Is the Subject Art? — Living with Honey and Anne, Episode 10b
Art class is over. It’s extracurricular time. Miss Winters takes it to another level for a private audience.
Continued from Is the Subject Art Part a
I wasn’t sure how many girls left, but I thought it was more than two. Yet here are four easels and I see four pair of feet behind them. They are set lower and have chairs behind them.
Miss Winters sat forward on the office chair and said, “As I mentioned, the class is over; this is an unofficial, extracurricular activity. However, the rules stay the same. The artists are to stay behind the easels. Only I am permitted between the desk and easels. And I will be giving the direction. Are you still alright with this arrangement?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Great. Please climb back up on the desk for us.” She walked to the door and dimmed the lights to half as I made my way back up the steps.
“We are going to begin with a little striptease. May I ask you to unbutton your cuffs and slowly remove your shirt?” I did as asked, swinging the shirt over my head playfully and tossing it toward the door.
Miss Winters leaned back in the chair and kicked off her shoes to get my attention. As I played with my dress shirt, she sat forward and crossed her legs. She let her toes slide down the outside of her leg playfully, making sure my eyes were where she wanted them.
“Very nice. Now slowly unbuckle your belt and pull it from all the loops. Good; drop it over there and open your trousers,” she said as she leaned back and hiked her skirt so her buttocks were on the soft cool leather.
“Now take off that damp t-shirt and let me see the real sculpture of your chest.” She sat forward again. This time she ran her fingers over the tops of her stockings, down her thighs, past her knees and stopped. Catching my eyes again, she said, “Huh, I thought I saw something.”
“All right, let’s get down to business. Let your trousers fall to your ankles and take a seat.” As they fell away, I saw her eyes fix on my growing erection. “Yes, now we are getting somewhere. Are you still okay up there?” she asked as she walked to the windows and fully closed the drapes. I think she caught me trying to see who was behind the easels in the reflection.
As she came back to the desk, she reached into a bag and brought up some accessories.
She returned to the chair in front of me, flipped back her skirt and sat right at the front edge. “I hear you are familiar with these items. Would you mind demonstrating for me? How about starting with those clothespins on your nipples, hmm?”
I picked up the clothespins and clamped them on, wincing as I placed each one. I heard “Mmmm” from around the room, not just from Miss Winters.
“Mmmm-mmm. Now I would like you to play with yourself through those silk boxers. I want to see you rock hard for me.” She leaned in watching intently as I began moving my fingertips along the length of my cock and around the head. “Lean back and close your eyes and imagine someone new touching you.”
As I leaned back and closed my eyes the only image I could conjure was hers. I continued the light touching and was aware of my testicles swimming below my cock. Then I felt something cool moving up my leg. It felt like the tip of Miss Winter’s pointer. It made its way behind my shorts and glanced off my scrotum on the way toward my perineum. She tickled me as the blood fully engorged my penis.
“Mmmm-mmm. Good job. You may open your eyes now if you want. How does that feel?” she asked.
I opened my eyes and noticed the easels had been turned a bit to allow the ‘artists’ a better view. “It feels great. I like that tickling sensation down there.”
“Good. I’m planning more sensations for you down there. Are you ready for a change?” she said as she withdrew the pointer from my shorts.
“Okay. What now?”
“If you want, you can remove the clothespins and set them on the desk. I would like you to stand and slowly pull down those shorts, let them drop to your ankles then sit back down.”
I took the clothespins off my nipples. I felt almost as much pain as when I first put them on. After I dropped my shorts, I sat as instructed.
Miss Winters raised her pointer and tapped between my knees to get me to open my legs. Then she slid the pointer under a long athletic shoelace that was on the desk and flipped it up onto my belly and said, “I would like you to use this string to separate your cock and balls. I want it tight. I have been told you know how to do this.”
She sat on the edge of the office chair before me and watched intently as I folded the string in half, held right under my balls with my left hand and with my right hand wrapped the string’s two ends around my cock and threaded the ends through the closed loop. She leaned even closer and said, “Pull tight, very tight.” I cinched the loop as tight as I could. My cock pulsed in response. “Good. Now separate your balls.”
I turned the two string ends like a pigtail for 5 or 6 turns. Enough to fill the space from the back of my scrotum to the front at the base of my cock. From there, I separated the individual strings, crossed them on the belly side and then down the opposite sides around my scrotum again and pulled the ends tight. I wrapped again to the top until there was only enough length to tie a knot.
“How does that look ladies?” Miss Winters asked her class.
They replied, “Perfect,” “mmm-hmm,” and “it’s so hard like that; I like it.”
I recognized Anne and Honey’s voices. I assume the other two behind the easels are Heather and her mom.
Miss Winters sat staring for a few moments then started tracing the taut skin of my scrotum with the tip of her pointer. “Yes. I see you do know how to do this. Are you ready for some more stimulation?”
I nodded as she stood up and walked across the room.
I hadn’t noticed it before, but on a corner table she had a small glass over a tea candle. She tested the glass to make sure she could handle it. She could, so she brought it over to the desk. She held it over the head of my cock and started pouring. The heat was intense but not painful.
“Spread the coconut oil all over your cock,” she said as she started pouring the hot liquid on my tied-off balls. “Now make them shiny too; use your other hand.” She kept pouring the oil on my genitals, my hands, and finally my nipples until the glass was empty. She set the empty glass on the desk blotter then resumed her spot on the office chair.
“Now, I want you to stroke your cock. Stroke the full length of the shaft top to bottom to top in a slow steady rhythm. With your other hand, rub your balls. Do not speed up; do not slow down unless I say so,” she said as she leaned in. She made sure she made eye contact before she looked down at my cock and said, “Begin.”
I started stroking, but kept my eyes fixed on hers. I knew that if I thought about what I was feeling I would quickly lose control. She was watching my cock; I watched her eyes.
Starting with my little finger at my balls, I pulled my hand up until my fist closed on air and my hand nearly lost contact with my cock. Her eyes followed the slow movement and she smiled approvingly.
I was surprised how quickly I reached the edge of orgasm. There is something very hot about knowing you are vulnerable before 5 women who are clothed and shielded. By the sixth stroke, I was ready to explode. When my hand reached the starting point, Miss Winters said, “Stop! Squeeze and hold.”
My penis was throbbing almost uncontrollably. There was a drop of precum emerging from the slit.
“I want you to stay focused on me. Watch my eyes and nothing else.” Although my eyes were on her, my mind was totally locked on halting the imminent ejaculation. When she was confident the risk was passed, she said, “I think I see something. I want you to keep a firm grip with your right hand. Take a finger from your other hand and get that drop I see. Now rub it between your thumb and finger then pull them apart so I can see how it looks.”
I wiped up the drop of precum with my index finger and rubbed it as she asked. When I pulled my fingers apart I could see a strand between them.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “Taste it,” she ordered. “What does it taste like?”
I put my finger to my mouth and licked the sticky residue. “I mostly taste coconut, but it is a little bit salty.”
“Yes. Yes! Now continue stroking and rubbing your balls. A little faster now, but you need to stop before you cum.”
The pace the first time was torturously slow. This time I moved at about 1 stroke per second. One second up. One second down. One second up. One second down.
By the tenth full cycle, my cock started spasming so I squeezed and held again until it subsided. Again, a drop of precum appeared from the slit in my penis. This time, while I held my throbbing cock, Miss Winters used her pointer to catch it. She drew the tip through the droplet then brought it toward her. She touched it and played with it to sense the consistency. Then like a sommelier, she smelled it and finally tasted the product of her teasing.
After a couple of minutes, allowing the urgency to subside she said, “your balls are quite purple. Would you like to untie yourself?”
“Yes. Please.”
“And would you like to cum for me? Can you impress me?”
“I would really like to watch your face while I cum for you,” I replied.
“Very well. Take off the string. Then take your balls in one hand, your cock in the other and stroke as fast as you can then squeeze your balls as you are about to cum. I will count down from ten. Go! 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 now cum. Cum hard!”
My eyes never left Miss Winter’s face. As I squeezed my balls and the flow erupted from my cock, a three-foot stream shot out hitting my chest, my neck, my chin, and up into my hair as I heard, “ooohs” and “aaahs” from my observers. The spasms and spurts went on for several seconds as I squeezed out every last drop off hot semen.
Miss Winters kept her eyes trained on my throbbing cock and the creamy trails on my upper body. At last she stood up and said. “Ladies, I think we are finished here. Any questions? No? Okay then.” She walked to the office door, turned off the lights and opened the door so there was just enough light from the hall to see the exit.
I continued leaning back, my eyes closed in the dark, as my penis slowly let the blood return to my body. I heard the class quietly leave the room, but I continued to be aware of another presence with me. From under the desk, I heard a cooler close. Then I felt warm hands on my torso.
She whispered, “I was very impressed. Open your eyes, please.” She was moving her hands through the many trails of semen. She massaged it into my chest and belly. Then she took a warm moist cloth and gently wiped my face and hair.
“You were wonderful. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Do you need anything?”
“Not really.”
“Okay. Thanks again for everything,” she whispered. “You are free to go. After you leave the room, we will clean up,” she said as she handed me a robe.
I wrapped up in the robe, grabbed my clothes and retreated to the bedroom, where I flopped on the bed. I heard rustling in the office next door and I remember my cock stirring again as I started reliving the experience…those eyes. Those piercing eyes!
I quickly fell into a post orgasmic coma.
