Grace Ch. 06

The following week rolled around and I was scheduled to see Grace Tuesday and Thursday. She was still behind in her Law and Government class, and my plan was to help her get caught up as soon as possible. Hopefully, she would be done with missing work by the time the first $1500 ran out. My goal after that was continuing to work with her, but shifting gears to keep her current as she moved forward. I cringed a little bit internally when I thought about it, though. Grace was really weak academically, and despite her good looks, the memory of the wonderful blowjob she had given me, and the ongoing sexual relationship with her mother Lindsey, it was a struggle to teach her. Still, I admitted wryly to myself, it was totally worth it!

When I got to the house on Tuesday, no one answered the door. I knocked a couple of times, then rang the bell. Like any good employee, I checked my email quickly to see if there was a message explaining the problem. Nothing. Just as I was cursing quietly and getting ready to leave, I heard a revving engine and the crunch of gravel. A white Audi was whipping around the curves of the driveway leaving a cloud of dust in the cold air behind. As it got closer, I heard and felt the bass rumbling of a powerful stereo cranked all the way up. It HAD to be Grace! I stood in the entryway and watched as it slid to a stop inches from the middle door of the garage. The engine stopped and in the sudden silence, she popped out the far side and spotted me over the roof of the car.

"Hi Mr. Robertson!" she chirped. "Sorry I'm late...I had to meet with my math teacher."

With that, she ducked into the passenger seat to grab her backpack and phone, then trotted across the driveway toward me.

"That's okay," I said as I watched her lithe young body move.

She was going just fast enough to cause her supple C-cup breasts to bounce slightly beneath the inevitable hoodie she wore. When she stepped past me to punch in the door code, I caught a whiff of her floral shampoo and was transported back to the moment she sat on my lap and kissed me as a prelude to her "thank-you" blowjob the week before.

"You know," I said as we settled ourselves into our usual chairs for tutoring, "it might be a good idea if I gave you my phone number so you can let me know you're running late, or I can text you if I get stuck at school."

Grace reflexively grabbed her phone and turned toward me. Then she paused, raised her eyebrows, and smirked at me with a sparkle in her eyes.

"That was pretty smooth, Mr. R--I don't usually give out my number that quickly!"

"Grace," I said with a sigh, "I was just..."

"Oh, I get it!" she chirped smugly. "You were JUST thinking of texting me...late at night...".

"Grace," I said more sternly. "I know what you said about being an adult the other day, but I would NEVER..."

"Never what? Never text a student? Never let one sit on your lap and kiss you? Never..."

"Okay--I surrender!" I blurted before she listed all my sins.

She grinned smugly, knowing she had won that round. This was a side of her I'd never seen before--sharp and sassy and teasing and...smart?

"What's your number?" she asked in a more normal tone, still smiling at me.

I told her and she punched it in, thumbs flying. A second later, my phone dinged in my jacket pocket and I reached down to add her contact. When I tapped the notification, though, an image popped up. My eyes flicked up to Grace's and saw her eyebrows raised in anticipation. Then I looked back down and studied the picture. It was Grace, of course, but not the Grace I usually saw in school. She was standing in front of a crystal-blue ocean somewhere looking tanned and happy. Her hair was sun-streaked and tousled and she wore a pouty half-smile as she gazed right into the lens. Best of all, she was wearing a black bikini top that displayed her high, round breasts. Her shoulders....

"I guess you like it!" Grace said quietly, watching my face as I drank in her picture.

I snapped back to reality. "God, yes...it's beautiful. You're beautiful! I just can't..." I trailed off.

"I know," she said. "But you can save my number. Maybe someday after I graduate I can send you another one as a thank-you present!"

I added Grace as a contact, then reluctantly deleted the picture.

After that, we got down to work on the missing 4th Amendment questions. The image of Grace's body glowing in the sun haunted me now and then, and I was more than usually distracted by her nearness. I played my usual games by having her take things out of her backpack as she needed them and admiring the agile stretch of her body and the sweet curves of her ass. For the most part, however, I tried to keep my mind on business and education. Really, I tried.

Fifty minutes later, she had cobbled together answers for most of the questions. It was a little sad that she couldn't just read the textbook and find them--they were RIGHT there, after all, and many of them were in bold type. It took a lot of leading questions to get her to focus on the right idea and say it simply. I had very little hope for her future academic success, but I was determined to do what I could and help her move forward.

Somewhere deep in the house, a clock chimed four times. I rested my hand on her shoulder and told her she'd done a good job. She smiled shyly, grateful for the praise. After she had put her books away, she stood up and faced me.

"Thanks again for helping me," she said politely.

"I'm glad to do it, Grace. You're making good progress."

"I wouldn't be if you weren't here," she replied in a quiet voice. "This stuff is so hard for me."

"You'll get it. Mrs. Day is a good teacher."

"No," she interrupted. "YOU'RE a good teacher. So thank you!"

With that, she smiled happily, then stepped close and stood on tiptoe to give me a quick peck on the lips. Her breasts just barely grazed my chest while her hands rested lightly on my shoulders. She stayed close for a moment, giving me another whiff of her hair, and then whispered "thank you" again and settled back to where she had been.

It was nothing truly sexual, but that soft kiss was thrilling all the same. Considering what had happened between us, it was completely understandable that the boundaries were blurred a little, but the small part of me that was still trying to be professional had to intervene.

"Grace," I said seriously, "we talked about this. I want you to be appreciative, but you don't have to do anything...like you did before, or even like what you just did to say thank you."

"I know!" she said smugly in a quiet voice. "But sometimes I want to."

She picked up her phone and pushed her chair in, waiting for me to collect my portfolio and put on my jacket. My mind was whirling with the implications of that last sentence. Instead of bringing my thoughts out in the open, though, I gestured for her to precede me to the door. Even in my confused state, I still took the opportunity to admire the swiveling ass in front of me.

"So I'll see you on Thursday, right?" I mumbled as I stepped outside.

"Right. I'll try not to be late because I have a lacrosse meeting again."

"Okay...I'll see you then."

"Bye!"

She closed and locked the door as I turned to crunch across the gravel. The cold air bit into my lungs as I breathed deeply. How was this naive and somewhat dim young woman able to fluster me so much? Why did I ever let her go down on me? Why did she smell so damn good all the time? With these unprofitable thoughts buzzing in my head, I made my way home through the heavy rush-hour traffic.

As I was eating dinner that night, my phone dinged. Grumbling, I set aside my pasta and reached across the table for it. Oh, great, I thought to myself...it was Grace.

"Hey!" she wrote. "My mom wanted to talk to you so I gave her your number. Thanks again!"

"No problem," I responded.

I finished my meal and was packing the rest of the pasta for lunch on Wednesday when I heard another text notification. This time it was Lindsey.

"Hey teacher man! Why are you texting my daughter? Don't you think that's a little inappropriate?"

The truthful sting of her words was mitigated by the laughing emoji she added at the end.

Before I could formulate a response, the phone buzzed again and another text came in.

"Grace said you deleted her picture and you got all embarrassed...".

Another buzz. This one contained no words--just a selfie of Lindsey. She was lying on her back, her dark hair framing her face on a pillow. One hand was holding the phone--obviously--and the other was cupping her naked breast, almost like she was offering it up to me. I could see her smooth tan skin all the way down to her navel and I smiled as I remembered traveling that distance with my lips and tongue on that very bed.

"Don't delete this one...it will help you sleep tonight!"

Finally, I collected myself to respond.

"I'm pretty sure it will have the opposite effect!" I shot back.

"Lol--then this one is gonna make it worse!" came her response.

The camera was reversed now. The covers were pushed all the way down and Lindsey's lower body was visible in the dim light of her bedroom. One knee was bent up and her free hand was resting on her other thigh, her fingertips curled around out of sight, clearly brushing her pussy. Her smooth mound gleamed invitingly and my heart pounded at the memory of her taste.

"You're right," I typed quickly. "That one's making me wish I was there in person!"

"Same here" was her terse reply.

Before I could think of something to say, my phone buzzed again. This time, though, it was an actual call.

"Hello?" I asked suspiciously.

"Is this the pervert who keeps texting my daughter?"

"Yes, it is," I told her smugly. "Is that something we should talk about?"

"Yes, it is," she echoed. "I have several questions for you, and I want honest answers, mister!"

"Am I being recorded?" I asked, my lips twitching.

"Absolutely not. I think I'd be in a LOT more trouble than you if it was!" she laughed.

"That's possible. What can I help you with, madam?"

"Well, sir, I was wondering if you've made any progress with my daughter."

"She's working very well and getting caught up," I said with a grin.

"Asshole. I mean have you guys done anything more? She said she kissed you and sent you a bikini picture...is that it?"

"Do you guys talk about every damn thing?" I sputtered.

"Well, this is all kind of new, but when it comes to you and her, it's all out in the open."

"Does she know about us?" I asked, wondering for the first time if our secret was out.

"Absolutely. I think she's a little jealous. That's probably why she's ramping it up!"

"Lindsey," I said hesitantly, "I know what you said to her about expressing her gratitude properly, but I'm actually trying to...you know, keep it professional until she gets her work done."

"So are you still checking out her ass when she bends over?"

"Hey--I said I was trying!"

She laughed. "I don't think I have to say this, but don't reject her, okay? You guys are working really well, and I know you're not taking advantage of her or making her blow you every day, but she IS hot for you, and it might break her little heart if she came on to you and you said no."

"Lindsey...this is getting complicated."

"Tell me about it! I'm the bad mom who's fucking her daughter's tutor every chance I get and telling my kid how awesome he is in the sack and telling her it's okay if she wants to go for it. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm horny all the time, and instead of being jealous about the idea of you and Grace...hooking up, I'm horny about THAT as well!"

"I think you're just a horny person," I said with a chuckle, repeating back to her what she had said to me the week before.

"Well, my fingers are in my pussy right now and I'm so fucking wet I can't stand it!"

"Sorry I'm not there to ease your troubles," I said consolingly.

"Just don't make any plans for Thursday evening, okay?"

"I believe I can fit you into my busy schedule that day, ma'am."

"You better!" she retorted.

"Sweet dreams, Linds," I said more gently.

"See you Thursday...asshole," was her only response before hanging up.

I had trouble falling asleep that night.

Wednesday was a blur of classes with a faculty meeting at the end of the day for good measure. Because of my short night, and because of the fog in my brain, I went through it all in a sort of daze. I think everyone excused it as mid-winter burnout, which was good. If anyone suspected the truth, I'd be looking for work in a different industry!

On Thursday morning, I passed Grace in the hall. Our schedules didn't usually mesh, so I was startled to see her. I was also feeling a touch guilty, so I'm sure I was extra flustered. We were too far apart to say anything casual, and she was walking with friends. All three were cute, and all three were on their phones, so I simply glanced her way and smiled politely. Grace caught my eye as we walked by each other and smiled back--a secret and oddly satisfied smile. I'm sure my face registered my internal confusion because just as she passed beyond my line of sight I saw her smile broaden just a bit. Then she was gone. As much as I wanted to make a u-turn and check out her ass--okay, all three of their asses--I knew that would be suspicious and stalker-ish behavior, so I nobly refrained.

Three o'clock found me knocking on their door once again. Lindsey opened it and stood blocking the entrance, peeking coyly from behind the dark wood.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Yes. I'm here to see your daughter."

"Aren't you a little old for a high-school girl, mister?"

"Maybe I could talk to YOU instead!" I offered, raising my eyebrows.

"Maybe you should get your work done and THEN talk to me!" she countered.

"I like that plan, lady. Now send me your daughter so I can get warmed up for you!"

"Pervert. I'll go get her."

She twirled around and vanished into the depths of the house, leaving me to find my own way to the kitchen table. I heard quick footsteps going up the stairs, then a door closing. I grabbed a bottle of water from their refrigerator as I passed through, then settled down in my chair. When I heard footsteps on the stairs again, I turned to see who was coming.

Grace came down the stairs slowly, smiling a little and watching my reaction. She was stunning! Snug black pants tucked into dark leather boots, a silky-looking poncho sweater that swirled around her, and just the lacy edge of a camisole top peeking out of the neckline. Her hair was swept up into a startlingly elegant and adult chignon that revealed the slender curve of her neck and emphasized the delicate line of her jaw. She was wearing more makeup than usual, but applied discreetly so that she looked glamorous rather than gaudy. All-in-all, she looked beautiful.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused with her hand on the newel post.

"How do I look?" she asked with a smile that was both knowing and vulnerable.

"Beautiful," I answered simply, standing up unconsciously. "What's the occasion?"

She smiled happily at my response and walked over to the table.

"You mean I can't just look this good for you?" she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Grace..." I stammered.

"Joke. It's Katie's birthday, so we're going out to Bracuzzi's after the meeting for dinner."

"Well, you look great!" I assured her.

"Thank you, Mr. Robertson. I wasn't sure if it was too much."

"I'd say you got it just right!" I told her, sitting back down. "Are you going to be able to do some work, or is your brain already in going-out mode?"

She sat gracefully on the edge of her chair and crossed her ankles. Her scent washed over me as she opened up her laptop and took her book out of the backpack beside her. She didn't lunge over and give me a good view of her ass this time, probably out of deference to the elegance of her clothes and the poise they lent her. She did twist enough that her poncho fell forward, though, and I craned my neck a little to admire the shadowed valley of her cleavage that came into sight. I think I covered myself by leaning forward as if to turn her laptop a little, but she smiled at me again as she sat up again.

"Are YOU going to be okay to work, Mr. Robertson?" she asked merrily.

"Absolutely," I nodded. "I'm immune to beautiful high school girls."

"Oh, really?" she grinned. "Even when they're sitting this close to you all dressed up?"

"Uh-huh," I mumbled.

"Even when they're not wearing a bra or panties?" she added in a sweet voice.

"Umm..." was all I could manage.

That image raced through my brain at feverish speed. Oh, my god!

"I guess that you're not 100% immune, Mr. Robertson, but that's okay. I'll be good."

I nodded ruefully and smiled at her.

"I'd appreciate it," I said honestly. "You're plenty distracting as usual, but we have work to do and I don't want you to miss out because I'm having trouble focusing!"

She giggled in response, which was a much more normal reaction from her than this staggering sophistication. For all that she was a marginal student, I reflected, there was nothing wrong with her confidence or her feminine intelligence! My train of thought, however, was quickly derailed when she put her hand on my thigh and squeezed gently.

"That's actually really sweet!" she admitted. "I can see why my mom thinks you're such a nice guy."

"Right. Your mom," I began as I searched for the right words. "I guess you know that we're...".

"Having sex? Yup."

"And you're okay with that?"

"You're making her really happy. She kinda told me about it over the weekend when I asked her what was up."

"What about your dad?" I asked after a moment's hesitation.

"He doesn't make her happy anymore, and he's barely here. Mom says all women deserve to be happy and feel beautiful, and it's up to us to find that for ourselves sometimes."

"Your mom is a sensible woman," I said with gratitude in my heart.

It didn't escape me that she included herself in the ranks of women seeking appreciation and satisfaction, but I didn't want to bring it up right then and she seemed content to let it go. Instead, she squeezed my thigh once more and sat back in her chair.

"I hope you guys have fun after I leave," she teased.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem. Now where were we?"

We spent the next 45 minutes going over the Miranda case and the Fifth Amendment. Grace typed away dutifully once we had discussed the questions, and I did my best to lead her to answers that she articulated herself. She only got through five, which was half the assignment, but half was better than none, I reflected. I had been doing my best to stay on task and guide her well, but every now and then I got lost looking at her neck or the sweet way she pursed her lips when she was typing. When my conversation lagged, she smiled to herself but graciously refrained from turning to look at me or quiz me about where my attention had gone.

Finally, it was ten minutes to four and Grace had to leave. Lindsey was nowhere in sight, so I packed up as Grace was putting her books away. Just as I reached for my jacket, my phone buzzed on the table. Grace glanced at it and smiled.

"That's my mom's number!" she giggled.

"Have a great time at dinner!" I said to keep her from further speculation. "You look amazing."

To my delight and consternation, Grace stepped right up to me again and put her hands on my shoulders just the way she did on Tuesday. This time, though, she was a little bit closer. Her breasts nudged my chest as she kissed me on the cheek, but her foot was in between mine and her hip turned inward just enough to nudge against my cock. She stayed there for a moment and whispered in my ear.