're not."

Ariadna laughed then leaned in for a cuddle. Sienna slid her Dell laptop out its sleeve in her rucksack afterwards and readied her note-taking program.

"Just don't think I'm criticising you, a'ight?" she said as she tidied her space. "'Least there's one guy you fancy at all - not that I blame you."

"Stawwwp! I don't fancy him!" protested Ariadna discretely, feeling her face tingling. "He is simply--"

"The apple of your eye?" suggested Sy with a blatant smirk. "Look, don't worry 'bout it, okay? Like I said, can't blame you."

Few in fact could. Professor Rose was virtually famous in campus: the tall academic was barely in the second half of his thirties, yet never was he seen in female companionship by either faculty or pupil. He has had rough yet groomed stubbles covering his fair features, and their colour matched the full wave of light chestnut on his head which crashed portside. The frame of his own glasses was far more sturdy, compared to Ariadna's, and he commonly wore a tweed jacket, a pair of tailored trousers, a narrow leather belt, and his ties were black or red at all times - even if they didn't agree with the rest of his outfit. Still, while his features were fair, he did not fill his jacket as much as one would expect from the commotion his appearance tended to stir - perhaps speaking to the general looks of the teaching staff. Ariadna, on the other hand, attributed his allure to his enigmatic, aloof manner, and to his soft yet charismatic eloquence - a trait he then made use of by swiftly bringing the class to attention.

"Good afternoon, class," he greeted, his voice ever so polite and inviting. "Until now, we have been surveying a sample of key poems from early medieval Britain, Anglo-Norman, and Norse realms. In this lecture, we jump ahead in time to review Renaissance poetics of great import, building up to the one and only: William Shakespeare."

As if he were her own private mythic siren, his words entranced Ariadna, who was clinging onto each one while summarising them dutifully without missing a beat - but raising her eyes to absorb his aura whenever a moment could be spared.

The class was drawing to an end when Professor Rose requested their eyes lifted from their screens and pages.

"It is usually around this time of the semester I assign a quiz to measure the overall comprehension of the class," he started with an understated smile. "Nevertheless, I decided to shuffle things up a bit this year. Instead, I request you all to compose a poem of your own, in the spirit of the ones we have thus far studied," Ariadna glanced at Sienna, alarmed, yet her friend was distracted.

"Is there any particular topic we should write about, professor?" Sienna asked with a raised hand.

Rose smiled politely and approached their desk. Ariadna gasped and shrunk in her sit when she faced with the aroma of his perfume and with the sun-through-leaves glimmer of his eyes.

"I grant you free hand to write..." his voice faded into ambiance of passion, as Ariadna found herself dumbfounded by the sweet yet overpowering odour engulfing Professor Rose. The time she needed to re-assert control over her own mind consumed a significant patch of his speech.

"... be a statement. Bear in mind, I will not be judging your use of poetic devices. With that said, I do demand a respectable consideration to the tone and structure which your poem should simulate.

"Thank you all, you are dismissed."

The two girls collected their belongings and hurried out the classroom, brushing passed the professor's desk with down-facing eyes and up-jutting shoulders; Ariadna wanted to take a long whiff of the air surrounding Mr. Rose, but wanting to avoid another daze or odd glances, she held her breath instead.

"Oh, Gosh," sighed Ariadna once out of the building.

"He is!" giggled Sienna airily, placing a hand over her heaving chest. "C'mon, let's bake in the sun and clear our heads from 'im - Lord knows you need it," she giggled, fanning her friend's face with her own hand.

"Stawwwp!" complained Ariadna with a laugh then pulled Sienna by that hand towards the lawns, where they could spread on their backs and soak some much-needed vitamin D. They were in no way the only ones to have thought of this idea but managed to find a less occupied patch of grass, near a furrow of swaying trees.

"Gosh, I've been thinking 'bout sunbathing all day. Wish I'd've thought about bringing a dress today," Sienna said as they put away the bags and collapsed with languid ease, "my legs are gonna feel neglected."

"At least you don't have the issue of freckles instead of tan," said Ariadna as she rested her head on her handbag, remarking on her friend's ebony skin tone before closing her eyes and absorbing the unusually warm sun.

"Oh, you poor baby!"

Ariadna snickered at her tease and at the following smack on the black jeans Sienna wore, then Ariadna allowed the ore-veins of tension and elation to be depleted in the face of the sun rays that were pouring through her pores.

The sunshine was a delighting, refreshing phenomenon that she was adamant on making the most of. Stretching on the grass, the sunbeams were caressing her skin like a lover she had long longed for, reaching wherever Ariadna allowed it to - and she meant not restricting its access: she twirled her chili-coloured locks and tossed them behind her head to expose her delicate neck and fair shoulders, she lifted the rim of her green-and-bronze dress as high up her silky thighs as her sense of decency tolerated, and likewise pulled slightly on her dress's cleavage to expose more the curves of her bosom.

Not a dozen minutes past, and Ariadna could feel her skin become pleasantly flushed, affecting her to lightly stroke with her fingertips her rosy neckline and chest.

'Rosy...'

Suddenly it was not her own fingers sliding along her ruddy, secretion-coated skin, but Professor Rose's, studying her curves, assessing how supple and smooth she was to the touch, how fierce is her resolve to have him handle her... and more...

The scarlet warmth of Ariadna's skin seemed then to sprout from within herself; she bit her lithe lip, and her thighs instinctively pressed one against the other.

"Hello, Professor Rose!"

Ariadna's eyes popped open, and she quickly lifted he head to see Sienna's slender hand waving to Rose who was wandering down the nearby pathway. Following Sienna's call, he paused, changed course, and redirected toward the girls.

'Did I summon him with my thoughts?' she thought nervously before quickly adjusting the rim of her dress and swapping moisture off her lip; Ariadna wished she could wipe away the dampness on her cleavage but there was no hope to do so without looking... well, voluptuous.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said with his tantalising politeness, "no more classes on today's agenda, are there?"

- "I have another one in thirty minutes or so."

- "No, sir."

Rose's eyes drifted towards Ariadna, following her respectable, small-voiced reply. She could feel her skin turning hotter than it ever was today under the steady evaluation of her professor.

"What is your major, Ms. Joly?" he asked, redirecting its effect at Sienna's eyes.

"The linguistics and rhetoric double-bachelor program, professor," she answered with an easy smile.

"Ah, you study under Professor Mira Assouline, don't you? Do you plan for a career as a translator?"

"For the UN, yes! How'd you know?"

"Professor Assouline has developed a repute for herself in grooming graduates for such roles," he said with a well-read smile. "You are in good hands. Rest assured, as long as you devote yourself to your studies you will achieve your objective.

"What about you, Ms. Hayes?" he asked, his serious and captivating eyes re-turned to Ariadna's.

"S--sir?" stuttered she.

His smile subtly increased. "What is your major, Ariadna?"

"Medicine, sir," she blurted automatically.

Rose's eyes widened and Sienna turned to her, bewildered. "Wot! You told me you study at the campus' east wing, but you never mentioned anythin' 'bout medicine! I thought you take social work or nursing, for Pete's sake!"

Ariadna recoiled with self-reproach.

"This is an impressive feat, miss Hayes," complimented Professor Rose, postponing the occasion for her explanation. "I have known Professor Brown to set a high standard in his department. How far along the degree are you? Third term?"

"Third year, professor."

"WOT! Aren't you nineteen next May?"

Ariadna wished she'd joined a monastery of standards in university's stead, where the world would be safe from her tongue slips.

"I am, Sy, I am!" she reassured. "I just... I started the degree early! As in, at the age of sixteen..."

Sienna gave her a look of awe mixed with accusation.

"It seems you are not unfamiliar with lofty expectations," observed Professor Rose with a reassuring nod; she still felt guilty and anxious, but this simple acknowledgement melted much of the ice in her gut.

"No, sir," she said with a small curve of lips that she could not help.

"I look forward to hearing your poem, then. I trust you will not let down, given your curriculum vitae," he said with a charming smile that warmed her, though the content of his words worried her.

"I will do my best, sir," she promised, forcing a smile she knew couldn't hope to measure up to his.

Professor Rose measured her for a serious moment, from bottom to top, lingering on her face. Her skin felt scorched under the sharp green of his eye.

"I know you will."

As expected, after the professor's departure, Sienna had thoroughly scolded Ariadna for withholding all that she did. Ariadna explained herself as best she could, but she must've not done well, as her friend continued to frown as she was leaving for her other lectures. Ariadna was unsurprised by her failure at representing herself; her mind was completely occupied by other cases... well, by another one. She sighed. It will take plenty of grovelling to satisfy Sienna.

She entered her flat; a small, tidy, and well-furnished place overlooking the parks, pubs, and whimsical cafés 'round the university. She was exceptionally proud of this place; it was a pricy three-bedroom flat with two toilets, but, given her prior scholastic accomplishments, the university not only provided her with a full living-costs scholarship, but also with a reduced-rent flat neighbouring the campus. She was therefore able to sustain a high lifestyle standard - and a private one, too.

The events of the day left Ariadna so distracted she nearly stomped her kitten upon entering when he approached to rub fondly against her ankles.

"Hullo, Mr. Smittens," she smiled and picked him up, scratching behind his ears. "Hadda good day?"

The cat purred pleasantly. She named his Smittens because the combination of eye-catching, feathery fur and the innocent façade of his eyes, resembling the puss from the Shrek 2 film. This caused any who saw him to be smitten. That is, until they experienced his loathing towards strangers.

Not even he could dissipate Rose's words from her mind.

She walked with the kitten in her hands, scratching distractedly at the back of his neck. She was deep in thought, and while she was, she set timer for the kettle fire; She thought of the expectation Rose has of her, she recalled his expressed appreciation of her success, and she thought of the vision her mind conjured under the caressing rays of sun...

She put Smittens away and scraped her shoulders and thighs; the grass has irritated her sensitive, lightly freckled skin.

"I'll feed you after a bath, alright?" she said to her kitten. "Just don't go browsing through the kitchen cabinets again, please. And don't knock off the hot kettle!"

Ariadna walked in the bathroom and twisted the handles to fill the bath with hot water, adding scented salts to the rising water level. She put away her glasses, then situated in front of her framed reflection.

She stood there, and she barely recognised herself: the cleavage of her dress laid limply lower than she had ever dared to let it descend beforehand, exposing more of her ample, unsupported breasts; the form of her pink-tinted neck was glistening from sweat and elation; singled strands of curls dangled down the sides of her face like bead curtains, bobbing freely; her blue eyes were twinkling with thrill, and her lips were never so red and plump to her eyes, like rose petals.

Slipping sideways the shoulder strands of her dress, Ariadna noticed her chest beginning to heave harder again, her blood coursing more rapidly. She'd never felt this way before. Slightly nervous at this newfound reflex, Ariadna shut her eyes and slid the dress down and off her body, only to discover her warm blood grows ever warmer by devoting herself to her sense of touch. Her lips parted, releasing a surprising soft moan which caused her eyes to pop open.

"Oh gosh," murmured Ariadna with self-directed surprise. She touched her lips after sinking into the bath's steamy water and smiled to herself, remembering how Sienna jokingly called Professor Rose a god.

Excitement knotted at that thought in her lower abdomen, demanding her surrender.

"Oh, Professor..." she yielded in a whisper.

A flow of lava released from this knot in her belly to her bloodstream, shocking in its heat. Incredulously, she could feel her flower grow hot as a glowing coal.

So alien was this response that she was positive some heated thing in the water was pressed against her tender labia majora, leaving burns on it. She reached quickly into the water and between her legs, Ariadna could touch nothing but her own sex, and that had sent electrical ambiance throughout her body, causing her to whimper "Oh!" at the unexpected sensuality. Shivers climbed up her arching spine, and lava was further building within, under her navel.

Ariadna was breathing harder, and she endeavoured farther by rubbing the ultra-sensitive skin. This effortless motion caused currents of lightning to rise in her. It was like she was lying in a hot tub with a plugged-in toaster; her lips twitched at this image, but the erotic ambiance swiftly crushed its humour. Every other emotion was trifling compared with consuming streams of passion coursing from her feverous sex.

'What am I...? I have never--OH!... Oh, gosh...' she was incapable to maintain this thought as her touch continued to stimulate her in full, and she instinctively persisted the caressing of her flower. The years of anatomy studies intervened on a subliminal level, and whilst she was rubbing with growing urgency, giving in to the divine sensation, Ariadna guided her middle finger higher up her slit.

"Oh gosh...!" she exhaled, and her eyes rolled when her finger found her clit, thereby emitting waves-and-waves of blazing delight.

Her own words induced the same thought they did earlier, and she was then imagining Professor Rose, supporting her limp body in his arms while reaching between her legs and handling her pussy in his so serious manner.

"Oh sir!" she whimpered more subtly. "Yes sir! Ahh... oh gosh, oh Mr. Rose! It feels so... so..."

Lost were her words in the whine which followed and in her heart's pounding. Flicking and massaging her clit was a thing she never knew, never tried, and the sensation was as thunder clapping up her body: her legs trembled with no burden, her breath was strenuous sans labour, her blood did flood thicker than oil.

"O-o-ohhh... mngh yes... uhh... yes Sir, please... don't--ooooh! Oh, please don't stop! I'm... I'm--a-a-AHHH!"

A rogue-wave of sweeping pleasure overtook Ariadna, obliterating every thought or reason in a tide of unleashed gratification, flooding all - apart from the image of Professor Gerard Rose rubbing her, supporting her fragile body, descending on her mouth with a kiss.

In some barren section of rationality in Ariadna's consciousness, she realised she was experiencing an orgasm. Her perfectly round mounds were still heaving, rising-and-falling with the ecstasy wherein her body was captivated; she reached and engulfed them with her hands, fondling them, matching her pace with her breath. Her touch stimulated her nipples, and she took one in her hand, twirling and pinching it; the feeling caused her to sink her teeth in her lower lip, and her eyelids to clamp harder. Ariadna was amazed by the degree of delight this tight, hard knot stirred in her abdomen.

She exchanged nipples, taking the right one in her hand, while her left hand slipped further down again, and she spread her legs even further apart. She did not recognise herself in this act.

Her finger again found her clit, rubbing it slowly and steadily in circles, increasing once again the tide of pleasure within her puss--

"Meow!"

Ariadna nearly sprung out of the hot water. She peeked over the ledge of the bath to find Mr. Smittens at her side, complaining insistently. She looked up and realised she forgot the door open.

She released a short, tense laugh. 'Not exactly who I would have liked walking in on me like that.'

Breathing deeply to relieve the tension, her heart filled with shame - was it due to her cat catching her in this position? Was it because she was fantasising of her professor? Was it simply because it was completely beside her character?

Ariadna shook her head to derail this train of thoughts and set her mind to exit the bath. Yet feeling unreasonably embarrassed to be seen naked by her baby cat, she stretched to reach her towel and wrapped herself with it before stepping out the bath and draining it - only to realise she never even put on soap or shampoo. She conceded on drying her hair and applying a hair mask, in addition to her bodily moisturisers. On a whim, she also sprayed some of her expensive perfume.

Ariadna then added enough cat food in Mr. Smittens' bowl to occupy him for a while and pacify his prolonged impatience. Then, she paced to the bedroom with the towel wrapping her body, made sure her desktop's camera is covered by the decorative clothespin she'd made, and finally removed her towel and dropped naked on her bed.

Her mind though refused to align itself with her posture, replaying back-and-forth her confusions and the revelation of her major to Sienna. This memory was still too fresh, and she couldn't separate the embarrassment her mind connotated with it, so instead she tried to do an exercise she has gotten used to: recollecting differently the incident, to make it seem at the very least educative, or even a pleasing one, if possible.

She knew it was childish, but the solace found in the memory was in Professor Rose's appreciation, in the subtle way he has defended her from her friend's scorn; she didn't know if that was in fact his intention, but this was how she settled to remember it.

The method proved more effective than it usually was, lighting the memory in a pink, giddy tint.

She flipped onto her stomach, her globes crashing against the mattress, and she buried the silly smile that climbed onto her face in her pillow: 'he's looking forward to reading my poetry!'

The thought was as intoxicating as his near-erotic fragrance.

This line of thought rekindled the former fever that has been coursing through her blood, the fever scantily termed "passion".

Torn between the desire to pleasure herself once more and between writing something which would spark admiration from her professor, Ariadna decided to at least start drafting something that would bring her pride and recognition. She rolled and put on her glasses then sat in the chair facing the computer display. She produced a new. docx file, and - let her fingers hover over the keyboard, finding herself with nothing to author a poem of.

"What do I want the poem to be like?" she asked herself softly and with diligence, recovering some of the personality she was more familiar with. "I want a poem that mimics Marie de France's relatively simple syllabic and rhyming format, but has a Shakespearean rhythm, even if he is a renaissance poet," she replied to herself out loud.

Sitting bare-skinned to draft the poem whose outline she envisioned soon proved to be poor planning: the velvet-like texture of the chair's lining pulled on her mind to other, less innocent directions.

She attempted to cut these tempting thoughts before they were formulated into anything tangible, but the alluring images persisted on re-emerging while she was looking helplessly at the plain sheet of digital paper. It was like a game of mental whack-a-mole.

Frustrated, Ariadna swivelled the chair around and frowned.

"Are you just going to make yourself comfortable in my head then?" she spoke out to the dusk-lit air with a frown. Instead of yielding to her determination, the hale bloom flowing through the window's semi-translucent curtains evoked ardent visions in her overly imaginative mind.

'Maybe it is time for me to give up,' she thought.

Swivelling back, Ariadna placed her fingers over the appropriate keys and slowly pushed: 'the blowing wind...'

Part 2: The Petals Play

Ariadna never intended to bring Mr. Rose such an insinuating poem to read - truly, she didn't! - she was just unable to follow with any other similarly successful poem, although she repeatedly tried.

In the week leading up to their next lecture, she was swamped with errands and with her medicine studies: complicated new notions on lectures, catching up on neglected material, making summaries of each of the above, helping (more mature) classmates by sharing with them her insights and notes, tending to her place and her kitten, and lastly making time to see friends outside university setting - Sienna included.

And throughout these pursuits, Professor Gerard Rose was haunting her mind.

Between her diverse obligations and her writer's block, she found herself on the day of the lesson with nothing to show for but the impulsive poem she wrote- hence, with no choice, she pressed Ctrl + P on the library computer and collected the printed poem before heading to class.

No sunshine was expected anytime soon; the forecast was torrents and thunderstorms for this week at least. She combed her fiery hair in a messy bun this day, and she wore white tights under a pair of earth-brown wellies and a knee-long red skirt with narrow black lace stipes; the top part was covered by a white, snuggly fit jumper with a turtleneck collar over a cerise tight tank-top that cupped her breast neatly. All the outfit was draped with a black trench coat. Only after she saw her reflection again in the glass reflection of a bus station did Ariadna flush: she'd chosen her colours to fit with Mr. Rose's possible tie choice.

She was the first to arrive that day, before the previous lecture hour even concluded. There were benches in the colourful halls of the humanities faculty building, yet she felt again as though rest is not a thing for her.

Reflecting on her emotions, Ariadna realised she was anxious beyond her usual anticipation for class to start... and she had no explanation as to why. She knew her poem to be highly insinuating - an incredulous verse to hand to a professor, especially to the one to whom her attraction it processes - yet her enthusiasm could not be relieved: irrationally, she wanted to reveal to him the hold he has over her.

Again, Ariadna felt frustrated by her own unexpected personality. In the life she'd led up to this poetry elective course, she's always been the most down-to-earth, ambitious and well-planned person she knew. When she decided to enrich her mind from a field opposite to her interests, she never suspected she would develop both aptitude and involvement for the subject.

She could have never prepared for Professor Rose.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Hayes. First to class I see."

Startled, she looked over her shoulder to find Professor Gerard Rose standing beside her with his subtle, well-mannered lip curl, folding his drenched umbrella.

'I must be summoning him by thought!'

"Yes sir," she replied in a small voice after a moment-too-long of staring, struggling to divert her eyes from the captivating gleam of his. "But... umm, you are early to unlock the classroom, too, aren't you? Class doesn't start for the next twenty minutes."

"True, but I favour arriving early and set up my space, if I can." He walked past her and inserted the key already in his hand into the lock, then turned to meet her adoring gawk with true concern. "Have you come early because you require something of me?"

"What--what could I require, professor?" she asked in an awkward manner.

His smile returned, now entertained. "Have you a question or anything to discuss? Have you experienced any issues with devising a poem?"

"Oh! No, no sir, everything is--is fine. My poem is... it's ready, I finished it the day you assigned to write it."

He momentarily smiled more broadly and nodded, then he turned to twist the key.

As if unlocking a door in her mind as well, a realisation stormed into her consciousness: it is just the pair of them, close and alone in the classroom for the next dozen minutes at least. The thought curled up a ball of hot, eager tension in her lower abdomen.

Ariadna followed his measured pace into class and sat dazed upon her regular desk. She rested her shoulder bag beside her and her eyes on Mr. Rose. Flicking a curl away from her face, she regarded him absentmindedly as he was occupying himself with preparing his PowerPoint presentation, a book of collected poetry, and his lecture notes.

For several minutes she watched him bother, not noticing the time or anything apart from his deliberate motions. Rose's stream of motions flowed without stumbling to the other side of his desk, sitting opposing to her, and...

"Are you certain there is nothing I may assist you with, Ariadna?" he asked before his eyes to focused on hers.

His question broke the invocation that ensnared her, the moderate tone he used for her first name alongside their unobstructed proximity sending jolts down her spine, like the hairs on the back of a cornered alley-cat.

"What? Oh, umm..." she could see herself then, a cliché of a smitten teen, wanting to know his touch, to make him her own with her words, but stumbling through them. "Would... um, do you want me to hand you the poem now, or...?"

He smiled amusedly. "No, keep it for now, we will read the poems at the end of the lecture."

"We?"

The first other pupil entered the classroom, and the pair diverted their eyes to look as he greeted Professor Rose. The professor responded in his polite tone and walked to sit behind his desk once more; Ariadna walked heavily to her place. She pulled out a page from her bag and doodled whirling, arbitrary lines.

"Hey babe," breathed Sienna as she sat next to Ariadna and hugged her after removing her raincoat. "Listen, thanks so much for your help on the poem. I usually don't like poetry slams, but now it feels like some'n' I might actually be comfortable with performing. I owe you one!"

"No problem, but... performing? We don't--"

"Good afternoon, all," came to life the captivating voice of Professor Rose. "If everyone is present, we may begin. Firstly though, I am aware there were no few struggles with assembling structurally appropriate poems, but to my understanding no one is missing or missing a concluded poem for today, so at the final third of the lesson, each will deliver their poem for the class, and we will dedicate a two-minute discussion for each one regarding the quality of the outcome. For now, let us return to renaissance time with Sidney's sonnet sequence..."

Ariadna's eyes were sapphires of terror.

"We're supposed to read our poems aloud?!" she whispered to Sienna, who returned her a worried and ironic look.

"Ya, he'd said that from the start! Don't you remember? He said he wants our poems to be read as a statement. You must'a realised it when 'e practically told you last week he can't wait to hear you read your poem!"

"Oh no," murmured Ariadna.

"What's wrong? You don't have stage fright, do you?"

Ariadna shook her head.

"Then what'd you write that's so awful to read aloud?" probed Sienna, catching on quickly.

"Quiet in the classroom, please."

Gerard Rose's charisma could have Jesus get a gum-pink mohawk - and certainly quiet in his class.

Ariadna sat there and could not believe herself - again this happened! She felt so awkward and confused in this environment all the time. This kind of errors don't happen to her in medicine, where everything seems to be clear and sensible - within and around her alike.

'Why can it not be this way here, too?' she thought in desperation.

She can't read this poem in class. She mustn't.

The lecture felt as though it was playing in timelapse. For once, Ariadna wrote nothing Mr. Rose had said. She went through class in a murky haze, with Sienna glancing in her direction, concerned.

"Very well, we are at the sixty-minute mark - it is time to put away your notes and draw out your poems," said the professor with a nearly-familiar smile.

Ariadna immediately got up to head out the room.

"Hold, Ms. Hayes," she was brought to a halt at once. "Are you heading out for the lavatory? Will you return shortly?"

She shook her head helplessly. "I just... I did not know we were supposed to recite the poems... I didn't realise..."

"In that case, unless it is urgent, I should request you be seated. This assignment is graded, and I will have no-one skipping it over nerves."

Wordlessly, Ariadna sank back to her chair and into the haze of panic.

One-by-one, starting with the right-back of the class, did the pupils rise to read their poems. In the back of her mind, she appreciated some were decent, though none stood out in particular.

'On the other hand, their theme is either innocent or modern-day cliché, unlike my verse,' she considered feebly.

"Last but not least, Ms. Ariadna Hayes, please stand up and perform your poem in a clear manner," formally instructed Rose after discussing Sienna's poem. "Does your verse have a scheme it simulates?"

Ariadna stood and swallowed hard.

"The syllabic form of Marie de France, written in the iamb metre," muttered she.

Professor Rose seemed intrigued as he nodded.

"Continue."

Like a leaf trembling in the wind, picked Ariadna the leaf of paper from the table and raised her voice over her own heartbeat and the strident bullet-raindrops - and recited:

"The blowing wind bellows and moans,

but leaves and hearts she mov'th - her hone.

The sun doth scorch to oust the night,

the sun begot a flower bright!

Her scarlet beams have washed till borne

the rose, her bleeding dusks adorn

my locks, and thus know I: mine is Rose.

This verse bore forth by yearning throes

which spirit move, till die the blare:

when we do lie in bed, I'll bare

my flower's truth for Rose to know,

and blushing petals state, 'I doe!'"

Silent fell on the class, cast by those too nervous to respond to the poem and those too detached to comprehend its meaning. The rain continued to tirelessly shoot at the windows. Ariadna's eyes were downward cast.

At last, she spoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..." she pleaded, then released a choked sniffle. "Please, may I be excused?"

Receiving no verbal answer, Ariadna looked up with fragile defiance reflecting in her watery eyes. Professor Gerard Rose exhibited no embarrassment nor anger; his piercing emerald stare inspected hers for a prolonged moment, enchanting her mind even in her brittle state, causing shame and surroundings to subside, and inspired her imagination to see on his face what her mind was wishfully contriving...

At last, he nodded, breaking the spell, and she rushed outside, releasing the paper leaf to parachute onto her desk behind her. She could feel all gazes trace her.

She hid in a bathroom stall for several minutes past the end of the period, allowing shame to overflow in her eyes.

"Babe? You in there?"

Ariadna let out an audible sob at Sienna's soft voice. She did not resist the opening of the unlocked stall. Meeting her friend's almond eyes, she recognised they were abundant with pity.

"I must be a pathetic mess," she snickered then snuffled gloomily.

Sienna shook her head in disbelief and crouched in front of her friend. "What were you thinking, babe? You're an intelligent girl; what'd you figure will happen if y'read poem?"

"I didn't realise... I thought I'd hand it over, and if he would have done justice by me, he'd have graded it based on its merit, or else asked me to write a new one. I never wanted... this."

Sienna searched Ariadna's face for more.

"Was that all you thought when you brought this poem?"

Ariadna returned her friend's gaze and let the answer float up to her surface. Sienna's pity returned.

Ariadna laughed humourlessly. "I am such an airhead."

Sienna took her friend's hand with a smile and shook her head. "That's the last thing you are, y'silly genius. What you are, is green in fancyin' a man."

Ariadna smiled despite herself; they got to their feet, and she pressed Sienna in for an honest hug. "Ta, Sy, you're the best girlfriend, and exactly who I needed with me now."

"Aww... you're welcome, luv."

She removed her glasses, wiped her tears, and took off her sweater, keeping on her cerise, tight tank top before carefully washing her face.

While she fixed what little makeup she wore, she noticed something missing. "You have my things, don't you?"

"Oh, umm..." Sienna suddenly seemed anxious, "actually, Professor Rose insisted to safekeep your bag and coat. He wants that I escort you to his office."

Ariadna felt her face drain of blood.

Swallowing hard, she said, "So let's go."

Sienna nodded in encouragement, and they headed out the loo.

The door denoting "Prof. Gerard Rose" was on the fourth floor of the building. It neighboured official conference halls of the department's administration and was set directly above his classroom. Against the doorframe of his office, under the sign "Please wait for permission to enter", laid Ariadna's shoulder bag and her coat carefully folded on top of it. The door itself was wide-open, revealing the owner of the office standing inside it.

"Given your reaction, I deemed it appropriate to leave you with a choice:" he said before anyone spoke with more compassion than Ariadna presumed, "you could take your belongings and postpone our conversation for another day, or come inside, and face me."

She felt as though she'd swallowed a rigid ice cube; his phrasing made it seem like a threat... no, like a challenge, a test of some sort. Despite the fear and confusion his presence induced, she was adamant to pass it - whatever it was. She nodded in a decisive façade and entered, bringing along her belongings.

"You can go on to class, Sy. I'm ok. Promise. Thanks so much."

Sienna smiled and blew a kiss. "Catch ya later!"

"... to hear how it went" were the words she left unsaid behind her while hurrying along.

She turned to face her object of fear and adoration. Professor Rose gestured at the chair beside his, both facing the neat desk along the wall vertical to the doorway. "Please shut the door and sit down, Ariadna."

Her own name uttered in his quiet, moderate voice and the jade of his gaze were electrifying and terrifying simultaneously.

He looked at her for a moment after she sat, as if measuring something within her, and she found herself unable to look away from his unreadable, fair complexion.

Then he smiled. "I have a suggestion that might make future classes easier for us both: since neither you nor I will have the class discuss the piece you composed, let us review your poem on our own while trying to see past its theme, and I will grade your assignment in accordance with its standard."

Relief dissolved the petrified ball of tension which has been curled within her for the past couple of hours - he was willing to let it pass!

"I would love that. Thank you, sir."

At the sound of the last word, he looked at her for a moment with concentration. She knew he could notice her nibbling nervously on her lower lip, could spot the pink-tinted blush running from her cheeks down to her collar, could hold her open, captivated blue gaze with his own. The revelation lasted a heartbeat.

"You are most welcome, Ariadna.

"I collected your poem after you left class earlier," he notified her, his voice returning to its aloof mystique, though her own heart seemed to think otherwise, beating hard with irrational anticipation; "shall we go through it?"

"Please." Ariadna pulled her chair closer to the desk and to him. At once she froze, feeling intoxicated, perceiving his flooring aroma. She realised her former relief was (frustratingly) doused - he was willing to let it pass...

"You employed the rhyming scheme of the Lays by Marie de France perfectly. The syllabic numbers per line is likewise applied well passim - I was especially pleased to note you adhered to the eliding of an unstressed e, when necessary.

"The archaic language is used precisely, though perhaps too prudently. In the first two lines you conjured a resounding auditory image; I, for one, imagined rustling leaves and a moved heart which impose order and a tune on the moving air. Quite evocative.

"The various alliterations, assonances, and consonances contribute significantly to the sound and flow of the poem, though I feel some words could have been converted to achieve consonance clusters. Overall, the entire poem is constructed artfully; I do not think I would stray if I said yours is the best poem of the class. I am impressed by your progress, and your wit."

Her smile could not have glowed brighter. "Thank you so much, sir. Your approval means the world to me."

His eyes met hers, as if seeing all that the lively caerulean holds. The thick tension which followed made her see she has confided too much; surely, it was due to the sousing force of his fragrance. The rain-pounding ambiance seemed to simulate her heart's.

He did not divert his stare when he resumed speaking.

"Regarding the use of the iamb meter, I noticed there were a couple of incidents you did not sustain it throughout the entire poem. For example, the word couple 'her hone'."

Something was changed. She could feel it. His speech was slow and calculated, as though charged with layers of clandestine meanings.

"I know," said Ariadna timidly, her abdomen warm. "I couldn't maintain the theme of this line while retaining both the syllabic number and the iamb meter - I compromised on an H assonance, which evokes wind and air."

"Sir," he corrected with a subtle curl of lip.

"Y--yes sir," she stammered.

He was the centre of gravity in the room, of her world.

"Tell me about the other incident, following the colon."

Her attraction, as physical as magnetism, has been pulling her to Rose, emerald boring into sapphire.

"It--it was a deliberate deviation, sir..."

"Oh?"

Ariadna knew it to be a fact; they were both leaning forward. Under their power, she revealed the truth's full scope.

"I--I wanted the change of pace to... to confuse, as--as you confuse me. I wanted the reader, wanted... you... to hold as you read my desire, for you to be mine, in the phrase 'mine is Rose'."

His scent was a drug dazing her senses. She was sinking forward.

"Smart girl."

He was smiling plainly with confidence undaunted.

"Th--thanks."

He reached and grasped the side of her face. She gave a faint squeal at his brusque handle, her heart at her throat.

"Sir, Ariadna."

"S--sir."

"I like it when you call me Sir."

When he kissed her, the entire world seemed to have melted away and out of sight - then she realised her eyes rolled and shut with the discharge and gratification of her fiercest longing.

He held her face steady and kissed her lips slow, preventing her from crashing into him as she was driven to do. He was kissing her lips in a controlled, curious manner - a honeybird sipping wayward nectar drops from flower petals. Then, he used his hand on Ariadna's face to bend her head backwards and he covered her mouth with his, though he still merely tickled her lips with the tip of his tongue, which were gaping in anticipation; she gasped and shuddered to the core, waiting for the release which would come when he--

"Hmmm..." she let loose a shivering moan into his mouth: the grip of her face grew firmer in a sudden, and Rose pulled her to him, slid his tongue into her mouth, and they directly lip-locked. At last, he was kissing her in earnest, his lips fitting perfectly against hers as they pressed hard, his tongue warm and soft as it batted demandingly at hers, making her abdomen to be steeped with thick, hot elation.

It wasn't enough. She wanted to feel more and more of him. His touch stimulated her as none ever did, and she felt as though this entire time her body was expecting to take over her mind. Acting on a primal urge, Ariadna slipped forward in her chair, not preventing her skirt to ride up her thighs, and reached to cradle his face in her hands while looking into the green which burned in his eyes like shimmering acid: feverous and ardent. Running her palms across his rough stubbles, she pulled Professor Rose closer still, to taste and feel his tongue and lips, her chest rising to rub against his, while the hand he rested on her face fell to grasp her dainty neck. She was shocked when her lips separated from his and heard herself release an involuntary moan when he did, and a smirk of pleasure followed as he handled her assertively.

Ariadna didn't even realise she was biting her lip from raw hunger.

Rose absolutely did.

His eyes turned boiling cauldron of deep, grave green. His hand brashly grasped her rear, and she inhaled sharply as she was plucked from her chair, seated sideways on his thighs, then enwrapped in his arms and pulled firmly by her hips. Ariadna was thrilled to tightly press her body against the man she has been hungering after for so long. The same mischievous part of her mind which orchestrated the composition of the poem and everything that followed has now been guiding her to surrender to it in full - and she dared not refuse.

"Oh yes, Sir..."

Her chest began heaving hard as she clutched his face with both hands and resumed to devour his mouth, overcome with sweltering passion; flaming strands of curls fell in a mess on her face, and her brow and bra-less breast grew shiny from heat.

Rose then grabbed her curtly by her curls and she blinked as he unexpectedly forced her head tilted backwards.

"Ahh...! Oh my God!" she breathed when, again, she discovered her blood coursing with newfound sensual pleasure. She sighed and rolled her eyes reflexively as he began kissing and sucking her pulse, her essence. The force of his lips and his tug was powerful enough to arch her frame backwards, so she was wholly supported by the arm with which Rose was pulling on her curls. She cradled his head and ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed her and tightened his lips and tongue unto her skin, allowing her mounds crash against his hard chest.

With the fabric of her tights so thin, she could feel his chest was not the sole rigid body part against which she was grazing. She groaned and bit her lip again.

Professor Rose's mouth started declining along her skin, reaching her clavicle; his breaths stimulated hers to accelerate, and hard-winged butterflies to darting inside her - she knew what was coming... and she couldn't wait. Wanting to grant him better access to her breast, she readied herself to swing her leg across, so she could straddle him when--

Knock-knock-knock.

"Professor Rose, are you there?"

Ariadna gasped and froze with her hand covering her mouth; icy dread dripped down her spine - they must not be caught like this! Mortified, she moved to stand up, only to find Professor Rose's arm restraining her.

"Hold outside one minute, please, I am on a private session with a student."

"Alright, professor."

Her wide eyes lowered to meet his in silence. His masculine complexion was the embodiment of calm again, yet of restrained frustration too. Smiling amusedly at her dread, he slowly reached to flick a rogue hot-red curl away from her face before stroking delicately her flushed, fair cheek with his thumb. His smile and his tenderness eased Ariadna, and she allowed him to nudge her into one last kiss... or a couple.

He helped her to her feet in a gentlemanly gesture and sat her back in her chair. Then, she looked up and found him standing and looking at her, amused once more.

"What is it... Sir?" she added a bit late.

"You have the most delightful cervix, yet I fear it needs covering-up." His irony was tainted with slight remorse.

Ariadna was confused for few moments, then she flinched at the dawning.

"Oh no!" she mumbled, pressing her palms against her flushed cheeks before she pulled on the turtleneck jumper ('Thank goodness it's a turtleneck!') over her head, then sat, withdrawn, in the chair.

Ariadna noticed Professor Rose continued standing and looking at her.

"What?" she asked nervously.

He snickered to himself and crouched beside her, looking gently at her, a hidden flame behind his eyes warming his look.

"You are adore-able when you are this shy and perplexed," he said softly, then smiled slyly, "and you look incredulously delicious when you flush as so."

She smiled despite herself at his compliment, though flushed slightly more by it - as he undoubtedly intended, judging by the subtle smugness which followed.

"You are so calm... at ease. Have you had any, um, experience with this sort of... affairs?" she asked as cautiously as her numb mind allowed her to phrase.

He grinned more widely. "I have not. You are the only person in this establishment whom I have ever found myself desiring to be with in this manner."

Ariadna was on cloud nine. She rested and rubbed a hand against his cheek - an act as comfortable as sleep. "Can we, um... talk later, and explore more this 'manner'?"

He smiled. "Give me your phone."

She mirrored his smile and obeyed.

"Password?"

She directly disclosed it.

He typed-in his contact information, then sent himself a text from her phone, so he would have her digits.

"Come," he said and stood after returning the phone to its owner, "let us show inside our disrupter."

Ariadna giggled, then collected her belonging, hanged her coat on her forearm, and stood facing him with her familiar admiring look. Without a word, he adjusted her sweater's collar and brushed some wild curls into place. Immediately she could feel her face begin to tingle.

Professor Rose smirked and leaned forward. She closed her eyes before the kiss.

"Incredulously delicious," he instead repeated in a whisper, directly into Ariadna's ear. She sighed softly.

The next thing she knew was that the door opened.

"Ah, Jonah, do come in," said Professor Rose, holding the door open.

A short, curly-haired guy walked in, exchanging sheepish greetings with Ariadna before she stepped out.

"Oh, and Ms. Hayes?"

She turned to see Professor Rose wearing a knowing smile as he folded and shoved her poem in his pocked. She felt herself affected once more by his dazzling smile.

"Y--yes, sir?"

His smirk grew broad and wicked. "Remember, I'll be seeing you here after my class in a week's time."

Before she broke out of the shock, he closed the door.

Walking out and away from the building with her face averted from the torrents of rain, Ariadna's complexion was a beaming sunshine.

Reaching the lobby of her building, she decided to quench the curiosity within her, and so she unlocked her phone. She noted that Professor Rose did not simply type his name and number in her contacts, but likewise placed the title "Prof." to his name and even inserted his private email and his birthday; she then involuntary blushed when she'd noticed the nickname he has picked for himself was - what else - Sir.

Switching to the messaging app to see what he'd texted himself, she immediately glanced around to make sure no-one saw her screen. Ariadna was filled with internal warmth and blood rushing by a secret pleasure as she read the output:

>I am yours, Sir.

Part 3: Nipping Nectar

'It was a dream. It must've been... oh, please don't let it be a dream!'

This thought confusion was the first thing Ariadna's mind brought up in the following morning. She slowly opened her eyes to the dimly lit room and to the easy sound of the alarm song. Her heart was longing for what surely were her most vivid of fantasies to have been incidents in reality.

'At least I had a night with wonderful dreams,' she thought grimly as she was sitting up and stretching. Just then, she caught a blurred glimpse of her reflection in the mirror - there were faded purple marks on her neck!

With her heart picking up pace, Ariadna quickly donned her glasses, picked her phone up from the bedside, flicked off the alarm with annoyance, and opened the messages app.

>I am yours, Sir.

Her smile could not have been wider. Flipping over to her back, she brought the phone close to her eyes and read this message his own fingers typed on her phone over-and-over.

'It was real!'

Outside was pouring cats and dogs, unsurprisingly. Her space, though, was vibrant and warm; further inside, her core was a glowing sun, whose beam got caught in her lips.

Somehow, through this intense moment of elation, she'd noticed a chain of distraught messages from Sienna. Ariadna felt a sting of self-reproach, realising she completely forgot to let her know what had transpired in Professor Rose's office - for all Sienna knew, she got kicked out of the poetry course... she was bad for neglecting Sienna after she cared for her so much when she embarrassed herself.

A yowl and a meek scrape beside the bed signified her that she's been idling in bed for too long. Ariadna giggled as Mr. Smittens struggled to leap into the bed with a pout.

"A'ight, a'ight, Mr. Smittens, I'm coming." Ariadna smiled and picked him up. She got up and out the bed bare skinned and walked in a pace light as her smile to feed the kitten.

"You are lucky you're so darn cute, you lil' rascal," she play-whined fondly, then headed to prepare for the day.

Ariadna texted with Sienna throughout it, first soothing her concern, then trying to soothe her frustration and the offense she took at the silence Ariadna practised; the latter was less strenuous to accomplish on this occasion (particularly after Ariadna promised to elaborate on all that has taken place during the conversation with Rose) since her professor was not as fresh in Ariadna's memory as in the previous circumstance.

They found time to socialise next Friday evening, after their classes, in a nearby pub which put on indie Jazz or Rock bands all through Friday nights. Ariadna told her friend the truth, or rather part of it, revealing the compromise Mr. Rose offered, reviewing with her the plainly technical aspects of the poem before he ranked it appropriately. She did not leave out the praises he attributed to it.

Owing to Sienna's relief for the Rose's lenient approach, and to the couple of pints Ariadna ordered as an apology for her behaviour, Sienna was soon expressing her thrill for the excellent grade and showered her with applause. Eventually, Ariadna managed to join in on the laugh and jokes over the ridiculous scenario her poem had created - doubtlessly credited to the extra beers she'd downed.

Ariadna was soon feeling properly buzzed and a ruddy tone was beginning to bloom over her lightly freckled complexion, extending down to the flattering cleavage of her buttoned-up blue blouse before vanishing in the black lace bra, whose rim was peeping.

Ariadna realised this was something she has been needing - a forced release from worry, inhibition, and self-consciousness. She laughed plenty for the elation of it, she hugged and talked easily with Sienna, with whom she felt herself growing increasingly closer, and she enjoyed feeling sexy in her clothing for the sake of it. She also felt sure that it was due to their allure that she was fending off invitations to dance throughout the night in good spirits... to Sienna's dissatisfaction.

"And wot was wrong with this geizer, ay?" she asked as annoyed as the booze allowed. "He was nearly as courteous as your good-ol' chump, and 'e is unquesh... unque... Christ, I'm plastered!" she laughed as she lost her train of thought.

Ariadna laughed and ordered a pair of water glasses.

"Nooo, I don't want watta," she objected sloppily with near disgust, "I wanna dance! And I want you to pull this un-que-stio-na-bly hot geizer!" she laughed at her struggle.

"I'm not pulling any geizer tonight," laughed Ariadna, "and you need to finish your water before dancing!"

Sienna gave a dutiful salute before accidentally downing both their glasses in one breath. Ariadna was so amused and soused by then she needn't much persuasion to join Sienna to the dancefloor, as the band shifted to a more upbeat fifties' rock music. Sienna's bubbly and familiar demeanour inspired Ariadna with energy and delight. She soon found herself swaying, bobbing, and throwing around her improvised bun of flaming curls with enthusiasm that nearly measured up to her friend's. The sole thing holding her back must have been the crass touches of strangers who rotated her to dance with them without so much as an "Oi" or even rubbed themselves against her Ah, the alcohol-soaked breath of a man grinding against her hip - what's there not to like?

"Si, I'm heading back to the table!" called Ariadna after countering another; Sienna herself was far more particular in whom she was rejecting.

"Nooo Ari, don'!" she complained, though not quite as fiercely as before, with a tall, broad-shouldered bloke by her side.

"Just resting my toes, babe! Be back soon!"

It was a blunt lie, but she wanted this bulky guy to not think the girl he's left with is without backup. Sienna seemed displeased but did not press further as she gave in to the rhythm of the music and to the freakin' mahoosive fella by her.

Ariadna sat and watched from afar while sipping from a fresh glass of water. The entire dancefloor was dotted with folks fondling and leaning into one another much more willingly than herself. The pub's space must have been saturated with pheromones, for then, when she was sitting apart from it, she began feeling affected by the atmosphere. Her imagination conjured the sensation of a pair of hands sliding over her slender figure, pulling her tightly in by her hips, descending to feast on her mouth, with her responding with matching fervour. She felt herself desperate to be introduced once more to these pleasures, right there, on the dancefloor, though none there even remotely allured her. She trusted none of them.

Sienna popped Ariadna's bubble when she crash-landed into the sit next to hers. She held away her curly tangle of black hair from her shoulders and narrow neck while fanning her perspiring face with her other hand.

"Drew's gone to grab a cold one," she announced nonchalantly. "And! He said he's gotta bud from the swim team here, too," she added with an overly insinuating glance.

Ariadna's lips stretched. "Make sure to thank him for the offer."

"Oh, g'on, babe, live a lil'!" Sienna frowned.

"I do!"

"There's much more you're missing out on, ya silly genius," said Sienna and threw her hair back down.

Ariadna shrugged and concentrated on gulping from her glass. It wasn't that she was avoiding these feelings by choice, it wasn't that she wanted not to feel "much more", as Sienna put it - the images her mind fabricated made her sure of that - it was that she knew how she was introduced to these thrills. She knew whose allure neither of these men could hope to contest with, and she was confident in whom she wanted to re-experience these sensations with.

Ariadna grinned into her water: she was half-expecting Rose to emerge out of the corners' shadow, as if summoned by her wishful thinking--

"That can't be-- is that Professor Rose sitting over there?!"

"Impossible! He is not!" barked Ariadna and slammed her glass on the table. She could not explain her spontaneous anger, but it mattered little; it melted like butter on a pan when she recognised the truth in Sienna's words: sitting in a private booth at the shadowed corner (where else?) was their poetry professor.

"Bloody hell, it is 'im!" Sienna nearly cried.

Professor Rose was holding the handle of a frosty Guinness as it rested on a coaster. It seemed he was feeling serene as he was taking pleasure in drinking it slowly. In the meantime, he was swinging in his seat to the rhythm with his eyes closed, clearly basking in the music, which had then shifted to play a sophisticated instrumental cover for Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love, to the crowd's cheers.

"Wot does he do here?!" asked Sienna in outrage.

'My bad, Si, I conjured him.'

"The same thing we do, I surmise..."

"Luv, save the 'surmise' for lectures, not for yer drunken truly," teased Sienna before returning her inquisitive eyes to their professor. Ariadna blushed but laughed despite her own bewildered state.

Just then Sienna's Drew chose to drop out of the blue, landing three shots: "Bottoms up, ladies!"

At once Sienna diverted her focus to the man whose attention she held and to the drinks he brought.

"Oh, you shouldn't have, I am nearly--"

"Babe, you said you're gonna live a lil', so if ye don't findda Tarzan for your Jane tonight, at least drink with yer gal!"

Ariadna nodded reluctantly and Sienna pouted: "With a smile, Ari!"

She couldn't help but laugh at that and the three "bottomed-up", as Sienna's stud had so eloquently put. Immediately she could feel the familiar, numbing warmth inside, and she knew her head would soon feel anaesthetised, too.

"You coming to dance, gals?"

"Ya, just give us ladies a sec to gossip, a'ight?" said Sienna with an enticing smile.

The stud scanned the petite figure of the ebony girl, as if not only to admire Sienna, but to also remind him what is at stake if he left her there. He nodded quietly and remained seated at her opposite.

"I've got me an idea," said Sienna, drunkenly swallowing syllables, and a glint in her eye as she slanted towards Ariadna. "Why don't you and me get Rose the next round - t'say cheers for 'is con--consideration!"

Ariadna instantly blushed more deeply, matching her hair.

"You're off your face, Sy."

"Whyyy, what's wrong? You'll only be sayin' ta," whinged Sienna teasingly.

Ariadna knew what such a gesture in fact would imply: thank you for imprinting your lips on my neck, Sir. Hypothetically speaking, she had no issue with uttering these words, just not in the publicity of a pub - and with her friend, no less!

"Sorry, Si. I think I'd rather wait 'til Monday for that. Let him enjoy the music, and you - go mad with your tank-ov'a'man!" she goaded her.

She thought she managed to persuade her friend at first. Sienna nodded at her refusal, but she then stopped a passing waiter.

"See that bloke o'er there, in the corner? Next round of wha'e'er 'e has on us, a'ight? Ta."

"Wha'--SIENNA!"

"Bye, bae! C'mon, Drew!"

"NO! wait!"

Ariadna could only watch anxiously as her friend grabbed the confused man and stumbled away laughing, her bubble butt bouncing in her skimpy, cherry-blossom dress.

Mortified and petrified did Ariadna watch the waiter stride over to the booth where Professor Rose was sitting, then lean in to let known of Ariadna's seeming gesture. When the waiter pointed at her table, she could do none other than impose a stiff smile on her lips and jerk a hand to a wave - regret waving mid-rise - then, realising Rose must have already espied her hand, resume waving.

She recognised his polite smile as he calmly exchanged words with the waiter, then, to her dismay, he got to his feet and paced over to where she sat!

'Oh no! Sienna shouldn't see us together the way we were last time!' was the fearful thought filling her muddled mind.

Despite her sense of dread, Ariadna could not help but appreciate the fresh image of Professor Rose, which was lightyears from that she has grown accustomed to. The change was most evident in the absence of either red or black tie. That night, he was wearing desert-sand-coloured trousers, hanging over leather shoes of cherrywood shade - bordering the line between brown and red. His torso was enwrapped in a casual buttoned-up shirt, its shade cooler and lighter than that of feathery-clouded skies, with its sleeves folded accurately to ring around his forearms; the shirt complimented his figure in a manner the tweed jackets never carried out. Adding in his soft tide of hair and his refined light-brown stubbles, Professor Rose was an icon of a causally sophisticated Englishman.

"How do you do, Ariadna," he said softly with a subtle smile whose meanings could be endless.

"N-not bad," she stammered and internally flinched at the sloppy reply.

'Am I that drunk...? Thank goodness for the water I had,' thought she.

Mr. Rose simply stood there, awaiting who-knows-what, looking at the red-haired and red-faced girl with amusement.

"So... you have a liking for jazz?" asked Ariadna lamely.

Professor Rose laughed quietly. Ariadna's attention immediately tuned in on that sound; it was the first time she has ever heard it, and, in her intoxicated state, the voice was as refreshing as dive in a freshly thawed snow lagoon.

"Ay, I have a soft spot for it, so to speak. Now I have a query of my own," he said, entertained through-and-through, "you were not the one to order me that pint."

Ariadna felt caught in the act. "That is no query."

"I suppose it is not," nodded Rose, his smile never diminishing. "It was simply difficult to have foregone."

"How so?" asked Ariadna amazed.

"Had you been the one to buy me the drink, you would have invited me to sit."

Ariadna blushed a deep shade of scarlet, seeing his smile and hearing his indicative words. She gestured at the sit beside hers wordlessly, too self-conscious to pronounce so much as a syllable. The feeling subsided ever-so slightly when he took her upon her invitation.

"Who has accompanied you here then?" asked Mr. Rose delicately. "Sienna would be my guess."

"Dizzying me with your clever deductions after I've had my fair share of drinks is not very gentleman-like," smiled Ariadna teasingly, causing the professor to snicker. "How'd you guess?"

"Who else would consider delivering me a drink on your behalf?" he asked rhetorically. "How many drinks have you had?"

Ariadna shrugged and let her head roll onto her shoulder. "No few; more than I'm used to."

"More than you ought to," declared Professor Rose in a quiet, displeased tone.

Ariadna frowned but then chuckled. "Well, f'you know so much, you should know I've had emotionally consuming days lately - can you guess whose fault it is?"

Professor Rose's annoyance grew intense yet cold; his green eyes were jagged.

"If it is me you charge of for your state, Ariadna, you might yet find you overstep," he quietly said, his voice like iceberg cracking.

"Ohhh it was just a tease," Ariadna giggled again and leaned in his direction. "What would you do anyway? We're just talking."

Rose glared at her for a moment longer, then he stood and graciously (as if unable to help himself from having grace) extended his hand to Ariadna. "Accompany me, Ariadna."

"What!" she gasped in surprised. "No, I can't dance with you!"

Her professor smiled despite himself. "And are you prepared to leave this establishment with me?"

"Oh," she mumbled, rethinking her response, "well, I can't leave - Sienna is here with me - and she mustn't see me leaving with you!"

He gave a short laugh, yet his eyes remained emerald ice blocks. "Somehow, I imagine your absence will not be noted, if you do not mind me saying so."

Ariadna followed his gaze, and, to her astonishment, she realised it was Sienna who was pushing brick-built Drew to the wall for an eager spit-swapping; the little rascal had to rise to her toes to reach his face, but the man was - there is no other way to put it - cornered. Ariadna had to titter at that (and she doubted she would have reacted differently had she been sober).

His words echoed back to her mind, and she turned to him. "This is such a murderous thing to say, Professor Rose."

"I admit, I have not noticed it when I said it," he nodded and then smirked. "I should say, I am extremely disappointed with how easy Sienna has made it for me!" he was quick to raise his hand and soften his speech. "No, Ariadna, I swear I am not at your table for a nefarious purpose. But I hope you now see why I disapprove of how vulnerable you now are, besides your senses and on your own.

"Now come," insisted Professor Rose, "let us leave this institution and its alcohol behind."

Ariadna allowed Rose to guide her by her elbow to her feet and out the pub while she locked her attention on sprightly Sienna - living a lil'. Sienna wasn't wrong; it did seem pleasant doing so.

It took being led up to a taxi for the realisation to dawn - Rose has had his arms around her, supporting her as she stumbled on.

Ariadna felt her tummy grow warmer by something much more potent than liquor, and she eyed up to rest her stare on the visage of Rose. The visage of a rose.

"My Gosh, are you divine," she sighed faintly. She only realised she had pronounced it aloud when he grinned, much more warmly on this occasion, though kept forward-facing their walk and his gaze.

She grudgingly permitted him to disentangle his arms from her body as he supported her into the rear sit - yet was over the moon when he skidded into the seat next to hers. She noticed his hand reaching around her and instantly cuddled close under it, entirely content.

Rose chuckled with surprise, and whispered softly in her ear, "I must fasten your buckle, first, Ariadna."

She sulked and slowly disentangled him. "But cuddle after, okay?"

He smiled, his cool stiffness molten despite his intentions, leaving faint amusement but mostly tenderness. At his smile, Ariadna straighten in her sit enough for him to stretch the strap across her chest; it was resting on her bosom, so she adjusted it to be cradled between her breasts, then she leaned sideways into Mr. Rose's lap, her eyes partially closed, and an easy smile decorates her lips.

"Drive slowly, if you please," said Rose politely to the driver. "She had had a stale drink tonight."

"A'ight, just use the bags in the chair pocket if it goes up."

"I promise we would."

Ariadna was confused at his words, though she wanted to make sure it wasn't the alcohol doing the thinking.

"I'm feeling fine, actually," she whispered.

Rose pressed her more tightly into him. "And does this feel fine?"

Ariadna nodded resolutely.

"Then enjoy the ride, Flower."

She was uncertain whether it was her peculiar imagination conjuring the words he uttered, but his explanation cleared her confusion and nearly overflowed her heart and stomach with beautiful warmth. She was happy to prolong her time in his lap.

Ariadna smiled widely against his shirt and held tightly onto Rose, and so did he; only then did Ariadna process she was in fact beaming into a jacket, and that she herself was wrapped in her coat - she must have been more steaming than she assessed.

She felt him shifting under her, and then felt his chills-inducing breath on her ear: "you look so gorgeous and delicious at once; I could spend the rest of the night either watching the art of your body, or feasting on it."

Ariadna shivered to the core and clutched his ribs in her palms. "I think I know which I prefer."

With her head pressed to his chest, she could hear his voice as near-purr.

"We will see, Flower."

It was dark when she woke up at last. Neither moon nor stars gleamed, no more than a faint halo of streetlights through the semi-translucent window curtain.

She coughed; her throat felt dry.

"Ariadna."

She lifted her eyes and for a moment was scared at her slightly blurred vision - then realised her spectacles were put away, and she donned them. Even through the clouds in her mind she was capable of recognising Professor Rose sitting on a chair at her bedside.

"How do you feel, Ariadna?" he asked, his voice softer than duckling plume.

"Just thirsty," she croaked, then coughed again.

He handed her a glass of water with ice she did not notice before then, and she gulped it nippily; the water cooled her and somewhat cleared her mind.

"What time is it?" She blinked slightly to find the clock which should have been on the wall.

"Saturday morning soon," he replied calmly.

She could not find the wall clock. "Where--where am I?"

"Do you not remember? I brought you to my flat," her heart started beating faster as his stern voice evoked some of last night's ('Or is it still it?') events. "You were irresponsibly intoxicated, and I realised I might be compelled to handle you as a gentleman never should to recover your keys. This was the better alternative.

"Are you certain you are not hung-over?"

Ariadna shook her head, still feeling flustered though excitement was glowing inside her. "I feel fine, but... what are you doing, sitting over there?"

The iconic amused grin returned to the face of Mr. Rose. "I told you in the taxi, I could spend the night either observing the artwork you are or feasting on you - and, though I have my vices, I have never been one for endocannibalism."

Ariadna's mind must have grown more alert, for at these words she flushed instantly, her lower tummy at once feeling warm as though she drank a smouldering cupper of passion.

"You... you gave up sleeping... to watch me while I do?" she asked slowly in a charged voice. She knew she was meant to feel disturbed, yet her feelings were of the exact opposite nature.

"Well... that, and you also occupy the sole bed," he smiled, his eyes glinting green with no light to touch them.

"What! Don't be absurd, this is your bed - get in!" she felt ashamed to have deprived him of rest.

"Before making up your mind on the matter, I suggest you look down," he said with a knowing grin.

Ariadna realised immediately what he meant: the thick blanket was resting under her axillae, so it was pressing hard on her prominent breast - her bare prominent breast.

"Did you--?"

"Certainly not," said Professor Rose severely, then smiled widely. "The room feels awfully hot, it would seem. I tried explaining it is merely the alcohol, yet you insisted that-"

"- I always sleep naked," completed Ariadna, her blush blooming once more. Rose affirmed with no more than a smirk.

"I should have liked to testify my resolve proved sufficient for me to avert my eyes, though I am further resolved to speak only truth," he added with a grave nod which his knowing grin annulled.

"Oh," mumbled she, warmth flowering in her abdomen, too. "Well, then you may as well crawl into bed with me."

Mr. Rose smiled and got up to his feet. While he unbuttoned his shirt, Ariadna slid towards the wall the bed pressed against, making him space. Looking at his bare chest plate, Ariadna first noticed that while he was lean, he was not slender: his chest was toned, scarcely covered by blonde bodily hair to her surprise, and his abdomen muscles were well-defined, revealing a proper six-pack and V-shaped crease pointing under his belt. His arms were no twigs either - while his muscles were not protruding, it was evident he is a regular trainer, capable of lifting a few dozen pounds, though he does not overly exhort himself.

Professor Rose leaned forward to step into bed, but Ariadna impulsively raised a hand.

Nodding at him, she said, "I was thinking... since you already got more than a glimpse of me..."

Her heart was a brass drum, beating loudly at her daring request. The risk was high - his choice could decide their relationship and future one way or the other.

Then, Professor Rose smiled and stood erect; through his underwear, she could see the rigid silhouette of his member, manifestly erect too. Boiling lava swirled underneath her naval.

"On two conditions," announced Rose in a low, vibrating voice.

Ariadna lifted herself from the mattress, supported on her elbow to better return his gaze. "Anything."

Mr. Rose slowly arched forward in an eerie manner. "The first, is that you shall never forget to properly address me."

His green eyes were feverous and severe, a pair of scalding cauldrons filled with virulent venom. Ariadna gulped and recoiled into herself.

"Yes, Sir," she said in a small, pleading voice. "Anything you say, Sir."

He nodded firmly and straightened up. "My second condition is that you will be the one to remove my last piece of clothing."

Ariadna didn't know why she recoiled. Rather, she knew why she was reserved, yet she did not expect feeling so after telling the man whom she has been adoring to peel off his loincloth.

He noticed her expression.

"Have you second thoughts?" he asked gently. Ariadna was relieved to hear no solicitation on his part.

"None, Sir," she reassured him, then clarified with insecurity, "it is just... I've never touched another man this way."

She saw the comprehension of the situation dawning on Professor Rose's face, and she was further relieved to see no doubt, worry, or pity follow his insight.

"But I understand that it is something you wish to experience," he noted, unquestioning.

Ariadna nodded without another moment of uncertainty.

"And, if I were to judge by you repeatedly rejecting your admirers at the pub, this is an experience you wish to undergo with me."

Ariadna nodded more decisively. She paused for a second and thought, 'How did he know?'

"Then that is all we will do this night - explore, test each other's arousal and limits. I do not deny you fascinate me as no other woman has, but I will assure you this: should you keep an open mind, I will introduce you to nothing but pleasure."

Slowly but clearly Ariadna nodded a third time. Her heartbeat was accelerating, dampening her groin; her blood was thick with arousal which could not be ignored.

"Say it, Ariadna, devote yourself to me," he pressed.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered in a husky voice, "I trust you. Show me, please."

"Come to me," he ordered quietly, his voice charged and meaningful, and Ariadna knew what should happen next. Her heart was racing as she motioned slowly under the covers, her body ready to be unveiled to him.

Her rosy nipples rubbed against the cotton fabric as Ariadna glided to sit on her heels. The blanket fell on her lap and her breasts were on full-display, the dark-red knots hard and vibrant against the fair tone of her round mounds.

Her chest was heaving hard, as if attempting to win her Sir's attention. As they absorbed her figure and read her earnest desire, his eyes were glimmering bright, as if a light source by their own right. Professor Rose then extended an inviting hand, and Ariadna accepted it.

Her professor watched intensely though patiently. She rose to her knees, allowing the wrap to slide and uncover the orange coating of pubic hair, then fully reveal her flower to Rose.

She waded through the sheets to him, and he caught her eye, then grasped her face as he leaned needily into her, seeking the plump petals or her mouth. Fully willing, needing, she returned his kiss. Professor Rose held her head tilted back as his lips locked on hers, their tongues reuniting with each other in bliss. Ariadna reached up to stroke her lover's face, his stubbles scratching against her palm, and she inhaled deeply, absorbing his intoxicating aroma; with her other hand she fondled her tits, her breath shivering with the overpowering lust for the man handling her at will.

He nibbled hungrily on her lower lip then broke the kiss, and Ariadna found she cannot furl open her eyelids, for his breath on her ear sent tremors to rock her core:

"Take it out, Flower."

Ariadna nodded with closed eyes, unable to speak. She unravelled her eyelids to meet his gaze - voracious sapphires engaging smouldering emeralds - and bit her lip while reaching her hands forward, not even considering diverting her gaze from his, not that she could, seeing as Gerard Rose gripped her face steadily.

Sliding his boxer briefs down his thighs, Ariadna could feel something rigid putting on resistance, which was relieved when it sprung free from its nest. Easing his steadfast clasp, Rose cradled her face and straightened his stance, enabling Ariadna's eyes to bask in the trophy her hands pried free.

She was unable to contain a gasp.

Upon grasping the measure of his shaft, nervousness began creeping in Ariadna's stomach - it was as thick as a tube, and the curved shaft stood sufficiently long as to almost scratch against her belly from inside, she guessed.

"Do not fret, Flower," said Rose quietly, his enticing voice drawing her eyes to his, "we will not go as far tonight."

Ariadna bit her lip; his unshakable tone caused her own tremor to fade away. She met his eyes and nodded with a slight smile. "You know my mind so well that you know my fears?"

Rose smiled and leaned closer again, holding her face in his hand. "It is my responsibility to know you as good as that. You are mine, after all."

His scent and the flame in his eyes sterilised her mind from doubt and she erected her back to kiss him once more.

"Fuck, you are sexy..."

His soft grunt sent electric waves vibrating through her body. It was not simply his tone, nor his dominating, measured manner, it was that she could feel his arousal and fire purr through his voice. Ariadna knew then she wants to satisfy them.

She reached with no second thought to his immense member and grasped it with one hand. Her heart mimicked Rose by jerking at the act. Then, she reached with another, bringing her eyes to it as well. Her heart was pounding hard when her fingers enwrapped his cock, feeling the muscles and veins bulging and the rigidness under the skin.

"Ughhh!" Mr. Rose groaned hard, and she felt compelled to see his face: his eyes rolled, he threw his head backwards, and his hand grabbed her chili-coloured hair, as if to steady himself. When he met her eyes again, there was a feverous blaze in their convoluted depths.

Her hands began to move gently up-and-down his lengthy tool, rubbing against the skin. Ariadna could feel his body shiver when her palms tickled the head of his dick, and she tried it again - then spotted his breath accelerating.

"Grip it tighter now," he instructed through his breath.

She obeyed.

"Perfect. Now, do not stop."

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

Rose started breathing more-and-more loudly. "Fuck, your touch feels sensational on my cock."

"It feels so sensual to touch it, Sir."

Professor Rose slid his thumb from Ariadna's cheek, fondling both her ripe lips, and they instinctively popped apart, her breath caressing his thumb.

"About as sensual as it would feel between your lips."

Ariadna gasped quietly, partially shocked, partially aroused. His brazen words roused in her lustful mind new possibilities, yet likewise a measure of her former nervousness.

She was not about to let it stop her.

Ariadna nodded slowly, allowing Rose's finger to linger on her petals. "Anything for you, Sir."

At her words, Professor Rose let his hand sneak from her face to her hair, not pulling, simply resting there encouragingly. She submitted to his reassuring gesture and slower than slowly began leaning forward, feeling her heart step up as she did. Rose's prick was twitching instinctively in her hands, surging with anticipation.

She froze few inches apart from his raging erection. "How--how should I put it in my mouth?"

"Begin with feeling my cock with kisses and long licks." His voice was as thick as tar. "Approach it from its sides, from below, then allow it to slip into your mouth. I shall guide you thereafter.

"And one more thing," he said, his tone drawing her attention, "you are to look up to my eyes at all times - even if tears start running down your eyes."

Ariadna felt worried by the possibility that she would cry but nodded obediently. Trying to not overly think matters, she leaned forward and licked the tip of Mr. Rose's shaft.

It was as soft and tender as she had expected it to be, and the taste did not put her off as she feared it to be. She was delighted when she heard her professor let out a soft, guttural groan. She licked it again, slowly, savouring the feeling, then planted a kiss on the member's head. It involuntary jerked.

Next thing she knew, Professor Rose was grasping her face, tilting it upwards. Leaning close to her, looking deep into her gaping, beautiful irises, he whispered, "Look into my eyes, Flower. I want you to see in your eyes what my body stirs in yours, and I want you to see how you make your Sir react."

She nodded wide-eyed as much as she could with and mumbled, lustful and innocent, "Yes, Sir, I promise."

Rose released her face, and she slowly shifted forward and lower while making sure her eyes were up directed to meet his. Extending her tongue, Ariadna caressed with delicate strokes his rigid cock around its middle, feeling thin skin over iron-locked muscles and veins. The stroke of her tongue caused it to tense even more; she glanced at it momentarily before returning her eyes to her Sir's. Her heart was elated at his gaze, dripping amorous emerald down her eyes.

Her red curls fell onto her face and his hand was instantly there, picking it out his eyesight, fastening the mass of her soft curls in a single, firm fist. And fasten was right: Ariadna felt as though she was put in restraint. She blushed and allowed her tongue to touch more of her sir's skin, squeezing the flexible tastebuds against his wood-like shaft.

Her tongue was drying, and she applied saliva unto the muscular pole; Rose's eyes were emanating pleasure - and she was sure hers were, too, for the taste was... stimulating. She found herself taking more-and-more of it in her mouth as she smooched and licked its sides. Then she positioned herself in front of it, fixed an immobile stare into her sir's eyes, and let her mouth sink unto it.

Rose moaned softly, and Ariadna did too. She was surprised at the primal pleasure the act affected her with; sucking the head of his cock felt familiar, as a girl sucking lollipop, only her reward wasn't sweet caramel, but sweet-and-savoury flavour of testosterone and of another thing, which was exclusively her Sir's. That, accompanied by his sounds and sight of carnal gratification, sent her buzzing.

She was sucking harder and faster.

"Fuck, your mouth is so soft."

His commanding words, commending her effort, made her euphoric, fanning her desire. Ariadna sucked harder.

"Mngh! Take it deeper, babygirl."

'Deeper?' she wondered, but did as he asked, taking it deeper until she felt her uvula tingle; she cleared her throat, then resumed her sucking.

"Down my dick as deep as it was," instructed Rose, excited yet patient. "Drooling in excess would ease taking it in. Try to keep breathing."

"I am not sure I can..." whispered Ariadna and swallowed the taste.

"Try, Flower," her sir urged, his eyes hot yet restrained, "if you indeed cannot, keep sucking as you did."

Ariadna hesitated for a second, then nodded: "Yes, Sir."

She descended unto the soft shaft's tip, then let the rest slither along her tongue.

"Slobber, Ariadna," reminded her Rose. She obeyed.

"Even more, until it drips."

"I, um--"

"Hand."

Confused, Ariadna presented her hand. Rose turned her palm upwards, gave it a peck, then let drool drivel and pool in it.

"Continue," he directed, grinning by Ariadna's disbelief.

She did as was instructed, and this time, her sir's cock glided with increased ease down her mouth; he was right, her throat was more flexible and less facile in accepting the significant measure of his member. She reminded herself to keep breathing.

Rose groaned stridently, and she realised he could feel the head of his dick reaching her throat's entry. His voice made her even more... horny, and she slowly glided her sir's shaft in and out of her orifice, making sure to salivate as much as she could, although the effort was straining her jaw and mildly irritating the back of her throat. She understood then why Professor Rose told her not to divert her eyes even if they tear - moisture was beginning to pool and blur her vision, yet she was too aroused by the attack on her senses to mind. She blinked quickly while her lips were retracting and took her sir's member back down to her throat, willingly giving in to his insisting grip of her hair, sucking and drooling as she did.

Rose grunted. "I am close, baby. I want to cum in your mouth."

Nervousness melded with arousal fluttered in her belly.

"Yes, Sir, finish wherever you want."

He sighed, delighted by her submission.

"Suck deep, but not too hard. Do not stop. Mind your teeth."

Ariadna promptly complied, sucking hard, as though forcing thick milkshake up a straw. The analogy was striking in her mind as it emerged, and she snickered once before swallowing his member, remembering to breath as she did.

"Ugh! Baby, you are making me cum..." shallow breath. "Fuck, don't stop, Flower, I want to fill your mouth up with my cum."

"Please, Sir," she gasped. She found she really does crave it; the very thought caused her belly to gush lava, and her clit to swell. She rubbed it, easing the tingle and fanning her desire.

Words failed in Rose's mouth then: "Mngh! Ah, fuck... oh, f--ARGH!"

She knew what was coming - and then it was him: spurt-by-spurt, hot, rich liquid streamed in spurts into her mouth, welling comfortably on her tongue, its taste an extract of her Sir's dick's flavour.

Rose was breathing heavily, but the seemingly exhausted man pulled her up to her knees to face him.

"Mmmm!" Ariadna mumbled through clenched lips as he leaned towards her.

"Ah," chuckled Rose, still breathing hard, "what do you wish to do with my sperm, Flower? Spit it into a bin?"

Ariadna was stuck sitting on her ankles for a moment as she understood she has an alternative. Weighing this in her head, she decided the flavour is not displeasing, and she swallowed with two gulps the warm, gooey substance.

"Show me your mouth, Ariadna."

She opened wide for him to see.

"Say 'ah'," he grinned.

She smiled with her mouth open and stuck out her tongue to show him better. Ropes of cum-and-drool concoction coupled her palate and tongue. Rose hungrily attacked her mouth with his. They fervently kissed, their tongues fondling and grazing each other's, and Ariadna, whose belly and clit were fiery still, felt herself driven by her urges and naught else.

Her hands were all over Rose's body, feeling his chest, as she has always yearned, and pinning his back with her nails as she tightened him closer to her, crushing her own chest against his lower torso.

"You may touch everything you desire to, Ariadna," he breathed softly. "I am dedicated to you as much as you belong to me."

Ariadna needed no further encouragements. As if on their own, her hands slipped to fondle his stocky buttocks, and to fasten his waist unto hers, sensing his still-girthy cock pressed against her toned abdomen. Rose's hum-like chuckle shifted into delighted sigh while they kissed as her nails grazed the short hairs on the back of his head and neck. He was not idle, either, his arms encompassing her entire figure with his embrace, and his hands sliding all across her back, as well as slithering under Ariadna's curls to touch her head and its back.

As the seconds passed and their breaths accelerated, Rose's hand repositioned, clutching her throat, while his other was firm on her globular tits. Ariadna found her hips were shifting on their own in wavelike patterns, rubbing her pelvis and loin across her sir's thigh, a motion which caused him to remove his hand from her breasts to spank her buttock - causing Ariadna to squeal into his mouth - squeezing it while tugging on her hips, pinning them unto his, which as a result matched Ariadna's rolling motion.

"AH!" yelped Ariadna as once again she was manhandled by her professor upon his whim: grabbing her by her bottom, he lifted her in the air so that she was forced to hastily clasp his waist with her legs. Not a bad position, as Ariadna quickly realised; regrettably, though, Rose was lowering her to the bed, on her back this time.

"Unfasten your legs, Flower," he whispered, his aroma dazzling still, "it is time for me to repay the pleasure you have given me."

Her heart hastened even more, somehow. Nervously, slowly, Ariadna untangled her ankles and placed her feet soundly on the mattress.

"Mmm..." mumbled her sir, "your blush is my blessing."

He grinned as she blushed deeper-still (of course), then began to kiss her. He lingered for a short while at her lips, though, deliberately descending with his own to kiss her neck and lightly suck at its lively pulse.

"Ah..." exhaled Ariadna. She closed her eyes, cradling her professor's head while he was paying attention to her own body. The manner in which he kissed her neck caused her to shiver.

"I intend leaving my mark on you, Flower."

She blinked her eyes open at his whisper. So engrossed was she in the sensations that it took her a moment to comprehend his words. When she did, Ariadna blushed, released a tiny "uh!" and then nodded, her innocent eyes meeting Rose's.

"Good girl." She was stirred by the words, then furthermore by his intensified sucking of her neck. It was soon aching, as though overly flushed.

"There," murmured Rose hoarsely, "now all will know you belong to your Sir."

Ariadna's tummy filled with butterflies, and her features further grew in vibrance. "I am, Sir, only yours."

He smiled hungrily and repeated, "Good girl."

Ariadna mirrored his smile, then moaned as his mouth preyed on her nipple for the first time. Her buds hardened and grew sensitive.

"Gently!" she implored softly. He stopped.

"Do I hurt you?"

She shook her head with clenched eyebrows.

"Then trust me, babygirl, I will never let any harm come to you. Smooth your forehead, Ariadna," he directed and playfully ironed its wrinkles. "Release your tension and enjoy the sensitivity instead. I promise it will be pleasurable."

Ariadna breathed, steadied by the confidence of his voice and green eyes, and tried to re-realise that she is being touched by the man she has been craving all the while. She nodded, said "I trust you, Sir," and he sank his lips unto her buds a second time.

Ariadna managed to hold off the nervousness long enough for a separate feeling to seize her attention.

"Uhh..." she moaned, "oh, my..." then her voice drifted. 'He is always right.'

It was not sensitivity at all, it was voltage, charging her nerves with amorous desire. Her breath paced up as she felt this electrical reaction extend down her body: along her spine, charging her abdomen, and swelling her pussy. She whined when he nibbled on the nipple, but then realised that even this is the sweetest prickle. Her chest heaved hard, pressing her nipples tighter against his lips, tongue, and teeth. Her hips were slightly shifting again under her Sir's weight. Her fingers were crawling through Rose's chestnut hair, tightening his mouth's grip.

"Ughhh!" was her wordless protest when Professor Rose's lips withdrew to advance to her abdomen. Ariadna glanced down to scold the premature descent of his lips, then let her spinning head drop with nothing said. She felt his amused breath on her skin, and he continued kissing unhurriedly in downward trajectory... slowly progressing passed her naval.

The butterflies Ariadna felt became hornets then.

His lips were hovering lazily so near to her red pubes his breath rustled them as he crossed over. Rose was depositing feathery pecks, softer than fallen petals. Ariadna lifted herself onto her elbows, her breath shaky, and she looked while her Sir's mouth suspended over her pussy. His eyes were boring back into hers. Warm breath sipped through her labia majora. It was as though her moisture were gasoline and her professor's breath the heat which could spark it aflame - her pussy was dripping searing lust extract. She could feel it.

Then her professor skipped sideways with his mouth and began to kiss down her right thigh. Ariadna was still breathing fast, enjoying his touch, yet felt clueless. 'Why didn't he... kiss me?'

Deciding to take pleasure at that moment, Ariadna laid back again and allowed Rose to manipulate her leg, to lift it higher so to kiss up again, but at the back of her thigh.

Professor Rose's face was levelled again with her pussy. She shot back up to her elbows, her legs trembling with newfound anticipation, scorching away her former nervous--

"Sir!" she protested in audibly shaking moan as his mouth diverted to the opposite thigh.

"Yes, Ariadna?" his voice was graciousness epitomised.

"Why don't you...? You know..." she pouted, feeling silly at her insecurity and frustration.

"Yes, Miss Hayes?" he probed between delicate kisses in all but natural worry.

"... KISS me!"

"It was my understanding I was fulfilling my teaching charges to the letter," he wondered and raised impeccably concerned eyes. "Is my student feeling I neglect an area under my responsibility?"

She was beginning to understand what manner of talking he was goading out of her, poking at her innocence.

His eyes were penetrating as they awaited the answer.

"My pussy, Sir."

She's never called it that before.

"What about your pussy, Miss Hayes?"

"It needs attention - your attention, Sir."

"What sort of attention does your pussy require, Ariadna?"

"I... I am not sure, Sir; that's the problem. I need my Sir to show me what I need."

Professor Rose dropped any residues of façade, his voice then intense. "Ask me then, Ariadna. Plead to your Sir to treat you how you desire."

"Please, Sir," Ariadna quickly said, "please kiss my pussy. Please lick it and... and make me cum. I need you to show me, to teach me. Only you can - you're the only one I want.

"Please, Sir, I beg you to."

Professor Rose chuckled mischievously, his warm intoxicating breath caressing her tender-most part.

"Such a good girl, Miss Hayes."

The moment Rose brushed his tongue across her labia she inhaled sharply, feeling odd. Then, her professor extended his tongue and gently, curiously licked her tender skin, shifting slightly her outer lips as he kissed and licked. Ariadna's breath shivered; the sensation was so strange, intrusive almost, yet it was tickling her too, gradually sharpening her sensitivity. More moisture was seeping, like warm, aromatic dew. Her sir noticed and licked it, savouring its distinct flavour whilst further dampening her pussy. The act caused the heat in her abdomen to build up, her pulse to pound, and her vulva to blossom, so its petals withdrew to reveal the rosy, droplet-coated stigma.

The professor's tongue began to explore deeper, and, respectively, the sensation grew more profound. At first it was only the curious tip of his tongue, sampling the wetness from her labia minora, but soon more of its surface was thrashing against the delicate core of her flower.

Ariadna inhaled and surprised herself when an involuntary moan escaped her lips. Her pussy was growing soaked, she could feel it, and her Sir was nipping her flower's nectar with unabashed thirst. Falling off her elbows, Ariadna began touching her nipples, her breath and heartbeat picking up pace as more-and-more boiling fluids continued to flow. Her breath was quivery.

Rose abruptly separated himself from her labia and their eyes locked as he swallowed. Then, very intentionally, he lowered his tongue on her clit.

"AH!" yelped Ariadna, "Oh my Gosh... oh my...!"

Ariadna's head fell back, her body weak and trembling by the press of her Sir's tongue on her bud. His lips locked unto it and his tongue merely flicked it, but Ariadna was helpless in the face of it. She never touched herself this way, and she knew she never could - can she? Her mind was blanking with all knowledge or thought, apart from basking in the creaming of Gerard Rose's tongue, which with every brush introduced her to novel measures of pleasure she could never guess existed. God, even his bristles' graze was injecting her with desire!

Magma boiled underneath her naval, the hornets in her tummy were now fighter jets, overpowering surges of voltage were coursing throughout. In some barren part of her mind, she realised her Sir's stubbles are no longer prickly - too drenched were they with the lava she was pouring.

That same barely perceptive part of her mind was astounded by her very reactions.

"Mmmm!" moaned Ariadna. "AHH!" she cried, clutching the sheets, her legs wriggling uncontrollably; she could barely catch her breath, and she consistently moaned. Her hands were alternately grasping the sheets - as if to keep herself from leaping - and seizing her tits, helplessly attempting to catch her breath but intensifying the sensation instead. Her eyes were also rolling and opening to meet the powerful gaze of her Sir, as he was batting his tongue at the lightning rod which was her clit while pinning her with his hands in place, so to not escape his insistent tongue amid the frenzied writhing. The magma in her stomach was raging while growing thick as oil; she was nearing her limit.

"Sir...!" she gasped. "Sir, I'm--"

"I know, Flower," Rose hissed, his thumb rubbing her clit momentarily, driving her crazy. "Go ahead and cum for your Sir, let all go."

"Oh, Sir!" cried Ariadna as his tongue returned to her pussy with renewed vigour. She whimpered, totally immersed in her bodily delight, and her hand darted to between her legs. There, her fingers slipped into her professor's hair and clasped his mouth to her pussy. Her other hand crashed against her breast, pinching her nipple to send shocks down to her needy, surcharged pussy.

"I'm... UH! Sir! Ohhh...!" - Ariadna respired, her legs cranking up and tightening around his face - "Ahh! Oh GOSH... oh, my... MNGH‼!" - she whimpered, and her hand banged on the mattress - "Sir I'm cumming! Oh, mngh! AHHH!"

Her legs automatically clinched, her fingers clasped her sir's hairs, then everything clenched - and released... and Ariadna came as she never has before, practically squealing while magma turned to lava, spewing and gushing thick, fervent sap from her pussy to Professor Rose's tongue. Caged under the violent grip of her thighs and hand, Rose did not pull back but dove in, gulping Ariadna's fluids, savouring the extract of her own lust.

At last, the ardour tide left Ariadna limp, and she broke her legs' grip and sat up - face flushed, exertion tears staining it, her hair all-tangled - to pull Rose to her, devouring his mouth with hers - and he matched her desire, restraining his girl by her hair, and pulling her tight while tugging her closer by her waist... then he pushed her hard back to the mattress.

"Wha-AH-AH-AHHHH!" cried Ariadna, her back arching, as her Sir's mouth resumed to feast on her pussy.

She never knew she could feel as much desire, as much lust as she did then. Wave-by-wave, hot surges crashed in an all-encompassing sensation of incessant pleasure. She could perceive that the moans, cries, and whimpers - voices she'd never heard one make - she sounded herself.

"Stop, stop..." she gasped and panted when her pussy grew too sensitive and she pulled him up, to her. Rose complied, his face flushed and drenched, too (though much more self-content), and laid at her side, flipping Ariadna to face him and leaving their legs entangled. Ariadna kissed Rose's collarbone between breaths.

"What do you think?" Asked Rose conversationally.

Ariadna laughed and muttered, "Think...?"

Rose laughed smugly and kissed her. Ariadna loved their tongues' taste; her legs hugged his tighter.

"What do you feel?" he asked softly.

"I dunno," mumbled Ariadna earnestly, "I feel... so much. My senses are supercharged."

Rose chuckled then kissed Ariadna again, more gently then. "Rest, Ariadna."

She did feel tired - but more so, she felt immense contentment and peace. His fragrance, exhilarating so far, had then a calming effect on her instead. Few premature sunbeams sneaked through curtain. Ariadna nuzzled closer into him, and he embraced her more tightly in turn, covering Ariadna with the blanket.

"Sleep, Ariadna," she thought he whispered as she was drifting asleep. "There will be more to feel another time."

... But she was at once disturbed then: her later, weekend alarm chimed the Beatles' "Here Comes the Sun."

"Ugh..." she groaned, "is it THAT late?"

"What is it?"

"I have to get back home," she replied with a pout.

"Why rush?" he asked, tightening her to him after dismissing her alarm.

Ariadna smiled against his chest and kissed it. "I have a cat to feed. Hmph."

"I like cats, they are exceedingly self-reliant," he said pointedly.

"Not as bratty kittens."

"Ah, I see."

They paused, immobile in one another's arms, then Ariadna let out a long, complaining groan, and began to unravel her legs and his arms against her will. Rose grinned but allowed her to crawl grudgingly out of bed. She wore back on the black lace bra and her blue blouse under her Sir's calm, attentive eyes. She slipped into her jeans and shoes, picked up her phone and purse, and stood there.

After a moment, Rose stood up slowly, still naked, picked up her earrings from the dresser, and handed them to her. She placed them in her purse then bore her eyes into his.

"I..." she stammered - then whispered: "I cannot even begin to describe..." she fell silent, then he kissed her, deeply and deliberately. She disconnected her lips from his then hugged him tight. "It was perfect."

Gerard Rose took her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilted her face upwards, pecked her lips again, and said, "It was, and you are too, Flower."

She smiled and blushed. "Thank you, Sir."

He smiled too, though more gracefully so. "Be on your way now, Ms. Hayes. I will be in touch," he said and winked.

Ariadna's blush deepened, and her Sir's smile widened in response. Inescapably aware of his nudity, Ariadna said her farewell and left for her flat, where Mr. Smittens was without a question knocking over pots and cups.

Part 4: The Flower's Truth

Ariadna woke up late that same Saturday afternoon feeling slow and well-rested. A sleepy smile crept up her face while she audibly stretched then yawned.

Suddenly, a cord of dread twanged through her: 'How long have I slept? Why wasn't I awoken by an alarm?!'

She grabbed her spectacles, sat up, snatched her phone from the shelf over the foot of her bed, then yelped in a start as it came to life with the alarm buzzing to Coldplay's "Don't Panic," appropriately. Ariadna laughed at herself, relieving her nerves; the phone indicated it was thirty minutes to five on a Saturday afternoon.

It was not all it indicated, though - several messages from this morning, but one more recent than the rest was expecting her at the top...

>Hello, Ariadna. Slept well, I hope?

Reading the message expunged all other thought in her head. Even before reading "Sir" over the message's content she knew it was from Rose - she was texting with no one else who uses punctuation or standardised spelling for texts.

Her heart raced and she blushed when yesterday's events rushed back. She wanted to text him back at once and tell him - what? Again, the mere thought of him baffled her, causing her to question every formerly plausible decision.

'He had his tongue on you just hours ago - text him, you dolt!' she reproached herself.

Her fingers hovered over the digital keyboard but pressed nothing. The feeble reaction to the situation reminded her of when she sat to draft her poem. Her life-altering poem. She smiled nervously when it sank that writing back a message for the man whom she adores is far harder than authoring an erotic poem about him.

When eventually the screen dimmed on its own, Ariadna slowly put away her phone. 'Maybe it's better anyway to first go on the jog I missed this morning.'

Knowing full well that a sense of responsibility or physical mindedness have had little to do with her sudden motivation, she was feeling slightly guilty at ghosting Professor Rose's message. Nevertheless, she tied her hair in a ponytail, then she pulled on a training bra and cotton thong, put a pink-and-white running shirt zipped up to a high collar, as well as a pair of white dry-fit shorts which descended two or three inches past her bottom, then slipped into her old trainers.

While she ran in the slow drizzle, she was musing about the ever-so relaxing effects of the run - wishing she was experiencing them this time too.

When the wind started to pick up speed, carrying a remote crack of thunder, Ariadna decided to call it a wrap and cut short her eight-mile trail. She finished at her building's doorway and tugged free her ponytail while tilting her face upwards, allowing the chilly raindrops to dilute with her warm sweat.

This simple, mundane action caused her skin to feel warmer, although the air was misty with cold: It invoked the memory of Professor Rose pulling her head backwards by the hair so he could suck at the pulse under the blush flowering on her neck. The mere image threw shivers through her spine. She bit her lip.

Ariadna could not help but laugh softly to herself while stroking her neck with eyes closed. 'Is that really all it takes?'

She unzipped the front of her collar and let water seep in the tight, clammy gap between her mounds. She smiled and stood there a bit longer, thinking of Rose, then lowered her face slowly and stepped inside. She skipped up the stairwell to her flat, pushed the fireproof door of her floor in a swift motion - then yelped and recoiled in surprise.

Her heart began to race before he even spun to face her, recognising his tweed jacket. When he did, his eyes grew wide - grottos over singing, green surfs. He then smiled, his look easing, and he sank his gaze in the heavens reflected in hers. Her knees felt wabbly, though they were in nimble shape moments ago, passed the six-mile jog and the flight of stairs.

'I must be summoning him with my thoughts! There is no other explanation to why he is here!'

"Hello, Ariadna. Slept well, I hope?" said Professor Rose with a teasing undertone to his voice.

"H--hi!" she found herself stammer a bit too loudly. "I did, thank you."

'Ugh, such a pathetic response. And - oh, is he dashing!'

"Really? Has there been nothing distracting you? This is comforting," he smiled, the teasing now brought to the spotlight. "I was worried, since you did not reply to my gentlemanly greeting, that I may have done something to distress you rather than satisfy."

Ariadna could feel her face and neck washed with all the deepest shades of sunset. She knew then there was no real trace of self-doubt on his part, regarding her failure to reply.

"You can see when I view your texts," she recognised sheepishly, and she also understood the teasing undertone of his greeting - he recited his own text from this morning.

Professor Rose took one long step forward and put his hand under her chin, making her shamed, red complexion visible to his eyes; she was surprised to spot a hidden flame behind them.

"Incredulously delicious," whispered Rose.

Ariadna stood there, held by him while they crossed stares, bathing in his gaze - amazed to recognise appreciation radiating through them; a blush of a separate rationale bloomed over her skin.

Rose then smiled politely and, to her regret, let his hand drop. "I texted earlier to offer you to join me for a cupper... and to further explore the manner we would like to be with each other."

Ariadna smiled, giddy and shy at once, remembering the request she made in his office a forever ago, it seemed.

"I would love to. Very much.

"I need to shower, though," she said and blinked at the thought, her voice steady and her delight evident through it, "would--would you care to come in and wait for me while I make myself decent? I... I could heat up a kettle on the cooker for tea, and I have mean homemade biscuits my ma sent me."

His hand was abruptly on the side of her face, his eyes boring into hers meaningfully.

Grounded by his abrupt intensity, several seconds passed before she corrected with a suddenly quivering voice, "S--sir,"

Rose again was smiling courteously, and he glided sideways with flawless grace to make way for her.

"After you, Flower."

Ariadna smiled broadly at the affectionate name he chose for her. Her tummy was making summersaults, and she pulled the keys out her running pouch while walking past him.

Holding the door for him, she was equally excited and nervous at having him at her flat, feeling both safer in her environment but vulnerable by exposing it to him; she deflected her doubts away as he strode inside, instantly filling the room with his silent, impressive presence. She looked at him for a moment too long for him not to notice she was staring, so she pretended to wipe away sweaty curls off her brow before leading him in with a slight pink hue on her face.

"Here we are," she said, gesturing at the kitchen/dining area, separated from the living room by a counter. "I'll just put the kettle on the stove, and pull a couple of mugs, and--"

"Ariadna."

She turned to his voice and discovered him much nearer than she'd expected, his courteous eyes catching hers effortlessly, so that she didn't take note to his intentions until his hands cradled her fair face and he bent for a pair of the softest of pecks. She was ready to either leap into his arms, or crumble to the ground - only he stopped then, looking at her red, confounded face with amusement and hunger.

"Take your time, Flower, I'll be waiting here," he promised. It was this inviting voice none could help but trust and be soothed by - and Ariadna was the least immune to its effect.

She breathed - it would have been a steadying breath had she wasn't inhaling his intoxicating scent - then smiled and nodded.

"I still wish to set the dishes before the shower, if you don't mind, Sir," she said, spotting his reaction to her address.

"Go on then, you little devil," he chuckled.

She smiled, then bobbed into the kitchen, filled a kettle with water and set a timer for the fire. She stretched to reach the top cabinet for a pair of cuppers, and when she picked them and got back to her feet, she was startled to be at once engulfed by Mr. Rose's arms.

He put the utilities out of her hands, placed them respectably on the counter, then brazenly grasped her rosy neck with one hand, while the other tightened her to him via her waist.

"Ahh--! Hmmm..."

Rose's demanding touch caused Ariadna to gasp, then she moaned to the warm, pleasuring sensation of his mouth descending like a vulture on the virgin-red of her lips. Ariadna's head was spinning. She was caught in a divine lip-lock with Rose, his enthralling aroma immersing her, his tongue exploring her own honeyed taste with no restrains, biting her lip every-now-and-then while her head tilted back by the pull of her hair, his hand groping her neck in the most erotic position imaginable... his rigid shaft was decisively slithering along the crack of her bum in a manner which aroused her arousal as nothing else could.

Her sole inhibition was the salty and oily feel of her own hair and skin. She knew not how she could think of it in such a moment, but she did.

Then his mouth detached from hers. Rose spun her to face him, his hands rested on her waists so that they were fastening her tightly to him, her heaving chest grazing against his.

"Do you have any sense of how sexy you are, Flower?"

The primal, coarse whisper directly into her ear was driving her proper mad, yet by being self-conscious of her smell, she has been inhibited from leaping into his lap to pull him.

"What is it, Ariadna? Do you wish to postpone this until after our conversation?"

"Not at all, Sir!" she said, breathing hard. "It's just... I stink," she resolved and laughed uncomfortably.

Mr. Rose, on the other hand, smiled slyly, brought his lips close to her ear and whispered in a voice which hardly moved the air.

"You will be sweaty all the same once I have had my way with you, Flower."

Ariadna's ears were smoking red; biting her lip, she knew not what to say.

Rose apparently wasn't expecting an answer, as he simply released his grip, stroked her cheek and her nearly-bleeding lower lip with his thumb, then stepped away, supporting the unsteady girl.

"Thanks... Sir..." she breathed in a hoarse voice.

"You are most welcome, Ariadna." Rose smiled oh-so smugly.

Once he's made sure she is capable of walking on her own, he set to the table and his eyes escorted Ariadna as she paced to the bathroom, unsteady by the force of his influence.

"I will be here if you need me, Flower."

Closing the door and standing to face her reflection, Ariadna first realised the reason for her professor's wide-eyed greeting and for his reduced self-control: the unzipped training shirt, accompanied by the tightness of the training bra, caused her breast to not only be visible, but to appear ever-so bounteous too, projecting out the zipper. Quite shocked by herself, she turned to examine her rear to realise her shorts climbed so high up her thighs, the edges of her small, spherical buttocks where visible when she stretched.

Tingling heat of flush began to climb up her cheeks when it dawned on her - 'this is precisely the reaction I've been hoping to trigger in Professor Rose!'

She was stunned and overly giddy by the fact that it was she who has made him react this way, the man she has wanted all along to be handled by, and more. The man she adores.

Standing naked under the shower head, Rose fully occupied her mind, and she couldn't help but to fondle and touch herself a little, yet made up her mind to hold, though his galvanising whisper was still ringing in her ears.

Emerging from the shower wearing only a towel and her glasses, Rose was sitting where she had left him, and his gaze once again accompanied her as she walked past him; she could feel it, and she made no effort to disguise her contentment.

Only while she was dressing in her room did she realise what he did suggest, and she froze.

I will be here if you need me.

'Christ, I am such a fool, and gosh do I need him...'

Disappointed with herself, she finished preparing in a rushed manner then hurried outside; the day was still early, yet she desired as much time as possible with Professor Rose.

To her surprise, she discovered the fire was put out, the teabags been added, and the water was poured into the two cuppers, sitting on the table for them both.

"You look so delicious I could bite a mouthful off you."

Surprised by his unfamiliar directness with her, Ariadna blushed - then her mouth popped open in shock, and she started laughing hard into her hand when she realised what in truth was the main event.

"Ah, yes, we befriended," said Professor Rose matter-of-factly as he was scratching the tender belly of Mr. Smittens as the kitten was spread in Rose's lap.

"Oh my gosh, I cannot believe my eyes!" she laughed dumbfounded.

"How come?" asked Rose curiously.

"No reason," giggled Ariadna. "The two of you are just too loveable, is all."

With that, she hurried to get her phone and snapped a picture of the two of them together.

'Maybe he watched the professor handle me so and realised he is someone not to be meddled with!' her smile broadened, and she resumed her discrete giggles.

"What is your kitten's name?"

"Oh, of course! Mr. Smittens, meet Mr. Rose. Mr. Rose, meet Mr. Smittens," she giggled harder at the absurd introduction.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Smittens," said Rose with impeccable graciousness and wiggled the kittens left-front leg.

Ariadna sat down smiling; she tried to think how the three of them look together at that moment; to her, it seemed like a heart-warming picture.

"You do in fact look beautiful, Flower," complimented again Professor Rose, causing her to blush.

Ariadna left her hair loose once more that day, so that the mane of silky curls framed her face, tickling the upper border of her shoulder blade. Amidst these flame-tongues twinkled in a blue hue a pair of small earrings, profoundly complimenting her sapphire eyes. She wore a salmon-coloured dress with brown front buttons which, despite being slightly looser than usual, rested on her petite figure in a manner resembling an overturned champagne glass; it had moderate cleavage which let know there were no bra straps underneath it. Alongside her delicate glasses, her appearance displayed class and understated sexiness.

She smiled and lowered her eyes when she felt her face tingling.

"How did you know how to find everything for the tea?" asked Ariadna.

Professor Rose smiled amusedly. "I spotted the jar labelled TEA and put what was inside in the cuppers. Seeing as this tea is lemon appropriate, and the basket of fruits you own contains lemons, I squeezed us both one."

Ariadna sipped from the tea both to taste the outcome, and to pass her slight awkwardness.

"Is it to your liking?"

She nodded, then brought up something else that has been bothering her.

"Sir, you know I must ask next: how did you know where I live?"

Gerard Rose laughed softly. "I was surprised you did not bring it up the moment you laid eyes on me today. May I just add, your bedroom's furnishing is elegant."

He snickered at his own joke, and she smiled politely.

"It is quite simple - you handed me you phone to enter my contact details, and I saw your address in your own contact ticket. Wanting to both surprise you and bask in your blush, I popped for a visit." A playful twinkle was in his eye as he smiled.

"I believe you, only it was so strange for me to see you here, then see you make tea in a kitchen you've never laid foot in. And to see my kitten fond of you? It is all so bizarre."

Rose nodded. "I know how it seems, Flower: it is like I have answers prepared for everything. Only, these are not ready-made excuses but the reasons for how the events took place."

"I know they are, and I happen to know what is common between these three strange coincidences," said Ariadna in a proper imitation of solemnity.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

Ariadna leaned forward with a small, though evident, curve of lips.

"You are a man who is in control and who asserts control on his surroundings."

A smile crept onto his lips, too. "You've noticed."

Ariadna giggled and shrugged with a smile. Mr. Smittens meowed and skipped away, allowing Professor Rose to sip from his tea.

"And?"

"And...?" she countered.

"What is your opinion of your epiphany?"

"I don't know... sir..." she lingered on that word. "Why don't you try to kiss me and find out?"

Both smiled openly as they leaned in each other's direction - only Mr. Rose surprised Ariadna by pulling her by her pits, causing her to squeal, and planting her on his thighs while she laughed. She smiled pleasantly and cuddled fondly against him while they were kissing - much more tenderly so than before. She was overpowered by his sweet, overcoming aroma.

"Drink your tea," Professor Rose instructed finally, stroking her hair slowly. She did so broodingly.

"Professor Rose," she said, as if tasting the name, "it feels so strange to call you by this name all of the sudden."

"You can call me whatever feels appropriate, Ariadna."

Short silence. "But only in private," she noted.

He nodded.

"We can't tell anyone, can we, Sir?"

"You already know this; what do you truly wish to know?" He was searching in her eyes with his.

She wrinkled her brow for a moment then asked, "May I tell Sienna, Sir?"

Ariadna felt his worry through his body, though he took his time formulating a reply.

"Not yet."

She was quite surprised at the phrasing. "Not yet? One day I might?"

"I think it is not a question of when, rather a question of if," he said, now confusing her with his phrasing. "What do you expect from me? What did you think when you have pictured us?"

"Who says I have?" she defied out of self-consciousness.

She could feel a deep belly-laugh humming through his chest. He waited silently.

"Alright," conceded Ariadna with a nervous laugh. "Well... at first, it was fairly simple - your looks and your aura have always been drawing me," she disclosed, and his laughter again rumbled in her ears. "I've fantasised on feeling your whiskers scratching my mitts, combing my fingers through your soft-looking hair. Well, ahem... later, my head developed this relentless daydream: pulling you, right there in the classroom the moment everyone leaves," she could feel herself blushing strongly, though between herself she thought maybe this fantasy could be realised. "Then, the day you charged us with the poem assignment, and I have experienced your influence on me in full, I imagined us... together."

She knew he focused his eyes on her then. "Did you touch yourself after class, thinking of me?"

Ariadna couldn't meet his gaze when she squirmed at his thick voice, then nodded a face as hot as her hair.

She's been half expecting him to sweep her and take her to the bedroom or even kiss her and say something which would cause her ticker to befall haywire.

He did none of those things.

Conspicuously motionless was he while she was cradled in his arms, awaiting him to do or say something in response to her confession. When she grew overly nervous, she raised her eyes to meet his.

She could not recall anyone looking at her the way he has.

No-one has had eyes rest on them the way Gerard Rose stared into hers then.

His eyes were a vortex of force unrestrained; profound and unyielding were they, and capable of bending the shape of seas on a whim - and capable of blurring all else beside the whirlpool sucking her perception to the core of his yearning. His eyes were a gem refined, a fairy in the starlight, a lively, sun-washed treetop, gleaming in a glare so brilliant it sparked inexplicable joy and inspired wonder at the splendour. His eyes were searing venomous candles, with the capacity to incinerate disgrace, doubt, dread, and distraction - leaving none but the furnace of passion flaming within.

Not daring to divert her eyes from the need burning in his, Ariadna gently placed her palms on his shoulder and pulled herself to sit in his lap, while his arms continue to engulf her.

"Please, Sir," she said, almost whispering, "please take it off."

She could spot effortlessly the fire fanned in his eyes at her words, although his complexion was left unaffected, solemnly hungry for Ariadna. His hands steadily slid across her figure, awaking her body as if his mere brush were exposing the nerves under her skin. Then, his fingers flicked over her breast, unbuttoning her dress with nearly no motion at all; as he did so, she raised her left hand to caress the fair features of his face.

As she could sense the buttons pop free, Ariadna shifted slightly on his lap and her dress climbed higher up her thighs; she gasped when at the discovery that she could sense the solidity projecting through the groin of his trousers. She bit her lip involuntarily.

"Oh, Sir..."

Her curves out on display, Rose placed his hand on the back of her head and tugged her head firmly, their lips crashing as silky riptides of desire. Locking lips, Ariadna kissed him with admiration and urgency like never before. The impression of his fiery eyes in her mind, his intoxicating fragrance, and the sensation of his tongue and lips melding with hers... all she could regret in that moment was that he left her dress resting on her shoulder, so while her breasts were visible as her chest heaved, he has yet to claim access to her erect nipples - and she was aching for him to take it.

His lips disconnected from hers, then she felt his face scraping against her cheek. When he reached her ear, he held still.

"Today, Flower, I am going to make you mine."

"Uhhh..." An involuntary groan escaped her lips when he spoke that, followed by rattling shivers of pleasure when he breathed and licked the soft flesh of her ear. It felt as though she was melting.

"Hold me, Sir, please..." Ariadna pled, unable to open her eyes. "I'm... about to fall."

"Hush now, Flower. I have you, and you will not fall while I do."

His quiet, assured voice was utterly immersing her dazed mind. Ariadna immediately felt safe and nodded. "I trust you, Sir."

"Good girl."

His hands slid slowly in the direction of her shoulders. Knowing what is about to come, her ears thundered with every thrust of her heart's pistons. She was ready.

When the shoulder straps slipped off, he was still and silent for a few deafening pulses.

"Your breast is breath-taking, Ariadna; your nipples are like roses." His voice was thick with lust and sincerity. Still, in this erotic position, Ariadna could not help but let out an exhale of a chuckle at how appropriate his description is.

Then all humour has been snuffed with an internal fire of lust when his lips descended unto the curves of her breast, frustratingly moving around the areolas. His lips kissed and sucked her tits aggressively, as if seeking their way to the heart pounding across them, though in her stomach Ariadna trembled with the gratification of dawning understanding - he was marking her as his own with his lips!

"Ahhh, oh yes...!" she moaned. Then Ariadna inhaled sharply when, at last, his lips found her nipples: "AH...! Oh my gosh!"

It was like a sudden bonfire sparked by the friction of her jutting nipples with the muscle in his mouth. Her nipple felt chill with Rose's tongue drooling over it but also inflamed and sparkling by the rubbing. Then she gasped and moaned harder as his sucking lips stoked the fire and hardened each of their flesh - and there was only warmth to be immersed in.

"Ah! Sir..."

She felt further hardening in the sensation when his teeth slid on her areola as he sucked, pinching mildly. Her nipples tingled at the nipping, and so did the flesh between her legs. She pressed him tighter to her when he granted the same treatment to her other tit, mashing the former with his possessive grasp.

He lifted his mouth after uncountable time.

"Can you walk?" His voice rasped.

She blinked her eyes open. Everything was lithe and collapsable... apart from two emeralds before her, filled with burning yearning.

"I can't."

He nodded once, untroubled. Fixed on his eyes and warmth grasp, Ariadna hardly registered he carried her away until she swayed as he crab-walked them into her bedroom. She tugged on his shirt and did something between kissing and sucking the flesh she revealed at his clavicles. He held there, enabling her hunger, then she yelped as he threw her unto her bed. She was delighted to quickly feel the mattress surrender as he joined her: she immediately charged him and resumed kissing where she did, her hands tugging repeatedly on his shirt, and under her lips, his fingers began carving a way for her mouth through his buttons. His hands immediately when this was through to remove the hanging-open dress, leaving her skin clad only in cream-coloured thong.

Ariadna shivered though she felt aught but cold, and still she pressed her whole body to her Sir's, craving more of his warmth, more of his touch, sensing his lightly-feathered chest crashing hers; all the while she was kissing his body whereas Rose's assertive hands were needlessly securing her lips to his skin, his digits lost in her pepper curls, and she was stretching her lips up to his neck and beyond. His hand abruptly took her neck, causing her to gasp in surprise, and he guided her red lips to his to be devoured by them without reservations. His strong hand was fastened round her throat all the while, his fingers massaging it and his palm tight against her windpipe, though for all his force and lust, she recognised in some dim rational corner of her consumed brain that she was breathing and moaning just as deeply as before - and she only strove closer and closer to him.

Her fingers clawed at his waist and lower back to draw her hips tight against his. He released her throat then and his body answered hers: Ariadna groaned with hunger as his hands gripped hard her bum, empowering her drive for closeness. She snuck her hands into his unbuttoned shirt, and he allowed her to slip it off his shoulders. She drew air sharply as Rose's hands found her rears again with a smack. She nestled against his chest and whimpered as he slapped her arse again, but she would not ask him to stop, nor did she stop moaning at his touch.

"You are my Flower, Ariadna," Rose whispered down to her ear. She could not think of anything to say; she just moaned as Rose kneaded her buttocks. "You are only mine."

She nodded against his chest and whimpered as another smack landed.

"Yes, Sir," she breathed.

"Say it, Ariadna."

"I am yours, Sir... All yours."

With familiar abruptness, Rose clasped his hands tighter on her rear and pulled her up. The air halted in her lungs when Rose lifted and pressed her to him in a show of strength and desire that overpowered her, and she now had her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Ah...!" she moaned and her breath grew choppy with Rose grinding her against his hardened groin whilst kissing her neck. She found she could multiply the sensation by tightening her legs around him. The sheer fabric of her bottoms was sticking to and stretching her pussy as it soaked them. Without planning it, she started matching his movements, curling her hips to press the bulge in his trousers deeper against her groin.

"Please, Sir... please!" she whined in between gasps, but she knew not what she was begging for.

"I know, Flower..." he mumbled against her neck and then sucked on her racing pulse in her chest and on her curves.

"Sir...!" she murmured with inexpressible urgency.

"Do not come yet, Flower," Rose said in a soft command.

'Is that what's happening?' she marvelled as she struggled to take air in.

Suddenly he stopped and, to her protesting grumble, rested her back. Rose snickered softly, causing her blushing face to flush even more, then moved with undiminished desire: he lifted and transitioned Ariadna with ease to the bed's centre and there he spread her on her back. She attempted to slide her fingers through his hair and beard, but Rose would not have it - with his hands, he ironed her arms back over Ariadna's head, unto the mattress - then began kissing intensely his way down from her neck.

"You are so sexy, my flower." His breath fluttered across her breast, and she knew not if it was this or his words that sent shivers up her spine. Ariadna reached to him, but she gasped as he was on her as a whirlwind, nailing her arms immovable over her head, and the green in his eyes unmoveable.

"Stay, Flower. Do as I instruct."

Something fluttered and sizzled low in Ariadna's belly.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered. Rose resumed where he was stopped, sucking her mounds in a manner that caused her spine to tingle and made her sex to ache and bloom more than the lip-shaped evidence he had traced. Ariadna involuntarily arched her back, pushing her skin against Rose's mouth, and fold her legs, pushing her waist off the mattress with the palm of her foot to rub against her Sir's abdomen. Upon an especially pleasuring kiss, her legs snaked to cross on the firm curve of his rear.

Rose's reaction was immediate. Her legs were whipped apart in an instant, as though her toned runner legs were just as feeble as they felt to her then; he then loomed right over her, and the green eyes angled over hers were no longer a stony dominance, but a sinister burning.

"Make me repeat myself, Flower. Make me."

There would have been total silence as his glare and mild intimidation petrified her, if not for the hammering of her heart. Ariadna wriggled under Rose. She knew by the hint of self-doubt in his eye that he thought it was from panic. Her thighs pressed together to rub away the tingle that flushed between them, and she bit her lower lip absentmindedly without diverting her stare from the fire within her Rose's.

The hesitation in his eye was directly snuffed; before he could resume tasting her body though, she poked her head up and dragged her tongue across his lips then smirked.

Ariadna didn't even mark his hand's motion before her throat was clenched firmly in it. His grip was tight as a neck brace, preventing her from looking away from his overriding stare, and her mouth popped open in shocked admiration pretence, before her eyes rolled closed sensually, and she chuckled to herself while again biting her lip hard.

"Do you mistake me for a boaster, Flower?" Gerrard Rose's voice was bordering on a snarl. "You are mine, and for me to admonish how I will."

In a flash, the choking hand slapped her, and Ariadna found herself gasping in mock astonishment before chuckling softly, to his spite.

"Were you not a virgin I would have had you limping from how aching I would have left your cunt."

He slapped her again. Ariadna though could feel his long-upheld discipline wearing out, and her impish urge grew.

"All bark, no bite..." - then added belatedly - "Sir."

Rose yanked her to a sitting position by the throat and her bare breast rocked. "Ah!" she whined but smirked knowingly; his hand caused no mark or cough since she started teasing him. Yet the grin waned slightly when she saw the emerald in his eyes is darker and checked as a jagged gem.

"There is more than one answer for mischief." His voice was so deep and reserved that it was virtually a hum, so she yelped in surprise when he turned her over with skill and shoved her face to the mattress then pulled her rump over his knees. Before she could turn to watch his intentions, he grasped a feastful of her hair and she let out a subdued moan when he pulled back her head. She closed her eyes upon feeling him close to her, the warmth in her belly swirling and broiling as he whispered in her ear:

"You will be incapable of sitting even till you are back in my class."

"Ah!" she cried as he pressed her face back on the mattress and held it there, then the first smack landed hard on her bum. With the thong leaving her all but exposed, her skin got instantly hot and irritated. Rose's hand held there for a moment, massaging her soft curve.

"Does the Flower wish her punishment over?" A shiver cascaded down her spine. The soft tenor regained its amiable quality, but the ruthlessness his gentility was masking was palpable all the same. Even so, Ariadna knew - somehow - that this was not only a play on her established trust in him, that he would stop if she made him see that she wanted him to.

But she didn't. Her rump was burning from this one strike, but now it matched the fever low in her tummy; and her Sir's hand, being so close to her pussy... she was surprised her panties were not burning, or else dripping. She felt by instinct what her answer should be.

"Please, Sir, I'll be better," she whined, "please don't hurt my butt anymore."

"Not good enough."

The second smack seared more than the first, and she yelped. He massaged again her round buttocks that surrendered to his hand.

"Please, please, Sir! I promise I'll be good," Ariadna pled. Rose pulled her head back again.

"Try again."

The strike to follow his whisper earned her another squeal, and she felt her rears rattle. She bit her lip at the heat that he administered with his hand to her bottoms. Rose's hand rested on the enflamed cheeks, massaging them, frustratingly hovering over her crotch.

"Please... please, Sir," Ariadna begged meekly, "I am sorry I defied you so much. I promise I will be a good girl from now on, your Flower. I'll do anything to satisfy you, Sir, I will..." she whimpered and nodded as much as she could with her back-bent head, watching his face from the corner of her eye.

At that moment he disappeared from her field of view. Her head still fixed in its place by the hair, she could not turn to see what he is doing.

Then she felt his hand on her pussy.

Ariadna gasped and moaned so audibly that she hardly heard him say in a velvet voice, "Goodness, Flower, have you gotten wet by your chastising?"

His face appeared in her sight without leaving her panties. She pouted and nodded with show of remorse.

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry," she whined pitifully, feeling her sex tingling and the warm fluttering in her tummy growing like a shower of sparks from a wildfire; "I cannot control my pussy when you are close by." She bit her lip due to the word that she used for her sex.

"Do you want your sir to touch you more?"

"Oh, please sir! Will you?" she gushed.

"Yes, Flower, I will, if you mean to remain a good girl," he said with a voice thick with intent.

Her game being done, she could say nothing else: "Please, Sir, please touch me all over! I promise I will obey you always."

"We shall see," Rose said squarely, and soon Ariadna found herself laying once more on her back, this time on the pillows. But there was not superfluous fondling or kissing. There was no doubt that she was ready, that she needs this. Rose positioned himself before her and spread her legs before encroaching the space between them.

"Please sir, I want you so badly." Ariadna's voice was soft but trembling with lust wherewith it was charged.

Wordlessly, his fingers trailed over the flexible hem of her undergarment and peeked into it, sliding between it and her skin to her waist, and there he drew it down her legs and off. She lay there wriggling expectantly in front of him, wholly bared for her Sir, who took the moment to admire her.

"You are perfect, my Flower," he said in a voice that would not have stirred a mouse yet warmed her heart and made her legs writhe all the more by the tingle it evoked between them.

Then he placed his hands on both sides of her waist and leaned forward while meeting her eyes, headfirst. Ariadna grasped then what he was intending and even all her teasing and his domination of her body still very fresh in her mind, she discovered that her breath was hastening and that she was blushing at the thought of what was coming. Rose noted this, and a smirk flashed onto his face. Ariadna flushed more, feeling absurd.

That feeling passed when his warm breath came into contact with the moisture on her labia. Her breath became faster still. She propped herself on her elbows and locked eyes with Rose, whose mouth hovered inches from her--

'What is he doing?!' she thought and audibly grumbled: Rose's mouth drifted sideways, to peck her thighs. She was prepared to say something, either in the form of a plea or of a scolding, but she kept a lid on it - it being her bubbling desire and frustration. She had no intention of breaking his position by questioning her Sir's authority.

Her breathing grew heavier when his kissing began circling back in the way of her flower, and she propped herself higher again.

"Sir!" she whined before regaining hold of herself as his lips trailed a fraction off from her flower's petals.

"Yes, Flower?"

His impeccable politeness taught her he was fully in the light about her reasons for frustration.

"Please, Sir, stop teasing me," she complained to her professor, sprawled between her naked legs.

"Now, now, she who lives in a house of glass... Then again, I may be no better, as I am growing quite fond of this teasing you have afforded me."

She had the childish urge to punch the mattress.

"Please, Sir! You are driving me mad - and I've been trying to make amends."

"And yet, I am still here, ready to be treating you to indulge your desires."

That he was hardly making an effort to disguise his amusement was what nearly drove Ariadna to childish, desperate means in earnest. Thankfully, he spoke before she resulted to such methods.

"You should have to beg, Flower, it would seem."

"I am!" she exclaimed, and he held his stare on her. "S--sir," she amended.

He resumed calmly kissing her inner thighs while eying her. "I am afraid that you are bound to do better to earn your penitence, Flower."

She sensed then what he craved, how he was leading her to it, bit by bit, and to her own. Her frustration was alternated for nervousness of all things - and urgency.

"Please-oh-please, Sir," she begged with no shred of cynicism or entitlement, "please let me feel your mouth on my pussy... Please lick me, Sir. I need it, I need you so fucking badly."

He chuckled once in approval. "Good girl."

The only thought his tongue left in her mind was some stunned curse chain. It was that first lick that wiped more than her moisture, but her inhibition too. Her lungs sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath at first contact and she slid off her elbows to the mattress. Her back arched, perking her mounds, as a shiver travelled through it as soon as her Sir's lips locked onto her pussy: he sipped her, he lapped at her, he breathes her... It all overwhelmed her.

She remembered smelling the scent of her own sex, but then all that mattered was that his tongue flicked a switch inside her - literally.

"MNGH!" she moaned loudly through sealed lips. Her clenched hands punched the mattress, though not in frustration - she wasn't even commanding them.

"UGH-nmm!" she gasped when his entire tongue rasped across her clit in a sloppy motion that allowed him to take in more of her teeming fluids. She heard him swallow as he practically gulped her in increasingly demanding motions.

"Mmnn!" Ariadna moaned impatiently as her back arched once more, angling her hips so that her clit was in constant access to him, but her hips fell feebly and disinclined to follow her brain's commands.

"AH! Yes!" she cried when Rose angled himself as her body signalled she needed. "Fuck, Sir! Ugh..."

"What is it?" he croaked at her displeased sigh.

"I..." - she gasped for air - "don't like cursing..."

Rose laughed softly before finally putting aside talking.

"Uhh yes...!" she hissed. He reoriented himself to her clit, and her hand fumbled for his head, fastening him unto her pussy.

Gradually, the warmth flocking inside her lower belly began to grow. It was warm sparks no more, but scorching artillery. Something unfamiliar in its intensity was building within her. Her breathing became shallower and choppy, her legs were writhing, pushing the mattress then slipping forward.

"Hmngh!" she groaned, her breast rising and falling, shaking with her breath: Rose was hardening the tip of his tongue, and with it, he was rubbing and flicking her clit in clock-like rhythm. Ariadna felt herself becoming more and more immersed in the burning pleasure and the tempo of his licking. Her breaths deepened - nevertheless feeling deprived of oxygen - and with each one, her tummy rose and fell in waves of a building tide...

She could feel her pussy becoming soaking and Rose lapping it over her clit, rubbing it with impossible, imperative pleasure. She pulled his head closer, desiring him then with lust more profound than she has ever felt before--

"AHHHHH!"

It came - she came, all of her, in an indescribable ecstasy: she cried and her whole insides clenched, with thrilling fire shot up from her pussy. Her chest rose with a whine, her fists clenched the sheets, her nipples knotted and perked, her eyes rolled close, and her breathing stopped for the span of two seconds. Then - release. A feeling of divine satisfaction, of cleansing, and shimmering pleasure flow free with her departing fluids, leaving inside splendid peace and a sense of first-full-breath.

And in the middle of it all was Rose.

She flinched when his tongue lapped up final drops of nectar from her sensitive flower. He rested his head in her lap and stroked her hips.

"You look indescribably beautiful when you climax, my flower."

She chortled and combed her fingers fondly through his hair. "I can't open my eyes."

"This is for the better; nothing is comparable with you."

"Me?!" she mumbled blissfully. "You're one to talk..."

She heard Rose chuckle, and she flinched by his breath on her petals, thinking it funny how it felt cool after her release. He began tracing kisses across her skin up to her mouth, and once there, she melded his mouth to hers.

At last, they separated, and her eyelids fluttered open. She became subtly aware of the moisture under her bum and the wonderful ache of her clit.

"I do not know how women have sex after this," Ariadna pondered aloud and blushed. Clearly her inner monologue was out for lunch.

Rose smiled. "It is only your third oral orgasm, Ariadna; give it time. But I admit, it pleases me to hear that it is on your mind all the same."

Ariadna surveyed him with an embarrassed hue. She suddenly became aware of a rod lodged between them... one that was covered in cloth... and her flower began to bloom and tingle again, to her astonishment.

"How are your first sexual misadventures so far, Ariadna?" Rose asked with a smirk. "Is it all you imagined it to be?"

She shook her head, woozy though it was, and saw him blink to scan her expression for an elucidation.

Ariadna brushed his chest with her fingers. "No fantasy I could come up with has ever measured up to this, Sir."

He chuckled softly. "And what have you imagined, Flower?"

She gulped, looking at him as he watched his fingers absentmindedly trail along her freckles and veneers, her curves and concavities.

"I have imagined us together in the bed, doing... things..." she conceded at last and tucked away her embarrassed face from him. "And in the shower, similar things. To be truthful, I never thought of you controlling me, becoming my Sir, but now that you have..." she inspected her fingers pressing deeper into his chest, furrowing pale lines over it.

"So, you have never imagined this?" asked Rose as his hand closed on her mound, tickling around its tip.

She bit her lip and shook her head with her eyes closed. His eyes were looking at nothing in particular as he continued fondling the red-hot curls spilling on the slope of her curving chest.

"Mmm... maybe..."

Rose's smile widened before her when her eyes opened. "Then I am deeply fond of your imagination's course."

She returned a restless smile and nibbled on her lip again. A green fire in his eyes was ignited when she did, and he leaned to bite it by himself.

"Mngh..." she moaned as their lips locked, and their tongues tasted each other's. Her breath abruptly got stuck in her throat: his fingers roamed lower again, and her slit began tickling before he even reached it.

"I told you, haven't?" muttered Rose in a knowing note amid the deep, slow kisses. "You had only to give your flower time..."

"You ha-a-a-a...!" Ariadna's reply was lost in a shuddering groan as his fingers felt beyond her vibrant pubic hair after their purpose. His touch delicate upon her tender-most skin, her thighs begun wriggling against his hand whereas she delved deeper into their kiss. The hand Ariadna had on his chest pressed against it while clawing at it, yet her other tethered itself in his hair to pull him so tight that his whiskers scratched her cheeks.

Their kissing hardened. Soon, the softness of Ariadna's lips was no longer a factor. Their teeth were awkwardly bumping into the other's, she could feel Rose's bones through their mashing lips, and their tongues probed deep, lapping at length at each other's in a sloppy expression of wantonness. But this was irrelevant. His fingers were handling her pussy, and his tongue was researching hers... Her desire was now a carnal obsession for her Sir.

"Sir..." the word came out as a hiss. "Don't stop... please... don't stop there..."

"Say it, Flower..." his breath susurrated back in between her lips. "Surrender yourself to me and beg me to repay you with what you desire."

Hey heart was pounding - not out of fear, as he would never harm her, nor out of doubt, for what he'd claim she would readily yield. It was because her blood was heavy with yearning, and she was impatient to gratify his demand.

"Please, Sir, oh, please put your dick in my pussy!" she whimpered, straining to speak through the sensual haze which writhing under his gaze and fingers conjured. "I can take it, Sir - I know I can! - I'm dying to." His hand tightened on her face at her words, and pled in a determined plea, "Take me, Sir, all of me, make me all yours."

Her Sir did not appraise her obedience or say a thing, but the verdant bonfire in his eye told her that his hunger overcame speech; Ariadna wriggled from head to toe by the force of his stare even as he got off the bed and undid his belt and trousers. She heard them drop and she disengaged their stare despite herself to bask in his member. She nibbled her lower lip again and her lower abdomen became a furnace, her groin soaked.

She groaned and her eyes rolled in delight when his body weighed on hers and his digits grasped her neck again, with his lips sucking in their gaps. Her Sir's rod, rough from swollen veins, grazed her naval as he loomed over his enthralled Flower, smearing her with temperate balm. The sensation was electric. Her fingers sought him, tugging his build at various places to draw him ever tighter. Lower and lower she fumbled and clawed, until her fingers latched on the curve of his rear, coiled in robust strength as he swayed his hips across her belly. His lips sucked her pulse sharply and Ariadna yelped, then she yanked harder at the soft skin over the stretching steel fibres beneath. She could not tell if it was warmth or nectar pouring from her throbbing sex.

"Pleaseeee Sir, I can't take it anymore," she was all but crying; "I need more... I want you closer, I need you... deeper... Ugh, I need you inside meee, Sir...!"

"Hush now, my Flower," Rose crooned in her ear. "Your Sir is about to take away the ache in your pussy. I mean to show special care to my gentle flower. Here, can you feel this?" - her breathing turned patchy and her whole body trembled as his shaft began sawing over her soaking pussy - "Your Sir is not going to leave his Flower like this, shaking for him to fill her up. I am going to make your pussy mine."

"Oh, Sir..." she groaned, her breath jerky as it left her lungs. Her hips began to rock to meet the sliding of his shaft, dragging it across her swollen clit.

Ariadna's breathing was accelerating, and she was clawing at him more needily, the friction of their sexes igniting her all. A wave inside her tummy was beginning to tow down to her pussy.

"No, Flower."

"UGHHH!" she whined loudly, staring at him pulling away. He would not let her orgasm?! Her face twisted in a heart-wrenching pout, and irrational tears hung from her lower lashes. But a shade of a grin hid at the corner of Rose's lip when he loomed over to her ear.

"The next time you climax, Flower, will be on my prick."

The murmur thrilled her to no end, and Ariadna immediately lunged to kiss and nibble at the shoulder in front of her, but Rose was already pulling up from her - and pointing his rod at her flower. Ariadna was breathing fast and shallow as his hands spread her knees farther apart - as easily as a corkscrew's handles - and then she felt the tip of his member, soft as the rims of her own sex, brushing against her opening and stirring her fluids with the trickle sticking from its head. Soon his cock was made wet by her.

"Look at me, Flower."

His voice was hoarse, saturated by lust. And he had the eyes to match. They were consumed by a primal burning, and she could peer deep down to their core. Ariadna had no strength or need for defences, and she knew he could see through them and understand what inhabited her.

He pushed forward.

Ariadna gasped softly: her Sir's cock was carving up her entry to claim what she had surrendered to him. He paused at the sound, though he hasn't even met with resistance from her sleek labia. She bit her lip, and he took the cue - with burning gravity, he crept deeper in. Her brow suddenly furrowed, and she froze at a pang that caught her breath in her chest.

Rose dawdled there and caressed her legs. "Breathe, Flower, let your diaphragm rest. I am at where the hymen should be, but you are wet and soft, and the hurt will pass, but only if you have faith in me - and welcome your Sir in your pussy."

"Yes, Sir," Ariadna mumbled. She breathed deeply and regarded her physicality - the throbbing of her pussy, the tingling-stretching inside it, her ragged breaths, and the caressing on her legs by Rose's fingers. She focused on the last one, on the comfort and tenderness it imbued in her, and she breathed more lightly. She caressed her chest, and she blurted a surprised "Oh!" when she felt Rose twitch inside her at the gesture. She looked to him, but his face revealed nothing save for care and adoration.

And he waited for her. The thought, that she was giving herself to him at her pace, and the reaction that revealed how aroused he is, fanned her excitement and eased her insides. In her raw state, her body must have gave away something of her state, as Rose tilted his head as he watched her. She bit her lips in nervous eagerness and nodded.

His warm eyes dropped from her and fixed at their developing tryst. Suddenly taken by desire to view it too, she propped herself off the pillows. She could not see him entering her, but Ariadna could tell there was more of him to receive.

Then Rose gradually withdrew, and she inhaled sharply and held up a hand. He stopped at once and asked, "Are you hurt, Ariadna?"

She was breathing fast: the opposite motion stimulated a burning inside her, as if her nerves endings were chafed exposed, in a sense that was almost too intense to bear. Almost.

She shook her head. "No, Sir, no... ah... oh gosh..."

"Are you sure, Flower?"

"Yes... I mean, yes, Sir... it's just... phew, it's extreme..." she muttered incoherently.

"It gets better later, Flower," he promised in his familiar soft graciousness, "even while it grows in extremity."

A sly smirk reappeared on his lips, but his dick was rubbing inside her again, and she had no air to interrogate him. Then she saw him drive slowly back in, and her eyes rolled while her lungs sucked more air that she'd thought they could contain. He stopped at the same place for the span of two hasty breaths, then he repeated the movement, just as deliberately as he had until then. Before she comprehended that she is receiving him more easily, Rose started pressing farther, softer than he had until that point; but even so she moaned and frowned, feeling her hymen reluctant to give in. He halted immediately at her reaction, looking concerned but saying nothing, though she knew what he thought to ask.

"I want to go on," she said, looking at him through heavy eyelids, "but I need to touch you, Sir... please..."

"Soon, Flower," he reassured gently. "I crave the same, but if I lean forward now, you will suffer more pain. Trust me, my Ariadna."

The words warmed Ariadna, and she nodded, settling on holding her arms across her abdomen. She breathed steadily, reminding herself she trusts Rose, and looked up to his tantalising emeralds before nodding. Then, without disengaging their eyes, he drove forward firmly.

Ariadna cried and her hands shot up to clench over her mouth as a throbbing pain soared, of something sheer inside her that has been overstretched until it ripped. Slowly, the pain subsided; Rose, though his push was determined, advanced only slightly deeper, and there he remained, only watching Ariadna catch her breath as the stings diminished to thin inflamed strands. Then her hands dropped to hold her breasts, with her forearms overlaying her torso in a way that felt more bracing to her. When she opened her eyes, she caught him glimpsing to where they were joined before locking onto her face.

"You are breathtaking, my Flower."

She beamed at the words through a bitten lip, and recognising the tender yet profound adoration in his eyes, the low of her tummy filled with deep warmth that overcame the searing thread her hymen left.

"Thank you, Sir," she whispered meekly.

Rose smiled and dawdled a moment longer, then he started gently pushing past the previous stop. With her eyes still closed she focused on Rose's hands on her legs, and on relaxing her body. He paused before the intense stretching became too much and allowed her pussy to adjust. After a few seconds, he withdrew his shaft from inside her as slowly as he entered while watching her face intently, for Ariadna grimaced slightly while biting her lip, but she would not bid him to stop. But Rose stopped regardless, the tip of his member still nestled in her flower, and he smiled.

"Thank you, Flower, for granting me your virginity."

His voice moved her with its warmth, and she propped herself to follow his eyes. Thin crimson streaks, speckled in her fluid, coated the veins of his rod. At once she felt like slow tongues of arduous fire were twirling low in her tummy. She knew well that a torn hymen is nothing to celebrate, nor having had one made her more virgin than any other girl, but it moved her all the same - that there was concrete sign to signify truly: she granted him something singular, that can never be given again, and with it - herself.

"Let me touch you, Sir," she begged, voicing her very body's exigency with every syllable. "Please-please-pleaseee, Sir, I need it so badly!"

Ariadna spotted a glimmer matching her own fire in his eye, and without a word, her Sir leaned forward with all his body.

"Ahhhh...!" a moan issued unbidden for as long as his cock was sinking into her pussy. He was still cautious, yet her body wanted to demand he stopped, even with the pervading, unrelenting stimulus his drilling roused, but she did not need to demand that: every inch was bringing him closer.

Finally, he supported himself looming over her, his shaft half-sheathed inside her, and her bare chest heaving with mounting desire under his flooring stare.

"As you wish, Flower," he whispered softly. Her hands immediately clambered to caress and grasp him, to relish his tactility.

"I'm yours, Sir... I'm yours..." she mumbled repeatedly, as in a wonderstruck chant. "Please, sir, do not stop now," she asked, clutching at his hips in childish frustration.

Rose's eyes sparked. "I had no intention of doing thus, my Flower. You are mine, and for me to use according to my pleasure."

"Yes-- I mean, I am, sir."

"Perhaps I should hold myself here and let you squirm with my dick pinning your pussy to help you comprehend the scope of what this means to be mine."

"Oh, no! Please, sir, put it all inside me! then do with me as you please," she begged desperately and found herself pulling on Rose closer, grappling in vain against the restraint he maintained. When she discovered he would not be moved, she tried to wriggle and lithe up his member - just as he said she may - but that was only multiplying her frustration, and her pussy felt on fire in its futile demand for attention. And all the while, Rose has been besieging her with a measured glare, and the low flame in his eye was unwavering in the face of her huffing and flailing.

Then she slumped onto the mattress, her head angled up to him, so he may be moved by the desperate yearning her eyes expressed.

"Sir, I am sorry, it was not my intention to undercut your authority," her fingers were dragging down his skin in a feeble attempt to draw him into her. "I am begging your to-- to fuck me... but... this is for my Sir to decide. If you tell me my place is to stay hungry for you, then this what will be, Sir... you a-- a-a-a-ahhh!"

Ariadna's high-pitched moan terminated her pleas when her Sir resumed submerging his cock in her pussy without warning. The friction and stretching in her pussy arched her back in a groan, causing her nipples to graze her Sir's chest, then her shoulders rolled forward and she grasped at his, nuzzling her head against his bulk while her eyes were following his member disappearing inside her.

"Don't stop, don't stop," she panted as she clung trembling unto his shoulder blades.

"I cannot, Flower," his voice rumbled near her ear, "I need your pussy too much."

She gasped and buried her eyes in the valley of his shoulder: his shaft now nearly fully stashed inside her, she felt its tip right below her lower abdomen - engulfed by her lust's flames - and its thick base stretching wider her opening... Then their groins met.

She has never felt so full, nor her blood ever raged so hot. She felt like her pussy was trying to fuse with her Sir's cock - so tight it clung to him that there was nothing between the pulse of their soaked sexes. Still heaving from bliss and thrilling ache, she lowered her eyes and saw her soft curls tangled with his thin bush. A moment later, Rose slowly lowered himself so his elbows and her back rested on the mattress, and their eyes met, filled by scalding lust.

"I am going to move now, Flower," he warned. She nodded without breaking eye contact and her hands slid to his neck and bristled jaw. Gradually, Rose withdrew his shaft from inside her, its counter motion causing her sensitive pussy to feel nearly irritated from friction, and when the head of his member almost touched her rim, he pressed it back in harder than before.

"Yes..."

Ariadna hardly recognised herself in this hiss. It did not matter: her Sir, the man she's been infinitely craving, was prodding himself in her pussy. Her pleasure doubled up, and so did the soaking of her pussy.

Rose was building up rhythm in excruciating deliberateness. Rose's self-control, his care for her, swelled her heart, for he knew just as she did that a girl's first time is often sore. But she had no use of it; her aching was a different kind, for a different thing.

"More, Sir... please..." she groaned, arching her back and wriggling needily.

"Are you certain, Ariadna?" he asked, hesitant. "I was meaning to--"

"Yesss, Sir! Pleaseee," she whined, clinging to his waist and ribs. "My pussy is yours, Sir... Take me, Sir, take your Flower... I beg you... f-fuck me..."

His gaze bore into her eyes, and Ariadna knew he'd only find there desperate pleading.

"MMM!" Ariadna purred through bitten lip as Rose thrust his hips harder. "Yes, Sir, yesss...!" she panted, his dick prodding harder inside her pussy. Ariadna moaned as his rod stretched her pussy, right up to her lower belly.

"AH!" Her eyes and head rolled back with a gasp when the next thrust crashed Rose against her pussy, and she heard herself whimpering as his rod was drawing and driving with his full length, mercilessly stretching and rubbing the lining of her pussy.

"Just like that, my Flower, take all of your Sir's dick in your pussy," groaned Rose, and she clawed at his waist in response. "Your pussy is so tight, Flower."

"Fuck it, Sir... please, fuck it harder..." begged Ariadna, drawing him by the hips. "Take my virginity... make me completely yours..."

At that the last bit of Rose's restraint gave way. With a grunt he grabbed her throat and pressed it at the same time as he began drilling her pussy so hard that her tits smacked each other as they bounced. Ariadna squealed and cried at the onslaught, clinging onto her Sir. Her flower was burning with persistent throbbing by the pounding he was administering, resulting in uncontrollable whimpering and yelping and in eyes rolling under the sweaty curls that were clinging to her brow as the burning stoked the deep fire within her.

"Such a good girl... Mngh! Take in all my rod. Fuck, stay with me, Flower, stay with me... you are alright, just take in my cock... Good girl..."

Her Sir's grunts and subdued urging in her ear were sending tremors throughout her, and the slosh of his cock pistoning in and out of her soaking pussy amplified their bodies' impact. Ariadna wrapped her legs around his waist, and he could plunge all the more deeply and faster into her pussy, and the noise of his dick pumping her drenched pussy rang in her ears.

"AHH! Yes, Sir, yes! Fuck your Flower, please!" Ariadna cried and whimpered, shaking by the hammering of her flower and by a force within her, as his sawing cock scraped across her clit and a hypersensitive point in her pussy. The sensation was surging, becoming almost electrifying, and she knew what was coming...

"I'm... going to orgasm... Sir..." she gasped while grasping him more urgently. "Your dick is going to make me--mngh!--cum, Sir!"

"I am too, Flower..." growled Rose, "I am almost there, just stay with me Flower... Mmm!... just a little bit longer!"

A jolt of carnal pleasure crossed Ariadna, and she was nearing faster to her peak.

"Yesss! Please, Sir... come for me!" she cried, and her legs locked harder and higher on her Sir's waist. Her urging driving his desire, Rose gathered Ariadna in a tight embrace with his hand clasping her tight to him by the hair, and his cock prodded deeper and harder still in her pussy.

"OH, YES! AHHH! YESSS!"

Ariadna cried and squealed, driven faster into ecstasy by the harsh, blunt pounding of her flower, and she wrapped her arms too around Rose's neck. Their bodies pressed against each other and hers penetrated repeatedly by his, Ariadna practically bawled with jerky breaths, swelled with utter pleasure.

Then came the order: "Cum for me, Flower! Cum now for your Sir!"

His dominating words did it. Ensnared by the notion that she must climax only on his command, an electric riptide coursed from her pussy, and she cried, consumed in ecstasy as she felt her pussy spasm around her Sir's rock-hard dick, squeezing it tighter still somehow. Rose's breath grew huskier on her ear and his grunts feral. Her shaking doubled at the raw, uncontained sounds of pleasure and she scratched at his back to bring him even closer as her pussy, wringing his big cock as it fucked her, was driving him over the edge.

"AHHHHH HMNGHHH!!!" - she screamed and he growled as both jerked and they clinched one another while thrusting hard without control against each other at the culmination of their fucking; suddenly Ariadna felt a hot, thick jet spurt deep, directly at her furnace of lust, and flood her pussy, just as she released a primal screamed and felt her pussy squirt her fluids between spasms and daub them all over his member.

Grasped in an embrace to each other while breathing deep to catch their breath, and with his fluids flowing in her flower whilst Rose, buried up to her womb, is anointed with hers - Ariadna has never felt so full before.

Rose loosened the hand in her hair and lifted his head from her shoulder, and Ariadna released her arms and legs round his body and her head slumped on the pillows. The stared in each other's eyes, her breast pressed against his chest as they were panting; Ariadna's face was contorted in a spent visage by the ravaging of her pussy and plastered with sweat-coated flaming curls. Rose's expression was glowing into admiration as he scanned hers, then he leaned in to spread kisses about her face and chuckled when this motion caused her sensitive flower to twitch round his member. Ariadna's eyelids drooped whereas her breathing grew richer as she basked in her Sir's adoration, lightly brushing his head with her fingers while his lips were traveling along her features.

He lifted his lips from her skin and said softly, "You are my sweet, perfect flower, and you belong now only to me."

Ariadna's lips rose in a glowing beam and her hands wrapped themselves again on his neck. "You are my Sir - I belong to you alone... But you also belong only to me, Sir."

Rose pushed against her embrace to meet her eyes and said in a low voice, charged with meaning, "I am, my Ariadna. There will never be another, so long as you are mine."

Her heart glowed at the words and warmth flushed in her tummy.

"I... I am really happy that you took my virginity, Sir," she mumbled.

Rose's eyes flashed. "I am too, my Flower. You are such a good girl for surrendering your flower to your Sir and accepting his seed in it."

His words and look sent currents throughout her body. She lifted her head and kissed him, their tongues sinking in between their lips. She bit her own when pulling away for air, and his mouth found her neck once more. A tingling returned inside her pussy, and Ariadna felt his cock hardening inside her in sync; but she also sensed how tender and sticky her semen-crusted flower felt, and she drew her head back with a blush painting her face.

"I really need to clean up, Sir," she said with a sheepish smile. One of amusement stretched on his lips.

"Not to fear, my Flower, I can restrain myself for a while longer," he chuckled, then tilted his head. "What would you say if I suggested we wash together?"

A thrill leapt inside her. "Yes! Umm, but... well, I need first to... uh..."

"What is it, Flower?"

Ariadna blushed profusely for finding only blunt words: "I need to pee first, Sir."

Rose started laughing with heart at that, Ariadna trapped under him in full embarrassment.

"Silly Flower, you need never feel awkward or apologise for needing to relieve yourself," he grinned, though his voice was soft. "What an ungentlemanly sir would I be if this were to repulse me from you!"

Before Ariadna could respond Rose began unsheathing his shaft from inside her, and she yelped as she felt his sticky sex detach from hers. He sat up between her legs and grinned smugly.

"You have made quite a mess, Flower," he said as in a compliment. Ariadna sat up too and was shocked at the amounts of fluids which soaked the sheets, with only some being her Sir's seed, leaking from inside her. All in all, she had to agree - but accused him of having had some hand in the matter, to which he laughed in concession.

Ariadna jumped when on the way to the bathroom Mr. Smittens ran from her bedroom door to the kitchen, and she felt absurdly embarrassed.

'We might as well get used to it, Mr. Smittens,' she chided both of them in her mind - 'I don't think we're going back from this! Actually, I sincerely hope not.' And with that she marched in naked defiance to the bathroom.

'It could be worse,' thought Ariadna with an ironic smile as she flushed, considering the warmth in her heart and tummy despite the soreness and little blood on the sinking toilet paper; 'I know girls that were practically bedridden for the rest of the day after their first time.'

She turned on the water in the bath to heat up and opened the bathroom door and called, "I am ready, sir."

He appeared naked too, and he asked his perfect polite smile that has always melted her, "May I also make use of your laboratories, Ms. Hayes?"

She grinned just as a hue of irony crept onto his own smile too. "Please, do feel comfortable," she replied in a shadow of his mannerism.

"I feel I must apologise in advance if I soil the rim of the bowl, embarrassing though it is - a man's manhood is anything but accurate after sexual fulfilment," he confessed apologetically while eyeing her as he approached the toilet.

"Really?" she exclaimed, looking rather curiously at his half-drooping member.

"I swear to clean after myself should that happen." He stood waiting in front of the bowl. But Ariadna would not move, and a rather naughty smirk peeked on her lips.

"Ah, very well," sighed Rose before pulling up the seat, and Ariadna watched with strange curiosity from the toilet's side as he positioned his cock and went about his business. She squealed and recoiled as to her bewilderment a pair of streams sprung, with one of them hurling to where she stood. Ariadna immediately laughed in shock.

"I am sorry, I really meant to save this from you," he nodded in an impression of gravity while clearly holding back a grin. "Now we definitely need to wash," he nodded in direction of the bath.

Ariadna laughed again, her heart lighter that she could remember it being. She stepped in the bath while Rose was cleaning, and she wished that they could take a soak but knew that between the sweat, fluids, and drops of dry blood in her pubic hair, there is too much that needs to be rinsed away. She stood under the showerhead and allowed the water to wash off her perspiration and the steam make her freckled skin flush.

Ariadna shuddered in a manner unrelated to temperature when a hand slid up her arm to her shoulder and then stroked her neck. Gerrard Rose's body pressed to hers under the stream, the water cascading off his head down to her, and her eyes closed with water flowing down her face. His hands started roaming up and down her body without reservations; she leaned against his chest, enabling his hands' exploration of her body - after all, it was already his.

Ariadna sighed as one hand caressed the side of her ribs and she let her head fall back on his clavicles, sheltered from direct spray, when the other groped her throat.

"You need to be washed, Flower," he announced softly in her ear.

"I do," she mumbled, and she felt the hand leave her chest to the bottle in the basket hanging from the showerhead's pipe. "Is my Sir going to wash his Flower?"

"Correct, and then my good girl will return the favour."

Ariadna bit her lip hard. "I will do anything my Sir tells me to. I am your good girl."

"Indeed, you are," he said as his hand left her throat to collect the soap he'd squirt in it. Her head though rested still on his chest.

Ariadna released a sigh as his soapy hands landed on the front of her shoulders and rubbed her soft skin - first in pretence of innocence, soaping her shoulders and arms, but soon they found their way to cup her perfect globes. She moaned as her Sir grabbed, weighed, and fondled them in his hands, his touch so light and tantalising. Soon there was no soap left on her skin, but still Rose was touching her, now mashing her mounds and rubbing her nipples with his open hands, bringing her to moaning.

"You are still dirty, Flower," he told her in a husky whisper, and she was fully inclined to believe him.

"I am, Sir... Please clean me..." she breathed with her eyes still closed.

"Do not worry, Flower, your Sir is going to take care of you and wash all your body..." he muttered as his arms were snaking around her waist to apply more soap into them with water rolling onto Ariadna off his looming head.

"Thank you, Sir... Ha-a-a-ahhh...!" Ariadna whined in delight as he washed with one hand round her toned navel region, whereas the soapy fingers of the other delicately scrubbed her pubic hair and slit.

"Yes, Sirrr... Please don't stop..." purred Ariadna. He didn't: the water has rinsed off the soap and mess about her flower, yet still Rose's fingers teased her most sensitive organ, still raw from its previous invasion; in the meantime, his other hand glided along her smooth skin to her soft, perked globes and mashed them, rubbing her rosy buds between his fingers. This was better than what Ariadna had fantasised, and she was meaning to live it to its full.

Ariadna pushed away from Rose's chest and spun under his touch to face him, and immediately her hands found his chest and she pulled him to her, his cock trapped between them. She craved the fire in his eyes, yet the water washed over her face.

"Here, Flower." The showerhead turned more directly down, so the water fell on her back and shoulders, and her eyes gulped up the thick lust bubbling in his while their hands explored each other's bodies.

After a moment she hummed, "Is it my turn to wash you, Sir?"

"It is, Flower." Ariadna took the soap and began applying it on her his skin. Her hands traced bubbles and foam along his arms and shoulders before rubbing against his chest and down to abdominal muscles in acute deliberateness.

Though entranced, her hands were steady as her lathered fingers felt his cock, trapped between their bodies, tracking the veins running along its rigid form. Rose sucked a steady breath in, and his hands roamed her neck and shoulders in encouraging caresses. Her obsessive desire was quickly augmenting, and both of Ariadna's hands wrapped around his shaft, polishing it in the water and gently wringing it under her rivetted gaze.

"Mngh! You are driving me crazy, Flower," he groaned, his head slumping momentarily on hers.

A thrill twirled in her tummy. "Am I doing a good job, Sir?" she insisted, peeking up to him from under her eyelids and the excitement glittering on her lips.

"Yes, Flower, your hands feel wonderful on my cock," he moaned, and his words elated her. She wanted to hear more of them.

With one hand still secured on his rod, Ariadna pushed half a step back, and then, with the water hitting her nape, she sank to her knees before him. The sparkling of the green embers that were his eyes was all it took for the thrill inside her to increase the tingle of her flower and egg her on further.

The fingers of both hands wrapped around the girth of her Sir and massaged it adoringly up and down, tightening at its soft head while wringing with care with the hand that was closer to its stem - and when she would, he would grunt and flinch in her hand.

"Am I hurting you, Sir?" she hesitated. "Do I do it wrong?"

"Not at all, Flower," he said, his voice rasping; "your fingers are just making it stir."

Ariadna was grinning in a flash. "Reallyyy? Huh, I think he really likes me, Sir." And she took him in her mouth before he could manage a retort.

Her Sir groaned loudly as he slid through her lips, sucked in a deep kiss, and across her thirsty tongue. The feeling was different from the night before, with his flavour fresh and clean - but still very much belonging to erotic him. Being wet from the shower, her Sir's member filled her mouth with ease and hardly any resistance, and Ariadna took it deep unto her throat sooner than last time. He was all ridges and solid knots while rubbing against her palate, and his girth squeezed against her tongue. Ariadna unsheathed him from her mouth with a pant and lathered its end with her tongue. His cock twitched and swelled against it. A thrill seared through Ariadna; she heard Rose groan with her, and she stuffed him back in her mouth.

His hand grabbed on her face and his thumb pressed on her cheek as it stroked her; he needn't use it to force himself deeper - Ariadna was bobbing on his rod as deep as her throat allowed.

"Ahhh, Flower... your mouth is paradise..." he muttered, his words inspiring her. "ARGH - fuck!" he groaned.

Ariadna jammed nearly his entire length in, the effort watering her eyes, before retracting it with a pant and a pleased smirk. She lifted her eyes, looking up to her Sir through heavy, tear-dotted eyelids, while slowly stroking his cock before her face. "I'm glad you like it, Sir..."

She leaned back in and took his rod in a kiss then slid it deep in her mouth. The shower stream abruptly stopped, and both his hands grabbed her face. He slipped out her mouth with a plop! and pulled her up to her feet. Her mouth, previously suckling on his dick, was at once assailed by his tongue as Rose's lips locked on hers. Unsteady by the erratic transition and his demanding mouth, Ariadna clung unto his shoulders and hungrily returned the kiss, her hands shifting to enfold his neck and her chest rising to rub against his.

Their lips separated for long enough for Rose to murmur, "The next time your mouth receives my cock, I want it to have your flower's taste on it."

His words were bellows for the furnace at the low of her tummy, and it was not the shower that soaked her flower then. She charged to devour his mouth, standing dangerously on her toes to wrap her arms round his neck and her globes mashed against his rigid chest. Her lips were rolling to rub against his thigh, but then he stepped out the bathtub; panting and holding his forearm, she leaped to the shower mat and renewed her charge, ravenously wrapping her arms around him again and her hips throbbing so hard against his legs that his arms were the only thing supporting her.

"AH!" she gasped when his hands grabbed her buttocks and thrusted her in the air. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and heaving, she took his face in her hand and eagerly sought his lips (curled in a smirk) with hers.

While his fingers clutching her rear curves and their tongues duel each other, Rose's hands lowered her body then slid her up.

"Oh gosh...!" she blurted shakily, her eyes popping open and dropping to view his dick snuggly wedged between them, rubbing along her sex. "Oh, Sir...!"

She could feel her flower blooming hot and soggy with mounting desire. Her hips, previously grinding against his torso, now rolled fervidly to meet his shaft as it was sawing between her labia along her bud. In a corner of her now barely rational mind, she marvelled at how steady Rose's grip of her was despite her thrashing.

The grinding of their sexes was growing so intense that the tender of bud was beginning to burn and drip with yearning and fluids. Ariadna could hardly catch her breath between that and her lips locked with her Sir's.

"Sir... I need it inside me..." she panted in a plea. "Take me, Sir... please..."

"Does my Flower want her Sir to fuck her pussy?" teased Rose.

"Yes, Sir... your Flower need her Sir badly... Please, take me to bed and-- and fuck me..."

"I think not, Flower." His words and stern voice shocked her, but then he spoke in a voice dripping lust: "I am not letting you go anywhere."

"AHH!" yelped Ariadna as her Sir spun and pressed her against the wall with his hands still holding her bottom in the air, and she gasped as he delved the edge of his dick into her pussy.

"Oh my gosh! Ahhhh...!" she cried and groaned while clinging unto him as in a measured, continuous motion, he sunk his entire cock into her.

"My dick fits so well in your pussy, Flower," he whispered in her ear. She could manage but a nod against his cheek as a reply, and he started to move inside her.

"Sir...!" she moaned as a thrill threw her head back, forcing her legs to clench him closer. "Oh gosh... oh my... ahh!"

She's never felt so consumed by lust. Unable to move away or even bear her own weight with her Sir gripping her over the floor and pressed to the wall, she was feeling completely overpowered, fully at the mercy of his pleasure... and his cock.

"Please, Sir... Please-please-please!" she rambled in a squeal. But he understood.

"As you wish, Flower."

"AGH! MMMNGH!" she cried and pressed him closer as he began hammering her pussy. He grunted and heaved against her skin as his hips drove against hers, and she moaned and cried unreservedly as his rod drilled and rubbed inside her tender flesh, polished by her flowing fluids. Her pussy throbbed and ached at the pounding and her breast bounced every time their bodies collided. The intense friction made her clit swell and burn as he was pistoning in and out of her, yet she craved more and more; she could barely catch a breath yet cried and whimpered all the same.

Before she knew it, her thighs were instinctively pulling together, and her hips were rolling to make his dick grind against the top of her pussy - "YES - SIR! YES! FUCK ME-E-AGH!" - she cried out at his every thrust while her pussy convulsed and her burning rosy bud prickled with electricity as the orgasm surged through her.

Still consumed with fiery lust, she was continuously whimpering while grinding back against his cock to drive harder her nearly-unbearably tender pussy against his rod. The intensity of their fucking and her orgasm coloured her red hair bronze with sweat and caused her pussy to trickle nectar, lathering it over her Sir's cock and package. The currents in Ariadna's raw and sore pussy were doubling as it clenched her Sir's dick harder while it was drilling it.

"Oh my gosh... oh my gosh! OH SIR!..." she screamed and spasms overtook her body with her pleasure spiking to incredulous new peaks as she was assailed by another climax.

Ariadna was crying and whimpering uncontrollably as the electricity she'd felt would not subside with her Sir still hammering her over-sensitive flower. Then, she was feeling Rose hardening and swelling inside her all the more and she clasped her arms and legs around his body tighter still.

"I am going to cum, Flower," her Sir panted. "Do you want it in your mouth?"

"No, cum inside me again!" she cried, begging. "Please, Sir, come inside my pussy! Cum inside your Flower!"

"Ah FUCK!" he groaned, and his pounding grew so intense in her sore pussy that it throbbed, causing her to squeal and whimper and her breast to shake violently. Then she felt him spasm and splash inside her, and her pussy gushed, full of his seed and his cock, buried as deep as to jab her belly.

Rose rested his sweat-dappled head on her chest and panted. "God, I love filling up your pussy, Flower... You are heaven."

She beamed whilst they both were gasping. "It's yours always, Sir... ah! Why then did you ask me if I wanted it in my mouth?" she muttered, stroking his head.

Rose's green eyes met hers and he chuckled while adjusting his hands. "See, my gentlemanly side thought you might have had enough mess to deal with for one day."

She made a surprise sound. "Sir, please let me worry about my cleanliness. I'm yours to use and fuck however you want;" she said as if lecturing on some common knowledge, "just focus on that, Sir."

He turned his mouth to her throat while snickering softly. She shuddered at his breath and nibbled on her lip. Suddenly she whined in a startle as he withdrew completely from her pussy and placed her on her knees before his dripping shaft, tapping on her parted lips with it.

"I can do that, Flower."

She took his bat in both hand and looked up to him with a delighted grin from underneath it. "Maybe you should pick me a new name, Sir, now that you've deflowered me twice."

She chortled and leaned in with her mouth open for his cock, but Rose abruptly grabbed her face and bent it up before she did.

The green in his eyes burned in unfathomable fire, angry and severe.

"No-one can ever de-flower you, Flower," he snarled.

Ariadna flinched at the sudden possessive defiance, but her heart glowed with so much emotion that tears threatened to well in her eyes. Inside her tummy, something deep and slow fluttered, too hot and powerful to be butterflies. A phoenix, perhaps.

She pouted and bit her lower lip as she nodded, then said, utterly assured, "Yes, Sir. I'm your Flower, only and completely yours."

He groaned even before her lips wrapped on his cum- and nectar-dripping cock.