Chapter 2: Private lessons with Professor Renata

My pen trembled as I handed in my assignment. The pages felt heavy with my secret thoughts. I'd poured my deepest desires into that story – clear pictures of the heat inside me when I watched my friends in their soft dresses, or saw them in the showers, their bodies wet and shiny. I was nineteen, a tomboy, but I hungered for lace and curves. I'd never acted on it. Until now.

Professor Renata's voice pulled me back. "Violet, a word?" Her voice was smooth, like velvet. My stomach flipped. She stood at the front, dark curls falling over her shoulders. Her blouse hugged her full breasts, making my mouth dry. She was in her thirties, everything I wasn't – poised, sure of herself, her hips swaying with each step. For weeks, I'd stolen glances at her, picturing her in the suspenders and G-strings I wrote about.

I walked to her desk, my sneakers scraping the floor. "Is something wrong with my paper?" My voice was shaky.

Renata's lips curved into a smile, her brown eyes shining with something I couldn't quite name. "No, the opposite. Your writing is... powerful. Brave. I love erotic books myself, and I'd like to talk more about it. Are you free this weekend? Come to my place Saturday at seven."

My heart hammered. Was this a test? A trick? Or something else? "Sure," I managed, my voice catching. She gave me a slip of paper with her address. Her fingers brushed mine, sending a spark through my skin.

"See you then, Violet," she purred. I was already lost.

Saturday night, I stood outside Renata’s house. It was a modern, two-story home with sleek windows and a soft light glowing inside. My black dress hugged my body, a mix of my usual jeans and the feminine look I craved. I rang the bell, my pulse pounding.

Renata opened the door. My breath caught. She wore a silk blouse that showed the curve of her breasts. Her jeans fit her hips perfectly. Her hair was loose, a dark cloud around her face. "Violet, you look amazing," she said, her voice warm, pulling me inside.

The house was soft with dim lights and deep, comfy furniture, a cozy space. "Let me introduce my husband, Marcus," Renata said, leading me to the living room.

Marcus stood from the sofa. He was a wall of muscle in a shirt that pulled tight across his wide chest. His dark skin gleamed under the light. His smile was both friendly and exciting. "Nice to meet you, Violet," he said. His handshake was firm, his hazel eyes staying on me for a moment.

We sat on the sofa. Renata sat between us, pouring red wine that smelled of berries and spice. "So, Violet," she began, her thigh touching mine, "what makes you write like that? Your story was... real. It felt like you were writing about someone specific."

I took a sip, the wine warm in my throat. "I guess... desires I haven't tried. Things I imagine but haven't done." My cheeks burned, but her gaze held me, urging me on.

Marcus leaned forward, his voice low. "We're open-minded about desires. Life's too short to hold back, don't you think?"

The air grew thick, charged with something new. Renata's hand touched my arm, light but clear. "Your story mentioned a couple," she said, her lips close to my ear. "Is that something you think about?"

I nodded, unable to speak. Her perfume—jasmine and musk—surrounded me. Marcus's knee nudged mine, a soft signal. We talked about books, but every word felt like a slow dance, every look a promise.

Renata stood, her shape beautiful. "Let's go to the hot tub. It's perfect tonight."

My stomach fluttered, but I followed them to a guest room to change. My simple bikini felt plain next to Renata’s – a tiny red one that barely held her breasts. Her nipples pushed against the cloth. Marcus's swim trunks hugged his strong thighs, hinting at his power. I saw myself in the mirror – my own breasts full, my shaved skin tingling. A rush of confidence filled me.

The hot tub bubbled under the stars. Steam rose as we sank into the warm water. Renata sat close, her shoulder brushing mine, her skin soft and warm. Marcus was across from me, his gaze intense, his knee touching mine under the water. The jets pressed against my back, matching the throb between my legs.

"You have such beautiful eyes, Violet," Renata said, her voice a low purr. Her fingers traced my arm. The touch sent heat swirling through me.

Marcus's hand found my knee, his fingers firm. "We've been talking about you," he said, his voice rough. "And we know what you were trying to say in your writing."

My breath caught. This was my fantasy, happening now. "You do?" I whispered, my voice shaking with need.

Renata leaned in, her lips brushing mine, soft at first, then hungry. I kissed her back, tasting wine and desire. My hands found her waist. Marcus's hand slid higher, touching my thigh. I moaned into Renata’s mouth, the sound swallowed by her kiss.

"Let's go inside," Renata whispered, her eyes dark with promise. We climbed out, water dripping from our bodies. We shared towels close to each other, the air alive. Marcus's warm body pressed against my back as Renata led me to their bedroom, a soft haven of silk sheets and dim light.

Renata gently pushed me onto the bed. Her body moved over mine, her breasts heavy against my chest. I reached for her, my fingers brushing her nipples, hard and inviting through her bikini top. She gasped, her lips finding my neck, her teeth lightly biting my skin.

Marcus knelt beside us, his hands moving over my body. He untied my bikini quickly, his lips claiming mine in a kiss that was all heat and demand. Renata’s hands slid down my body, pulling off the cloth, showing my shaved vulva, my lips swollen with need.

I was caught between them, just as I’d dreamed. Renata’s mouth found my breasts, sucking and biting gently. Her tongue circled my large nipples until I arched my back beneath her. Marcus moved behind me, his hands holding my hips, his penis hard against my thigh. "Ready?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," I gasped. He entered me, slow and deep, filling me with a stretch that made me gasp in pleasure. Renata’s fingers found my clit, rubbing in circles. Her touch was like electricity. I cried out, my body shaking as pleasure built, wave after wave.

They didn’t stop. Renata moved lower, her mouth taking the place of her fingers. Her tongue probed my sensitive flesh, licking and sucking until I was shaking. Marcus’s thrusts grew faster, his hands tight on my hips. His groans mixed with mine.

Then we shifted. Renata lay back, her legs spread. Her vulva shone. I knelt between her thighs, my tongue exploring her, tasting her sweetness—earthy, thrilling. Marcus entered her from behind, his penis sliding into her. I watched, fascinated, as he moved, his rhythm steady and strong.

My fingers found my own clit, circling as I licked Renata. Her moans pushed me on. Marcus’s eyes met mine, dark with lust. I felt the connection, the three of us bound in this moment. Renata’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as she came, her cries sharp and raw.

Marcus followed, his thrusts stopping as he groaned. I pushed myself over the edge, my own orgasm crashing through me. We collapsed together, a tangle of arms and legs and sweat, our breaths heavy in the quiet room.

Renata kissed my forehead, her lips soft. "One more round," she whispered.

To be continued…