The College Tutor

***Authors Note: This is my first attempt at putting a story out into the public eye. It starts slow, but hopefully ends well. I welcome any and all comments. Thank you, and enjoy.***

*****

Thomas was very nervous, very dreadfully nervous. It was his final tutoring session with Emily before his final exam, and he wasn't even worried about how he was going to perform on the test. He was worried because this session felt much different than any other before it. The last few months had been leading up to this night, whether he was aware of it or not.

Emily was nearly five years older than Thomas, and currently a graduate student, who did tutoring on the side to make a little extra cash. She was helping Thomas through his Epic Poetry course. Going into the final he had a low A grade, and he knew with a good final exam score he would that A, which would greatly help his GPA. He wasn't really that nervous about the exam; he had over prepared for it and was confident he would breeze through it, unlike some of his fellow students. He would have to completely bomb this last exam to not pass the class at all. So, nearly all of his focus was on Emily, thinking back on how the past few months had progressed.

******

He had been attracted to her from the moment they first met back in mid-September. He had quickly discovered he was in over his head, and that Dante, Virgil and Homer were going to bury him unless he was able to find help. She had knocked softly on his door, and with great trepidation he had answered it. He had spoken with his professor and was placed on a list to be paired with a tutor and his expectations had been an uppity, overly confident male grad student who would talk down to him and belittle his ignorance of ancient literature. Upon seeing who the course instructor had matched him with for his tutoring sessions, he was left nearly speechless.

She stood at his door, a currier style bag slung over her shoulder, smiling at him with a genuine smile. Her blue eyes shone brightly, with authentic happiness as she asked, "Are you Thomas?" in the most wonderful British accent he had ever heard.

"Uh...," he replied, before coughing quietly and finally answering, "Yeah. I'm him... I mean, that's him... I mean, that's me."

She chuckled, "Perfect, I'm Emily. Dr. Cloughton set me up as your tutor for the semester."

"Perfect," he mimicked, with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

She smiled, and then waited patiently, as Thomas just stood staring at her.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Emily bit her lip softly and asked, "Would it be okay if I came in?"

"Oh crap, yes of course, I'm sorry," he said, as he quickly backed up, opening the door to his small apartment fully. He backed up so quickly he got his feet tangled and nearly fell to the floor. He grabbed for the handle on the door in hopes of saving himself, but his fingers slipped as he tumbled backwards. Luckily Emily reached out and grasped his arm before he managed to fall to the floor in complete embarrassment. Her radiant smile remained in place through the whole ordeal.

"I'm okay, sorry, two left feet I guess," he sputtered.

She chuckled softly again, "Not a problem. Why don't you show me where you want to start and we'll set out a plan of action for the semester."

He was enamored with her laugh and smile. They pulled him in and immediately made him feel comfortable. Small laugh lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes with each smile, testifying that she was likely happy a great amount of the time. It was infectious, and he began feeling his own face stretch with a smile, as well.

Thomas gestured to the small living room/dining room/common space that was also directly adjacent to the kitchen.

He shrugged, gave an embarrassed half-smile and said, "Not a lot of options, it's pretty small."

"Seems perfectly cozy to me," she replied, dropping her bag onto the worn brown couch. "Cozy-comfy, perfect for studying."

"I suppose so," he replied, quickly seeing how she was likely the type of person to put a positive spin on everything.

That night they didn't crack one book. Instead, Emily laid out her plan of attack, a step-by-step approach to getting Thomas into a situation where he could succeed. He did his best to focus on what she was saying, but he was constantly forcing himself to refocus on their plan. Too often he found himself distracted by her beauty and presence.

She had dark brown hair which she had pulled back into a ponytail, but when free would fall to just above her shoulder blades. Her enchanting blue eyes never lost the energy he had seen when he had opened the door. She had a very cute nose, cut sharp, but perfectly suited for her face. She wore capris, opened toed sandals, and a loose blouse top that managed to hide some of her figure. Thomas, however, was able to observe enough through her movements to discern she was lean, muscular in a very feminine and attractive way, and had absolutely perfect breasts.

Trying to imagine just what her body looked like under her clothes was one of his biggest distractions. He felt guilty, thinking of her in such a sexual way after just meeting her, but he was also very aroused. Thomas was constantly shifting and adjusting his body as he sat on the couch next to her, in an attempt to keep his growing erection from being seen.

Emily seemed distracted by his constant motion, but seemed to be writing it off as nervous energy. Her focus stayed on her study plan, which she had laid out in a excel sheet.

"Dr. Coughton likes to pretend he doesn't play favorites when it comes to the epic authors, but those of us who've been around long enough know he has a soft spot for Dante. Be prepared for the Divine Comedy. I think we need to spend roughly half of our energies there. If we can get you super knowledgeable and comfortable with that particular work it's going to set you up really well."

"Yeah, I saw that on the syllabus, but I honestly have no idea what it's about. Only the references I've heard in pop culture, and I seriously doubt that's going to do me any favors," Thomas said.

"No, you're better off forgetting anything you've heard. But don't worry; I know what I'm doing. I promise if you stick with me and the schedule, "she said, gesturing to the Excel sheet, "I'll get you to the end in good shape. "

"Thank you. I already feel much better about this. That first day of class, I was seriously worried I was in over my head."

"Thank me at the end. Any other questions?" she asked.

"Well, nothing that really pertains to Epic Poetry," he responded.

She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow, in obvious curiosity.

Thomas cleared his throat, a bit nervous now that the conversation had turned away from the more comfortable area of school. "The accent, what brought you here?"

Her laugh warmed his heart and immediately let him forget how ridiculous the question sounded in his own head.

"I was always fascinated with America, visited a few times with my parents when I was younger. Eventually an opportunity arose to come here for college and I snapped it up. And here I am, with no regrets."

"Even having to help ignorant dunces like me?" he asked.

She put her hand on his shoulder, in a very friendly way, but his skin tingled at her touch regardless.

"I don't do this because I'm forced to. I volunteer of my own accord. I like doing it, I like helping people. And I can tell you're not ignorant. You just need to be exposed to some new information. I have the feeling you're going to catch on pretty quick."

She pulled her hand away and it took everything in him to not grab her arm and pull it back.

"Let's plan on meeting again Thursday, back here and really dive in. Work for you?" she asked.

"Yeah... of course, perfect... yeah, that'll be great," he replied, barely keeping his composure.

She smiled again, and he nearly melted into the couch.

"I'm looking forward to it, you're going to be a fun one, I can tell," she said.

Thomas smiled, but could not for the life of him dredge up any reply he felt worthy of her remark.

"Anyway, I'll let you get back to your evening, and see you on Thursday," she said, as she scooped up her papers, easily sliding them into her bad, but leaving a copy of the schedule on his coffee table.

She stood and headed for the door, and Thomas found himself captivated watching her walk. She strode elegantly and effortless. And her ass looked absolutely amazing in her pants. His eyes were glued to her bum, and it was only when she stopped at the door and turned to look back at him, that his gaze drifted up her body he discovered she was staring at him. She could not have missed the fact that he had been staring at her butt.

Initially she had a serious look on her face, one he had not yet seen during the course of the evening. Then a sly smile crept onto her face. He still wasn't sure if he was in the clear or not. The smile was almost wolfish, not the warm welcoming he had been shown most of the night to that point.

She finally broke the silence, "See anything you like?"

The best reply his brain was able to put out was, "Uh..."

She winked mischievously and let herself out of his apartment, closing the door softly behind her.

******

Over the course of the semester Thomas and Emily met up once or twice a week for their tutoring sessions. Thomas felt like there was always an underlying current of flirtation from Emily, but he found it difficult to separate that from her general friendly nature. He didn't want to read into anything and overstep his bounds. In addition, he was a complete chicken shit, was too scared of being rejected to even push the boundaries a little.

At their fourth session she arrived at his door soaked head to toe. She had ridden her bicycle, and had been caught up in a surprise and fleeting rain storm. She had not bothered to wear a jacket, and her clothes were completely drenched. They clung to her tightly, showing off more of the figure Thomas had come to be obsessed with. Though she was wearing a bra, he was still able to see her perfect breasts outlined against the wet material. Her flat toned stomach was also apparent.

Thomas did his best not to stare, and obliged when she had asked to borrow his bathroom and some other clothes to throw on instead of her current outfit. He had quickly scrounged for something clean that would be appropriate, and finally settled on some baggy red plaid pajama pants with a drawstring and a black Nine Inch Nails t-shirt. He quietly knocked on the bathroom door, expecting her to open it a crack for him to push the clothes through. Instead she opened the door nearly fully. He was treated to the sight of her clad only in a black nearly see through bra and went pants.

Again, he did his best not to stare, and quickly handed over the clothes, apologizing for not having anything better.

"These will do just fine, no worries," she smiled. "I may even end up stealing your Nails t-shirt and claiming it as my own."

With that she closed the door, and Thomas went back to the couch, cracking open the Iliad and taking some notes.

When she emerged a few minutes later, he began to realize, in his eyes, she could look sexy in just about anything. He had guessed the pj pants would look a bit ridiculous, but somehow they made her seem even more at home in his apartment; like she belonged there. The t-shirt he had assumed would be a bit loose and baggy seemed to fit her remarkably well. It took him a few moments to realize that she was no longer wearing her bra; her hard nipples were clearly showing through the material of the shirt. Either she caught him staring immediately, or had planned on broaching the subject quickly.

"So, apologies about the lack of a bra, but it was soaked through too and was starting to chafe a bit. I hung it up in the bathroom to dry, if that's ok. Hopefully this won't be too distracting for you," she said, with clear humor in her voice.

He stuttered initially, but finally managed to get out, "No, should be just fine. Are you cold? I could get a sweatshirt or something."

"Trying to cover me up already?" she asked, in a very playful way.

"No, no, just thought you might be a bit cold or uncomfortable."

"Nope, I am perfectly comfortable. Even more than normal when we study. Aside from how baggy the pants are, this isn't too different from how I would dress home alone or in for the night."

"Ah, ok, well, perfect then. You look really good, for what it's worth," Thomas said.

She smiled warmly, "Thank you. That's a very nice thing to say. I feel good as well."

She plopped down on the couch next to him, not shying away from skin to skin contact as she did. He felt a tingle at the touch, just as he did the first time she touched them on their first meeting.

"Shall we get into it then?" she asked.

"Yeah, sounds good," he replied, wanting to lean into her, to feel her warmth.

Every session lasted between an hour and 90 minutes. She was a remarkably good teacher, and within the first few weeks Thomas felt he had a very good grasp on the material. In any other circumstance he would have attempted to forge ahead through the class without the help. But the idea of not seeing her anymore nearly gave him the shakes. He was addicted and wasn't letting her go unless he was forced to.

He knew that she was aware of how well he was doing in the class, and he suspected she also knew that he didn't really need her around anymore. Yet, she showed up every week as bubbly and helpful as always.

The time he spent studying with her also motivated him to do better in his other courses. The better he did elsewhere, the more time he was able to focus on Epic Poetry away from their study sessions, and the more time it gave to be more casual and less focused during their sessions. Initially he had worried she would keep things focused on studying and avoid any deviation away from school, but it became quickly apparent she was more than willing to take time to allow their brains to step away from the ancient literature. It didn't hurt that he was acing his quizzes and knew the material nearly as well as she did.

As the tutoring progressed, he swore that her physical contact with him was becoming for frequent. It wasn't anything that was obvious or seemed forward, just subtle contact, things that could be construed as incidental.

Every time she touched him, he got that same tingle of excitement that coursed through his body. He began to imagine kissing her thin slightly pale lips, and wondered if he would be able to hold onto consciousness if he ever got to feel them against his own.

As the semester continued on, his daydreaming about Emily, her body, and his desires for her became more noticeable to Emily. She often times had to bring him back to reality with a gentle nudge to his shoulder or a finger in his ear. Though there was no way for her to know exactly what thoughts he was having, but he wondered how much she accurately suspected.

His mid-term exam arrived, just shy of Halloween, and on their last studying session prior to the test Emily arrived at his apartment dressed up for a Halloween party she would be attending after they finished. Her face was made up in Day of the Dead make-up, she wore a very low cut appropriately macabre dress, extremely sexy leggings, and sheer netted gloves with the fingers cut out. It took everything in him, not to pull her to his body roughly and kiss her long and hard. She looked absolutely fantastic.

"I was going to apologize for my get-up," she said, chuckling, "by judging by the look on your face I'd say you don't really mind too much."

He simply nodded his approval, unable to form words.

She smiled a toothy smile and said, "Well, I'm going to say sorry anyway. I had forgotten I had this party to go to, something one of my friends had talked me into a few weeks back. What you see before you," she said, raising her arms and spinning, "is the agreed upon costume. Day of the Dead in the best way I can pull off. My friend helped me with the make-up, she's amazing. You like?"

Thomas smiled his own toothy smile and replied, "Like you have to ask," sticking his tongue out at her.

"Ah, but a girl likes to hear a compliment now and then," she said back.

"I seriously doubt you have any problems there," Thomas said.

Her smile faltered a bit, "You might be surprised."

He sensed a bit of sadness in her then, something he had never seen. But before he could dig for clarification she breezed into his apartment, threw her back on the couch and said, "Let's get to studying. We need to get you prepped for this mid-term."

Thomas let further exploration of the sadness he had seen slide for the moment and allowed her to focus on studying. It didn't last long, however.

"Well, it's obvious that you don't need me for prep, you know this stuff forwards and backwards," she said, leaning back into the couch. "From the looks of things you might not even need me at all anymore."

He looked at her quickly then, the fear of losing her written all over his face. He knew she saw it for what it was, yet she didn't acknowledge it.

"But, the second half of this class is the tricky bit. We'll dive into The Divine Comedy and you're going to need to really know your stuff. You won't be getting rid of me that easy," Emily said.

Thomas let out an audible sigh of relief, and Emily smiled knowingly. He was feeling so fortunate to have kept her around for a bit longer that he insisted she go to her party early and not waste her evening with him. She initially resisted, but his persistence won over and she eventually she headed out the door a bit earlier than she normally would. His motivation for pushing her to leave early was twofold: 1- he was so grateful for her insisting on continuing her tutoring, he wanted to give her something back, and 2- seeing her in her Halloween outfit had him so incredibly turned on, he was going to need some personal time to relieve his pent up sexual energy. And he did release that pent up sexual energy once she had left, twice in fact.

He made it through his mid-term with a low A, and the second high mark in the class. There were only four more quizzes and two more writing assignments prior to the final exam, but Thomas was feeling very confident. Emily, however, was spot on with her prediction for the second half of the course, in that it was very heavy on Dante's opus. Luckily, he had heeded her warning when they had first met, and had been spending some of his time over the first half working his way through The Comedy. Having made it through the work once already had allowed him to delve into its intricacies with more knowledge and voracity than had it been his first reading. He was exceptionally confident that he could handle what was ahead.

What he wasn't prepared for was the week of Thanksgiving. Emily was remaining at school, with no family near and no real connection to the holiday. Thomas, however, had family obligations, and had no intention of disappointing his mother or the guilt that would follow if he did. What it meant, however, is he would have to go an entire week without seeing her. By this time, he was completely addicted, and looked on that week apart with dread and sadness.

It was possible his imagination was allowing him fanciful thoughts, but in the two sessions leading up to the Thanksgiving Break, he thought that Emily too acted a bit down, just not her usual bubbly self. He even went so far as to ask her if she was okay, but she had quickly brushed off the inquiry and changed the subject.

Thanksgiving came and went, and Thomas survived the absence of Emily in his life. Mostly because she found time to e-mail him over those few days. Most of her friends had left to visit family or at the very least step away from school for a bit, and she was feeling a bit lonely. Her admittance of this was a new direction in their relationship. Up to that point she had kept much of her personal life locked up, only sharing the passing bit of info that applied to whatever conversation they might be having. The connection he felt to her grew even stronger through those more personal e-mails over the break.