Best and Brightest
Episode 5

Copyright© 2004 by Vulgar Argot

Erotica Sex Story: Episode 5 - Nuria hasn't been a teacher in a long time, but the impressions she made when she was have been lasting and deep. When she runs into two of her former students, she discovers that old impressions and old crushes both die hard.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Light Bond   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Slow  

Nuria drowsed in Quentin's arms for a while, letting herself be pet and stroked. She was nearly asleep when Quentin said, "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"Mmm," she murmured drowsily. "Sleep here. Like a campout."

Quentin chuckled, "The fire's already banked. Once it burns down, it's going to get cold in here without blankets. And besides, the rug is drenched in sweat."

Nuria sat up a little, "Yeah. I guess we are, too."

Quentin stretched, "Stay here for a minute. I'll get you a robe."

Nuria lay and stared at the fire, which had indeed burned low. Next to the fireplace was a small pyramid of firewood. Next to it was a box, recessed into the wall, where Quentin had gotten the synthetic "log" that now lay on the hearth.

Quentin came back, holding an embroidered red kimono out to her. Nuria rose and backed into it, letting Quentin dress her. The silk against her skin was like a lover's touch.

"The bathroom is warming up now," he said. "Come into the dressing room. You can pick out some clothes."

Nuria followed him through a door into a room that was really more of an enormous, walk-in closet. One long wall was covered with his clothes on hangers. The other wall was empty. In between the walls, a long rack of women's clothes had been wheeled in.

Nuria's eyes widened, "Quentin, what is this?"

Quentin smiled, "The service must have let Penny do the shopping for you. She can be a bit enthusiastic sometimes."

Nuria looked down the row, "Quentin, this is more clothes than I've ever owned at one time."

Quentin shrugged, "Anything you don't want, I can have them come by and pick up."

Feeling a little bit faint, Nuria leaned back against him, "I don't think I can take any of it."

Quentin wrapped his arms around her, "Does that mean you don't like the robe, either?" As he spoke, his hands started to untie the belt that held her kimono shut.

Nuria caught his wrists weakly, "I... the robe is lovely. And, I would be cold without it."

"Well, then," said Quentin, detaching from her and walking over to the clothing rack, "you'll need something to sleep in, too." He pulled a hanger off the rack revealing a pair of emerald green silk pajamas."

Nuria laughed, "Quentin, I swear you are the devil incarnate. What are the odds you'd let me keep them on until morning anyway?"

"Well," admitted Quentin. "I would probably let you put them back on before morning."

"Quentin, it's just too much. I would feel like..." her words trailed off.

"Like what?" Quentin asked, coming back to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her to him. "Like a princess?"

Nuria laid her head on his chest. Her voice trembled when she spoke, "Like a whore."

Quentin hugged her tighter, "Not at all like a princess?"

Nuria sniffled and laughed, fighting back tears, "Well, a little bit like a princess, too."

Quentin looked down at her, "Well, my princess, you may be surprised to learn that I rarely get to use what I have to make myself happy. You can fight me on the gifts and, after a long and exasperating battle of wills that will do neither of us any good, I might even relent. Or, you could just let me give you gifts and know that I'm doing it because it makes me happy."

Nuria looked at the rack of clothes again. She rubbed against Quentin a little to feel the silk slide past her nipples. Then, she closed her eyes and said, "My mother would never approve."

Quentin sighed, "Nuria. I..."

Nuria put a finger to his lips, "You misunderstand me, Quentin. That was me talking myself into it. If it will make you happy, I'll accept your gifts. Only, I wish you wouldn't spend quite so much."

Quentin's body started to shake and, for a moment, Nuria wasn't sure it was with laughter or tears. But, the nearly-muffled chuckles that followed were unmistakable.

"Quentin, what's funny?"

Quentin kissed the top of her head, "Nuria, you don't ever have to worry about my money. When they decided to make the first book into a movie, I set up a fund so that, even if I never sold another book, I would never have to worry about money again. I make sure that a percentage of everything I make goes into that fund. I could live very well off of that fund for the rest of my life if I needed to. So could my children, should I ever choose to have any."

Nuria smiled, "Is that why you're willing to take a chance with the new book?"

Quentin laughed, "Make no mistake, Nuria. I may not be crazy about every aspect of success, but I do know that I prefer it over failure. This is the book I want to write, but one of the reasons that I want it is because I'm trying to declare my independence from Perihelion. I signed a contract with them before I was established and they're making a mint off of it now. They also have too much editorial control. Writing this book was a win-win situation for me. Perihelion would either take a pass on it or be forced to acknowledge that I can write whatever I damned well please."

"Read 'A Brother to Dragons, ' when you get a chance. It may have started out as the breakaway novel, but it's actually turning into the kind of story that Hollywood eats up. But, if we make a movie from it, we're making it under my terms. I'm going to be like George Lucas, just without Jar Jar Binks."

"Without who?" Nuria asked.

Quentin laughed, "You don't get out to the movies much, do you?"

Nuria shook her head, "It wasn't really in the budget."

Quentin gave her a crooked half-smile, "Come on. I'm sure the bathroom is warmed up by now."

Nuria took the hanger from his hand as she went by.

-=-

Quentin behaved himself in the shower nearly as well as Pearl had earlier in the day. His hands never seemed to leave Nuria's body for more than a few seconds. When they got out, he was very thorough in drying her off. All of the attention had her body humming for another round.

"It's about ten o'clock," said Quentin. "Are you up for a movie?"

Nuria was pulling on the pajamas. After protesting that she didn't want to feel like a whore, she found herself unwilling to say what she was really up for. So, she said, "It's not too long, is it?"

"Nope," said Quentin, "and it's not a school night."

"Okay," said Nuria.

"Cool," said Quentin. "Would you like to retire to the viewing room to watch it or just cuddle up under the covers?"

"Mmmm," said Nuria. "Cuddling sounds nice."

A few minutes later, they were lying in bed together. Quentin had produced a high-tech looking remote control from the bedside table and was pressing its screen in rapid, practiced movement. After pressing enough on-screen buttons to have typed a letter, the TV screen on the wall sprung into life. Nuria had mistaken the screen for a print earlier, not realizing that the bucolic scene it showed was only a projection.

After a few seconds of a blue screen that announced that a movie was being accessed, the opening scroll of Star Wars, Episode I started. Quentin provided a running commentary that managed to be mostly unobtrusive.

At least, it was unobtrusive until Jar-Jar Binks showed up on screen. Then, he said, "This is where Lucas lost it and, in the process, lost a lot of his old fan-base."

Nuria watched for a little while, then said, "He is rather obnoxious, isn't he?"

"He's worse than obnoxious," said Quentin. "He's like a combination of Barney and Stepin Fetchit."

"Who's Stepin Fetchit?" asked Nuria.

Quentin launched into an explanation of the career of actor Stepin Fetchit, who he said played the "lovable, black bumpkin" from the 1930s to the 1950s. After a minute, he interrupted himself to pause the TV, saying, "I want you to see this part." Then, he went on to talk about the way Hollywood had co-opted the minstrel tradition to fulfill its own agenda. In the five-minute lecture, he mentioned more than two dozen film titles, actors, and actresses that Nuria had never heard of.

Nuria found herself grinning in the semi-darkness. Sometimes, Quentin was so serious that she almost couldn't see the boy she'd known so long ago. At times like this, the boy clearly showed through. His enthusiasm was infectious and led Nuria to ask a few questions that roughly doubled the length of the discussion.

Nuria discovered that she was actually looking forward to seeing the rest of the movie now, but still had to ask, "You know, from the way you talked earlier, I would have thought you hated movies. But, you seem to know an awful lot about them."

"I love movies," said Quentin. "I used to dream that somebody would make a movie out of one of my books. It's the particular movies that they made. They're so close to being faithful to the books, but completely Disneyfy the themes. Queen Rayeth has a speech in the middle of the first book about the order of preference in states of being as independence, interdependence, dependence, and failure. It was even in the original script, but got cut as 'too wordy.' It really got cut because it didn't fit the story any more. The message of the movie is that the best state in the world is the weird sort of co-dependence that Princess Malena and John Brubaker have. In the books, they're two very competent and independent people that initially don't like, but respect each other. In the movies, they're more like Han Solo and Princess Leia. They squabble, but you know that, deep down, they have the hots for each other. And, they're constantly saving each other from situations that I initially wrote them as saving themselves from."

Quentin took a deep breath and laughed, "Of course, authors hating what Hollywood has done to their books is hardly news. And, I want you to see this part." He restarted the movie.

At some point during the movie, Nuria reached up and absent-mindedly rubbed the back of her neck. Quentin paused the movie again, "Come here."

Nuria looked at him, surprised, "Didn't you want to watch the rest of the movie?"

Quentin laughed, "This we can do while we watch the movie. Come sit between my legs, facing the foot of the bed."

Nuria did as he had asked. After restarting the movie, he laid his hands on her shoulders, about an inch away from her neck on either side and began to rub her in small, tight circles, his touch initially feather-light, but gradually more aggressive. As he worked, he continued his unobtrusive running commentary.

"Quentin," Nuria asked after a few minutes of this treatment, "am I supposed to be able to pay attention to the movie like this?"

Quentin nodded against the top of her head, "That's why I didn't suggest you take off your top. Besides, I'm being gentle."

Nuria let out a little moan of release as Quentin homed in on a particularly tense spot.

"I could stop if you like," Quentin said, chuckling throatily.

Nuria let out a relaxed sigh, "No. That won't be necessary."

"So, you like?" Nuria could almost hear Quentin leering behind her.

Nuria nodded, "I think you and Pearl should compare notes."

Because she was pressed against him, back to torso, Nuria felt Quentin stiffen a little in arousal. At the same time, he lost the rhythm of his rubbing, then found it again. She probably wouldn't have even noticed the slip if she weren't pressed against him.

Nuria smiled to herself. If the idea of Pearl rubbing her neck could get Quentin worked up, she'd better not tell him the rest. She might kill the poor boy. Experimentally, she wriggled her bottom against him and felt an even stronger response. This time, Quentin didn't falter in working her back. His self-control intrigued Nuria, but she also considered it a challenge. Slowly and subtly, she began to grind against him, trying not to make her actions so obvious that Quentin would have to comment on any particular motion as being overt. As Nuria wiggled, Quentin stiffened until he was rock hard, but didn't break pace with the rubbing or stop talking about the movie.

As the credits rolled, Nuria looked back at Quentin, disappointed that she hadn't been able to distract him. Then, she saw the look of intense concentration on his face. Leaning back into his chest, she felt how taut his muscles were and realized that his composure was an act of intense self-control.

Emboldened, Nuria reached back and stroked the back of Quentin's neck. "So," she asked throatily, "do you want to watch another movie?"

In response, Quentin wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her a little bit off of the bed, then flung her forward, keeping his arm around her so that he fell on top of her. Crouching menacingly, he growled, "You are such a tease."

Nuria panted under the weight of him and the feel of his body through two layers of silk, "I am not." She protested.

Quentin's hands were on the waistband of her pants, gripping it like he was about to pull them off, "And what do you call what you just did?"

"Not teasing," said Nuria. "Teases don't put out. That was more of a promise."

Quentin did as his hands had threatened, shucking Nuria's pants in a single motion that left her naked from the waist down. Nuria squealed in mock protest, but was laughing too.

"I am going to fuck you so hard," Quentin growled in her ear, his voice quavering a little.

"Brute," Nuria said, her voice teasing. "Do you think that dinner and a movie..."

She didn't get to finish the thought. Quentin's cock was already pressed against her, demanding entry.

Nuria thought she wasn't primed, but opened her legs and braced herself for a rough entry. Instead, she realized that she was already wet enough to take the first thrust with only the slightest of pulling. My the third or fourth stroke, Quentin was driving into her in long, easy strokes.

"God," she moaned. "You're an animal."

"I got... the sense..." Quentin said between thrusts, "that you liked it that way."

Nuria nodded emphatically, too overcome and winded to respond in words. Without breaking his stride, Quentin caught her wrists, one in each hand, and drew them together over her head. Nuria moaned in pleasure and approval.

After Quentin transferred her wrists to one hand, Nuria felt him wrap the belt from his robe around them and tie it in an overhand knot.

Momentarily, Quentin stopped his thrusting, staying sheathed inside of her. His chuckle was pure wickedness, "So, my beauty. What happens next?"

"I'm at your mercy," Nuria pointed at. "I think that's pretty much up to you."

Quentin pulled her wrists up above her head, securing them to the wooden slats at the foot of the bed. Nuria moaned as he shifted his weight, moving inside her.

Quentin wrapped his arm around her waist again, lifting her up a little. With his other hand, he unbuttoned her pajama top, rubbing the shaft of his cock back and forth between her legs so that it held her open the tiniest bit, making delicate contact with the sensitive skin inside. Quentin seemed to relish the act, going very slowly. When she was completely unbuttoned, he pulled the shirt over her head, turning it inside out until it hung over the end of the bed by Nuria's wrists.

"You know," he purred, "you have a really beautiful ass. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Nuria managed to chuckle, "Not since... not in a few years."

"And I do have you at my mercy," Quentin pointed out.

"Oh, God," Nuria moaned in anticipation.

Quentin pressed the head of his cock against the rosebud of her ass. He held it there for just a few seconds before sliding into her, slowly, but steadily. Nuria spread her legs and moaned her appreciation.

It didn't take long for Nuria to be overcome with pleasure, her climax bursting across the insides of her eyelids like fireworks. She lost track of time, the pleasure ebbing and flowing around her through a second and third orgasm before Quentin finally erupted inside her.

As he rolled off her, Nuria tried to roll towards him, to nuzzle into his chest. She found that she had pulled so hard against her silken bond that she'd distressed the weave and made the knot into a permanent fixture.

"Quentin, I don't think I can get out of this."

"I know, dear. That's rather the point."

Nuria contemplated this for a moment. She'd never actually been bound in a way that she couldn't get herself out of before. Pete had been willing to tie her up after a year of hints and coaxing, but it had been infrequent and, ultimately, symbolic. Quentin, on the other hand, had done it without coaxing and done it in such a way that Nuria was genuinely at his mercy.

Nuria decided that she didn't have much to lose by playing the fantasy out farther, "Please, master," she asked demurely, "would you please untie me?"

Quentin laughed, rolling so that he was up on one elbow, watching her. His eyes traced up and down her body.

"Well, Miss Delgado," he asked. "What's in it for me?"

Nuria rolled to face him, "Anything you ask."

Quentin chuckled wickedly, "Anything?"

Nuria shivered and said, "Anything that is mine to give."

Quentin didn't answer for so long that Nuria thought she'd gone too far and ruined something. When he spoke, he said calmly, "Let me spoil you."

"What?"

Quentin smiled, "I've only got two weeks before I have to go away. For that time, let me spoil you. You may protest any gift I give you if you don't like it or if it offends your sensibilities. But, I don't want to hear one word of protest that I'm being too extravagant."

"I..." Nuria started to protest, but stopped. If she objected now, the fantasy would be over. A chill ran over her body and she had to swallow before speaking again, "I thought you were going to ask for something easy, like sex."

Quentin laughed, "Do I need to tie you up for sex?"

Nuria shook her head.

"Will you do this thing for me?"

Nuria nodded, a tear coming to her eye, "If that's what you want."

Quentin cradled her chin, "Is it really that hard for you?"

Nuria nodded.

"Because it makes you feel like a whore?"

Another nod.

"So," said Quentin, "is that really such a bad thing to be?"

"It's not... It's not how I think of myself."

"But, is it so bad?"

"Quentin," Nuria said, wriggling, "this is starting to cut off my circulation."

Quentin rose, went into the bathroom, and came back moments later with a scissor.

"Roll over," he said, "on your back."

Doing so made the belt bite more deeply into Nuria's wrists, but it was only a moment before Quentin cut the restraint, releasing her. Nuria brought her wrists down, rubbing them.

Quentin, who was now straddling her stomach took one of her wrists, rubbed it and asked, "So, is it so bad to be a whore?"

Nuria nodded, "I was raised to think it was the worst thing in the world to be. Well, that or a Protestant."

"So, are you refusing or talking yourself into it?" Quentin asked, grinning.

Nuria turned her head to break eye contact, "If you want, I'll be your whore, master."

Quentin leaned down, pushing Nuria's wrists above her head as he descended to kiss her mouth, "And cut out the 'master' stuff." Then, seeing the disappointment in her eyes, he added, "Just call me 'Quentin' in the same voice you would say 'master' in and I'll know what you mean."

Nuria found herself tearing up again. Quentin looked down at her, "Nuria, what's the matter?"

For a moment, Nuria couldn't answer. Quentin slid down her legs and gathered her into his arms, pressing her head to his chest.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?"

Finally, Nuria managed to choke out, "Quentin, I'm scared."

Quentin hugged her, "Of what?"

"Of you," she whispered in his ear. "Quentin, I've never been like this with anyone. I've wanted to, but even Pete didn't understand me well enough to be... like this. How did you know?"

Quentin leaned down to kiss away her tears, "I didn't. I just decided to push for what I wanted until you said 'stop.' So far, you haven't."

"Quentin," Nuria hugged herself to his chest, "be good to me."

Quentin hugged her even more fiercely, crushing some of the breath out of her, "I will, Nuria. I promise."

-=-

Nuria left early the next day. She was reluctant to go; Quentin was reluctant to let her. But, she had so much to do for the next day, it was starting to make her crazy. Still, she waited for the last possible minute she felt that she could to leave.

When she got home, both of her roommates were in the living room watching football. As soon as Nuria walked in, they both looked up.

"Oh my God, Miss D," said Carla. "There you are. I can't believe you left yesterday without tellin' me nothin'."

"Well," said Nuria. "Now, I have more to tell."

She hadn't scheduled for this, but Nuria knew there would be no getting out of it. She sat in the overstuffed chair and told them about the events of the previous two days, leaving out most of the prurient details. After a thorough grilling by both Pearl and Carla, Nuria gave out far more details than she was comfortable doing. She managed not to mention any of the role play, though.

"Wow," said Carla finally, "I need a man like that. Does he have a brother?"

Nuria shook her head, "Two older sisters. I taught both of them."

Carla shrugged, "They'd do in a pinch."

"So," asked Nuria casually, "how's Emil?"

Pearl favored Nuria with a little smirk as Carla launched into a long spiel on how wonderful Emil was as if to say, "I caught you changing the subject." But, a few minutes later, she was asking a question that led Carla into another long speech.

-=-

Nuria managed to escape to her room around three thirty. She got about two hours into reading when Pearl knocked on the door.

"Nuria, honey. There's a delivery you need to sign for."

Nuria came out into the living room to find a woman with a clipboard waiting for her while a well-muscled man in a gray uniform wheeled in a dolly loaded with department store garment boxes.

"What is this?" Nuria asked, even though she had a sinking feeling that she already knew.

The woman with the clipboard smiled, "Mr. Edwards asked us to bring these over. He said you didn't have time to go through them yet."

"He sent over all the clothes?" Nuria asked, starting to feel overwhelmed.

 
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