I knocked on the door to Tanner’s house. We were supposed to meet up for a tutoring session. Tanner was a senior in one of my American history classes and I begrudgingly agreed to provide him some tutoring at his house, after school, provided, of course, his parents agreed.

“My mother says it’s OK,” Tanner had told me only hours before. So, as I stood there, having knocked on the door twice, I was sadly disappointed when no one came to the door. I was about to leave when suddenly, the door cracked open and a female voice called out,

“Who is it?”

I introduced myself as Tanner’s high school teacher and said that I was there for our tutoring session. A small head peeked out from behind the crack in the door. I assumed it was Tanner’s older sister but was surprised when she said she was Tanner’s mom, Tammy. She apologized and said Tanner wasn’t there and then she asked me to wait a second. The door closed and then re-opened a second later after.

Tanner’s mom was wrapped in a towel and was barefoot. She stepped to the side as she opened the door and asked me to come in.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly pronounced, as she quickly ushered me into the house. She closed the door behind me and latched the deadbolt. She hand-flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder, as she quickly sized me up, from head to toe, saying that she didn’t know when Tanner would be back and adding to her apology for the miscommunication

“I can leave some work assignments,” I said, fiddling with my portfolio.

Suddenly, Tanner’s mom slipped her arm under mine and she ushered me away from the front door and into the living room.

“I remember you,” she said, as she guided me into the living room. I searched my memory bank, trying to think if I had ever met her before. I meet a lot of parents, and most of them I remember for any number of reasons, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t recall meeting Tanner’s mother before.

“We met at the open house a few weeks back,” she proffered, as I took up a seat on the couch, responding to her head nod. She sat down beside me, her hand settling uncomfortably on my leg. There was no way to miss the big sparkling diamond on her ring finger.

I apologized for not remembering her from the open house.

“I met a lot of parents,” I replied, as I opened my portfolio to take out some study guides for Tanner.

She pushed the cover to my portfolio closed.

“We can discuss those later,” she said, as she pulled her long blonde hair across her bare shoulders.

It was an awkward moment. I am happily married and was not really interested in looking for anything special.

“You know,” she said softly, “I think you’re cute.”

Cute? Did she really say I was cute? I was thinking that little boys and babies are “cute.” But hey, it was a compliment, so I happily replied, “Thanks, so are you.”

I glanced down at her hand, which still rested on my leg, just above my knee.

“How long have you been married?” I asked.

“Oh gee,” she replied, glancing down at her ring, “Fifteen, maybe sixteen years.”

“So, you had Tanner before you got married?” I surmised.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I was a little on the wild side.”

I chuckled out loud.

“Was,” I repeated out loud. She chuckled out loud at my response.

“Yeah,” she replied, “But, I’ve mellowed a bit over the years.”

“Do tell,” I replied, sitting back on the couch.

“Well,” she replied, “I decided to settle down and get married.”

“I hope that’s working out well for ya,” I replied.

“Well…” she answered, her voice trailing off. “Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t.”

“But you find a way to make it work,” I said.

“Yes, we do,” she replied.

A brief second of silence was followed by a question.

“What about you?” she asked.

“We make it work,” I said. “I’m happy.”

“How's the sex life?” she asked.

It was not a question I had expected, and I surprised myself at how fast I was to answer.

“It comes and goes,” I said. “It's not like it was when we first got married, but I guess we have gotten comfortable with each other and so sex is not the driving motivator behind us staying together.”

“But you miss the spontaneity, no?” she pressed.

“Sometimes,” I replied.

“I like spontaneity,” she replied. “It’s exciting and fun.”

I shook my head in agreement. Her blue eyes sparkled, and I could tell a connection was occurring that I had not expected. She nervously twirled a finger in her hair.

“So, do you find me attractive?” she pressed, her hand settling back on to my leg, only closer to my crotch than my knee.

“Very much so,” I replied.

“Would you like something to drink?” she proffered.

“Sure,” I replied.

She bounced to her feet and quickly darted of toward the kitchen. I scanned the house. It was well decorated and well kept. Family photos lined the fore place mantle.

Within a few seconds, she settled back on to the couch beside me, handing me a glass of lemonade. I quickly gulped down the refreshment as she did the same.

“Nice place,” I said, trying to figure out where our conversation was going.

“Thanks,” she replied. “Can I show you around?”

“Sure,” I replied. She stood up and extended her hand in my direction. I took her hand in mine and she guided me down through the dining room, the kitchen and then into a hallway. The first room was Tanner’s room. It was chalked full of posters and an un-made bed. The second room was the room to Tanner’s older sister, Tatianna. We stepped to the door of the master bedroom.

“This is where all the fun stuff happens,” she said, pulling me into the bedroom. A canopied, four-posted bed was positioned against the far wall, and a large bay window providing a great view into a tree-shrouded back yard. I was looking out the window and didn’t notice her loss of covering. I turned to compliment her on the window view, but the words didn’t seem to fall into place.

She was standing there, completely naked and smiling, her hands clasped behind her back.

“So how is the view?” she demurely inquired.

“Really good,” I said with a chuckle.

She slowly made her way closer to where I was standing by the window.

“I love the window view,” she said, as she stepped closer to where I was transfixed. A part of me wanted to run, but I couldn’t.

“Want to know what I like the most about it?” she asked, stepping beside me, and gazing out the window. I was afraid to ask, so I stayed silent.

She slipped her hand on to my ass and gave it a squeeze, then softly opined, “I like it...“

Her voice trailed off for a brief second. She moved her hands on to the window glass.

“I like it when I can put my hands on the window, and feel the warmth of the weather outside, while my lover runs his hands along the curves of my body.”

Damn.

I took in a deep breath and then exhaled.

“I should probably go,” I said.

“No,” she begged. “Please pleasure me.”

“But you’re married,” I argued.

“Fuck that shit,” she sharply shot back. “We’re both married and we both have needs.”

I couldn’t argue the point. I toe-to-heel kicked off my shoes as she leaned in against me.

“Make me feel good,” she softly pleaded, taking my hand into hers and placing my hand on her soft side.

The mix of her light perfume and her womanly scent filled my nostrils. She clasped my hand into hers and silently guided me to the canopied bed. She was incredibly sexy and there was no turning back at this point.

She stripped me of my clothes and then intimately pleasured me in ways I had never been pleasured before. When it came time for me to reciprocate, she was more than a willing partner. She had an insatiable appetite for sexual pleasures beyond belief and I found myself completely entranced by both her suggestive charms and her deeply passionate kisses.

I lost total track of the time. Had it not been for a cell phone call, our time together could have been a disastrous meetup for our chance encounter. Tanner was running late and called his mother to apologize profusely for forgetting the tutoring appointment. His mother politely scolded him and reminded him that he had some making up to do.

I left the study guides on the dining room table and promised Tanner’s mother that I’d be back. She wryly commented,

“I’ll make sure Tanner knows.”

I smiled and told her that we should plan more tutoring sessions, more often. She smiled and jokingly replied, “Maybe Tanner simply needs to fail so he can have you for a teacher in the summer session.”

I laughed and told her that Tanner would graduate, and then wryly added, “Of course, he might need some college prep work over the summer and his freshman year of college.”

Said his mom in response, “That would be great. We’ll have to have some more discussions about that.”

I agreed. Tutoring, I found out, certainly has its surprises and its niceties.