My first deep dive into BDSM [fM]

For those that read my last story: https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/xjp3m5/the_art_teacher_and_her_student_fm/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Lest you think of me as some sort of cocksman, it was nearly a year before I dated. After the art teacher and I broke up I was cast adrift.

In August of 82 I started art school at a then prestigious institution on a full ride scholarship. By the time this went down it was October ’83. I drank, a lot. There were nights I’d go by my teachers apartment building. Then, right after new years I decided I needed to move on.

My next girlfriend was Deirdra. She solidified the sexual me that fully unfurled my freak flag.

She was the physical antithesis of my art teacher in many ways. Black hair dark eyes and olive complexion, I would call her looks Mediterranean. She had large c cup breast and an ample ass. I should have looked up what her name means, she lived it.

I met her at a halloween party. She found me. I was dressed in a business suit which was the furthest thing from where I was (though I found it funny, inside jokes rarely work at halloween parties). She had on a bunny costume. Not a playboy bunny mind you, an Easter bunny.

The Art Teacher and the Student The Next Sautrday [FM]

Link to Part 1:

The Art Teacher and her Student [FM] from gonewildstories

On Friday at the end of class she handed me a note. The note read “we need to talk this weekend”.

It was all the note said. All I got. Inside, I had been a heap all week. She seemed OK, but I think she was struggling too.

Saturday I rallied, I dressed well, crisp 501s, blue western shirt and my cowboy boots. It was 1980s Texas in the wake of Urban Cowboy, sue me. I eschewed cologne. Mom wanted to know where I was going, my only response was “out”. Only reason I know this is that those clothes and that attitude were my go too in the early ’80s (sorry about the attitude mom, RIP).

I arrived and looked up at the second floor apartment. I was gutted. I almost turned for home. Longest 50 yard walk I’d ever made, the weight of the world ate at my shoulders.

The Art Teacher and her Student [FM]

I was an 18 year old high school senior with a gift for art. I also had a huge crush on one of my art teachers.

She was in her mid 20s, pretty with red hair and emerald green eyes; incredibly to me, she was single. But those were side notes to the fact that we just clicked. So much so that I took shit for it from class mates.

We were discussing the issue I had with hyper realism painting after class on a fall Friday evening. She told me I had no idea what it took to make a painting look like a photo. I thought it was stupid. She questioned my intelligence. Finally, I think in frustration, she wrote her address on a piece of paper and told me to come to her place Saturday evening.

Yes, I had thoughts of sex, fantasies about her had already been a regular part of my mastubratory life. I was 18, she was pretty and we “got” each other.

I get to her second floor apartment and see at least 12 masterfully painted hyper realistic pieces of art in the front room. One on an easel underway. Led Zepplin Houses of the Holy was playing on the record player.