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Subject: {ASSM} The Perks of Being a Doormat, Book One (Mf, teach, oral, first, mast)
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Date: Wed, 30 Jun 2010 09:10:03 -0400
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The Perks of Being a Doormat, Book One (Mf, teach, oral, first, mast)

   **** Chapter One:

   I've always been a little bit of a doormat.  I just have trouble saying
no to people, especially when they tell me they need my help, and if
they're girls, too, forget about it.  I practically can't refuse a girl in
need.  Most people would assume that I do it in the hopes of sex, but it's
not really about that.  The age or beauty of the girl doesn't matter, very
much, nor my prospective chances, it's just that I want to help.  It's like
I'm biologically hardwired not to be able to say no when a girl says the
magic words, "Please."

   For most of my life, this has caused me nothing but grief.  All through
school I'd "help" girls with their homework, doing most of it myself, or
even allow them to copy off me.  I've helped countless girls move, or given
them rides from one place to another, even to dates with their boyfriends.
I've loaned money without any expectation of getting it back, or of getting
anything other than a thank you or maybe a hug in return.  I'm a pushover,
I know.

   But there was that one time where not being able to say no when I wanted
to made all the rest of my life as a doormat worth it and changed my world
forever.

   I was just out of college, and had my own place, a small apartment, and
a new job.  It was a pretty good job, writing program documentation for a
software company.  I could work from home and they didn't care what hours I
set so long as I didn't miss a deadline.  I was a little lonely, having no
co-workers I met on a regular basis.  There were a few friends from school
I saw from time to time, but much of my social life was still seeing my
family.

   I lived with my parents through college, and after I graduated I didn't
move far, only about a 10 minute drive away.  I still saw them regularly;
after all, I had to do my laundry.  I'd also usually have at least one meal
a week over there.  My parents went to Church on Sunday, and afterwards
they had a big meal, something hearty like a roast.  Often, they invited
friends from Church over to eat with them, and I got to know a few of them
over the years.

   One Sunday, they invited a woman named Grace, who'd been there many
times before.  I'd done favors for her too, usually typing something up
that she wrote freehand.  She was Asian, although spoke with only a very
slight accent, having been in the US for something like 30 or 40 years. 
She was one of those people I didn't mind doing the occasional favor for.
She was always outwardly very friendly, and even gave me Christmas presents
every year.  They were small things, but it was the thought that counted.

   This time, Grace had some of her kids with her, two girls.  They were
technically her grandkids, but she raised them as her own since they were
babies and they even called her Mom.  She also lived with a teenage son who
was with friends, and another grown son who now lived in another state...
I'd met all of them at some point over the years (except the wayward
daughter, mother of the two girls), but didn't get to know any of them very
well.

   The two with Grace that day were Stephanie, age fourteen, and her little
sister Bonnie, age eleven.  They were cute.  Both were mixed-race, by the
same father, and resembled each other a lot.  Their Asian features were
diluted, and except for shape of their eyes, they looked closer to Latina
than Asian.  But they had nice black hair, just a hint of shade to the
skin, and sweet smiles although both wore braces.  Stephanie had her very
straight hair long, tied up in a ponytail, and was wearing a nice blouse
for church that showed her developing breasts.  Bonnie had shorter hair, a
little curlier, down to just above her shoulders.  She wore more childish
attire, a pink t-shirt-like top and pants.

   Since I was out of their age range, I tried my best not to look at
either of them, even though I was attracted.  Mostly I just adopted my
classic social eating pose, watching my plate and only paying cursory
attention to the topics, answering only when spoken to directly. 
Sometimes, when they got into a topic like religion, I zoned out and lost
track of the conversation entirely.

   It was at one of those times staring down at a slice of gravy soaked
beef and wondering about what kind of underwear Stephanie might be wearing,
when I became aware of a sudden lull in the conversation and realized I'd
been asked a question.  "I'm sorry?" I asked.  "I must have been thinking
of something else."

   "I said you must be really good at math, for computers," Grace said.

   "Yeah," I said.  "There's a lot of math required.  But it's required for
a lot of fields, not just computers."

   Grace waved her fork in the direction of Stephanie.  "She used to be so
good at school, but lately, I don't know, something happened, she's been
doing poorly."

   I glanced at Stephanie, who was also now staring down at her plate,
looking mortified.  "Mom," she complained weakly.

   "I'm sorry, but you need to fix this and work hard and get your grades
up.  You failed your last test!  You used to be really good at math, and I
don't know if you're distracted by all your friends, or..."

   "It's just harder now," she said.

   "Well it's not getting any easier.  And this is important.  Isn't it,
Tim?"

   I felt a little uncomfortable about being drawn into the conversation,
even on the fringes.  "Yeah, education is pretty important," I got out.

   "That's right," Grace said.  "So we need to nip this problem in the bud
before it gets worse.  If you're having trouble, you can get help.  We've
got a math expert right here." She looked at me pointedly.

   "I don't know if I'd say expert..." I said, not liking where this was
going.

   "Compared to all of us here you are," she said.  "Have you ever tutored
anyone before?"

   "No," I said honestly.  "I don't even think I'd know how."

   "Ha-ha, you need a tutor," Bonnie teased her sister.

   "I don't need a tutor," Stephanie said.

   Grace ignored them both.  "I'm sure it's simple.  You already know the
math, you can just help her with her homework and the problems she's having
learning.  I certainly don't understand all of it."

   "I don't think I'd be the best choice..." I said.  That was the closest
I usually came to refusal.  I never outright said no, I just pointed out
the reasons it was a bad idea, or other options that would be better.  "I'm
sure a professional tutor would be better."

   "I don't think I can afford a professional.  They charge an arm and a
leg and I barely make ends meet.  I can pay you a little.  It would only be
a couple times a week after school.  You said you choose your own hours at
your work, don't you?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "But I do have to stay close to home sometimes if I'm
on call for an emergency." This was an outright lie, there are no software
documentation emergencies, I just didn't like the idea of going over to her
place a few times a week to tutor her kid.

   "You could do it at your place," she said.  "You live on the way to her
school anyway." Grace had been present several times when my parents gave
me a ride home on the way somewhere else.  I tried to think of another
objection I could use, when she said the magic words.  "Please, Tim?  I
could really use your help on this.  Her whole future could depend on just
a little helping hand."

   "I guess I could give it a shot," I said finally.  "But I can't promise
anything, I've never taught anybody anything before."

   Grace smiled.  "That's all I ask.  Good!  Thank you.  God will bless you
for this.  We'll choose a day that's good for you.  Right after school."

   The conversation moved on.  I caught Stephanie giving me a look out of
the corner of her eye; I thought maybe she was angry at my agreeing.  I
gave her a helpless little shrug.

   **** Chapter Two:

   Tuesday was my first day as a tutor.  I was actually looking forward to
it a little by this point, and for perfectly innocent reasons.  Sure, I had
some fantasies about something happening, but I didn't really expect to do
anything but help Stephanie through her problems with math.  That itself
was a happy prospect to me.  I guess that's one of the reasons I'm a bit of
a pushover, because I do like genuinely helping people out.  It boosted my
ego to think that Stephanie might, someday, have me to thank for getting
into college.

   Before she arrived, I spent a good there hours cleaning up my place,
since I was a bachelor, so she wouldn't think I was some kind of disgusting
freak.  Then, I heard somebody coming up the stairs.

   I lived in an apartment above a set of stores.  However, I was my
landlord's favorite client, because I was his only one.  The Economy had
been in a slump, and the store below had been vacant for a while, and of
the other three apartments you could reach from the stairwell that
connected to the street, the last tenant moved out two months ago.  So when
I heard somebody coming up the stairs, I figured they were coming to see
me. I was correct.  A soft knock rapped at my door.  I got up and opened
it.

   Stephanie stood in the door, one hand on her book bag, and looking down
shyly, or sadly, not meeting my eye.  She wore a school uniform.  A blue
skirt, coming down to just above the knee, and a vest over a plain white
shirt and tie, and a jacket over both.  "Hi," she said.  It didn't seem to
be a very happy hello.

   "Hi," I said.  "Why don't you come in?"

   She shook her head when I offered her a drink, and had a seat at the
desk.  I stared at her knees for a moment before forcing my gaze away... 
she didn't seem to notice.  She wouldn't look at me at all.  "How was
school?" I asked, in an attempt to break the ice.

   She shrugged.  "It was okay."

   Another awkward silence stretched before us.  I tried again.  "Look, I
know you probably don't want to be here," I said.  "I understand, believe
me.  You'd rather be hanging out with your friends, or with your boyfriend
or something, but..."

   She still wouldn't look at me.  "I don't have a boyfriend."

   "Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised.  "I would have figured you'd be
chasing boys off with a stick."

   "I'm not allowed to," she said.  I thought she was blushing.  "Not until
I'm sixteen."

   "Oh," I said.  "Sorry." And I was, that seemed like it was way too
unfair, but then, Grace was really religious and strict.  I tried to regain
my train of thought.  "Well, anyway, I know you'd rather be doing something
else.  But we're here, so I'll try to help you with your problem, okay?"

   She didn't say anything.  Teenagers, I guess.  I remembered the days
where I barely spoke more than two words to anyone more than 5 years older
than me.  "Is there anything in particular you have trouble with?" She
shrugged.  I just about gave up.  "Okay, well, do you have any of your old
homework?  Maybe I can try to figure out where you're going wrong."

   "Okay," she said, and reached into her bag.  She dug around for nearly a
minute, then pulled out a few sheets and handed them to me.

   I told her she should get started on her new homework while I looked it
over, and I started reading through her old work.  It was kind of a blast
from the past...  it had been a while since I'd done math that simple, and
some of it I had barely used since leaving high school.

   Surprisingly, the homework, from about a week prior, didn't look that
bad.  From the scores the teacher gave, I didn't see much reason for
needing a tutor at all.  It wasn't perfect, but many of the problems seemed
to be simple errors where a negative number was used instead of a positive,
or a step was skipped.  It wasn't the homework of a failing student.

   I took a peek over her shoulder.  She was still struggling on the first
one, scratching out her failed attempts several times.  It had been several
minutes.  Either she was really slow, or she didn't know how to do it.  I
had a theory.

   "Stephanie?" I said.  She jumped at the sound of my voice, sitting
straight up.  "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

   "Uh...  sure," she said.  She looked at me, but her eyes were focused on
my chest instead of meeting my gaze.

   "Do you copy your homework answers from your friends, or the back of the
book?" Everybody did it when I was her age.  Even I did...  not because I
didn't know the answers, but because I found the homework to be pointless
busy work.  Once I understood how the equations worked, it was just a chore
to do it 60 times.

   Her response was swift, and she looked at me directly for the first time
in several minutes.  "No!" she said.

   I thought she might be afraid of me telling her Mom.  "Listen,
Stephanie. I'm here to help you.  To do that I need to know the truth about
what's going wrong.  So I'm going to make you a promise.  No matter what
you tell me here in a tutoring session, I won't tell on you, okay?  I won't
tell your Mom, my parents, your teacher, nobody.  I swear.  Do you believe
me?" She nodded.  "Okay, so did you copy off your friends?"

   "No," she said again.  "I wouldn't do that.  It's cheating.  I swear to
God."

   I believed her, suddenly.  "Okay," I said with a sharp exhalation. 
"It's just your homework doesn't seem to be very bad here.  If you did all
the work here, there shouldn't be any reason you'd fail on a test.  And you
seemed to be having trouble on the new homework." She went back to not
answering me.  "Okay, obviously I'm no good at this.  Maybe we should just
tell your mother this won't work out.  In the meantime, is there anything
specific you're having trouble with in the new homework?"

   I thought she wasn't going to say anything again, but finally, when I
was about to throw up my hands, she said, "I just have so much trouble
concentrating sometimes."

   "You do?" She nodded.  "Well, that's not so bad.  It's something you can
work on." Or maybe she should ask her mother about being checked for ADD,
but I didn't want to bring that up yet.  "So you don't pay attention in
class because you're distracted, and I guess it takes a while after class
for you to learn it again from the book?"

   "Yeah," she said.

   "Okay.  I'll try to think of ways to help with the concentration issue.
In the meantime, maybe it would be best if we try to go over today's lesson
again so you can get through your homework."

   She opened up her textbook, and found where she had left off.  I sat
next to her on the couch, so we could both read it at the same time.

   It was still pretty easy stuff, just a little more complicated than what
she'd already been doing.  I tried my best to explain it, and although she
was quiet and didn't interrupt, she was fidgeting a lot and I wondered if I
was getting through.  We moved back to the homework afterwards.

   She was still doing poorly.  I tried not to just give her the answers,
since it wouldn't help her at all.  I would just to check her at each step
and let her come to the answer herself.  But she kept making mistakes, and
it wasn't any one unifying misunderstanding that I could detect and
correct.

   It took quite a long time to get through the problems in her homework,
and by that time, I was pretty frustrated.  "Look," I said.  "I'm obviously
no good with this tutoring thing, and these concentration problems you're
having might be more serious than I can help with.  I think I should tell
your mother to get you tested for ADD."

   "No!" she pleaded.  "Please!  I'll try harder next time." Then a flash
of anger crossed her face.  "You swore you wouldn't say anything about what
I told you."

   She had me there.  "You're right.  And I always try to keep my word."
She calmed down a little at that.  "But I really think you should talk to
her about this.  There's no shame in it.  And at the very least, you need a
better tutor than me."

   "No, you were helping fine," she said.  "Can't we try again?  I promise
I'll do better next time.  Please?" She looked me right in the eyes and
gave me that little helpless look I have trouble resisting on a female
face. "Please?"

   I sighed.  "Okay, we'll give it one more try.  But that's enough for
today."

   Later, her mother called me, and I warned her again that I might not be
the right person for a job, but she thanked me for trying and made another
appointment for Thursday.

   **** Chapter Three:

   Thursday rolled around, and shortly after the end of the school day,
there Steph was at my door.  Instead of being done up in a ponytail, this
time her hair was loose, long, and pretty.  I thought about complimenting
her on it, but decided not to, for fear of seeming creepy.  Instead I just
sat her down, asked her how school went.

   "It was okay," she said simply.  Then she frowned.  "We had a quiz, in
math."

   "Oh?  How did you do?"

   She passed it over.  I could tell it was one of those situations where
the teacher had everybody else mark their neighbor's paper instead of doing
any grading him or herself.  It probably meant that it didn't count for
marks, either.  I hoped that was the case, for her sake.

   Stephanie got 2/10, mostly because she didn't finish several questions.
"This isn't good." One of the questions stood out to me.  "We went over
this exact question on Tuesday," I pointed out, a little angrily.  "It was
in the homework.  It just had different numbers.  You should have been able
to get this one."

   "I know," she said.  "I'm sorry.  I just couldn't concentrate!" She
seemed on the verge of tears, which dissipated my anger instantly.

   I tried to be as gentle as I could.  "I think that's the key to your
problem.  If you can't concentrate, even when you really need to..."

   "It's not ADD," she said defensively.

   "Maybe not, but it's something.  What is it that keeps breaking your
concentration?" I asked.

   She hung her head quietly, but didn't respond.

   "Is it worries you're not going to do well?" She shook her head. 
"Something going on with your friends?" Again, a silent head shake.  I
tried to think about other things that teenage girls might obsess over when
they should be doing work.  "Boys?"

   I knew right away I'd hit on something.  She blushed deeply, and this
time\ there was no headshake.  "Oh, I see.  It's a boy." I thought trying
to interact with her on the level of a friend, a peer, might be the best
approach.  "So, what's his name?"

   "It's not like you think," she said.

   "So how is it?" I asked.  "Is it a girl?"

   "No!" she said, and buried her face in her hands.  "I'm not like that."
She took a breath.  "You promise not to tell, right?"

   "Right," I assured her.  "Tutor-student confidentiality." It was an
attempt to lighten the mood, as much for myself as for her.

   "It's just sometimes I get so...  hot down there and it's like, all I
can think about.  It's not just one boy, it's lots of boys, and my math
teacher, and...  and others."

   "Oh." Now I was suddenly uncomfortable, both for the awkward subject,
and the fact that I now had an incredibly sudden erection.  I was glad she
wasn't looking at me, so I could try to adjust it, mentally talk it down,
or at least get it so it wasn't visible.  "Um, that's probably normal. 
It's nothing to be ashamed of.  Guys are like that all the time."

   Except, when guys get like that, we usually just go jack off to relieve
the pressure.  I figured girls masturbated too, at least those that had a
higher than usual sex drive...  some probably just became promiscuous.  But
when you combined a religious mother, and a restriction against dating,
Stephanie might never have learned, or been taught that it was dirty.  I
could hardly imagine all that pressure and no way to relieve it, although I
was experiencing a taste of that with my boner.  So although it was
incredibly difficult, I managed to suggest.  "You know there are ways to
take that off your mind.  To, uhm, safely, satisfy those urges.  Did you
take Sex Ed?" I could only hope that they covered this for girls in those
parts of Sex Ed where the boys and girls were separated...  and that her
mother signed the consent form.

   To my relief, she nodded.  "Yeah, you mean...  masturbation." She
whispered the word.

   "Yeah," I said.  "You might think it's gross or wrong, but it would take
care of the problem."

   "I can't," she said.  I thought she was going to talk about how it was a
sin, that the Bible or her mother said so.  What I got was a much more
mundane answer, and a surprise.  "There's too many people at home.  There's
always somebody there.  I almost never get time to myself.  I share my room
with my sister and sometimes I try but it's just too hard to do it at home.
And there's nowhere else to do it." She trembled as she spoke, the words
spilling out of her quickly, like a long released burden finally shared. 
"Last time I tried it was so embarrassing, my Mom heard me and I had to
pretend I was just having a nightmare."

   Oh, god, cute, horny, and loud.  It was a wonder I didn't try to make a
move on her, but I didn't think she'd have any interest in me, and if I
tried, it would get back to her mother and then it would get back to my
parents.  Even if jail wasn't involved, my life would be ruined.  And as
much as she turned me on at that moment, in her horny, helpless, need, I
also did want to help her.  I could only think of one thing.  "If you
wanted, you could do it here..."

   "What?"

   "Not in front of me," I said quickly.  "I'm not trying to be a perv or
anything.  But you could go into the bathroom, do...  what you need to do,
and then we continue our tutoring session.  I'll stay here.  If it'll help
get...  that, off your mind.  I'll stay right here, watch some TV."

   "Really?"

   "Just don't tell your mother, I'm not sure she'd understand."

   She smiled a little.  "You're right, she wouldn't." She looked from side
to side.  "Now?"

   "If you need to."

   She got up and walked out of the living room, then down the hall to the
bathroom.  I heard the door close, and I turned on the TV.  I was tempted
to do something, go and listen in at the very least, but the floors at my
place had a tendency to creak, and I didn't want to do anything to shatter
what we'd built.  After all, I think it does take a lot of trust to
masturbate in the house of someone you don't know very well, with them
knowing what you're doing.  Then again, maybe she was just THAT horny that
she didn't care.

   So, instead of doing anything, I watched a rerun of the Simpsons and
tried to ignore the fact that a pretty teenage girl was rubbing her pussy
only feet away.  Although I was never able to lose myself in what was on
the screen, at least my erection faded after the first few minutes of
watching Homer's antics.

   The show had just ended when I became aware of a sound.  It was a moan
that turned into a cry, and then cut off suddenly.  If I didn't know
better, I might have thought it was a porn movie, heard through a shared
wall with a neighbor.  My erection was back.  She really was loud.  If it
was like that all the time, no wonder she couldn't do it at home.  I was
lucky I had no neighbors.

   A few minutes later, she came back into the room.  It was like night and
day.  She wasn't tense, or keeping her eyes down, or restrained, it was
like she was free and happy.  She plopped herself right down on the chair.
"Sorry it took so long," she said.

   "No problem.  Shall we try to go over the lesson again?"

   The difference was even more dramatic scholastically.  This time I was
the sexually distracted one, but I was able to cover it well and try to
explain the new concepts in that day's lesson.  Steph now grasped things
easily, sometimes before I finished explaining it.  She made connections,
and she was able to blow through her homework faster than on the previous
Tuesday, even taking into account the half-hour masturbation break.

   "Well, I guess we're done," I said as she successfully completed the
last question.  "I guess we could get a head start on your next lesson if
you wanted, or we could call it a day early."

   "How are you at science?" she asked.  I was feeling pretty good at my
success, so I gave it a shot, although it had been quite some time since I
had to deal with it.

   I was just happy to help, and I think I was able to clarify problems
that had escaped her, until her mother called on her cell phone because it
was time for her to be heading home.  She talked to Stephanie first, and
was excited happily about how she was "getting it" now, and I felt a warm
glow inside, even though I did very little of the work.  Then I talked to
Grace a little, and when she asked me if I was okay with keeping up the
arrangement, I agreed.

   On her way out the door, Stephanie turned to me and got a little shy
again.  "I wanted to thank you, for, ummm...  letting me do what I did."

   "Anytime," I said, automatically.

   "Really?" She seemed surprised at the offer.

   I hadn't actually meant it as an invitation, but it didn't take much
thought.  "I don't see why not.  It certainly seems to make the tutoring go
more smoothly." An idea struck me.  "In fact, since I work from home, I'm
usually going to be here during the day.  If you ever needed to, uhm, clear
your head, before class, or at lunch, so you can focus on what they're
teaching, you're welcome to stop by and use my washroom.  "

   She thought about that, and then smiled brightly.  "Okay.  If you really
don't mind...  maybe I will."

   **** Chapter Four:

   I next saw Stephanie on Monday morning.  She knocked on my door before
school and asked if she could "use the washroom." Of course I let her... 
why would I refuse?  But she didn't stay after her climax, since she had to
rush off to school to avoid being late.

   Tuesday I saw her again for her regular tutoring appointment, and she
started again with a session in the bathroom, rubbing herself off while I
waited and looked over the homework assignments.  She'd had another
in-class quiz that day, and although she did better than the last one, she
only barely passed.  "I should have come here this morning," she said
apologetically.  "I didn't think I'd get so horny before class." She
dropped her voice to nearly a whisper at the word "horny", looking adorably
sheepish about saying it.

   It might seem odd, but despite what was going on, it was mostly just an
ordinary tutoring relationship, with the exception of one little thing,
that she masturbated, privately, before every session, and on a few of the
days between sessions.  Steph was actually a bright kid when she wasn't
distracted by whatever naughty thoughts were going through her head, and
didn't need much tutoring.

   She also opened up to me a little more, as well, calling me by my first
name, asking me general questions, talking about her friends, family, and
life in general.  It was kind of sweet.  I was glad she was just starting
to treat me as a friend, now that I'd helped her out.  I didn't really read
anything into it, even when, one day, she asked me if I had a girlfriend.

   "No," I said simply.  "No, I don't."

   "Oh," she said.  A few seconds later, she followed it up with, "Are you
gay?"

   I laughed.  "No.  I've had girlfriends before, but I guess it was just
never right."

   "So why don't you have one now?"

   I shrugged.  "I don't know.  I guess I'm a little shy," I admitted. 
After all, she confided in me, so the least I could do was confide in her.
"It takes me a long time to get up the nerve to make a move, ask a girl
out, and by the time I do, it's usually too late.  I doubt most of them
would be interested anyway."

   "You should be more confident, Tim," she said.  "I'm sure there are
plenty of girls just waiting for you to make a move."

   I laughed a little, nervously.  "Not really likely.  I don't get out
much." I changed the subject back to her studies then, not wanting to
appear more of a loser than I already felt myself.

   In retrospect, she wasn't suggesting that I be more confident with
women, she was all but telling me to make a move on her.  But I didn't.

   It wasn't that I didn't have any thoughts about Stephanie like that. 
It's just that I tried my best to put them out of my mind, because in
addition to it being illegal, I still thought of her as being innocent. 
Sure, every couple days she furiously rubbed her pussy in my home until she
had a screaming orgasm, but considering she was a teenage girl, flushed
with hormones, apparently cursed with a high sex drive, and yet not
sneaking around with what must have been a mile-long lineup of horny young
boys at school who'd die to be with her?  That seemed like an innocent girl
to me.  I tried to keep my thoughts about her to friendship, with the
occasional fantasy while she was far out of sight.

   In fact, even if she had come on to me directly, I believe I could have
held out, been responsible, told her it wasn't a good idea, advised her to
go after somebody her own age.  I'm not sure, but I think so.

   But that's not how it happened.  She got me at my weak spot.

   I was working, when I heard a little knock at my door.  I got there and
Stephanie was standing there.  It was a bit of a surprise, because it was
the middle of the day.  She must have come to me on her lunch break.  "Hi,"
she said.  "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" Her legs were shaking a
little, and I had to wonder if she actually had to use the bathroom.

   I couldn't help but smile.  "Sure.  Like I said, you're always welcome."

   "Thanks," she said.  "It's just I've got a really big math test today.
Right after lunch."

   "Oh, that was today?" I'd forgotten.

   She disappeared behind the door, and I let her, and went back to work. I
wanted to make myself a sandwich, but the kitchen was right next to the
bathroom, and I really didn't want to intrude.  So I waited.  And waited.

   Eventually, I realized she'd been in there a long time.  Not only was it
taking longer than usual, it was getting late.  I had an idea of how long
it took to get to school from my place, and it was looking very close to
the time where she'd have to leave to get back on time.

   I paced in my living room a while, looking at the clock, hoping I'd hear
her moan in completion and I wouldn't have to go up there, and at the same
time worrying that something might have happened, that she'd fainted from
lack of lunch or slipped on some soap and hit her head.

   Finally, I crept up to the door and rapped on it lightly with my
knuckle. "Stephanie?" I said softly.

   "Yes?" The voice was strained, but at least the worst of my fears were
dispelled.

   "I'm so sorry to bother you, it's just, it's nearly one o'clock.  Is
everything okay?"

   It took a while, but she said.  "No."

   "What's wrong?"

   "I don't know.  I can't seem to finish." I was at a loss for words.  A
few seconds later, she said, "You can come in if you want, the door's
unlocked."

   "Are you sure it's okay?" By which I meant, "Are you decent?" As much as
I wanted to see, I didn't trust myself to not do something if she was
naked.

   "It's okay," she said.

   I opened the door.  She was there, seated on the toilet, sideways so she
was facing me, her knees mostly together and her skirt over her legs.  I
was both disappointed and relieved.  Draped off one of her feet was a pair
of panties, simple, white, and except for their location, completely
innocent.

   "Um...  what's the problem?" I asked.

   She shrugged her shoulder.  "I just can't get...  there.  I'm just so
worried about the test.  I can't concentrate."

   "Well, it's almost time for you to go back.  Maybe you should just go
now," I suggested.

   "But if I do, then during the test I won't be able to concentrate
either," she complained, almost cried.  "And I can't fail another test, my
mother will kill me."

   "I'm sure you'll do fine." She didn't seem convinced.  "I'm not really
sure what to do," I admitted.  I was getting pretty embarrassed.  "Do you
want me to try to get you something?"

   "Please," she said.  "Could you just...  help me?"

   "I don't think that's a good idea," I hedged, although at this point I
so wanted her to tell me that it was.

   "Please," she said again.  It was the please that did it, as usual.  I
was showing monumental levels of self-restraint as it was, and one more
please was all it took to make it fall apart.  But she continued, "I really
need it.  Please."

   "Okay," I said.  "I'll try to help." I stepped completely into the room
and knelt down on the cold tile floor.

   Stephanie spread her legs apart and pulled back her skirt, flipping it
back over her waist.  There she was, open to me.  Her pussy was a little
puffy, but closed in, just tight outer lips with space for a clit, the top
being almost an Y-shape instead of dividing evenly.  She had a little pubic
hair, though it wasn't out of control, just a nice dark triangle.

   I got in close for a good look, and to let her feel my breath.  It was
very wet already, probably from her attempts on her own; I could see her
juices smeared around her slit and her pubic hair.

   I'd never claim to be the world's greatest lover, but without fear of
egotism, I'm good at oral sex.  My desire to please women extended to the
few girlfriends I had, and I was more than willing to eat them out,
sometimes for an hour at a time.  I never got any complaints, and plenty of
compliments.  I suspected my last girlfriend stayed with me mostly for the
feeling of my tongue wiggling around inside of her.

   So, my hesitation wasn't due to a lack of confidence, it was a worry
over what I was getting myself into, the knowledge that I was crossing a
line that could easily end my life as I knew it...  and, because
anticipation can be as important a part of arousal as the sex itself.

   I began laying soft kisses on her thigh, near where it met her pelvis,
and then planted a trail of them over to her pussy itself.  It smelled and
tasted like sweat, with a hint of both sourness and sweetness.  When I
reached her slit, I ran my tongue along the groove, teasing but never
attacking her clit.  I heard her breath catch in her throat several times.

   There's an old joke about the trick to eating pussy...  spelling out the
alphabet with your tongue.  It's not quite like that, but it's close,
especially for the first time, a lot of different types of movements and
different areas, until you know what works best for that particular girl.
Stephanie seemed to like it most when I ran my tongue upward towards her
clit, for whenever I did she pushed herself into me and grunted a little.

   I added my finger to the efforts after about a minute of just licking.
It slid gently into her hole with only a little resistance to make the
labia part, and then they closed tight around it again.  I curled it up
inside and stroked the inside as I kept kissing her on the outside.

   She "Ohhhhed," softly and her knees closed around my ears as though to
keep me from drawing back, but I could still move up and down, which I did.
She continued to moan for the next minute or so.  I alternated kissed and
licks up her slit, and this time when my lips touched her clit softly, her
hand pressed to the back of my head, keeping me there.  I sucked on it.

   "Oh god," Stephanie screamed, her whole lower body squirming toward or
around me, and then her scream became a wordless cry, pleasure, not pain,
although an outside observer might have trouble telling the difference.  It
was the same sound I'd heard from the other room, only it seemed much more
loud and intense in person than I would have imagined it, like the old
Stephanie was dying and a new one was being born.

   And it was over; her body went limp, like it was incapable of any more
effort except for heavy breathing.  Those breaths sounded like she'd just
run a marathon, deep breaths that became shallower and shallower as her
heart rate returned to normal.  I pulled my finger out of her and my lips
off her and began to pull back.  I had a hard on, and I wanted to get away
before I got too tempted to take care of it then and there.  I was already
ashamed at what I'd done to a fourteen-year-old girl.

   She didn't let me go.  She scooted her butt backward so she could lean
forward and take my head in her hands.  She pulled me up, face to face, but
I only got to look at her beautiful, relaxed, angelic visage for a second
before she kissed me, right on the lips, not caring that they were fresh
with the juice of her other lips.

   I didn't kiss back, not exactly, but I didn't fight it either, just let
it happen, let her tongue slip in between my own lips.  We held it for a
few seconds, before I broke off.  "Thank you," she said.

   "Happy to help," I said feeling a little foolish.  I had convinced
myself that it wasn't like we were dating, or lovers, I'd just helped her
with a biological problem.  My whole participation hadn't taken long, only
a few minutes...  she must have been very close already, and just needed
somebody to push her over the edge.  Now that it was over, it didn't seem
right to stick around.  "I'll let you get ready to go back to school, I
said, and backed out towards the door.

   She came out a minute or two later.  "Do you need a ride back?" I
offered.

   She checked her cell-phone to see the time.  "No, you've done enough.  I
think I can make it.  But I've got to go."

   Just like that, she was gone, headed down the stairs.  It was just as
well.  There was another person in that apartment who needed to cum.

   **** Chapter Five:

   I actually wasn't sure Steph would come to the next tutoring session...
I worried that she'd regretted what happened or would be too embarrassed or
scared about what might happen if she showed up next time as usual.  I was
also scared she'd tell somebody else.

   But, she showed up as she usually did, smiling at me like I was an old
friend.  I guess we were certainly closer, but I wasn't sure how close.

   "Hey, how was the test?"

   "Good," she said.  "We haven't gotten it back yet, but I think I did
well.  A couple questions I'm not sure on.  Thanks."

   "No problem.  So, what do you want to get started on today?" Immediately
after a test, it was unlikely she had new math material to learn, although
she may have wanted help with some of her other subjects.

   "I don't know," she said.  "But first, I kind of need to clear my head."
She lowered her voice into a husky, breathy, almost seductive whisper.

   "Oh, right," I said.  "Go right ahead."

   She looked at me like I'd just called her fat.  "Do you think you can
help me again?"

   I rubbed my face.  "I really don't think that's a good idea, Stephanie.
I could get in a lot of trouble for what happened already, and it's
probably best..."

   "Please, Tim?" she broke in, taking a step towards me.  "I think it
would go faster with your help.  It would save so much time, and we could
use that for more studying."

   Once again, all she needed to say was please.  Minutes later I had my
tongue working up and down her pussy, usually with the help of a finger or
two as well.  It took longer for her to cum than the first time, but I
still managed it quicker than she did when she touched herself.  After we
were done, she kissed me again, I felt all awkward and left, and in a few
minutes we went back to normal tutoring behavior.

   It went on like that for about a week.  She still stopped over about the
same amount, sometimes before school, sometimes at lunch, and always at the
regular tutoring sessions, but instead of masturbating, I ate her out to an
orgasm.  Immediately after, she always kissed me on the lips...  it was
like a ritual, a thank you kiss.  I never tried to press for more, being
very conscious that she was a minor and that if I tried to get her to do
something she didn't want to, it could all end.  I just enjoyed it for what
it was.

   What changed it was at one of our regular tutoring sessions, the day
Stephanie got her test back.  She appeared in the doorway, smiling as
usual, and with her hands behind her back.  As soon as I closed the door,
she chirped happily, "Guess what?" She didn't even give me a chance to
guess, just pulled the paper out from behind her back and handed it to me.

   It was an A.  "Wow, that's great," I said.

   "I got the highest in the class.  I bet the teacher would have thought I
was copying off somebody if I didn't do better than everybody around me."
Impulsively, she stepped forward to hug me.

   "I'm proud of you." I returned the embrace, but a little stiffly.

   "It's not like I did it on my own," she said.  "If it wasn't for your
help, Tim..."

   "No, you did do it on your own.  If I did anything, it was just to help
you relax enough for your own talent to come through."

   She let go of me.  "Speaking of which." She bit her lip, and pulled me
towards the bathroom.

   After she'd had her orgasm, and kissed me, I stood up, ready to go back
to the living room, where the studying took place.  She grabbed my hand and
kept me from walking away.  When I looked back, I saw she was staring at my
crotch.  I had an erection, as I always did, and it was visible under my
pants.

   "Wait," she said.  "I've been thinking.  You've been helping me all this
time, it's only right that I help you, too, right?"

   "You don't have to do that," I said, wanting her to disagree with me.

   Instead, she just unbuttoned my pants, and then worked the zipper.  I
didn't interfere.  My cock sprang free from my boxers, hard, bobbing lazily
towards her face.  She stared at it for a while in fascination.

   "Have you ever done this before?" I asked.

   She shook her head.  "I've never even seen one, not a real one, not when
it's big like this." She wrapped her little hand around the base.  I
thought perhaps, if she was being honest about her lack of experience,
she'd just play with it a while, but she must have seen some videos,
because she leaned forward and put it right in her mouth.  Her lips closed
over it, and she began sliding it up and down.

   I groaned with the pleasure, and she looked up at me with her beautiful
eyes, pleased she was pleasing me.  I let her continue for about a minute,
before I pushed back on her shoulders.  "Was I doing it wrong?" she asked,
adorably scared and insecure.

   "No," I said softly.  "No, not at all, it's great, but...  you know what
happens when you do that for a while, right?"

   She nodded.  "Sperm comes out."

   "Right.  And it can get messy.  I don't want you to get any stains on
your uniform." While that was absolutely true, mostly I wanted to see her
naked.  It was odd, but all I'd seen of her private parts was her pussy,
and what little of her ass I saw from that angle.

   "Oh.  Right." I backed off as she stood up, and she pulled the vest over
her head.  I took it and hung it on the towel rack.  She unfastened her
skirt and let it fall to the floor, then kicked it to the side.  I could
see her pussy under her white shirt, at that point, and even though I'd
just spent ten minutes staring at it, I looked again.  It's one of those
things you never got tired of seeing.

   She unfastened the tie and unbuttoned the shirt, removing both.  I hung
it on a hook on the back of the door.  She stood before me, wearing only a
faded yellow bra.  It didn't look like she really needed a bra.  "Should I
take it off?" she said, catching me staring.

   "You don't have to," I said, "but it might be a good idea.  Wouldn't
want to get it dirty."

   She reached behind her and undid the clasp, then quickly got out of it.
She didn't try to cover her breasts, but she looked uncomfortable bearing
them, too.  "They're not very big," she said.

   "But they are beautiful." I wasn't lying, either.  They were B's at
best, and small for that, but standing out proudly, more proudly that Steph
herself stood.  Her nipples were tiny cones, a very light brown in color.

   "You're just saying that to be nice."

   "No, it's true.  You're really pretty."

   She looked down.  At first, I thought it might have been in
embarrassment, but she was staring at my dick again.  She got down on her
knees, and once again I was in her mouth.  I'd had some better blowjobs,
but I don't think I was ever anybody's first, which made it somehow hotter
than all of the rest.

   She kept it up for several minutes before I knew I was very close...  I
was pretty close when we started.  "Okay, I'm going to cum soon," I warned
her.

   Her mouth came off me, a little trail of spit still connecting us for a
second after that before it broke.  She then held me in her hand.  I was on
the edge.  The slightest movement would have triggered the spasms I
couldn't stop.  She didn't move at all, though.  "What do I do?"

   "It depends on whether you want to swallow, or not.  If you do, put it
back in your mouth.  If not, I guess we could squirt it in the toilet."

   "What do you want me to do?"

   "I'd like your mouth better, but..." I didn't finish.  She put her lips
over the head of my penis again, and that sensation was more than enough.
The pressure built up along my shaft and then I exploded, releasing what
felt like an incredible amount of cum into her.  It was followed by another
explosion, and another, and another.  I closed my eyes out of habit so I
missed the sight of her swallowing.

   When I was done, I pulled out of my mouth and let out the breath I
usually held while cumming.  She looked up and asked, "Did I do good?"

   "Yeah, you did great," I said.

   She didn't seem to believe me.  "But you were so quiet."

   That was true.  I didn't have to share a room like she did, but when I
was a teenager my room was right beside my parents', and I didn't want to
risk them hearing me, so I got into the habit of being as quiet as
possible. I'd only groaned a couple times during the whole event, and was
dead silent while cumming.  "It's just the way I am.  Believe me, that was
great." Except, now that I'd gotten off, the guilt returned.  "But we
probably shouldn't do that again."

   She frowned and stood up from the floor.  "I knew I wasn't good."

   "That's not it.  It's just I really shouldn't be doing this with you. 
Any of it.  I could get into a lot of trouble."

   "I won't tell."

   "It doesn't matter.  I shouldn't be letting you do it."

   "But you want it, don't you?"

   "Yeah, but sometimes there are more important things than what I want.
It's not right for me to do things like that with you.  You should be doing
this stuff with somebody your own age, or not at all.  Not with me.  It
doesn't matter how much I wanted it.  Licking you, at least I could tell
myself I was helping you, but if you're doing stuff to me, that's totally
different.  So we have to stop this, okay?"

   She was quiet, and still standing there, naked, adorable, but looking
dejected.  I knew I'd offended her.  Impulsively, I kissed her on the
cheek. "Thank you, really.  You've given me a memory I'll treasure all my
life.  But it shouldn't happen again.  I'm trying to look out for you."
After a pause, I said, "We should get back to tutoring.  I'll meet you out
there after you get dressed."

   As I might have expected, that put a damper on the tutoring session.  We
went through the motions of doing practice homework questions, but our
conversation was stilted.  I let her go early and spent the next few days
worrying that she would get mad and tell her Mom.

   **** Chapter Six:

   I didn't see her until the next scheduled tutoring session.  She didn't
come visit me before class to rub away her horniness, or even just to say
hi as she had sometimes done.  So I was a little relieved to hear her
coming up the stairs for our regular appointment.

   I honestly wasn't sure what was going to happen.  I was certainly
willing to let her continue to masturbate in my bathroom again, but I
hadn't decided whether I'd continue to help her if she wanted, or try to
back out of that, too.  I suppose by not deciding, I'd already decided,
since if she asked me, I didn't think I'd be able to refuse.

   I thought at first she'd chosen to stop having me help, for instead of
going towards the washroom, she went to sit down in the living room,
folding her skirt down under her legs primly as she sat down.  Straight to
business, I thought.  I was disappointed, but I couldn't blame her.

   Then she spoke.  "I've been thinking a lot about what you said last
time, Tim." At least it was a positive sign that she didn't revert to using
my last name again.

   "Oh?" I sat down as well, a safe distance away for this conversation.

   "You said you were just trying to help me."

   "That's all I wanted.  I probably just went too far."

   "I don't really need your help tutoring me in school anymore," she said.

   My heart fell.  I didn't realize how much I'd come to enjoy that until
that moment, and not just for the little sexual routine we had.  Just to
help her, to have her presence, to hear her laugh, talk about her life like
I was a friend.  The prospect of losing all that hurt.  In the face of all
that hurt, what I said was, "Oh."

   "I mean, it helps, but mostly if I get distracted in class because I
haven't cum, and I have to catch up."

   "Uh-huh," I said, trying to console myself with the thought that it was
probably for the best, so that I wouldn't be tempted to take advantage of
an innocent girl more than I already had.

   "So, if you really want to help me, there's something else I need
tutoring in." I was about to ask, but she gave the answer before I could.
"Sex stuff." She blushed and looked away.

   Oh god.  "I told you, that's really not the best idea."

   "But you said you wanted to help me.  This will help me.  I'm not
allowed a boyfriend for another two years.  Most of my friends already have
them.  Lots of them have already had sex.  If I don't have somebody to
teach me, I won't know what to do.  I need somebody to practice with... 
and I still need to have an orgasm every few days or I get too horny to
think."

   "Steph," I said, but trailed off.  I couldn't find a problem with her
logic, but I was self-aware enough to know that's because part of me didn't
want to.

   "And if you won't help me anymore, then maybe I'll just have to sneak
around with a boy.  And we'll have to do it at his place or at school and
we might get caught.  Or he might tell somebody and ruin my reputation.  Or
maybe he'll treat me badly, or not be any good.  But I know you won't do
that, you're not a boy, you're a man, and you care about me and I already
KNOW you're good and that you won't tell anybody." It all came tumbling out
rapidly, as though rehearsed, but not quite enough.  Then she looked at me,
right in the eyes, and said, "Please?  Please, you'll help me, won't you?"

   What else could I do?  "Okay," I said.

   She brightened immediately.  "Oh, thank you, thank you.  Can we start
now?"

   "If you want." If I was going down the road to Hell, I might as well get
an early start.

   She asked if we could do it in the bedroom, and I complied, taking her
there.  I took off my shirt, and taking that as a cue, she started
stripping down as well.  "So, do you have any questions you were wondering
about?" I asked, trying to get into the role of a tutor.  I knew that
taking it seriously was the only thing that would keep me from beating
myself up with guilt over what I was doing with an underage girl.

   "Not right now." She was in her bra and panties.  Mismatched, a blue bra
and white panties.  I found it endearing.  "We're really going to do it? 
Have actual sex?"

   Eager beaver.  If she was this excited about all her classes, she never
would have needed tutoring.  "No, I don't think so," I said after a
moment's thought.

   "Why not?  I thought..."

   "Not yet," I said.  "First of all, because I don't have any condoms
right now..."

   "I'm on the pill," she said quickly.

   "You are?" She nodded.  "But your Mom won't even let you date until
you're sixteen, why would you be on the pill..."

   "She put me on it when I turned thirteen.  She doesn't want me winding
up like my Mom." A look of sadness crossed her features for a moment.  "I
mean, my real Mom." She hadn't talked much about her to me, only that
sometimes she wished she knew her better.  I knew her name was Michele and
that she got pregnant very young, in her early-teens.  So I guess it did
make sense that Grace would put Steph on the pill, despite her normally
conservative leanings.

   "Oh," I said.

   She brightened again.  "So we don't need condoms.  You can even cum
inside me.  Unless you have some kind of disease..."

   "No, it's not that," I said.  "But I still think we should wait."

   "Why?" she said with a pout.

   "It can hurt the first time.  I know how tight you are, I can barely get
two fingers in you." And that was very tight.  "I don't want to hurt you.
We'll work up to it, okay?  Just not today." Maybe I was just a little
scared.  I'd never been a girl's first.

   "Okay," she conceded.

   I was nervous stripping completely nude.  She'd seen my cock before, but
there's something very vulnerable about being completely nude in front of
somebody.  But as she took off her bra, I took off the last of my clothes
and got on the bed.  She climbed up beside me.  She'd looked me all over,
but her eyes kept returning to my dick, which in turn made it harder and it
jerked up and down as though it had a life of its own.

   "If you want to touch it, you can," I offered.

   Stephanie reached out and wrapped her hands around it.  "What's it feel
like?  When it's hard?"

   "It feels good," I said.  How does one describe it to someone who
doesn't have one?  "It feels like it's just become the most important part
of my body.  And it really likes being touched."

   She moved her hand over it.  "How do you do it, when you jerk off?"

   I covered her hand with mine, and moved it gently up and down.  After a
while, I let go and she continued the motion on her own.  I let her
continue rubbing me for a minute or two, but I didn't want to cum just yet.
"Do you mind if I touch you for a while?" I asked.

   She looked back at me and smiled.  "You don't have to ask, you touch me
all the time."

   "I just want to be sure.  Lie back." She let go of me, and fell to her
back, beside me, looking up at me.  "Now, if you ever want me to stop, or
not touch you somewhere, you can tell me, okay?"

   "You can do anything to me you want," she said, staring me right in the
eyes with perfect trust.  I almost decided to forget my earlier decision
and try to fuck her right then.

   "Okay.  But remember, sex is a two-way street.  In fact, the most
important thing a girl can do is be honest about what she likes and doesn't
like.  Unless a guy is a total jerk, what he really wants will be to please
you."

   "That's not what I heard about guys," she said.  "I heard they just care
about getting off."

   "Those are boys, usually.  But even if they are selfish, knowing they
made you feel good is still an ego boost." I turned on my side began
stroking her softly with just one hand.  Arms, hips, stomach, cupped each
little breast and gave it a squeeze.  I was going for sensual, rather than
the outright sexual contact I'd had with her in the bathroom.  I watched as
her nipples hardened, and then ran my fingertips over them.

   Impulsively I kissed one, then the other, and my hand drifted down
between her legs.  She was already wet, but then she usually got wet fast.
The lips of her pussy parted easily, and as I rubbed, I continued kissing
wherever the mood struck me, she gave soft little whimpers of joy that I
took to be indications that I was doing a good job, although it took a few
minutes before she verbally told me anything she wanted.

   "Can you...  can you kiss me?" she asked.

   I had been kissing her all this time, little ones planted on her neck,
shoulders, ears while my fingers made circles in her pussy, but I knew what
she meant.  I tilted my head up and joined her mouth to mine.  It wasn't
our first kiss, since we had our little ritual after I ate her out, but it
was more hungry and passionate than any before.  My tongue entered her
mouth and wrestled with hers.  I tasted a faint hint of strawberry, from
her lip gloss.  As I kissed her I thrust my middle finger inside her.  I
thought it was still too tight for my dick in there.

   After we kissed for a minute or two, she said, "Let me make you feel
good too."

   She already was, but my dick was demanding attention.  So I said, "Get
on top of me." I laid down flat, on my back.  She quickly spun on top of
me, her pussy pushing my dick against my stomach.  "Errr, other way," I
said.  "I still want to lick your little pussy."

   "Oh," she said, and smiled, then turned around, so her butt was facing
me.  It's amazing how a skinny little ass has its own character, different
from others.  Most of the girls I've been with had respectable asses... 
mostly not fat, but well-rounded.  Stephanie's was small, tight, and
somehow seemed happier looking than any other.  But I was more interested
in her snatch.  I grabbed hold of her little legs to help her into
position, pussy right over my face, and resumed my licking, from a new
angle.

   While I did, I could feel her hands stroking my erect rod, a little
awkwardly...  she didn't have the best rhythm to be good at hand jobs yet,
but it was exciting enough just knowing she was there.  Then, she took me
into her mouth.

   She was better this time than last.  More confident, certainly, and her
tongue moved a lot more, although she didn't get much more than the head
in. It felt pretty damn good, but I didn't want to focus on those
sensations, because I knew I'd last longer if I was focused on making her
cum.

   I teased her with my tongue, licking towards, but not on, the clit, like
she liked and worked first one, then two, fingers in.  She was tight around
me.  She didn't seem to have a hymen, but I believed her when she said she
hadn't done anything with anybody else.  Lots of girls lost their hymen in
other ways.  It was probably for the best, since I didn't want to hurt her.

   I don't know how long we stayed like that, in a sixty-nine, but it was a
while, and then I noticed she was bucking her groin into me and, with her
mouth still around my stick, making little groans I could feel.  Finally,
the walls of her pussy began almost spasming around my fingers.  I knew she
was just about there.  My cock slipped out of her mouth and she started her
usual scream of pleasure.

   I'd never known a girl who screamed that consistently vocal when she
came.  I'd dated some yellers, but it was always occasional, or deliberate.
With Stephanie, it was like a reflex, when she came, she had to let
something deep and primal loose from within her.  It was incredibly erotic
to be so reminded of her pleasure.  In fact, even though her lips had left
my cock, her screams alone made me start to cum.  My cock was sticking
straight up because she had one hand on it, and I squirted up at her. 
Some, but not all, of it dripped back down.

   When we'd both recovered, she turned around and looked at me.  Cum was
dripping down her chin and neck, and some was on her boobs.  "Sorry," I
said sheepishly.  "I couldn't hold out."

   She grinned, her braces flashing at me.  "It's okay.  But I think I need
a Kleenex."

   **** Chapter Seven:

   Stephanie had a shower to clean herself up, and then we spent the rest
of our tutoring time just talking, sometimes about sex and some of the
questions she had that weren't answered in school, and sometimes just about
our lives.  We also wound up doing a little real schoolwork.  As she worked
on a few math problems I sat beside her and I fingered her a little again,
but not to another orgasm.  When we were done, I kissed her goodbye, on the
mouth, which perhaps put the lie to the whole tutor justification, but it
went unremarked upon.

   The next day, she came to visit me during lunch, and I ate her out to
another orgasm and she gave me a blow job, the best ever, swallowing my cum
down again.  The day after, Thursday, was our regular tutoring day, but she
came to me in the morning again so I could get her off.  I was able to get
three fingers in her pussy, and so I told her that I had a surprise for her
after school.

   She got to my apartment so quickly after school that she must have
practically sprinted, and the first thing she asked was, "What's the
surprise?"

   "I think, if you want, you're ready to have sex.  Real sex." That was
something of an exaggeration.  The truth was, I didn't think I could hold
off any longer.

   Stephanie smiled coquettishly and said, "I was hoping it might be that.
Race you to the bedroom?"

   She won, but then I had to stop in the bathroom.  The other day, I'd
bought a little bottle of lube, as well as some condoms, just in case she
changed her mind.  I also scored some Viagra...  not that I needed it, but
I was so excited I didn't want to psyche myself out and make it a poor
experience for her first time.  I'd taken that little pill already, though,
and Stephanie would never know.

   When I reached the bedroom, she was already on the bed, pulling off her
panties.  "Spread your legs," I told her.  "We still need to make sure
you're nice and relaxed."

   "I like relaxing."

   "And I like relaxing you..." She spread herself before me and lay back,
and I knelt at the edge of the bed and began my usual ritual, licking her
to get her started, then inserting one finger and stroking the inside.  A
few minutes later, I moved up to two, and then on to three, running them in
and out and trying to stretch her.

   "Do you think you're ready?" I asked finally.

   "You wouldn't believe how ready I am," she said.

   "Do you want me to use a condom?"

   She shook her head.  "Tim...  I trust you."

   I stood up and stroked my cock a little, a habit to make sure it was at
its hardest, but I didn't think at that point it was possible for it to be
harder.  "Is there any position you want to do?"

   We'd talked before about some of the most common, the benefits of them
for the girl and the guy.  "Can we do it face to face the first time?" she
said.  "We can do the others later." I admired that optimism.

   She was already pretty much in missionary position, so all I had to do
was position myself.  I got the lube up and spread it on my dick and some
on her pussy, although she didn't seem to need much.  I paused, rubbing the
head of my penis between her labia, fascinated, scarcely able to believe
what I was doing.

   Then I pushed forward.  She made a little noise, but I was only a bit
thicker than she'd already become accustomed to.  It was incredibly tight,
but I was able to push through and sink myself deeper into her.  "You
okay?" I said, when I got as deep as I could comfortably go.

   She nodded, and I began thrusting back and forth with my hips.  As I
did, I gradually sank towards her, so that soon we were practically
kissing. Then there was no practically about it.  She started kissing me,
like it was an impulse she couldn't control, again and again, as I entered
her.  I kissed back.  It wasn't the mouth kisses that stuck with me.  I
loved them, loved the slightly playful resistance of her tongue writhing
against mine, but after we broke, she often immediately kissed me again and
missed my lips, landing between my lip and my nose, with a little "mmm"
sound that reverberated throughout my body.  Those are the kisses I
remembered over the next few days, as though they left an indelible
impression on my body, and it's those kisses that I may remember until the
day I die.

   After a minute or two of kissing, she turned her head to the side and
moaned softly in pleasure, and I moved on to kiss her neck.  She wrapped
her own arms around my neck and held as I continued to pump in and out with
greater speed, now knowing she was into it...  she was getting to that
vocal stage.

   Her cunt began squeezing my dick and she started yelling, "Oh, god, I
love...  I love fucking...  more, more..." And she screamed, right in my
ear, almost deafening me, but also causing me to lose control.  I thrust
forward one last time and held myself there, so that when I came inside
her, she was feeling all of me.  I must have cum more than ever before.

   We stayed coupled while I squirted blast after blast inside her.  She
stopped her scream before I was done, then kissed me again, on the lips,
and we held it as the last of my cum leaked into her.

   Afterwards, I rolled off of her, and we caught our breath.  I
immediately began to feel guilty again.  I'd taken her virginity, something
that should have been a special moment in her life, something done with
somebody she loved.  Mine wasn't like that, I was just interested in losing
it and the girl I was with was kind of easy, and we were both drunk, and
I'd always regretted I hadn't waited for somebody I really cared about. 
Yet I'd just deprived Stephanie of that exact experience, and made her
first time be part of a business arrangement.  It felt like I had turned
her into a whore, even though I was the one being paid.

   She looked at me and smiled, which made me feel a little better, but
only a little.  "Is it always like that?" she asked.

   "Usually it gets even better with practice."

   She cuddled up to me and put her arm over my chest as she snuggled
against my shoulder.  "It's hard to believe it could get better.  But I'm
willing to get a lot of practice."

   I was still a little hard, probably owing to the pill, but I wasn't
quite ready to go again right away.  Still, we fucked once more that day,
in the shower.  She wrapped her arms around my neck and she rode me
standing up while I held her, but it was already getting late and she had
to get home.  We parted with a long hug and then I walked her to the bus
stop.

   I felt guilty afterwards, but also felt giddy, like I was a teenager
again myself.  I tried to keep detached, emotionally, but it felt like I
couldn't wait to see her again...  not just to have sex, but even just to
be around her.  I kept having fantasies...  silly, outrageous ones, like me
somehow taking her to one of her school dances, or having her pregnant with
my child.  I didn't know at that point that the truth would one day get a
lot weirder than my fantasies.

   Friday, we did it again...  she stopped by my place during her lunch
break.  We managed to arrange a meeting on Saturday afternoon, when she was
supposed to be at the mall, but instead, we were fucking (and then I
dropped her back off at the mall so Grace could pick her up).  Monday, she
came over both before school and after.  Before, I just ate her out and she
gave me a quick blowjob, and after I had sex with her doggy-style, with her
still wearing her school uniform.  She couldn't stay long that day because
she was expected at home, so it was just a quick fuck, but she told me she
couldn't wait until our regular tutoring session, where we could have more
time.  It was comforting, having that regular time together where she
didn't have to sneak around or rush.  Her mother knew where she was, if not
why, and we could take our time with each other.  As much as I liked the
before or after school quickies, or the noon visits, I loved the couple
hours of our regular tutoring sessions most, and I think she did too. 
Neither of us knew that it would be the last before everything changed.

   **** Chapter Eight:

   She showed up as her usual time that Tuesday, and after a few minutes
talking about our respective days, we went into the bedroom where we both
stripped down naked.  I still liked eating her out a little to get her
ready, so I got started.  After a few minutes of warming her up, she
grabbed my hair and gently pulled me up to look her in the eyes.  "I want
you inside me," she told me.

   I climbed up beside her, lying down, both of us on our sides.  "What
position do you want to try?" I asked.

   "I don't know," she said, but slid up close to me, and I put my arms
around her instinctively.  "What do you want?"

   I'd had my ideas, but since we were pretty well spooning already, I
thought I'd give it a try.  I curled around her and adjusted myself so that
I could enter easily.  She was already wet and lubed up...  after that
first time, we rarely needed to use the lube anymore, especially if I'd
spent time licking her pussy or fingering her first.

   We rocked back and forth, me hugging her tight and kissing her neck,
inhaling the floral fragrance of her hair.  I couldn't get up as much force
as I did in other positions, but there was a nice feeling of closeness.  We
seemed to be at it for a while, and as she started to moan, I started
getting ahead of myself.  I thought of how nice it would be to make her
scream again.

   I shot off inside of her too soon.  It was embarrassing...  I know it's
actually pretty usual for the guy to get off before the girl, but until
this point I'd managed to make sure she was satisfied before I was, or at
practically the same time.  I either hadn't gotten her close enough orally,
or the position wasn't as pleasurable for her.  Either way, I felt like I'd
let her down.

   She realized quickly that I wasn't thrusting with the force I had been.
"Did you cum?" she asked, turning her head towards me.

   "Yeah," I said, sheepishly.  "I'm sorry."

   "You don't have to be sorry.  I like it."

   "But I didn't make you cum."

   "It's still really good even if I don't," she said.

   I wasn't satisfied.  "I'll use my fingers," I said.

   She rolled over and faced me, letting my cock slip out of her, and then
closed the distance again.  Our heads touched, and she smiled.  "Always
thinking of me," she said.  "That's one of the reasons I love you, Tim."
Suddenly, her smile faded, and her face froze.  "Shit," she said.  "I'm
sorry.  Forget I said it."

   "You love me?" I repeated, dumbly.  Somehow it never occurred to me as a
possibility.

   "Forget I said it," she said again.  "Please.  I shouldn't have said it.
I'm sorry."

   "Why are you sorry?"

   "Because I know you're just tutoring me, you're not in love with me. 
We're just tutor and student...  with benefits.  My friend Rachel has a lot
of friend with benefits...  she said guys don't like it when you say the
L-word, when it's just supposed to be sex, you know.  So just forget it,
okay?  It was a stupid mistake."

   "Was it true?"

   She bit her lip and her eyes flicked back and forth while she considered
what would be the best answer to give.  "Yes," she said finally.  "I know
you don't, and that's okay, just, please, don't end it?  There's still
plenty you can teach me, even if you're don't love me."

   "I think I love you too," I said after I spent a few moments deciding
whether or not to say it, or say anything.

   I expected happiness.  What I got was disbelief.  "You don't have to say
that," she said.  "I know it's not true."

   "It is."

   "Then why didn't you say anything?"

   "Because it's wrong," I said.  "I'm not supposed to.  I could go to jail
if anybody found out what we were doing."

   "I'd never tell," she promised.  "Besides, I came on to you."

   "It doesn't matter.  Guys my age aren't supposed to be in love with
girls your age."

   "Stupid law," she said with a pout.

   "No, it's a good law mostly.  Lots of people would take advantage of
girls if it didn't exist." I had taken advantage of her, in many ways.

   "But it sucks for us."

   "Yeah.  It means we can't be together."

   "We ARE together," she pointed out.

   "Not really.  Just in this little apartment a few times a week."

   "That's enough for me," she said, "if I know you really love me.  Maybe
in a few years..."

   In a few years, I suspected she would either have come to hate me, or
have moved on to find a boy her own age.  It wasn't what I wanted to
happen, but I expected it.  "Maybe.  If we can keep it a secret until
you're 18, and out of school, we can try to get together publicly then."
She practically beamed, and I couldn't help but grin too.  "Of course, your
mother will probably kill me."

   "When I'm 18, I'm out of the house," she said.  "I don't care what she
thinks."

   **** Chapter Nine:

   We kissed, and I reminded her we had some unfinished business, but she
just shook her head.  "I'd rather wait until you're ready again.  Then I
can cum with you inside me." So, instead, we just cuddled together, and
talked, about all sorts of things, but mostly our feelings...  how they
started, and where they might be going.

   I learned she thought I was cute for a few years, from one of the times
when her family came over to dinner at my parents' place.  Even though we'd
never talked much directly, it was one of the reasons she kept coming along
with Grace instead of staying home.  However, despite that attraction, she
only fell in love with me here, while I was doing my best to help her with
her problems and we began to talk.  I told her how I'd also found her
attractive from the beginning, recently I'd been lying awake the last few
nights thinking about her, those impossible fantasies of marrying her.

   She heard my stomach growl and we took a break, dressed, and went into
the kitchen, where she insisted on making me a sandwich, since we couldn't
do most of the things boyfriends and girlfriends did.  It was a good
sandwich, she did all the little things that I never bothered with while
making a sandwich, like adding a tomato and mayonnaise, and cutting it in
half for easier eating.  It was nice...  not just the sandwich itself, but
having someone who cared enough to put in the extra effort, and her saying
she liked taking care of me.  We returned to the living room where we
talked more until we started making out on the couch.

   Before long, I was getting hard again.  She felt it growing beneath her
and grinned, then slid off of me and unzipped my pants.  "Looks like you're
ready again," she said as she pulled my cock free.  She gave it a kiss,
then a long suck, then stood up and started to undress again.  She'd left
her panties off under her skirt and her bra off under her top, so she
quickly took her top off and shimmied out of her kilt, then pounced back on
me.

   Steph was straddling my legs, and in a series of small movements began
to shuffle forward.  I just watched, a silly grin on my face.  I reached
towards her and cupped her ass in my hands, drawing her even closer towards
me.  She took the last move, gently grabbing my dick and lifting herself on
top of it.  She slid down on me, the weight settling down on me with me
inside her.

   She rocked slowly back and forth at first, but then quickly gained in
speed, bouncing up and down, and we were both getting into it, when we were
interrupted.  A shrill sound, part of a popular song, came out of her
phone.

   "Damn, that's my Mom," she said.

   "I guess we should stop."

   She grinned wickedly, and then reached down to her bag, which was lying
beside the couch, and pulled her phone from a side pocket.  She stopped her
movements then, and I tried my best to be absolutely still.  "Hi," she
said. I could hear Grace's voice on the other end of the phone, but
couldn't make out what she was saying.  Steph frowned, and glanced at the
clock.  "Oh, sorry.  I must have lost track of time." Then she met my eye
and smiled slyly again.  "I've been working on something really hard."

   My dick jerked involuntarily at that, and, as though in response,
Steph's hole gave it a tighter squeeze.  I half-grinned, half-winced,
terrified at how we might get caught at any moment but also turned on by
the fact it was going on right when Grace could hear.

   "No, you don't have to," she said.  "I'm sure I'll be coming real soon."
With excruciating slowness, she raised herself up, letting about half of my
shaft out of her pussy, but then slid back down again, testing how fast she
could move without making noise.  "Yes, Tim's a really good tutor," she
said.  "I'm learning so much."

   By now I just wanted her to get off the phone, or off me, I was near a
state of panic, worried that Grace would see through the wall of innuendo,
but Stephanie kept up the slow rhythm of slow-motion sex.  She stopped
suddenly, resting with me all the way inside her, and frowned.  "You do? 
Okay, just a second." She flipped the phone over and pointed it at me. 
"She wants to talk to you."

   I put the phone to my ear with trepidation, preparing myself for her
telling me she was on to me.  "Hello?"

   "Hello, Tim," she said sweetly.  "How are you?"

   "I'm fine.  How about yourself?"

   "Good, good.  You know, it's past the time for her tutoring sessions."

   "I know," I said.  "That's my fault; I need to fix my clock." For a
split second I was paranoid that I'd accidentally said "fix my cock". 
"We're almost finished."

   "I'm so glad you're willing to help her out," Grace said.  "I know it's
inconvenient."

   "It's not so bad," I said.  "She's doing most of the work." And she was.
Steph had resumed movement, slowly increasing her speed as she bounced up
and down, faster and faster.  I wanted to tell her to stop, or to keep it
slow, but I couldn't think of course to phrase it that wouldn't tip things
off.

   "Just don't keep her too late.  I don't like her walking the street or
taking the bus when it gets dark." I spared a glance towards my window.  It
wasn't dark, but it was starting in that direction.  "In fact," she said,
"would you be willing to give her a ride?"

   I grunted a bit as Steph landed her full weight on me once more, but
disguised it with a cough.  "Yeah.  I can give her a ride," I said.

   Stephanie smiled and mouthed the words, "you already are", while Grace
said, "Oh, thank you, you're so helpful.  And that way I can give you the
money I owe you." It had been a little over a week since she'd last given
me money for the tutoring sessions.

   I almost said that paying me wasn't necessary, but I thought that might
be a little too suspicious, so I just agreed.  Grace went on to apologize
for not having it earlier, telling a long story about how there was some
sort of screw-up with the payroll at her work.  I only pretended to listen,
because I realized, with growing panic, that Stephanie was moving faster,
even though it was starting to make a squeaking noise as she pushed into
the couch.  She was getting close to cumming, too close to worry about
discovery.  I could feel her pussy starting to squeeze me in short,
pleasurable bursts.  Her face was strained, and she was practically biting
her lip.  The climax would be soon.

   And when she climaxed, she was loud.

   Just then, Grace's voice stopped.  I had no idea what she had just said,
but I had a feeling she'd just finished her story.  Thinking quickly, I
took a quick glance at the phone, positioned my thumb, said, "Yeah, well, I
guess that happens..." and in the middle of the last word, pressed the END
button.  "Come on baby, let it go," I said, and thrust my hips up and down
quickly to meet her and try to get her to finish cumming before her Mom
could call back.

   She must have really been holding back, because as soon as I did, she
moaned, "Oh," quickly and repeatedly, and then yelled.  I started cumming
too, but I was much quieter.

   She sank onto my chest.  The phone rang again.  "We've really got to get
you a gag or something," I said, then pressed the button to answer the
phone.  Steph smiled and laid her head on my chest.  "Hi, Grace, sorry.  I
was trying to fix something on my chair, and I guess I accidentally hung up
on you," I lied.  "I was just trying to figure out how to call you back. 
We're just about done, so I'll have her home soon." I said my goodbyes,
then hung up again and breathed a sigh of relief.  That was too close.

   About a half hour later, we were both dressed and cleaned up, and I
showed up at Grace's house.  Stephanie said goodbye, politely, and then
went off to her room, while Grace paid me.  "I wanted to thank you about
being so nice about helping us out like this," she said.

   "You've already thanked me."

   "Yes, but something more.  On Thursday, I get off early, so you should
come over here for dinner.  Stephanie's been doing so well lately, she can
afford to miss one session."

   I'd rather have had the tutoring session, but somehow I found myself
agreeing anyway.

   **** Chapter Ten:

   Stephanie and I had our usual trysts, on Wednesday at lunch, and
Thursday before school, but Steph was expected to be home early to help
with dinner, so I didn't see her again until I showed up at her door.  She
was no longer in her school clothes, just a nice yellow blouse and skirt
over tights.

   The first thing I noticed was that there was an aroma in the air,
something delicious.  Stephanie led me inside, and I said hello to Grace,
who was cooking some king of stir fry.  It was a small home, just one
story, but relatively homey except for all the religious themed paintings
and bible verses framed on the walls.  I don't have anything against
religion, but I always felt it was a little creepy when people went all out
like that.  But it was clean and warm and the furniture looked nice.  In
the family room, Bonnie and her brother (who was technically her uncle)
were seated on the couch.  Jeff was playing a handheld video game and
Bonnie was either trying to watch or trying to take it from him.  I said
hello, and got a distracted "Hi" from Bonnie and a grunt from Jeff.

   "Do you want to see my room?" Stephanie asked as I tried to get a look
at what game Jeff was playing.

   "Sure," I said, trying to inject a note of bemused disinterest, as
though I was just going along with her out of politeness.  She took me down
the hall and opened the door.  It was a small room, smaller because there
were two beds, since she shared the room with her sister.  Pink was the
predominant color, and there was a big mirror over a shared dresser with
pictures of her friends on one side, and Bonnie's on the other.  The walls
were adorned with posters of Disney stars and music acts.  It was a kid's
room, like I should have expected.  I felt yet another pang of guilt for
what I'd been doing with her.  There were still even stuffed animals on her
bed.  Not many, compared to her sister's, but there was a stuffed monkey
and a stuffed cat resting beside her pillow.  I told her it looked nice. 
She closed the door and kissed me.  "We shouldn't do anything here," I
whispered.  "If we get caught..."

   "I know," she breathed.  "I just needed that."

   I got a quick tour of the rest of the house, then returned to the family
room and made small talk while waiting for dinner.  I didn't really want to
be there, I just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible, but I
also didn't want to offend Grace in any way.

   At dinner, Stephanie sat across from me, and I felt her foot graze mine
a few times.  I didn't want to encourage her...  the telephone conversation
with her mother was risky enough.  So, each time she did, I pulled my legs
back a little further.  Soon she was at the point where she'd have to dip
down in her seat noticeably to reach me, and I was trying really hard to
telepathically suggest that she not try it.

   Grace put some more food on my plate without asking.  "So, we're all
really pleased with what you've done for Stephanie.  Did she show you the
last math test?"

   "Yes," I said.  "I'm very proud, but I can't really take the credit."

   "Don't sell yourself short," Grace said.  "You've done miracles.  I
thank God that I found somebody like you, at just the right time.  Young
people today, they go down the wrong path for just a little bit, and
sometimes they get lost forever."

   "I'm just happy to help," I said, and took another mouthful of food.  It
was good food...  but I still had to pretend it was good enough that
talking wouldn't be appropriate.

   "I'm glad you said that," Grace said.  "Because there's another favor I
need to ask you."

   I looked up at her warily, swallowed, took a sip of juice to clear my
throat.  "What?"

   "I think Bonnie needs help with her studies, too.  I want you to do the
same thing for her that you've done for Stephanie."

   Bonnie looked sullen, Steph looked aghast.  I nearly choked on a bit of
food.  Finally, I gathered myself, and said, "I think you're giving me too
much credit.  I don't know if I'd necessarily be able to help Bonnie."
Whatever her problem was, I doubted it was the same as Stephanie's.

   "Nonsense," she said.  "Bonnie's 3 years younger, it must be even easier
to teach her than to teach Stephanie."

   "But it would take up a lot of time..."

   "Then we can cut Stephanie's tutoring sessions," Grace said.  "She's
doing well again."

   Stephanie did not like that, and looked up to me pleadingly.  It was the
only guaranteed time we had together.  So I lied.  "I don't know if that's
a good idea, she's doing well now, but if I stop helping her she might slip
back."

   "It's true, sometimes he explains things much better than my teacher
does," Steph said.  Bonnie, for her part, was silent and glum, much like
Stephanie was weeks ago when her mother asked if I could tutor her.

   "All the more reason for him to be helping your sister, too.  Don't you
want her to do well?" Grace looked back to me.  "You can find a way to
divide the time so both benefit, can't you?  Please?"

   "I guess if you really think it's a good idea," I found myself saying,
while mentally kicking myself for not being able to think of a good enough
objection.

   "I don't," Bonnie snapped.

   "I do.  Good then, it's settled." She smiled and then, after a look at
my nearly empty plate, told me, as though she hadn't already filled it a
few times, that if I was still hungry, I could always have seconds.

   After dinner I hung around for what I judged to be a polite time, and
then left.  On the drive home, I lamented the change in our circumstances,
although a perverse part of me had a laugh I couldn't indulge in before. 
She hoped I'd do the same thing for Bonnie that I'd done for Stephanie.  I
certainly had no intention of doing anything but tutoring, it was just
pretty funny.  I didn't actually suspect anything like that might happen.

   End of Book One

   The preceeding story was fantasy and I do not recommend or endorse any
of the acts described within.  Quite the opposite, really.

   This story is free to share and distribute so long as no money is
charged.

   If you liked this story, my complete collection is available at
/~AnonyMPC/ 

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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