Breaking Clichés Ch. 02

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Edited by Dark Star. Thanks!

Note: This story, like most the Breaking Clichés stories, is slightly edgier than my other stories. If you absolutely need your erotic stories to be pure vanilla, then I recommend that you read some of my other stories.


Since that fateful first day with Scarlett, where she rocked my body and my entire world as well as forcing me to acknowledge some of the darker aspects of my psyche, I’ve lived in a sort of trance. I’m fairly sure my students noticed a change in my behavior, or rather my attitude. Many times in class I had to snap out of some spontaneous reverie. Most of the times, the reveries looked exactly like what was happening right in front of my eyes.

This morning Scarlett had woken up before me as usual. I had been really surprised to learn that she was a morning person! After the first few nights we had spent together at her place, she dressed in silence, and in the dark, before going downstairs to the kitchen. Then one morning as she arose from bed, I’d asked her to open the blinds very slightly. I had still been groggy from sleep when I was nearly blinded by daylight. As I settled back comfortably on two pillows, looking at her naked body, Scarlett gave me a huge grin.

By now, this routine had become a morning ritual, and I began most days by admiring the almost unbelievable body of my girlfriend, who was about fifteen years my junior. Never, in my wildest dreams, had I imagined that I would end up with such a young and beautiful girl! Heck, she was exactly the same age as my students! She studied sociology while I taught philosophy, but she has been teasing me with the possibility of taking a philosophy class next semester. “Wanna try and imagine what I would choose to wear to your classes, professor?” she asked last week, grinning, and in that high pitched voice she uses when calling me professor.

This morning I drank in her beauty for two very precious minutes. Scarlett’s body made me think about a highly controlled, but very powerful explosion of femininity and lust. She is rather slender overall, but everywhere it counts, her body looks like it is fighting to constrain some intense pressure. Small feet and delicate shins, her lower legs are lean, but her thighs are definitely well-rounded and smooth. Her hips flare noticeably and her ass looks like two bubbles of champagne. Yet she doesn’t really have wide, womanly hips. All her femininity seems contained, on the verge of being unleashed. Her belly is soft and smooth, right on the demarcation between tight and round, and her waist is definitely small. Sometimes, when the light and angle are just right, Scarlett looks like she is wearing a corset even when completely nude.

Above her waist, on the other hand, is where the containment has failed. Her breasts are fully realized explosions of flesh. A glorious bloom of womanly perfection. I simply couldn’t lie or dissemble about it; Scarlett’s breasts were the first things I noticed when I saw her for the first time. They looked impossible or, at least, fake, but they weren’t. Instead, they were magnificent mammaries of mammoth-sized mammalian flesh. When I told her that a few nights ago, she laughed so hard she collapsed on me. She had been riding my cock, sitting on my supine form. With my hands overflowing with her breasts, my eyes glued to her dancing nipples, the alliteration just popped into my mind and I blurted it out.

This morning, while watching those same gorgeous breasts dancing in front of my eyes, I still was having trouble believing that they existed! Large didn’t even begin to do them justice. They violated every law of man,and nature. They were so exquisite and tempting that they should be declared morally wrong. Either that, or the entirety of men and lesbians should come together to enact a law forcing Scarlett to always walk around topless!

As she finished selecting her bra, she walked slowly toward me, making her breasts jiggle from side to side. I don’t know how she did that while barely moving her shoulders. It was as if her breasts had a life and a mind of their own. I should talk about that possibility with my colleagues in artificial intelligence research: “Hey guys! Do you think that breasts can be intelligent?” I chuckled softly at the thought as Scarlett knelt over me, and brought one of her breasts within reach of my mouth. As I sucked her nipple into my mouth, my entire body polarized and arched toward her. Her sweet aroma, the softness of her skin against my face and her already hard nipple in my mouth… I was ready, completely and without reservation, to die right there with a big grin on my face, but I didn’t, of course. However, as I raised my arms to grab her, I realized that she had placed her hands on either side of me, using the blanket to pin me against the bed. “I have an early class today, love. I’ll be back soon, and if you promise me you won’t get up from that bed, I’ll let you watch as I dress.”

Thus, the illegal bahis tradition began. I saw her put on a set of Axami lingerie, a mix of black and white and pink that really, really worked for her. The bra had a snow white background over which a black floral designed was laced. There were a few pink accents and ribbons that popped up brightly over the black and white. Her panties were similarly styled, but there the lace wasn’t sown in completely and so floated freely. It wasn’t transparent at all, although it let you think that it was. When she attached the garters to her hose, the effect was amazing.

Before I could stare at her for hours, she had put on a skirt, a light shirt, and was gone, blowing me a kiss before disappearing down the stairs. A few minutes later, she was out the door, and I found myself all alone in the house she was renting. It was very small and very old, but it was also very cozy. Her bedroom took the entire second floor, trapped as it was between the sloping walls of the roof. Switching on the light, I looked at the wall of wardrobe in front of me. She had left the drapes, which she used in place of doors, fully open and I was stunned at the amount of clothes Scarlett had. In the first few weeks I spent with her, I had discovered her expansive collection of clothing and lingerie. From leather, to spandex and latex, all the way to cotton and wool, Scarlett had amassed a very impressive collection. Just about everything she owned was sexy, and a large part of it was outrageously sexy.

In the far corner, I could see the leather top she had worn at the auto show. Even with all the time I’ve spent with her since that day, I sometimes doubt that day had really happened. I had originally met Scarlett as one of the environmentalist hippies at a rally, where she had mocked me and my muscle car. She had gotten the better of me on that day, paralyzed as I had been by the sight of her magnificent breasts. Then, a few days later, we met again in my college’s library, and this time I was ready for her easy arguments. When I realized that she was trying to seduce me in order to distract me, I kept going and decimated her arguments. After that, I invited her to the car show I was participating in and left. She actually came, dressed like a heavy metal fantasy, and that was the meeting that changed my life.

Today, I got up from the bed naked and knelt in front of the many boxes of lingerie again. It felt strange rummaging through her most personal items, but I knew I was welcome to do it. In fact, I was more than welcome. One morning, out of the blue, Scarlett told me something that took me by surprise: “John, from now on you get to decide what I wear.” She had told me that standing at the foot of the bed, completely naked in the morning light. Of course I didn’t do it everyday, but when I decided to, Scarlett was forced to wear what I wanted.

There were some exceptions of course, with her family and a few old friends, but otherwise I had free reign. Since then, it had been a thrill to ask her to dress very sexily on a few occasions when it made her feel a bit anxious.

I took a deep breath inside one of my favorite bras, an Empreinte Irina Demi Bra in deep plum color. After savoring her scent, I looked at the tag, already knowing what I would find: 34F. That was just unbelievable. Licking my lips, I replaced the bra and put on a pair of jeans, with nothing underneath. Since hooking up with Scarlett I had begun to follow her trend of dressing as lightly as possible when we were alone together. It had been strange, but since she sometimes tried to wear less clothing than I did, it motivated me to dress very lightly indeed.

When I walked down to the kitchen, I saw that she had left her panties on a chair, with a note on the table: “I finally decided not to wear them. Think of me today! Scarlett. Xxx” Below that teasing note she had added: “P.S. Do you think I should tell my psycho-sociology professor that I’m not wearing anything under my skirt? Send me a text! 🙂 ” I laughed out loud, getting my phone from my pocket. A quick “Yes” later, I imagined my colleague, poor old Ferdinand, reacting to the sight of my girlfriend’s pussy flashing from underneath her desk.

As I finished my breakfast, as I looked around Scarlett’s house, I felt a remarkable amount of gratitude towards that girl. I didn’t feel worthy of such a fantastic body, or of such a naughty and playful mind, but the most surprising part of it all was that my intuition about her had been right. After our first bout of incredibly intense sex inside and outside of my old Charger, I had a feeling that Scarlett was going to be more to me than just an amazing sex partner. Now I knew that I wanted more than just her body, I wanted her. I was falling in love with her more and more everyday, despite the fact that I used to believe that older men falling for younger women were nothing more than lechers. Oh, how little did I know!

My mind spent the entire day illegal bahis siteleri wandering through erotic images of Scarlett, either fantasized or remembered. I brought her panties with me, leaving them in my bag. The bag was with me during my class, and just knowing that they were there lightened my mood through the long and rather boring, but mandatory historical portion of the course. Such historical information was sometimes necessary, but seemed to me to detract from actual philosophical work. In any case, I lived through it, like I do every year, looking forward to an evening alone with Scarlett.

During dinner she told me about her little experiment, as she called it, during her morning class with Ferdinand. Apparently the poor old fellow’s face had turned quite red. Lucky for her she had controlled her laughter, but she could hear the students behind her talking. They hadn’t seen her opening her legs too wide as she bent down to get something in her bag, but instead believed that Ferdinand had simply looked at her cleavage too long. In fact, he had been looking much lower than that. He had remained red faced and flustered for quite a while and spent the rest of the class pointedly not looking at her. Even when she asked a question, legs demurely crossed, he managed to answer without looking into her eyes, or anywhere else for that matter.

As I watched her laugh, I knew that she was enjoying herself a lot. One of the things that surprised me the most as I discovered more and more about Scarlett, was that the remarkable confidence she had about her body and her sexuality was relatively new to her. When I first met her, despite her youthfulness, she seemed like a woman in full control of her body, appearance and the effect it had on men. She was largely in control, but she hadn’t been for long. She used to see her large breasts as the bane of her existence. That persisted until one of her boyfriends, quite a few years older than she and a true breast lover, had shown her just how much power she could wield over men.

She had dumped him a few months into their relationship, a little over a year ago now, but his presence in her life had changed everything. At first she considered her breasts as gifts boys and men had to work to deserve, giving her a lot of power. Soon though, Scarlett saw this game as quite childish. Since then, it was the interplay of power between lovers that drove and fascinated her. In the case of her psych-sociology professor, Ferdinand hadn’t been up to the challenge. Then again, before meeting her, I would have said the same thing about me. The way she managed to get under my skin and force me to unleash desires that had been there all along, unbeknownst to me, was both exciting and puzzling.

“I have an idea!” she said, bringing me back to the present. “Why don’t we go and see that new movie tonight?”

“The one about the serial murderer?” I asked, already fairly certain that she was taking about that one.

“Yep!” she replied.

“Isn’t that a horror movie?” I asked.

“Yes. Is that a problem for you?” she paused, seeing my hesitation. “What? Are you saying you’re afraid of horror movies? Isn’t your impressive rational mind up to the task of protecting your from base, irrational fears?” she asked, grinning at me.

I grinned, not rising to the bait. “Be that as it may, it’s entirely possible that I don’t like such movies, just like you don’t like Jazz music. What’s up with that anyway? Everybody loves classical Jazz!” was my retort.

“Ha!” she laughed, seeing right through my attempt at deflection. “Oh my God! You’re really afraid of horror movies!” she said, incredulous that such a thing could be so.

She got up from the table and told me that there was a late showing at 9:30. We had plenty of time to get there. Scarlett then kissed me on the head and bounced up to her room to change, not even waiting for my answer. Still at the table, I grinned, shaking my head. Luckily for me, I wasn’t all that afraid of horror movies, but I was also aware that my rational mind wasn’t always up to the task of controlling my emotions. I sighed and groaned, knowing that it was going to be a rough night.

Little did I know just how rough it was going to be.

At the very least, I intended to maximize my own enjoyment tonight. Still at the table, I called to Scarlett: “Do you think that you’re allowed to dress yourself tonight?”

I smiled as I heard a quick, very light titter coming from her room. Then, after a brief pause, she replied: “Of course not. I’m completely nude and waiting for you.”

I grinned, knowing that she wasn’t completely nude, but I was now hearing her undressing quickly. I could have told her: “Wait for me to choose what you’ll wear!”, but I didn’t. By asking her if she thought she was allowed to choose, I was bringing us both into this world of domination and submission she so loved. I was pretty sure she was grinning right now, undressing in her room. canlı bahis siteleri

As I climbed the stairs slowly, making sure each of my footsteps thumped loudly, I closed my eyes briefly, my mind savoring in advance, the sight I was going to discover. Standing at the top of the stairs, I turned and looked at Scarlett, who was now completely nude indeed. She was standing straight, her hands behind her back and her legs crossed, which emphasized the curves of her hips.

Her breasts didn’t need any emphasis, but I knew she was arching her upper body, pushing those massive mounds upwards and toward me. She had even placed herself so that the mirror on the wall would allow me to see her from the back as well.

Her head was inclined slightly downward and to the side, affecting a subtle, but very submissive pose. Scarlett was anything but a submissive person in real life, but playing one in our sex life was one of her biggest turn-ons.

I didn’t say a word, just admired her beauty for a couple of minutes. This silence, relatively long as I stared at her shamelessly, would have made most women and all girls feel very nervous. Scarlett simply stood there, the intertwined flow of her curves all present for me to see. During those minutes, I vowed to bury my face between her ass cheeks as soon as I was able. The strangest part of it all was that I could have done it right then and there. I could have asked her to turn around and lay down on the bed, ass up. I very nearly did! Instead, I controlled my urge and turned toward her clothes.

I selected a dress that was way too fancy for the movies, but I didn’t care. The first time I had seen it on the clothes hanger a few weeks ago, I couldn’t even figure out how it was supposed to be worn, but given that it was long and didn’t contain all that much fabric, I chose it for tonight. It was bright red, cut very strangely, and I couldn’t wait for Scarlett to put it on in front of me! After laying it on the bed, walking very close to Scarlett’s magnificent naked body, I resisted temptation again and went back for lingerie.

First, I selected an equally bright red bra from Aubade, called Belle en Cavalle. It took me a minute to figure out that this was a quarter cup bra, and that it wouldn’t even cover her nipples. Was it decent? Not at all. Had she chosen to go see a horror movie? Yes. And had she given me permission to choose her clothing? Yeppirs. When I threw it on the bed, I heard Scarlett sigh as she saw it. It was probably a bra she wore exclusively for sex and foreplay, but that sigh couldn’t go by unchallenged.

I stood up slowly and walked right up to her. “Is there a problem?” I asked. She simply shook her head, keeping her eyes cast downward as we played our game. “I certainly hope not! Are you afraid your nipples are going to poke through the dress?” I asked. She nodded. “Good! I plan on stimulating them all night long, and give all the other people at the cinema a sight to remember.” I growled in a whisper into her ear.

As I turned back to the lingerie boxes, I grinned. I was beginning to like this domination and submission game. Standing up, I said that she would wear the panties she had left on the table this morning, which I had carried with me all day. Looking up, she grinned at the thought of her panties being with me today. A couple of minute later she was dressed, and the sight was breathtaking to behold.

The dress had only one shoulder, as the stretching material curved down and under her other arm. There was an open circle exposing her skin on her left side and waist, and the long dress had a single cut on her right side that went fairly high on her thigh. The dress flowed down very low, but the slit made it so that her leg tattoo was easily seen. The tattooed anklet and chain was rising up and around her calf and bloomed into an explosion of black roses on her thigh. The dress seemed to be made explicitly to display her tattoo. Up top, the bra happened to match the dress’ color exceedingly well, as the reds fit and the visible bra strap added to the effect.

Scarlett whispered: “Wow! That’s a very nice combination.”

“Of course! I chose it for you.” I said, winking at her through the glass.

She grinned back and turned to kiss me on the lips. Looking at the mirror again, seeing the both of us, she said: “I look like an escort!”

“Yes, like a thousand dollar an hour escort!” I said, laughing.

“Yes, and this escort has to take it all off now.” She laughed when she saw my face. “Oh, poor thing!,” she said, teasing me. “You think I don’t want to wear it? Of course I do, but I really want to take a shower first. A long shower.”

We went back downstairs and I grabbed my book while I was waiting for her. She really did take a long shower, and I had no idea why, but when she paraded naked in front of me before going back up to her room, I forgot to ask. Soon, she came back down dressed as she had been earlier, but with one addition. Above her tattoo, high on her thigh, she had wrapped a fine silver chain. It hugged her skin very snugly in a circle, but on the outside of her leg there was an additional chain that looped down. It was very delicate and extraordinarily sexy.

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