School of Humiliation Ch. 01

When I had first heard about The School, it had been at one of those standard college parties where one wouldn't suspect anything could happen. My best friend brought a non-descript girl, I say girl because I don't like the term woman, wo/man, too limiting. This 'girl' was well over her mid-twenties, with an incredibly bored expression on her face, she never told me her name. In her very unremarkable fashion, as if she didn't really want to do the job, she handed me an envelope made of thick, high quality paper, grumbling about an upcoming kink-fest and inviting me.
When I had unloaded the contents of the envelope upon getting home, I thought it was all an elaborate joke my friend was playing on me.
The envelope contained a letter printed in dark black silky paper inlaid with gold lettering, it read "Miss Lewis, This is your exclusive invite to the official Kink Festival at The School of Humiliation". The indignation at the extent of my friend's joke overcame my instinct to laugh. Furious and humiliated at my lack of judgement, I reached for my phone and called her number.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" I screamed without waiting for her to say hello.
"It's real" she promised, as if expecting my question.
"What? Stop it! I told you those things in confidence!"
"If you don't believe me, call the number at the back of the envelope." She said, her tone was gleeful.
"Fuck escort şişli off"
To be honest, Janet had made me very curious. It had all started with a little incident one night, on my way back home from work. The underground was full due to the rush of Christmas and I had found myself stuck near a vestibule door. With someone very eager stuck right behind me. The roughness and size of the hands that managed to slip between the door and my thick jumper, cold underneath my t-shirt and promptly hardened my nipples, led me to conclude they were those of a man who knew physical labour.
Following that incident, I had discovered my kink for exhibitionism. I would consciously navigate into thick crowds, stand near vestibule doors. My skirts got shorter for public transport. I stopped wearing a bra and then any underwear at all, it was like crack to me, the need to get felt up by a stranger, any stranger.
My peak was probably that time I had flashed a cabbie. I was coming home from a work party and the underground had already closed. I hailed a cab and slid into the front seat (a habit) giving him my directions. He looked to be around fifty, a good amount of grey in what must have been red hair. I couldn't make out the colour of his eyes in the dark but I had noticed his hands, large and thick. Suddenly, heavy desire flooded me, coiling around my belly and beginning to pool fatih escort between my legs, the fantasy of those hands roving my skin, over my breasts filled my mind and I bit my lips made me press my knees together.
"You alright?" he asked, giving me a once-over "You look uncomfortable."
"Long day" I blurted.
"Yeah, tell me about it. Hate this hour."
I was staring at his hands so I barely noticed him avert his eyes from my breasts.
I looked down and saw that my overcoat had fallen open since I hadn't buttoned it up, revealing a generous amount of my chest.
"Why are you driving at this hour then?" I had asked, instilled with confidence at his obvious attraction.
"No one to take my shift" he said, turning to look me in the eyes but his eyes dropping ever-so-briefly before turning away.
It was half past midnight when we pulled up to the entrance of my flat.
"Here we are"
My heart was beating in my throat, at the notion of what I was about to do...
"I-I don't have any money..."
I said, feeling my body quake.
"What the hell?"
"Um"
I counted to five.
"Um, you-you could. Um doyouwanttoseemyboobs?"
"What?!"
You heard me!" I said, my voice was a whisper.
"Are you a cop?" He asked, starting the car "Get out!"
"No. no. no. no. I promise, I'm not a cop!"
"Then taksim bayan escort what the hell are you on about?"
"I mean it." I said, reigning in my heartbeats.
He looked at me incredulously for a minute. Then smirked, his eyes dropping to breasts, lecherously. I felt myself on fire and my pussy oozed a little. I removed my coat deliberately, watched him watch every movement of mine like a predator.
"Wait." He said when I had removed my coat, "Not in the car. Outside."
With my back to my door, we stood near the cab, my coat dangling on my left arms while the cabbie towered in front of me with his back towards my flat. My breasts came exposed in the cold, blue light of the night. Heavy and hot from the warmth in the car. My nipples hardened immediately and the cabbie clicked his tongue appreciatively, pinching them alternatively with one hand and pushing me against the door with the other. The other hand snaked down to the hem of my form-fitting dress and pulled it up, sliding my underwear down, he sneaked his fingers in between my legs.
"Fucking hell, you're so wet, you bitch."
With my bum against the freezing cold of the cab door and the man's hot tongue laving over my impossibly tight nipples, I cried out silently, as he shoved his fingers roughly inside me, clumsily maneuvering his hand. Dissatisfied with the inconvenient angle, he withdrew his hand and brought both of them to my breasts, kneading them roughly while my knickers slipped down to my ankles.
"Fuck, so hot. You. Have. Great, tits." He breathed, each thrust of his pelvis against mine punctuating the words.
In the dim light, I saw that his eyes were a deep blue.