Page 29 of Lessons in Touch

She pouts. I can tell that she doesn’t like my rejection. But she’s still trying to entice me.

“Come on, Gabriel. I’m not like the others. I know what I want, and I see how you look at me.”

“I look at you as a student. I have no idea what you think you’re seeing. And please, don’t call me Gabriel. It is Professor Thorn. There is nothing else to discuss. You should go.”

Cassandra hesitates. Her confidence is cracking, but she refuses to take my “no” for an answer.

“You’re too quick to dismiss me, Gabriel. Think about it. The Thorns and the Vanes are two of the oldest and richest families in America. We’d be unstoppable together.”

“I’m not looking for a wife, Cassandra. And definitely not one who is interested in such superficial things like family names.”

“Come on, Gabriel... Our families align perfectly. We have wealth, influence, and a long history. I’d complement you, in every way that matters.”

“My family’s history doesn’t dictate my choices, Cassandra. I’m not interested in alliances, personal or otherwise.”

Her eyes narrow, showing a flicker of frustration.

“You cannot be serious, Gabriel! Most men would jump at the chance of being with me. The Vanes are a legacy, just like the Thorns. We belong together.”

I can feel my patience thinning.

“I decide who belongs in my life, Miss Vane. And it’s definitely not you.”

She crosses her arms and pouts again like a little girl.

“You’re making a mistake. I’m offering you power, status, everything a man like you deserves. Plus, I’m offering you—me. Don’t you know who I am? Or what do I look like? Are you blind??” she says, rudely.

“I don’t need what you’re offering. And I am not interested in what you look like. My ambitions don’t include you, Cassandra.”

“Right… Look, Gabriel, I have no idea why you’re holding out on me. Maybe you’re tired or… who knows? But I know for a fact that you want me. All the men want me. All of them.”

“Well, then, you’re a very lucky girl,” I reply sarcastically, and turn back to my notes. “Leave, Cassandra. Now.”

She lingers for just a moment longer and then, without another word, leaves.

God, maybe Rose is right after all. Our world is much weirder than it seems.

***

The costume room of the theatre department at Wolfswood Institute is a cavernous space filled with racks of capes and satin gowns. There are hundreds of dresses lined up against the walls, like ghosts or spectres.

This is the place I chose for tonight’s lesson with Rose. A lesson about control, vulnerability, and power. Although I know it’s a risk, my need to be with her is stronger than my caution.

I walk toward the light panel at the back of the room and turn on just a few spotlights. As if on cue in a theatre play, Rose comes in. She’s dressed in a dark blue woolen dress, shorter and tighter than anything I’ve seen her wear before. Her generousbreasts sway as she walks toward me, and I can see that she’s not wearing a bra. It’s making her tits jiggle invitingly. Her nipples are hard and very visible as they rub against the wool of the dress. The sight makes my mouth water.

Her eyes are nervous but determined, and I see the flush of arousal in her cheeks. It’s mirroring my own desire.

“I came, Professor, like you wanted,” she smiles at me.

“Not yet, Rose,” I reply, and she blushes. She understood what I meant. “But, if you’re a good girl, this evening I might let you cum.”

She pulls her dress down a little and tries to cover her thighs better. But it only serves to make the dress tighter and accentuates her incredible breasts.

“What do you want to teach me, Professor?” she asks.

“Tonight, we explore control, Rose. Are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m ready for… whatever you have planned for me. For us.”