Nordberry Nosh

She also wanted assurances we wouldn't be walked in upon, but at the same time, she wanted to know that if she shouted, someone else would be in the house (mutually exclusive ideas?). I pointed out that my mom was upstairs in the TV room and we could hear the TV, so shouting would bring her right down. We could duck into the storage room off the kitchen if anyone came, lock it, and get dressed fast.

That settled it. I went over and turned on a space heater for the kitchen (it was cool in there normally), and pulled off my sweatshirt, then shucked my shoes.

She stood, and pulled off her sweatshirt, and took off her shoes.

I didn't ask why she wanted her shoes off, but she might just have been nervous.

I pulled off my t-shirt, exposing my naked torso, but still had my jeans on.

She paused a moment to look at me. I saw her eyes go down my chest.

It occurred to me that I had some newly-minted definition in my muscles that may have been more attractive than I figured, when evaluating myself. I'd mostly thought about muscles as useful for running, not so much as being pretty for girls.

(Of course, that said, I'd had fun flexing in front of a mirror and hoping I'd not look ugly if and when a girl was around me).

I certainly didn't have a tan. Something about living in medium-northern Canada translates to not going to a beach that often. We had Bell Park, but it wasn't fancy.

After a moment, she started lifting her t-shirt, watching me carefully as she did with thin-set lips. As it came over her head, I saw she had a substantial jog-bra over medium-large boobs. The bra didn't allow for cleavage, and was of a thick fabric.

It was a good thing I hadn't agreed to a bra limit, I wouldn't have seen jack.

Bear in mind that the kitchen wasn't big. She was at least 3 steps away on the other side of the table so even if she'd taken off her pants, I wouldn't have seen anything there, either.

I undid my belt and took off my pants, facing sideways, and folded them onto the countertop over my t-shirt and sweatshirt. I didn't know why I was being so neat, it just seemed like it would help her feel at ease that I wasn't a slob.

My cock was regarding this as a half-interest sort of thing, so I could look down and see I was making a half-pole in my jockey shorts ('tighty whities').

The fact that I had this showing was complicating her decision, I think. After her shirt had come off, she'd let her eyes wander down more, to focus on southern parts of me.

Confronting this, I said, "Listen, you know as well as I do, guys can't control getting boners. So, don't take this as meaning anything. My hindbrain likes what my eyes are seeing, even if I can't control it. So... ignore that, I am."

"You're not getting that anywhere near me."

I scoffed and countered with, "Duh, I'm staying on my side, you keep to your side."

"Well, make sure it stays that way!"

I nodded, calmly, and leaned back to show I was relaxed, and put her at ease, too.

We stood there.

She asked, "Is this on the clock?"

I laughed, "clock starts when we start working on calc, not before. You get full benefit." She was regarding me, and trying to decide who was going to go first. I said, "We go at the same time?"

We did.

As she lifted her bra up over her boobs, I lowered my underwear, careful to not catch my pointy-dick, and dropped them to the ground.

We stood there. Her eyes were on my eyes, and mine looked back. I gave a tired-sounding relaxed sigh, and put a look of 'Okay, now this is done, let's get on with it'.

I watched her eyes go down me. I was interested in what she was looking at. I figured I could look at her boobs later, I wanted to see (while I was standing) what she would focus on.

Her glance went down and up, fast, then to my arms, leaning back on the counter, then to my face again, then down my chest and in on my package, inhaling and flaring her eyes unconsciously as she did.

I decided to volunteer, "To be very clear with you - I do NOT want to date you. I'm not sure I trust you yet, based on my sister's opinions. Also, I got burned dating Gail Ferding, she... stepped on my heart a little. So I'm going slow now. I guess, don't get any ideas this means anything, more than beautiful-body eye candy for me, and... I expect you're getting some of the same benefit, too."

She nodded, wary of this whole situation, but willing to see it through, I could tell. I asked, "Shall we sit down? Start the clock?" I liked using the word 'shall', it seemed more high-class.

Her eye-based assent to this let me move slowly forward, grabbing the tea-towel hanging on the oven to put over my chair.

She was amused by this.

I just said, "I showered after my workout, but I wouldn't want to sit on a seat someone's sat on naked, probably, so... better this way." Ignoring the rest of the idea, we sat down and started the clock, so to speak, working for another full hour.

We made excellent progress.

In between talking with her, I openly stared at her breasts, not as a leering sus guy, but in frank appreciation of the beauty there. She had C-cups, small crinkled areolas but rather large nipples, at least compared to porn vids I'd seen, upturned placement for a maybe optimistic vibe, and enough firmness to not shake around much when she moved.

Crossing her arms once or twice, she pressed in on them and I was happy to see that, and she laughed at my open stares.

I realized I was distracting her from the math by staring, so I tried to cut that down, despite my wanting to just stare and stare.

After about 45 minutes, she invited me to come around and sit on her side of the table so we could see the writing better. I knew then there was an ulterior motive to look down in my lap, while since i was side-on to her, me not being able to stare quite so openly at her breasts.

Since I wanted to keep it fair I let that happen, and figured maybe she might be getting turned on, too. I couldn't count on that, but figured it'd be a great thing if it did.

Probably.

While she'd be working problems, I wondered what it'd be like to date her. She was so stuck-up and self-centered at school, but with me she was more grounded and genuine. One of those had to be the act - school or my house - but given the examples of callous disregard I'd seen/heard about, she had to at least partially believe in her own innate pretty=better-than-you ideas.

As the end of an hour rolled up, I went around to the other side of the table and said we were done. I'd given her some significant homework, she had to go back to her trig textbook and work through a bunch of problems until she got fast at them.

I'd emphasized how important that stuff was, really strongly. Basically, I'd said, "Do ALL the problems, not just the evens or odds, _all_ of them. Do 'em until you're not just right, do 'em until you're both fast and never-wrong. Fast and dead-certain, that's the thing. Math gets really easy after that. You skipped work before, you're in a deficit. If you pay it up to current, you won't be struggling at all."

She nodded, but I think she was conflicted. I could tell she was excited by the fresh understanding, but mentally tired from the effort and the worry about being naked around me.

I stood up, went around the table, and wrote on a piece of paper, "All fees for tutoring as of this date paid in full," then signed and dated it.

She was confused.

I said, "It's a thing the plumbers did working on our basement, they explained it. It means, 'I agree I can't sue you later for nonpayment. It's a guarantee. Called a 'lien waiver.'"

She took it and put it in her backpack, then we dressed again. I watched her as I did so, and she paused to watch me carefully. I hoped she was admiring my muscles, but maybe not. It was hard to tell with her.

Of course I watched her pull on her jog-bra, adjust the fit of her boobs in it, and then her shirt and sweatshirt.

For my part, in the hour of me working with her, my erection had subsided some, though it wasn't totally gone. I still had more substance than I was used to.

I pulled on my sweatshirt and sweatpants fast since I could just go downstairs again, just as she finished getting arranged and packed up.

We went upstairs. It was about 8:30, but I was plenty tired.

At the coat rack, she leaned in and whispered to me, "No one, and I mean NO one, knows this just happened."

I considered that and said, "I ... might tell my mother. Not sure yet. She keeps secrets pretty well. I... just don't want her interrupting us next time. I know she'll respect that if I ask. My sisters had their boyfriends over, and she respected that, so... probably a good idea."

This surprised her, I was pretty sure. She said, "Well... Nobody else, then."

Calmly, I replied back with, "Same rules apply to you, you know. But, you can tell your friends that I do tutoring now. Even aside from the, uh..." I nodded appreciatively in a reference to her, "genuinely deeply beautiful elements of the situation, I had fun with it. You're a good student, just need some catch up, hints, direction-finding, that kind of stuff."

Her face flashed a bunch of conflicted emotions. I think she was feeling lots of things - sexually harassed even though she'd come to me; sexually turned on by me, maybe; nervous for the fallout from this; complimented to her base-level by my appreciations of her beauty and talents separately... lots of things. I totally got it.

We said our goodbyes as she got her coat and gear on, and I shut the door behind her.

Life had been interesting, for Damned Sure. I had to laugh at the oddity of it all. Madison. Naked (on top). In my basement. For an hour. Wow.

Going back downstairs, mental images of what had just happened flowed through my head. I was tired, so I just shut down the lights, closed my door, and got in bed.

My pondering this turned into a stroke-session and again, I had to come twice before I really felt satisfied. It was a pattern ever since I'd been sick, I had to stroke off to go to sleep, otherwise I'd toss for a while and just get frustrated and have to get up and solve it.

Lying there, I wondered if Madison had to handle things herself, or if she was too stuck up to touch herself. The real question was, could I get her to tell me? Did I want to? She wasn't a personality I generally was interested in, but I did wonder about how 'beautiful people' lived. My sisters gave perspective on what living with girls was like, mostly, but Madison was a different animal when it came to that.

== Chapter: The Day After Tutoring Mads ==

The next day at lunch, Madison and I caught sight of each other but didn't acknowledge anything.

In class, she looked at me as she walked in but didn't say anything, so I didn't either. The rest of class, I'd glance over sometimes and she'd glance back quickly, like she was on high-alert for anything to do with me.

This was fine in my book. She and her friends had been so mean to so many people, a little tension for her was entirely fitting.

As for class itself, and most of my classes, I'd mostly been ignoring my teachers. I could listen to them and work, either working problems all class period in my spiral notebook. Sometimes they'd be math or econ, whatever, I'd glance at the problem and either write it down in my spiral notebook while the teacher droned, or just do it in my head (where I could, and I couldn't always. No superman suit here).

That night was our Friday-night D-and-D quest with my lunch friends, one we'd been working on for a while. With lots of time to talk, someone asked me about how that Madison thing went.

I had expected the question to come up, and had to come up with something which would explain it if she came by our table again.

I rolled my eyes and said, "She wanted some hints on the calculus homework, and I'm game for that, but I wasn't going to do her homework for her. So, I set it up as tutoring, and she said okay, so she came over to my house and I sold her an hour of tutoring - $40 bucks."

There were whistles about the amount, but I said, "My sisters paid that much, they said, so I figured it was fair. Plus, Madison's dad can afford it, I think they live off Wildwood road." I didn't say, but implied, that he'd paid.

They wanted to know if she was a pain to work with.

I said, "First, someone comes to me for help, no way I badmouth that. She's trying. That's genuine. So, good on her. Second, seems to me it's kind of like, not something I should talk about? Like, someone asks for help, they don't want it blabbed about. So, no gossip... not ethical."

They got on my case a little that she'd been unethical, or her friends had done this or that.

I cut it off. "Listen. She's smart. She seems like a hard worker. More than that, I can't say, I won't say, that's her business, not yours."

This dampened the calls for more dirt on her, and this whole conversation made me realize she'd been a lot more mean to people than I knew about.

The party broke up at about one a.m. I drove home and collapsed. Mom and Dad and I talked about having a curfew in college making no sense, and agreed about that, but they wanted to know I was safe.

Our agreement was that generally I'd sleep over on D-and-D nights, we usually went all night and crashed at like 2, but sometimes I'd come home so I'd text someone in the group when I got home so it was a known thing.

Unfortunately, again, once home, I had to break out the lube and porn and stroke it out. That meant possibly making sounds, and with the house so quiet, any sound I made I worried might just echo everywhere, even up from the basement.

I resolved to get a carpet for the floor and maybe some for the walls. I sometimes had to fall asleep when the TV was on in the room above me and that wasn't great either.

The suspended ceiling area where I'd worked had helped a lot, but there was a lot more to do before I finished that project.

== Chapter: The Next Three Weeks ==

That weekend I spent most of the time working in the basement, bending conduit, pulling wire, getting the storage room into much better shape so it could be a bigger bedroom option for me someday.

The TV room (the area with couches outside my bedroom and downstairs kitchen) was mostly done, though it needed paint and a better carpet than what Mom could find at a thrift store.

On Sunday, I got a surprise call from Annabelle Yeager - she goes by Bee.

Why Annabelle became 'Bee', I didn't know. It didn't matter.

I also had no idea how she had my number, but the caller ID had her name so, yeah, of course I answered. I'd known her from Chorus forever.

I won't repeat the phone call, but she had heard from her sister, who was great friends with my sister, that I was tutoring. She was in physics, and wondered if I could tutor in physics.

(I had taken it the previous year and remembered it pretty well, I'd gotten an A-, so yes.)

I said, sure, what's your schedule, and sure enough we had lunch together but sat in different parts of the cafeteria. I said, I do charge for tutoring, and I have to charge the same amount for all my 'students', same as the college charges normally.

There was a good chance this would kill the idea, but she said, "I'm okay with that but, maybe, we could have a practice session, shorter, to see if you really do a good job or not?"

I countered with the 'First 15 Minutes Free' idea, then $20/half or $40/hour rates, would that work?

Yes, she said, and proposed we meet at lunch on Tuesday in a room off the cafeteria they used for club meetings (glass windows, no privacy, but sound isolated so we didn't have the cafeteria noise). That's give me a day to review physics, she said, if that helped.

So, Tuesday rolled around, and I walked in and saw it wasn't one but four girls, all of them in chorus with me so I knew them pretty well.

First, there was Bee, who had black shoulder-length hair, very thick glasses, and despite always wearing thick bulky clothes every guy knew she had a massive chest. She was talkative and nice, very approachable, and I'd found that (despite being nervous around beautiful girls) I could always easily chat with her about almost anything.

Next to her was April Sonnetsenn, a dark-curly-haired girl with an olive skin complexion that reflected more about her being Jewish than about her sunbathing. Sudbury got normal amounts of sun, but I didn't know if people did a lot of sunbathing, I wasn't in that crowd.

April also wore bulky clothes, but everything she wore was black.

Roo Krist sat next to her, looking up from her lunch (we could eat in there but we had to clean up afterwards). Roo was Japanese, I was pretty sure, by ancestry, though she spoke with a normal Canadian accent. She was alto and sat 2 chairs over.

Lastly there was Julie Hannis, whose thick dark hair wasn't as curly as Bee's, and I was pretty sure she was Jewish, too, though I knew she was in Gymnastics because, well, everyone knew everyone else's name and some of their business, at least, at Midvale.

Small colleges are probably like small towns, and Midvale only had 2400 students.

I vaguely remembered seeing Julie when I'd gone to my sister's meets (sometimes happened) and my impression then was that she was more beautiful in her leotard than any person I felt I could probably ever talk to. In person, right there, it seemed a lot better, more comfortable for me at least.

If she'd have been in a leotard like I'd seen her? I would never have had my boner go down!

Of course, Bee being Bee, she put me and everyone else quickly at ease.

Bee explained that she'd been talking to some of her friends, there, that I was going to do tutoring in Physics for her, or in math since I was in calc 3 and she was in calc 2, and that the other girls wanted in on the deal, too.

The thing was, they wanted to chip in and go together on the $40/hour, instead of it being $160 an hour because that was crazy.

I thought about it and said, "Tell you what. It's at least half-again harder to pay attention to multiple people, so how about we compromise. $60/hour, $15 for each of you. Twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday, here, and we see how it goes. I may have to cut back after that, I have hard classes, too, and then I might just raise the rate back up to 40 a person in maybe 3 weeks if I get too overworked."

Bee looked around and they all decided that'd be okay.

We started, did half the class period and decided I wasn't an idiot (to some smiles) and we kept going.

I had a blast. It was really fun to figure out what they were stumbling on, and lay out a plan for practicing the parts they were missing.

At the end of the time, I asked them to write out an IOU for that day, and going forwards, a check or e-transfer or something would work.

So, we kept it up, week after week, two lunches a week. The problems were diverse, from all their classes, and I had a feeling they were trying to stump me with some of the problems.

Note that this was in addition to seeing Madison Tuesday and Thursday nights.

She'd come over, hang up her coat, and come downstairs, and we'd chat for a moment, get books out, and then, boom, she'd pull off her top, unbuckle / strip her bra off, I'd strip down, and we'd get to work.

After the second time she'd come over, that next week, I'd stopped in while Mom was watching one of her geology online-videos (she loved the stuff and a prof had put all his courses online).

So, I knew I was catching her in a good mood.

I explained about how I was tutoring Madison, and she nodded, I'd mentioned that before, and that Madison was paying $40/hour for the tutoring, so not to interrupt us unless the house was burning down.

She could tell I was hesitating to tell her something. I was really afraid she'd forbid me from doing this, or that it was taking advantage of Madison, somehow, so I told the story of how we knew what kind of person Madison was, and, then... what kind of arrangement I had made.