Page 156 of Twisted Ties
“You aren’t coming in?” she asks.
“No,” I tell her, picking up the sponge from the shelf and running it softly over her face, wiping away the mud and the grime.
“I could do it myself,” she says.
“I want to do it, Rhianna, so don’t be a brat for once and let me.”
She shrugs her shoulders and leans back her head allowing me to trace the sponge over her shoulders. Then I reach into the bath, lifting each of her arms in turn and sliding the sponge across her skin. When I’m satisfied, I reach up on my knees and plunge my arms into the water, caressing her chest, her soft tits and her stomach next, wiping away all that mud.
“Lift your leg,” I tell her, and with her eyes still closed, she raises her left. I tickle the sponge over her foot, a smile appearing on her lips, and then I glide the sponge up her long legs, all the way up the soft skin on her thighs.
“Now the other one too, sweetheart.” She lowers her leg and lifts her right and I repeat my care.
When I’m done, she peeks open one eye.
“Aren’t you cleaning any higher, Professor?” she asks. “You’re always saying we should complete our work thoroughly.” She grins, lowering her voice in an attempt to emulate mine. “No cutting corners.” She frowns and wags her forefinger at me.
“Well, Miss Blackwaters, if that’s what I said, I’d better live by my words. Wouldn’t want to gain a reputation for being less than liberal with the truth now, would I?”
“You? Liberal with the truth? Never! You’re an epitome of rule-following and respect.”
“Exactly. You’d certainly never catch me stripping the clothes off my most bratty student and touching her,” I run my knuckles up her thigh, finding her pussy, “here.”
She sighs. “That would most definitely be considered scandalous.”
“And very naughty,” I growl against her ear. “Especially if that naughty, bratty student let me touch her there, especially if she opened her legs when I told her: part your thighs for me, Miss Blackwaters.”
“I’m not sure such a bratty student would do as she was told.”
“Oh, she would,” I say, stroking along her seam, “when she knew how good I’d make her feel.” I use my magic to make the water vibrate against her and, with an even louder sigh, her legs fall open. “See,” I say, “just like that.”
I explore her more intimately, finding her entrance and circling it, then her clit and pressing against it.
I sweep my tongue around her earlobe, then plunge my tongue into her earhole, mirroring the actions with my fingers and making her gasp.
Water splashes against the sides of the bath as she raises her hips in an attempt to grind against my fingers.
“Such a brat. Such a needy brat,” I say, pumping my fingers in and out of her and watching as her body writhes in the water. “Such a goddamn beautiful, fucking irresistible brat.” She moans and I think she likes my words as much as she likes my fingers. “Would you like your professor to make you come?”
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Manners, Miss Blackwaters,” I say, using my magic to have the water sparking against her clit again. A promise of what’s coming if she plays nice.
Her body jolts. But when I cut my magic, she frowns.
“Come on, sweetheart. Use your manners and I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”
“Yes …” she hesitates, catching her breath, “yes, please. Please make me come, Professor.”
“That’s better,” I say, rewarding her with a kiss to her shoulder.
I reignite my magic, using it to thrum the water against her clit.
“Is this how you used to get yourself off, Miss Blackwaters? In that shack of a house of yours, all alone in the woods. Did you touch yourself and make yourself come in the bath?”
“In the shower,” she confesses.
I can see the picture of it in her mind, running the flow from the shower-head over her clit and making herself come.
