I was never cut out to be a tutor in the traditional sense. Standing up in front of a class of students, attempting to keep them engaged isn’t how I roll. I know my subject inside out and back to front. English grammar, literature and style is my thing and I enjoy imparting my knowledge. But writing on a blackboard – that wasn’t me.
So, after 20 years in engineering, I decided to switch careers and turn my hobby into a job. I did the course in teacher training – I already had my BSc and set myself up as a private tutor. Living smack bang in the catchment area for the local Girls’ High School, I figured I could get some nice work for anyone looking to get the very top grades. I put an ad in the local paper as well as on the interweb, offering my services. If my own experience as a student was anything to go by, school can only get you so far. I wanted to help the students who wanted to go the extra mile. The words ‘going the extra mile’ would turn out to have more meaning than I could have imagined.
I don’t consider myself a pervy man but when my first student was dropped off by her mother last week, I got quite a shock. I had driven past the High School on the odd occasion, so I well knew the uniform was on the revealing side. In fact given the austere edifice and its reputation for traditional values, the shortness of the skirt on their uniform, was surprising. However, driving past and seeing a bevy of sixth formers pouring out was one thing – having one of their number in my house was another. I don’t know why, I expected her to be in her weekend clothes.
Emily was articulate and spoke with the rounded vowels of her peers, rather than the accent of the mall. She had long sandy blonde hair, straight and sleek and then crimped for the last third. Her blue eyes were kind and intelligent.
“You’ve come straight from school?” I asked, stupidly.
She nodded and smiled in the affirmative, as she passed me her folder.
Her light blue shirt was crisp and deliberately a size too large, and it was unruffled except for the subtle contours of her breasts. Her top two buttons were undone, to allow her it seemed, the luxury of removing her tie – the only departure from her uniform. I tried not to look at her legs but it was impossible not to. Her skirt was a royal blue with broad pleats that finished what seemed way too high on the thighs. Her knee high socks were what did it for me though. The combination of black hosiery, white flesh and blue skirt might have been designed to make my heart race and tapped into some primeval desire I didn’t know I had.
I had a strong sense of professionalism and was aware that my performance with my first student would go a long way to securing more business; word of mouth was as good as any ad. After thirty minutes, following a brief introduction, it was going well and I thought it would be nice to offer my student a cup of coffee. Emily accepted my hospitality and I left her alone briefly while I organised the cafietiere.
When I came back, I was surprised to see that she had pushed her chair back and put her feet on the table. This had the effect of making her skirt drift up her thighs, creating an even starker contrast between her white flesh and her dark socks.
“Hope you don’t mind me making myself at home?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay.”
I sat down and placed the two mugs on the table, taking care not to spill any on her folder.
I glanced her way briefly and it was like the effect of a light bulb on the retina. The shadowy depths of her thighs and the skimpy triangle of white was burned into my mind.
I looked again, like a mischievous teen and then I gazed at her guiltily. She took a sip of coffee and looked at me expectantly.
“What is it?” she asked.
“What?”
“Is there something wrong with my legs?”
“Eh? No, why?”
I felt my face go hot and red. Even without doing anything, I had transgressed the tutor student barrier – just by looking.
Emily’s question, delivered with apparent indignation was replaced by a look of playful coquettishness. For a moment I sighed with relief. But it was the briefest moment, until she parted her knees and stroked one thigh, simultaneously flashing a delicious expanse of inner thigh and a white gusset. I knew I should have looked away, but it was like the voyeuristic pull of the car crash, forcing me to look despite all my best intentions.
She didn’t need to speak, her eyes said it all…
‘You’ve been burning a hole through my skirt for the last half an hour. If you wanted to see up my skirt you should have said.’
It’s true, I had glanced down to her legs once or twice but that is all. Well maybe twice or three times…
I wanted to nip things in the bud, aware that I was in a potentially compromising position.
“Sorry, if I was indiscreet before. I think there was a misunderstanding.”
What was I meant to say?
With that, she opened her legs wider, hitching up her skirt at the same time. She made no allusion to her behaviour, but nonchalantly picked up her mug and took a sip, eyeing me suspiciously as I fought against another furtive glance.
For the first time there was movement in my pants. I had so far managed to block out any inappropriate thoughts, but the combination of Emily’s provocation and the wonderful view of her nether regions had finally been too much to bear. To my alarm, I knew that once the wolf had sprung from his trap there was no going back. The sensation of my developing erection was so pleasurable that it fed on the gorgeous sight of Emily’s panties that I was soon packing a good hard on.
“Can I ask you a question, Steve?” she said.
“Sure.”
“Have you ever done anything… with one of your students?”
I knew what she meant, but I pretended not to. What was an awkward situation was accelerating and I wasn’t sure of the best way to handle it.
“Done anything?”
Emily lifted one leg and cradled the back of her knee with her hand, giving me a tantalizing view of the underneath of her thigh where it met her blue pleats.
“You know… I mean, you’re a private tutor. I didn’t think the rules were the same?”
“Actually. You’re my first student.”
“Oh! I didn’t know that.”
“Yes.” When you say rules?”
“Even though we’re sixteen. I mean, age of consent and all that, Zahra and Izzy say it’s not allowed with our tutors. But I’m not sure it applies to private tutors.”
I was attempting to respond appropriately, when Emily began fiddling with the top button of her shirt.
Her leg was still bent and to be honest I was struggling. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t stand up without revealing my tent and yet even in my current position it was uncomfortable. Nothing helped. I wanted to block it out, but I couldn’t. Resisting random thoughts was one thing, but when the source of one’s arousal was 25 inches away, it was a different matter.
I must have flinched or something or done something, because Emily was on to me straight away. She put down her mug and looked over the table, straight down to my crotch.
“Have you got a hard-on, Steve?!”
“No!”
“You have, haven’t you!”
“Look we better get back to your studies.”
“No, this is more interesting!”
“Look, Emily…”
My student stood up, ignoring my protestations and leaned against me, her thighs pressed against my legs and her hand on the back of my chair, so that her knuckles were touching my back. I could smell her sweet, faint perfume, which was like a mixture of strawberries and rose petals.
“I’m going to take my panties off now, Steve. Don’t let me down will you.”
My cock was now ready to burst from my pants. I was so hard, I ached for release. I knew that would only happen when either Emily left or I satisfied her crazy, schoolgirl desires.
“If it makes any difference, I’ll ride you, if you like,” she said. “So it’s like I’m taking the initiative.”
I looked up at her from my seated position, as she bent slightly, putting her hands up her skirt. This was followed by her wriggling out of her knickers and I watched helplessly, as she removed the tiny white tangle of white cotton. She eased herself between me and the table and proceeded to unbutton her shirt. She was barely inches from my face, as my hands wandered up the back of her smooth legs and came to rest on the crease below her plump ass cheeks. She opened her shirt, to reveal a simple white bra, which was covering medium-sized breasts, judging by the modest mounds of cleavage.
Time seemed to stop as my heart pounded, and I heard the faint snick of bra catches being undone, as my hands cupped her amazingly soft round bum cheeks. My cock twitched as my fingers dabbled along the cleft of her bum and my hands kneaded her butt.
I was now in serious discomfort from the pressure on my cock and decided I needed to give my cock some space. I continued to caress her ass with one hand, while unzipping my trousers, which at least released the immediate problem. I had the relative looseness of my thin cotton trunks now the only thing between my cock and her pussy, as she began to lower herself onto me. My heart was racing and I was breathing feverishly almost, as she lost her bra.
I breathed in the sweetness of her skin as she pressed her breasts against my face. Her fingers were stroking my cock through my trunks, the burning sensation partly relieved by a little precum seeping onto the cotton.
Her breasts were perfectly up-tilted. Her nipples were unblemished pink mounds, encircled by delightfully areolae, whose puffiness yielded to my tongue before instantly regaining their shape. She murmured her approval as I closed my lips around each nipple, sucking on her young breasts. Her fingers continued to play with my foreskin through the fine fabric of my underwear, until the friction eventually placed the tip of my cock against the opening. At first, she rubbed the front of her pussy lips against my cock, pushing me back into the chair and squishing her boobs into my face.
I cupped her ass cheeks, and lifted her slightly as my cock moved back and forth, brushing her labia, the moisture of her pussy merging with my pre-cum. My hardness penetrated her naturally, with almost no effort on my part. We both let out a long shuddering expression of pleasure. The tightness of her young, wet pussy sent me into a near delirious frisson of sexual excitement. Her sounds became a repeated, urgent whimper of ecstasy as she rocked her hips backwards and forwards.
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and fucked me rhythmically. My lips were pressed into her neck just below her ear. At the same time I fondled her breasts with my hands, savouring those beautiful puffy nipples with the tips of my fingers. My cock was so hard and I was so aroused I expected to come at any time, but I wanted to hold off as long as possible. I felt that I needed to live up to whatever expectations she had, as well as increase the final pleasure when it came.
There was a throbbing deep in my cock, which I soon understood to be both my own rampant organ and the spasm of her pussy as she gave way to the demands of her sublimely youthful body. Each thrust of her hips seemed to take me another second closer to my orgasm. I bunched up her hair in my hands and let it run between my fingers as I mumbled incoherent expletives of pleasure. I seemed to be so deep, my cock so completely enrobed by her velvety teenage pussy and the combination of scent and sensation was beginning to overwhelm me.
Her urgent cow girl movements were replaced by long sensuous sweeps of her body, as if she knew I was close to my climax. I pursed my lips and planted kisses wherever they touched. My hands drifted over her hips and bottom, savouring each soft curve until I reached the moist crevice between her little ass and her pussy. She gasped as I circled her anus with my finger, half expecting her to protest, but it just made her moan a little louder. She resumed her faster movements and I kept my finger there, so that it teased the tight puckered entrance of her ass as my cock throbbed and I felt her pussy tighten.
I gurgled, holding her tight to me as her body trembled against my body and the burning in my cock became too much. I cried out, as she went into the final throes of her orgasm and I had my release. I came so hard, I thought the contribution of our energy would break my chair but it survived, and I pumped load after load of cum into her spasming pussy. My cock continued to throb inside her, even after the last drop of spunk had been released. For a time she remained astride me, collecting herself and stroking the back of my neck, tenderly.
We dressed afterwards and she phoned for her Mum to pick her up. I had been silent after our sex, but I had to speak out.
“Emily, this must never happen again.”
“Hmph! You enjoyed it!”
“It’s not the point.”
“You’re probably right,” she said.
There was a pause as she did up her top button and flattened her skirt. Then she looked at me and smiled mischievously.
“But then again, I think we both know… that’s my decision.”
