Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries Read online

  After Professor Price hands out the newest assignment, he takes a seat at his desk and dismisses us. I follow the line of students to the door, imagining all of the ways to work my latest assignment into a session with one of my clients, when his voice stops me. It’s deep and rich, like a shot of whisky.

  “Ms. Fairchild?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I see you for a minute?” He glances up at me from his desk and smiles.

  “Sure.” I grip the strap of my bag tighter and saunter over to his side.

  He doesn’t start in right away. Instead, we wait for the room to clear, a feat that seems to take forever. It’s like they’re lingering on purpose. When the last person has finally left, he gives me his undivided attention. “Thank you for waiting.”

  “No problem.” I plant my ass on top of his desk and cross my legs. The skirt of my dress rides up, showing off an indecent amount of thigh.

  His gaze hones in on my exposed flesh, and his pupils dilate. I can read him like a book. Every move I make, no matter how subtle, is turning him on.

  He clears his throat before he leans on his arm, shifting in closer towards me. “I wanted to talk to you about your paper.”

  “Something wrong with it, Professor Price?” My fingers lazily trace a circle along the top of my leg. Taunting him sets my insides on fire. I may just see how far I can push him before he breaks.

  “Please, call me Collin.” He glances up at me for a brief second before he loosens his tie and tosses it on the desk. Indecent thoughts involving him and bondage flood my mind. He’d look edible strapped to my bed with a ball gag in his mouth as I fucked him from behind. Some men aren’t into anal play when they’re the bottom, but I have a gut feeling Professor Price would love every bit of kink that I threw his way.

  “Alright, Collin.” My voice dips an octave lower, putting an extended emphasis on every letter of his name. I lean back on my hands, pressing my breasts forward. They strain against the thin fabric of my dress, begging to be sucked. “What’s wrong with my paper?”

  His breathing quickens as he shuffles papers around and does his best to keep from eye fucking me. “Nothing. Quite the opposite—it’s very good. I’ve never had a student show this depth of knowledge about a subject before. It’s remarkable really.” His excitement has my heart racing. Sweet and smart do me in every single time.

  “Thank you.” I gaze down at him through dark lashes and bite my lip. “It’s something I can really sink my teeth into, you know?”

  The double meaning of my words isn’t lost on him. He leans in so close that the warmth of his breath brushes against my cheek. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  His eyes hold mine, refusing to look away. There’s a hidden promise behind them. What that entails is still to be determined, but I’m willing to play with him and find out all of his secrets.

  Professor Price strikes me as more of the show and tell type, and those are my favorite kind. I reach into my bag and pull out one of my pink cards. My finger slips it across the desk in front of him. The thought of putting on a little show for this man has my pussy throbbing and aching to be fucked…hard.

  “What’s this?” His dark hooded eyes penetrate deep inside me.

  “Wednesday at nine.” I slip off the desk to my feet, giving him one last eyeful.

  He stares, waiting for me to offer up more of an explanation, but I don’t. Part of the fun is the build up of anticipation. Leave him wanting more.

  “Until next time, Professor.” I wink, sling my bag over my shoulder, and strut my ass out the door. My lips spread into a devilish grin as I begin the short walk to my car.

  There’s no shame in my game. He’ll watch. Sooner or later, curiosity kills the cat.

  Chapter Three

  Collin

  My fingers tap against the pink card. That magnolia flower stares back, goading me, like a certain dark haired devil who makes my dick hard every time I think of her blue eyes or those plump lips and what they’re capable of. That thought alone has me straining against my zipper.

  The clock ticks behind me as a reminder. It’s a little after nine and my window of opportunity is slipping away. I swallow down another sip of Jameson and lean back against my chair. I’ve been sitting at my desk in nothing but a pair of jeans for the past twenty minutes, struggling to decide. Should I or shouldn’t I? She’s a student. I’m her teacher, for Christ’s sake. Things can get messy. This could mean my job.

  Images of Harmony and that body of hers flood my mind. She has curves in all the right places and legs that would look damn good wrapped around me as I’m buried balls deep inside her. Her tits are so perfect and firm. And she has an ass that’s begging to be both smacked and fucked. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.

  Fuck it. Decision made. Some things are worth the risk. I swallow down the last bit of Jameson and set the glass down before turning on my computer.

  My fingers stroke the keys as if they are her flesh. It feels like an eternity before I finish typing in the IP address and password. I hold my breath as I click the login button.

  Everything’s black for a brief second, but then every muscle in my body tightens. She’s there. On a bed. Ass up. And her face is buried in someone’s pussy. The only thing keeping her from baring herself to the camera is a black sliver of fabric.

  The rest of her has my balls already aching. She’s wearing nothing but a short plaid skirt and a thin white scrap of material that ties in the center, pushing her tits up and out for a ‘top’. Her hair is split down the middle and pulled up on either side in a perfect set of handlebars. My fists clench, longing to grip onto them tight as I fuck her mouth. The wicked vixen has dressed like a schoolgirl. I grin, knowing damn well that her outfit is for me.

  This view has my dick straining to be set free. I unzip my pants so I can grip it into a tight fist and work slow, small strokes from base to shaft. Pre-cum coats the head. My thumb coats the rest as I watch.

  Harmony groans as she continues to devour the woman on the bed. The woman’s face pinches tight, and just before she’s about to cum, Harmony pulls away. There’s the same wicked gleam in her eye that she had in class. It’s clear that this little minx likes to be in charge of the show—something we have in common.

  “Calico tastes so good.” She licks the wetness off her bottom lip as she glances into the camera. Moaning draws her attention back to the woman lying on the bed. “You want more?”

  “Fuck yes,” Calico groans. Her pink hair fans out on the bed as she pinches and tugs on the piercings in her hardened nipples. Tattoos cover her arms and legs. She’s hot as fuck, but my hard on is courtesy of the one doling out her torture.

  Harmony faces the camera once more and arches a dark eyebrow. She’s enjoying putting on a show for the audience. “What would you like me to do to her?”

  There’s a beat of silence as she reads the requests on the screen, and I swear it’s the longest of my life.

  The sides of her plump lips twitch up in amusement. “We have some naughty members tonight.”

  “They want you to please me,” Calico taunts. Something tells me she’s every bit as dominating in the bedroom as Harmony is. It’s obvious by their body language and silent communication that they’ve done this together often. They can read what the other wants or needs without words and it’s fucking hot as hell to witness.

  “How bad do you want it?” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and I damn near squeeze my dick off. I’ve wanted this devil on her knees, sucking me off with those pouty lips, since the first day of class. Just the thought of her biting, marking me with those teeth, is making me burn with need.

  “Bad. So bad.” Calico voices my thoughts.

  Harmony bends down and grabs a toy from the floor. It looks like a jackhammer with a giant plastic dick attached.

  “Ask and you shall receive.” She coats it in lube and turns it on. The fucking thing spins around, ready to do some serious damage. Her eyes glisten a
s she inserts it into Calico’s ass. Then she slides three fingers inside Calico’s pussy as well.

  Calico squirms until she’s adjusted to the invasion. She’s on display like a wet dream, but watching Harmony in control like that has me ready to bust a nut.

  “Oh God. Yes. Harder.” Calico whimpers. It doesn’t take her long before she’s writhing around on the bed and arching her hips up to meet Harmony’s strokes.

  “You like this, don’t you, you little slut?” Harmony works her over, hard. She’s relentless, without mercy.

  “I love it in my ass. It feels so good.” Calico trails her fingers down her body to rub her clit. Her toes curl as she arches off the bed. “Holy fucking shit!” Her juices coat Harmony’s hand.

  Harmony sets the toy down and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm. Tastes like peaches and cream.” Her eyes flicker towards the bottom of the screen, probably reading requests.

  I’m struck with one of my own. It’s a trick to type with one hand, but I’m not letting go. I continue to squeeze and work my dick until the last word is typed out. I hit enter and hold my breath.

  The second my message goes through, her attitude becomes stronger and her teeth dig into her bottom lip. A coy smile spreads across her face as she stands to her feet.

  “I do like to play dirty.” She slips her thong down her legs, slowly, teasing, taunting me with every movement.

  She bends down onto all fours, facing away from me, and it’s quite the view. My greedy eyes hone in on her bare pussy. It’s pink and glistening. My dick throbs in my hand. I will be jerking off to this image all week.

  Without warning, she attacks Calico’s pussy. Licking her from slit to ass like she’s starving for it.

  “More,” Calico demands.

  “Oh yeah.” Harmony grins. “You’ll get much more.” She sucks on Calico’s clit as she starts to rub her own. Two of her fingers slip inside and she starts to finger herself, slowly at first, but with each pump she picks up speed.

  The faster her fingers slip in and out, the quicker I stroke my dick. Her whimpers have my balls tightening. She works her clit in quick circles with her thumb as she keeps thrusting her fingers inside herself. Wetness is dripping down her thighs and my mouth aches to lick it off. Every inch of her is glistening with sweat. She’s close. And so am I.

  A few more thrusts and her spine arches as her head falls back. She continues fingering herself, riding out her orgasm.

  The tingling in my spine builds. A couple more pumps and I reach the point of no return. My muscles clench as my own release hits, but I never tear my eyes away from the screen. Cum spurts out across my stomach as I drop my head to try to catch my breath. Watching her as my own release hits makes my orgasm even more of a rush. My pulse races as our heavy breathing fills the silence. Fucking shit. That was intense.

  When I lift my head back up towards the screen, I almost feel ready for round two.

  Hair messy and face flushed, Harmony looks like a fucking goddess, and my body’s begging to be inside her.

  She stares right at the camera and winks. “That was fun.”

  The screen fades to black. I’m left alone, panting with my now soft dick still in my hand, my cum dripping down my abs. I haven’t jerked off and had that intense of an orgasm before. Something tells me the sole reason behind it is a certain blue-eyed minx—one who will be the star of my fantasies for the rest of the week.

  I laugh, excited at the thought of seeing her again. “Until next time.”

  Chapter Four

  Harmony

  As I lie in bed, I can’t help the smile on my face. Knowing that he was watching last night has me in a victorious mood. Part of my job is reading people—the wants and desires that they’re too intimidated to voice out loud. I knew he would enjoy every dirty second. I want to spend the day in bed fantasizing about every detail, but then I remember that tonight is my dreaded weekly family dinner and my high disappears. “Shit.”

  Today has been a quiet one, mostly spent catching up on homework. When I can’t put it off any longer, I shower and dress for dinner. The half hour drive isn’t bad, but other times it’s not far enough away. I ache for the day school is finished and I can leave here, start someplace fresh. I only have three weeks left of this semester and I’ll be free.

  Pulling into the short drive of my family home has my insides twisting in knots. I stare at the small Folk Victorian style home with dread. Fresh yellow paint coats the outside, giving it a vibrant feel, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. There are no happy memories in this place for me.

  I stare at the front porch of my childhood home and heave out a deep sigh. There’s nothing I’d like more than to blow them off for the fourth week in a row because last time things got pretty heated, but that would only hurt my mom. When I walk through the door, the smell of pot roast hits me in the face. Figures. It wouldn’t ever be anything else. That’s all my dad will allow her to cook on family night.

  The same antiques I’ve seen for as long I can remember line the flower-papered walls. The house is very simple. My mom’s always had Victorian taste. It’s the only thing my father allows her to do. It’s all very June Cleaver, but that’s how she is.

  “Mom?”

  “In here, honey.”

  I follow the sound of her voice to the kitchen and find her hard at work preparing a full meal. You’d think it was Thanksgiving. My face pinches tight.

  “What are you doing? The doctor told you to take it easy.”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine.” She brushes off my concern and that pisses me off. Exhaustion glares at me behind her blue eyes. The bun in her hair doesn’t hide the fact that there are more streaks of silver in it since I last saw her. “Besides, what would your father eat without me to cook for him?”

  “He’s a grown man. How about he cooks for his own damn self?” Her face reddens as she looks away. I take a deep breath and force myself to tamp down my anger. Exploding on my mother is not the way to get her to see reason. “Look, Mom, I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to end up back in the hospital. The doctor said you were lucky this time that your stroke was only a mild one. I’m worried that you’ll become a vegetable because your husband thinks it’s a woman’s job to cook.”

  My mother’s face softens as she glances at me, and her hands cup my face. “I appreciate that you worry, but I’m fine. I promise.”

  My dad’s voice shouts from the other room, “Hurry up, Clara. I’m hungry.”

  “Coming, Augustus.” She kisses my cheek. “Do me a favor and set the table.”

  I know when arguing is pointless and this is one of those times, so I just nod my head. “Fine.” My hands squeeze the knobs of the drawers to stop me from slamming them shut as I grab the silverware and plates.

  In the dining room, my father is sitting at the head of the table reading the newspaper. His dark blue eyes dart up when I enter, but other than that, there’s no reaction from him. In the last month, he seems to have lost even more hair and is almost completely bald. Besides a few more wrinkles around his mouth, that’s the only major difference that I see.

  “Dad.”

  A grunt is the only sign that he’s heard me. After years of his abuse, it shouldn’t sting to have him ignore me, but it does. My hands grip the edges of the plates so hard my knuckles turn white. I ignore the pang in my chest and set the table. I’m here for my mom; I won’t let the old bastard ruin the little time he allows me to have with her.

  After I set down the last of the silverware, I slip into my seat and wait. My father never so much as moves. Silence cuts between us like a knife. The only sounds are the ticking of the grandfather clock and my mother in the kitchen. I squirm in my chair and wish my mom would hurry up. This awkward silence is worse than a slow painful death for me.

  Just when I think I’m going to crawl out of my skin, my mother comes out. It takes us both a few trips to the kitchen before we have everything on the table. My father, on the other hand, never lea
ves his seat.

  We barely have time to sit before he’s bowing his head, ready to pray. My mother and I follow his lead and do the same. Once he’s finished, we pile our plates with food. I take enough so my mother won’t worry, but that’s it. I never have much of an appetite when I’m in this house.

  Our forks clank against our plates and for the longest time, that’s the only sound I hear.

  “How is it?” My mom beams up at me. She’s eager for someone to appreciate her cooking.

  “It’s delicious, Mom.” I smile at her.

  She gazes at my father for a sign of anything, but he ignores her and keeps stuffing his face. Disappointment etches its way onto her face and my heart breaks. All she wants is to be loved and treasured by him. I don’t understand why. The man’s an asshole.

  I hate seeing her hurt, so I strike up a conversation. “How have you been?”

  “Good. The church is having a bake sale, so I’ve been busy planning that.” She beams with excitement as she speaks. “That reminds me. I saw Rhett and his lovely wife Charlotte at service on Sunday. They asked about you.”

  The thought has me aching to laugh, but I know better. “Give them my best.” I know I sure have.

  “You really should come to a service soon. Everyone would love to see you. And your father gave such a great sermon on Sunday. It was one of his best. Isn’t that right?” My mom looks to Dad for approval and in hopes he’ll add to the conversation.

  He nods, but remains silent. She twists her mouth in disappointment.

  “I’ll try, Mom. I’m just busy with school and stuff.” It hurts my heart to brush her off, but there’s no way I’ll step foot in there again.