Discipline & Desire

Chapter 5

"Why would you do this to me, Peach?" Mr. Brando asked, stepping dangerously close to me. My lips parted as his large hand found its way rubbing itself around my waist. Pressing his hand into the small of my back, he pulled me closer.

"Why would you wear such a thing?" He asked, flicking the collar of my unbuttoned shirt with his finger. Then, he touched along my bra strap inside my shirt. "I can see your undergarments."

I let out an exhale as his hand found itself deeper in my shirt, cupping around my breast. I closed my eyes as he slowly massaged me. I could feel it all, the bra I wore was a slinky silk one without lining. My nipple swelled with sensitivity as his cold thumb brushed over it.

I sucked in a breath at the sensation. He liked that.

"And this skirt." He looked behind me at my ass. Disappointment filled me when he removed his hand from my shirt, but then he bent me over his desk. He pushed his finger into the band of my high waisted pencil skirt. He could barely stick it in, the waist of it was too tight.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He pierced his lips together. Then he placed his hand on my back and guided it down to my ass. "I can see every detail of you panties."

He traced each of my panty lines with his finger. Once he got to the bottom of the second one, he pressed his hand between my thighs through the fabric of my skirt. His hand rubbed in a circular motion between my thighs. Because of my skirt, it wouldn't quite touch my core that was aching for him.

"I won't do it again." I breathed out, then his hand lifted and fell onto my ass hard in a spank. I lifted my head up as I felt the tingling on my behind. After the feeling passed, I slowly pressed my cheek to the desk.

"You'd better not do it again." He mumbled, rubbing my ass. "Having me think about you all class."

"Why?" I asked him innocently. Marlon's hands moved to my hips as he gripped it, then he pressed his core against my ass. The erect mound in his slacks was evident against me, I breathed out once I felt it. He wanted me so badly, just as badly as I wanted him.

"Because every time you moved forward in that seat, I could see right into your shirt." He said in a low, angry growl. "How am I supposed to teach a class when all I see is that little thing you like to call a brassiere?"

"It's my choice what I wear under my clothes." I protested, my voice booming against the wood of the desk.

"Well, there's not much of that, is there?" Marlon mumbled, his fingers hooking in the row of buttons underneath me and pulled at my shirt. There was a sound of buttons hitting the hard floor and sliding away at our feet.

"I won't be controlled like this, there's other girls who come in dressed like me too." I told him with full arousal in my voice.

I began pushing my bottom back onto him, which made him move his groin away and replaced it with the slap of his hand. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"They aren't like you." He told me quietly, his hand reaching for the back of my neck. He naughtily rubbed himself onto my bottom with low grunts escaping his lips. He continued grinding himself into me, dryly pleasing himself through his clothes.

The way Marlon expressed his sexual side was unlike any other man I'd been with. He was sensual and loved to touch me in all the places I needed it. He always wanted contact with me in the most imaginative yet dirty ways.

"Take off my clothes, Mr. Brando." I pleaded, he clasped my arms and stood me up. Then, he turned me around to face him and pressed my body against the desk with his. He kissed my neck, then down to my chest, sucking the skin. To my dismay, it all stopped.

"This can't go on." He looked into my eyes while holding onto my arms, hard. "We need to have an appropriate relationship from now on."

"Mr. Brando...?" A voice asked from the top of the bleachers. Marlon immediately let me go and turned around to face them. I quickly held my now open shirt closed.

It was Walter Rhodes standing at the top of the bleachers. He didn't seem like he saw all of the spectacle, but he'd surely seen enough.

"I came back to ask you a question." He announced in a confused tone.

"You can leave now, Ms. Caldwell." Marlon looked toward me, but his eyes still looked down. Both of our breathing was still quick, his face was red with frustration.

Walter began stepping down the bleachers toward the ground floor. I passed him on the way up to my things. We paused for a moment, Walter looking at me cautiously holding my shirt closed. Then, I pushed past and began packing my things.

I glimpsed up to see Marlon trying to discreetly slide my shirt buttons under his desk. Walter stood there speaking to Marlon quietly, then things seemed to get a little more heated.

When I looked up, Marlon had his hand placed on Walter's neck. It could've been a gesture of comfort, but somehow, it looked like it could've been something more. Both men looked to me, remembering my presence in the room.

I took that as my cue to exit. After tying the belt of my trench coat I started my way up the steps of the lecture hall.

After returning to my apartment, I was disappointed when I looked at my calendar. I was booked once again for the night. Walking over to my wardrobe, I got out my best gown and hung it.

I didn't always enjoy my occupation, but it definitely paid bills. Time rolled by as I tediously put pin curls in my hair. After an hour in front of my small hand held mirror, I finished applying my makeup.

After a knock on my door, I stood up and opened it. There he stood, tall and distinguished. He wore a three piece suit, then stepped inside of my apartment.

"You're early." I told him, shutting the door behind him.

"Late? I'm early." He exclaimed as he looked at his watch. "I was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."

"I'm ready, I just need to get dressed." I told him, but he held my hand.

"Let me see that figure of yours under that gown." He asked of me. His mature eyes watched as I slowly took off the gown for him. He looked great for his age, undoubtedly sexy. I didn't mind being with him at all.

"And it's all mine, only mine." He touched my chin. With a grin, I walked over to my dress and slowly put it on while he watched.

"You're going to make me want to skip dinner." He smiled as he admired what he was seeing.

After picking up my clutch, I walked toward him and stood there. He looked up at my hair which was still in pins. I squealed with a smile, pulling out each pin and he laughed as well.

"Gregory, I'm sorry I made you late." I told him.

"It's fine, Victoria." Gregory Peck answered. "I don't mind how long you take, as long as we get there."