A Tutor for Samuel

"Sorry," said Sam sheepishly, "I'm just nervous. I don't want to let you down."

"You could never let me down, Sam. You've been working hard, and that is all I ask."

The way his face lit up when she praised him made her feel warm inside, and she smiled.

"Now...five more minutes and I'll have this done."

Sam tried to sit patiently while Linda worked picking up a book of photographs taken by the Hubble space telescope to occupy his mind. After what seemed like an eternity, Linda finally removed her glasses and sat them on the table.

"Well?" he said anxiously when she didn't say anything.

"Ninety-five. You missed one, but it was a math error in computing the mass of a type B star, and that can happen to anyone. Congratulations."

"Holy shit!" said Sam jumping up off the couch and taking a careful victory lap around the coffee table.

"Mind the books!" cried Linda with fake anger as he brushed a stack near the couch that almost fell over.

"Ninety-five! Ha! Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Professor Grant!" gushed Sam referring to his Astronomy teacher at Hampton.

"This isn't the real thing, but if you do half as well on your final, you'll be fine."

"We need to celebrate! Come on, Linda, let's go someplace nice and get some food! How about Antonio's?"

"Antonio's? That's one of the nicest restaurants in this one-horse town. We couldn't..."

"Come on. I've been saving my money from part-time work at my grandfather's carpentry shop. I can afford to splurge."

"I don't know, Sam..."

"Please? I've just knocked the ball out of the park, thanks to you. Don't bring me down now."

Linda melted in the face of Sam's unbridled enthusiasm.

"Antonio's is pretty upscale, though. I need to go home and change," said Sam. He paused and looked back at Linda in her shorts and t-shirt.

She looked down, noticing what he was looking at.

"Don't worry. I think I have an outfit that would be okay, and, no, it isn't nicer sweatpants."

"I wasn't worried," said Sam with a smirk.

As soon as he had gone, Linda drew a breath and went into her bedroom, opening the closet door. Hanging on the back was the dress she had bought at the mall, lacy, and to her eyes very small.

"I can't believe I'm doing this..." said Linda, her voice shaking slightly as she took it down and laid it on the bed.

From there, she went over to her vanity and opened the center drawer looking down at the untouched makeup bag that sat in the center. Her mother had sent it to her for Christmas in the hopes that her youngest daughter would finally come out of her funk.

"I just hope I remember how," she whispered to herself as she lifted it out.

Sam knocked again, wondering if Linda had fallen asleep or something.

"It's not that late," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.

It had taken him longer to get ready than he had figured on, but he stood now on Linda's doorstep looking smart in a sport coat and pressed slacks, his black leather shoes gleaming.

He started to knock again when the door opened.

"I was starting to think you were going to stand me...up," began Sam, but his voice petered out.

"I hope this outfit will do," said Linda in a nervous voice.

Sam wanted to answer, but his brain had locked like a seized engine. He struggled to find the words to compliment her, but it was damn hard to compliment the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

It was like a caterpillar emerging from a cocoon. The transformation was striking. Gone was the frumpy, tired-looking woman who had prowled the yard behind his, and in her place was a gorgeous stranger.

Linda had pulled her hair back with gold braid to bring emphasis to her face, which was no longer washed out but glowed with soft, rosy color. Her eyelids were darkened with shadow that accentuated her sea-green eyes, and her lips were painted with a dark-berry color that contrasted beautifully with her light-brown hair. The dress she wore clung to her like a second skin dropping low to show off her deep cleavage and cut short to reveal her slender, muscular legs. She was wearing heels that brought her up closer to Sam's height and made her trim calves look even more shapely.

"I...you look...Jesus..."

Linda's face clouded as she looked down, thinking Sam didn't approve.

"Is something wrong?"

"No...God, No!...It's just...Linda...You're...You're beautiful."

Linda felt her whole body light up at the look on Sam's face, and she blushed so hard she was afraid the color would never fade.

Thank you," was all she could manage.

They stood just staring at one another for at least ten more seconds before Linda laughed and pointed out that Antonio's didn't deliver.

"Right you are! We should go," said Sam finding his full voice at last.

The restaurant was reasonably busy for a Thursday night, but after a short wait, they were led to a table for two. Sam studied his menu while stealing surreptitious glances over the top at his date. He still couldn't get over how different Linda looked. She had even accessorized her outfit perfectly with emerald earrings close to her eye color and a thin gold chain around her neck.

"I hear the fettuccine Alfredo is good here," he said after clearing his throat.

"I'm more of a good lasagna girl, but I might try that."

"Have you eaten here before?"

"First time. It's nice. I love the rustic Italian touches it's like being transported to another country."

"This was my parent's favorite restaurant when my mom was still alive."

Linda sat her menu aside and looked with sympathy at her young companion, "Nancy was a lovely lady. She was nice to me when I first arrived here, and I needed a friend."

"I'm glad she was there for you," he said with a wistful hint of sadness in his voice.

"You miss her?"

He hesitated, turning a fork over in his hand and watching the light reflect off the metal.

"It gets a little easier as time passes. I guess that's the way of things, right? What you're always told, that time heals all wounds."

"Heals, maybe, but the scars are always there. The pain fades, but we are sometimes reminded of it by our memories, and it can flare back again suddenly."

"Like with you and your husband?"

Linda nodded, taking her turn to fidget with the silverware.

"Hey! This is supposed to be a celebration! Let's not wallow in the past," said Sam forcing a smile back on his face.

He noticed that the house band had started playing, and a few couples were dancing nearby.

Sam stood up and offered Linda his hand.

"Would you care to dance?"

She looked startled for a second then ducked her head, "I don't know. I'm very out of practice."

"I had to take dance lessons when I was in high school. My mother insisted. Don't worry. I can lead."

Reluctantly, Linda rose to her feet and took Sam's hand, letting him take her toward the dance floor. There, he slipped his arms around her waist, reminding her of that moment by the telescope at the dark site. She shuddered at little, a tingle shooting up her spine as he pulled her closer to him.

Sam smiled down at his pretty neighbor, catching that smell of wildflowers from her hair that he decided must be her shampoo.

It turned out he was not over-selling himself, Sam was an exceptional dancer, and he led Linda confidently around the floor.

"You are terrific. I'm going to be embarrassed when I step on your toes."

"I doubt you could hurt me."

He went to twirl her around, and she felt a giggle slip from her lips, blood rushing to her head. It had been years since the last time a man had made her feel this good. When Sam drew her back to his chest, her arms went instinctively around his neck, and she found herself staring into his rugged, handsome face.

"That girl you were with at the mall. Was she your girlfriend?"

"Jennifer? Not really...just a friend."

"I caught some hesitation there. I take it you're interested in her?"

"I was, but I'm discovering I like my girls to be smart as well as beautiful. Jennifer is all flash and no substance."

"That can be a tough combination to find."

"I don't know about that, could be I know someone already that fits that description."

Linda sensed another blush coming on, and she diverted her eyes from Sam's face.

A girl from your college?"

"No, someone closer to home."

He dipped her before she could comment on that pulling her so swiftly back to him that it took her breath away. Their faces were close again, as close as they had been that night by the telescope. Linda's heart raced in her chest, and she could feel Sam's pounding right along with it.

Sam started to move, but at the last second, Linda looked down.

"We should go order, don't you think?"

"Sure..." he replied, his voice laced with disappointment.

The food proved to be as excellent as the atmosphere, and they both enjoyed the meal immensely.

"So, your Dad wants you to go to Whitmore?"

"That's the plan. His plan, I should say."

"Whitmore is a fine school. I went there, you know."

"My dad mentioned that to me. I'm sure it's great. I just hate to feel like I'm being strong-armed into following someone else's dream."

"I can understand that we all have to find our path in life, discover what suits us best."

"I wish my dad was as understanding. I don't think he trusts me to make my own decisions sometimes."

"He should. I've seen enough in our short time together to know you've got a good head on your shoulders and an even bigger heart."

"If you're trying to make me blush, you're doing a good job."

"I'm just returning the favor," said Linda without thinking.

Sam eyed her over the top of his water glass, "Have a done something tonight that made you blush?"

Linda's eyes dropped back to the table, kicking herself for blurting out those words.

"Linda?"

"Yes..." she said in a quiet voice.

"What did I do?"

She forced her head to move back up to bring her eyes to meet Sam's. His danced with mischievous intent. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"You looked at me like you are now."

"I can't help how I look at you."

"It's not appropriate for a student to look at their teacher that way."

"Then it's a good thing we aren't in school."

Their waiter showed up, breaking the tension and bringing them their check, which Sam promptly paid.

On the ride home, Linda felt a growing nervousness and wished that she had driven instead of Sam. It would have been easy to drop him off and make a hasty get-away, but that option wasn't available now.

They pulled up in front of her house, and Sam cut the engine.

"You don't have to walk me up. I know the way," she said, trying to keep a casual tone in her voice.

"Are you kidding? This is a full-service date, Lady. I would be remiss if I didn't do the gentlemanly thing and walk you to your door."

He didn't let her get in another word but came around to open the car door for her. They walked up together with a slipper moon hanging over their heads.

"I had a nice time, Sam. Thanks for inviting me."

She was trying to keep it simple, perfunctory, hoping to get in the door without any undue fuss. The look in Sam's eyes stopped her cold.

It was a look she hadn't seen in years, at least not directed at her. A glimpse of hungry desperation that sent her pulse racing. The kind of look she had been patently avoiding, hiding from, thinking she didn't want, didn't need.

She had been wrong.

He put his hand out and touched her face.

His palm was so warm.

She started to tremble.

"Please don't do this..."

"Why?"

"Because, Sam, it's not a good idea. I'm too old for you."

"Is that the real reason?"

Linda looked up into those dark eyes that blazed with passion.

"No...It's because I don't have the strength to stop you."

"Don't be afraid."

"Oh...Sam..."

Sam lowered his head, this time Linda didn't duck away, no stars fell from the sky, and the only fire was between the two of them.

She closed her eyes, felt him tilting her head with his hand, and a second later, for the first time since she had walked away from her marital bed, a man was kissing her.

There was a moment of awkward unfamiliarity that quickly dissolved away as their lips melded together.

Sam sighed in his throat as Linda's creamy, dark lips pressed tight to his own. He drank in the sensation of their flesh touching, the incredible velvety softness and moist heat that enveloped him.

Linda felt her arms moving up across Sam's muscular chest as if they had made the decision for her and were too anxious to wait. She pivoted her head to one side, rubbing her slick lips on Sam's firm mouth, feeling the strength in him, the need for her that both scared and excited her at the same time.

The kiss deepened, slow, gentle rubbing giving way to more insistent movements.

His arms slipped around her, pulled tight, bringing her body up against his. Linda groaned quietly in the back of her throat, a sudden, hot wave of desire sweeping through her and leaving her shaking even harder. She parted her lips, and Sam was there in an instant, his tongue slipping into her mouth, teasing, swirling around, seeking.

Linda joined her tongue to his, tips brushing together, making tingles break out down her spine. They were both breathing harder through their noses, gasps for air as the heat grew between them. Sam ran his hands across her back, fingertips breezing softly over the bare skin that her dress didn't cover. She longed to feel those fingers touching her all over.

Their kissing became more frantic, more needful, mouths sliding wetly together, tongues flicking and chasing back and forth.

They parted abruptly like they were two prizefighters, and a referee had forced them apart.

They stared at one another, panting, skin flushed with excitement.

"Can we go inside?" asked Sam in a thick voice.

Linda fumbled with her key dropping her purse in the process. It took her four tries to get it in the lock, and it was only after the door had slammed shut that she realized her purse was still on the porch.

She couldn't have cared less.

Sam yanked her back into his arms, and they were kissing again. His mouth was everywhere now, not just on her lips but kissing her neck, her shoulders, the bare skin above her cleavage. Her body was lighting up, skin burning, dying to be touched. His lips were back on hers, and she kissed him openly, not able to hold back the flood of desire that suffused her being. They stumbled backward, knocking over a stack of books that contained her autographed copies of "Burnham's Celestial Handbook, volumes 1-3," a calamity that in the past would have given her fits of anxiety. Tonight, it didn't even register.

He pressed her to the wall, covering her mouth in the most ardent French kisses yet. They were both moaning now, giving voice to the lust that was fast overwhelming their inhibitions. Linda felt his hands moving up her back again toward the catch that held her dress closed. He slipped it with admirable skill, the zipper just beneath it began to descend.

"Jesus...Sam..." she whispered.

It had been a good long time since a man had seen her this way. Even longer since she had wanted that to happen, her body was still shaking, partly arousal, but partly fear that Sam would be disappointed with what he found waiting for him. She was no Jennifer Masterson, no hard-bodied college girl.

The zipper reached her lower back, stopped.

Sam started to pull the fabric away from her, slowly, letting it slide off her shoulders and down toward the ground. The dress had padded cups, didn't require its owner to wear a bra. She could feel Sam's eyes on her as the cloth moved past her middle, her naked upper body exposed to him for the first time. At first, she couldn't meet his gaze, too afraid of what she would find there, but taking a breath, she finally raised her head.

Sam was smiling in the semi-darkness, no sign of anything on his handsome features but longing.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he whispered to her.

Linda wanted to cry, but he banished such thoughts from her head when he took her bare breasts in his hands.

She closed her eyes again and groaned, "It's been so long..."

They might not have won any wet t-shirt contests on a Florida beach, but they were gorgeous in their own right. Her soft, milky white, breasts were large enough to more than fill Sam's palms, with flesh spilling over the sides, still quite firm for a woman in her late thirties. They sat well up on her chest, dark pink areolas covered in love bumps with perfectly round, dime-sized nipples. He squeezed them, lifted them enjoying their weight, the heft of them. Linda grabbed at the wall when he put his mouth on one, running his tongue in a tight circle around her erect nipple. She groaned audibly in the back of her throat when he sucked that same nipple roughly into his mouth. His teeth pulled at the puffy flesh, nibbled on that tight cherry love knot.

"Oh...My...God..." gasped Linda.

She had utterly forgotten, or perhaps suppressed that she had ever known, how good it could feel to have a man touch her this way. Sam may have been young, but he had the hands of an experienced lover, and a mouth to match. He proved that in every way, as he toyed with Linda's chest and made her knees shake, her vagina fill with juicy nectar. Her soft cries gained volume with each hot lick, each firm love bite, and she writhed against the cool wall behind her while he worked her into a frenzy.

Sam held her breasts together, nuzzled the spit covered skin, licked her fully erect nipples moving back and forth between them.

Linda couldn't take it anymore.

Her dress had stopped at her hips, and she shoved it the rest of the way off onto the floor, leaving herself in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties. She grabbed at Sam's head, burying her tongue in his mouth and Frenching him almost angrily before taking his hand and pulling him toward her bedroom. As soon as they entered, she was pushing his sport jacket off over his shoulders, ripping the buttons from his shirt in a single hard motion, and lifting off his t-shirt to feast her eyes on his hairy young chest.

If she thought she had been wet before, it was nothing compared to the flood that erupted between her legs at the sight of all that rippling muscle.

Sam could only stand in awestruck wonder at this new Linda Siler, a driven, sex-starved beast that showered kisses on his chest and licked her way across his stomach, making him shudder when she teased his belly button with her tongue. Her fingers worked with a singular purpose, unbuckling and removing his slacks, leaving her facing his gray silk boxers. The bulge on the front told all the story she needed to know.

Linda stopped, hesitated for a second. She wanted this that was certain, but it had been a very long time since she had tried to please a man this way.

What if she had forgotten how?

What if she had never been good?

Doubt clawed at her, but it wasn't enough against the wave of crushing arousal that poured through her body. She rolled down his underwear, and all that was Sam Morrison dropped in front of her face. His cock was as impressive as his chest, bigger than Greg's by a wide margin, an ivory, vein covered tower that swayed inches from her lips.

Every thought left her head but one.

"God, I want to suck your cock..." she moaned.

Sam barely fought down a scream that might have alerted the neighborhood. He gritted his teeth, breath coming out in a low hiss as Linda took him fully. The room filled with the wet sounds of his cock sloshing in her mouth, and he looked down at her, hardly able to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. There was Linda Siler, his neighbor, the frumpy lady from down the street, now a gorgeous, brown-haired siren who was pumping his dick with one hand while pushing her sweet pink lips up and down every inch. The iron-hard flesh dripped with her saliva, and his balls cried with the need for release. She was taking him deeper with each thrust, gagging slightly, squeezing the head of his cock in the back of her throat.