The Tutor

I sat across from her and looked over the papers she handed me. She was babbling nervously, explaining and apologizing. I was looking at the words, and listening to her voice but I wasn't really listening or really reading. My room was thick with the smell of her sex. I glanced down and saw the drops pf cum on her thighs, and that the crotch of her shorts were wet. I forced myself to look away. I hated myself.

We got through her work and rather than invite her to stay for dinner again, I told her I was really tired. She said that was fine and that she was too and hurriedly packed her things.

"I wrote this for you," she mumbled, passing me some papers. It was another story. I hadn't given her other story back, but I promised I'd have both for her next week.

"I can let myself out," she smiled weakly and padded down the stairs. Calling, "See you next week," as she closed the door behind her.

But we didn't. I stayed in that night and kept to myself that weekend. I swore to myself I wouldn't watch that video, but I did. Saturday night instead of going out I watched the video again and spent the evening shaving my pussy, like the dark haired girl, and masturbating like Sarah. I held myself the way she did, and touched myself the way she did, cumming silently, the way she had. I loved how smooth and clean my pussy felt against my wet fingers. I wondered what a tongue would feel like, what Sarah's mouth would feel like. I imagined standing over Sarah while she licked and sucked my smooth hairless lips, pushed her tongue into me, my belly convulsing like the girl in the video. I made myself cum again and again, but as I finally let myself sleep I felt dirty and cheap, embarrassed by what I'd done.

The next few days I was in a foul mood and had trouble focusing on my work. All I could think about was that stupid video and Sarah. I emailed her the morning before our session, telling her I wasn't feeling well, that I'd need to skip. She wrote me back telling me she was sorry and asking if she could do anything for me. I felt like such a creep.

I didn't see her again until the following Saturday night. There was a big house party - huge really - down the block from Hill House. I'd kept to myself over the last week and my housemate Don could tell something was wrong, he pressed me to come, and after a week of moping I relented. It was fun, if a little too wild for my taste. The semester was pretty much over and people were cutting loose; me included I guess. I stayed too long and had too much to drink. I had gone outside to get some air, feeling a little too drunk to walk home by myself. The backyard was big and poorly lit. I'd drifted past the smokers, and the debate circles of lawn chairs to the back of the yard where it was quiet and dark. That's where I found Sarah, she could hardly stand.

"REBEKAH!" she laughed when she saw me. "OH MY GOD IT'S MY TUTOR!"

She was standing with a group of guys I didn't recognize, all of whom looked rough, and none of whom looked particularly happy to see me.

"Hey Sarah, who are your friends?"

"Oh, this is..."

"Rob." The biggest guy said. He had a tattoo on the side of his neck and his voice was deep, I was sure I'd never seen him before, that he definitely didn't go to Brown. "This is Tommy and that's Patrick."

"Great, nice..." I wasn't looking at Rob and his friends however I was looking at Sarah, who looked dangerously drunk, vacant even. "Well nice to meet you guys, but Sarah and I need to go, our ride is leaving."

"Ride?"

"You don't need to take Sarah, we can give her a ride." It was the one called Tommy, he wasn't as tall as his friend Rob but he was fat in a way that hid muscles, he had reached to take Sarah by the arm.

"You like to party Rebekah?" the one called Patrick asked. He was skinny and weasely. His white blonde hair was long and greasy. He was smiling at me, showing off a broken tooth. He sidled around me, blocking me from the party.

"Yeah, no worries Rebekah, we got this," Rob told me, stepping in close, crowding me.

I didn't let him separate me from Sarah, instead I moved in closer to her and pushed my arm around her waist, pulling her back and pushing Patrick out of my away.

"Hey-"

"Yeah no," I said firmly. "Our friends are waiting. We need to go!"

I took another step back and turned, dragging Sarah along with me, ignoring the protests of the guys behind us, which got louder and more toxic as we got closer to the light of the kitchen door. The debaters and smokers were looking at us with alarm, but no one moved to help us.

I heard Patrick yell "DYKE!" just as the screen door slammed.

"Jesus Sarah," I whispered.

"Whash happen Rebekah, whash wrong?"

She was really smashed. I kept my arm around her and pushed through the crowd until I found Don.

"I need you to walk us home."

"Wait, what?"

He was talking to his buddy Gene and a few others, they all looked confused. Hill house wasn't far.

"You can come back," I explained. "But I need you and Gene to walk us home."

My expression, and my tone was enough. Don got up and told Gene to come. I saw Patrick and Rob giving us an ugly glare from the kitchen, so I warned Don about the three stooges. He gathered up a couple more guys and gave a heads up to one of the guys throwing the party as we left.

Sarah and I ended up being walked back to Hill House by five guys, all puffed up and excited by the idea of being our protectors. They were loud and rowdy which made me laugh, but Sarah seemed to withdraw into herself. She hardly said a word on the walk home.

Happily we never saw Patrick or Rob or Tommy again. Don and the others got us to the porch and turned right around to return to the party.

I was left with a very drunk Sarah.

"Let's get some water into you," I whispered as I led her back to the kitchen. I sat her down and got us each a glass of ice water. I gulped at mine greedily, but she only sipped, looking down the whole time.

"I'm sho shorry Rebekah," she mumbled. "I'm such a fuck up. I ruined your night."

"Hush!" I laughed, meaning it. "You didn't ruin anything."

"But you had to leave."

"I was leaving anyway. Now stop fretting and drink your water, otherwise you're going to have the mother of all hangovers."

"I should go," she announced, and started to stand. I put a hand on her thigh and pushed her down, it didn't take much.

"Drink your water Sarah."

She did as she was told, looking at me with wide eyes as she took big gulps this time. Water wet and dribbled off her lips. As she wiped her chin with the back of her hand, I smiled at her approvingly and took her cup of ice, refilling it at the tap.

"Danny would have kicked thoshe guysh ashes," she announced behind me, her tone brash and angry. I turned to look at her, expecting her to look defiant, but instead she looked downcast. "...but he'd have been furioush with me," she admitted. "I'd have never heard the end of it."

"I'm not mad at you," I promised, handing her her glass, and petting her hair. She looked up at me, her eyes watery. "Come on Sarah, let's go to bed."

I took her free hand in mine and pulled her up, and took her again by the waist.

"But I should go..."

"Nope."

"But you're..."

"Nope."

"I can't..."

"Yes you can."

It was a case of the blind drunk leading the blind drunk. I was almost as unsteady as Sarah. But I kept my grip on her waist and she kept hold of my shoulders. We staggered through the big empty house and climbed the stairs bouncing against the banisters.

"You're mush quieter than you shound from your room," she observed, watching my feet as she climbed.

We had made it to my room without falling or major spills. I set our glasses on the bedside while Sarah waited, swaying in the dark.

"I love your bed," she admitted behind me. I took her waist again and we staggered in the dark to the bathroom.

"I've never been in here, ish nishe," she slurred.

I didn't bother with the lights and just stepped up to the basin and turned on the taps. We took turns splashing our faces in the dark, over and over again, until the two of us were in hysterics and splashing each other. Our shirts were soaked as we toweled off our faces. Sarah followed me back into the bedroom, but passed me and fell like a log, face down, onto my bed. I kicked off my shoes and shimmied out of my jeans. My baby-t and little bikini cut panties had felt like a sexy choice when I was getting ready earlier that night, but standing over Sarah, my chest wet and nipples hard I felt more exposed than if I'd actually been naked.

Sarah's feet were hanging off the bed, she was wearing big black lace up boots. I knelt and began to work at the laces.

"mmmmMMmm" she grumped as I pulled the first boot off, but she turned over and "helped" me with the second one - or attempted to. Mostly she just kicked at my hands. She was up on her elbow laughing and watching me as I pulled off her socks.

"Come on," I commanded, giving the cuffs of her jeans a tug. She unbuttoned her fly and pushed at her belt loops with her thumbs as I tugged the legs of her jeans over her feet. She rocked and pumped her hips as I jerked and with a squeal I got her pants off and panties down to her knees.

The two of us laughed ourselves silly as she fought with her panties which had rolled and twisted like rope. I crawled onto the bed next to her laughing hysterically at her vain efforts to unwind them.

"Aren't you going to take off your bra?" I teased.

She was still tugging ineffectually at her panties, trying to get them up her thighs.

"I can't," she gasped, letting go of her panties and throwing her hands over her head in a show of surrender. "Help me," she commanded, pushing her lip out in a mock pout.

I was still on my hands and knees but reached for the hem of her shirt and began to jerk it up. She arched and twisted while I pulled and stretched, making her laugh again. And then we were both laughing as we fought the wet little shirt, trying to get it over her boobs and then up over her arms. After I got it inside out over her head we both were too overcome with laughter. It was all too much. She twisted and wrestled, was on her side, her back to me and her head and arms still tangled in the shirt, her panties pulled down below her ass. I undid her bra and she squealed, her breasts bursting free, but I was no longer laughing. I was gasping for breath as I put my hand on Sarah's belly. She seemed to sense the change and went still.

I could hear her breathing hard behind the scrim of her t-shirt, feel her belly pumping. Her body twisted towards me. My hand trembled as I slid it under her breast and cupped it. I watched her nipple react to the touch of my thumb, swelling and growing long. She was so perfect. With my free hand I pulled her collar free of her jaw and pushed her shirt up so I could see her face. The two of us worked her shirt up and off. Together we worked her bra off.

I stroked her belly, letting my hand push down, found Sarah's bush and pushing my fingers through the damp hairs, I made a fist and pulled.

"Rebekah!"

Her eyes were wide with shock. We were staring at each other in the darkness. Sarah bared her teeth and pushed her breasts at me. I let go of her bush and pressed my fingers into her, felt her heat. Her eyes rolled back in her head and I brought my mouth very close to hers, so our lips were almost touching and I was breathing her breath. She was making little hiccup sounds as my fingers pressed into her, she was so wet.

"I like when you watch me," she admitted, and I felt a charge. It was my turn to be shocked.

"I love watching you," I whispered. Her gaze seemed fixed and a bit glazed, but she reached for me, pulling me to her, kissing me hard.

I felt a thrill blast through me as Sarah pushed her tongue into my mouth. She tasted of spirits, something sweet, like Southern Comfort.

I realized I was moaning loudly into Sarah's mouth, that I couldn't help myself. I pulled away to catch my breath, Sarah was panting, her eyes a little crossed. I was stroking her clit with two fingers, it was much bigger than mine, felt long and beautifully smooth. I thought of how she stroked herself, and moved my fingers just the way she did.

"Rebekah..." she breathed, slurring still. I lifted my leg over hers, used my foot to push her panties down and feeling her kicking them off as I climbed between her opening legs. My hand was working faster now. I raised myself so I could look down on her. She twisted on the bed in front of me, flailing her arms, grabbing at my pillows, her breasts, her belly.

"pleathh..."

Her t-shirt was still wrapped around one arm, tangled with her bra.

I started to move my knees back. I pictured lowering myself, lifting her thighs, bending my neck and bringing my mouth to her pussy. Sarah was whining. An almost silent keen that slowly rose in pitch. Her eyes were shut tight, her brow furrowed. She was squeezing her breasts, pulling at her nipples.

I heard someone come in the front door and touched her lips with my free hand, pressed down on her lips. Whoever it was was climbing the steps. Sarah opened her mouth getting louder for a moment, but then she was sucking my finger.

God I loved her mouth. Whoever had come in passed my room and moved towards the back of the house. Sarah and I were staring at each other, her holding my wrist and sucking my fingers. I fingered her pussy and her mouth, taking fast shallow breaths, soaking my panties.

I thought of the girls in the video, of the way the dark haired girl had stood over and straddled the other girls face, how her stomach convulsed as she came. I took my hand from Sarah's pussy and brought my wet fingers to her mouth, smearing her lips. I watched her suck my fingers clean. she was making the high pitch noise again, she sounded increasingly desperate. We stared at each other, both wild eyed as I took my hand from her mouth. She went silent and stared wide eyed as I pulled my panties down and off. Once I was free I returned my hand to her pussy, pushing in and out of her, wetting my fingers. She gritted her teeth and pumped her hips as I did.

She made a small angry sound as I pulled my fingers away, but smiled as I brought them back to her mouth.

As she took my fingers back into her mouth I climbed over her so I was straddling her chest, my knees pressed into her armpits. I was thrusting my shaved pussy forward, my head felt light. I flexed the muscles of my back and ass, loving her watching me.

Glassy eyed, Sarah raised her arms up and began to shimmy between my legs. I lifted my knee so she could move her arm under it, then the other for her other arm. Now I was straddling her face. Her lips were parted and wet, her eyes a bit vacant. Her expression was the resting ditz face, her Clark Kent. As I pushed my fingers into her hair and lowered my cunt onto her mouth I realized that while I was a little intimidated by Sarah's Superman, it was her Clark Kent I wanted to fuck all along.

"MMMMmmmM!"

My back arched as her open mouth embraced me, her tongue pushed into me.

"Yesss!" I hissed.

I reached back behind me and blindly slid my fingers down her belly and through the damp hairs of her bush and curled my fingers into her. She was so wet.

"MMMmmGD!"

I rolled my hips loving the feel of her thick wet mouth against my smooth denuded lips. I began to pump my fingers over her clit. She slurped and blubbered and gulped, her tongue lashing me. I felt like I was drowning her.

Her hips pumped at my hand, begging me to go faster. I could feel her growing frantic under me, she was going to cum so fast. Her hands had been holding my hips but she threw them to the mattress, pounding and flailing as my fingers fought to keep track of her clit against her jerking hips.

"MmmmMMMMMmmMMMMMM!"

Her ass lifted off the bed and her hands pulled at the sheets as she came. I was staring into her eyes which looked half crazed and adoring. Finally it was too much and she grabbed at my wrist and wrenched my fingers away. I lifted myself up off her, wanting to give her a chance to breath, but she grabbed my waist in both her arms and pulled at me.

"No, please... please Rebekah... let me... I want it."

I put both my hands on her head and lowered myself again, watching as she wrapped her lips around my clit and began to suck.

I wake up early when I drink, I hate it, but once I'm up there's nothing I can do to get back to sleep. That next morning was no different. I disentangled myself and got up, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and tried to get my hair under control. I slipped on a pair of sweatpants, staring at Sarah. She was laying face down, her hair a strawberry blonde rat's nest. She was bare assed. Her shirt and bra were still wound around her arm, her panties hung from one ankle. I pulled the covers over her and opened the door as quietly as possible.

The house was silent as I padded down stairs in my bare feet to make coffee. I sat and drank ice water while the pot brewed, staring out at the weedy overgrown garden and thinking of nothing. I'd woken up with Sarah cuddling me from behind, her arm around my waist.

I wondered what she would say, what I should say. I pictured her looking lovingly at me; wondered at the pounding in my chest. The machine made the happy sizzling noise signaling coffee was ready.

I felt a jolt of joy as I carried our coffees through the sleeping house.

I pushed the door open with my foot and found Sarah sitting up in bed. She was rubbing her mouth with the heel of her hand, her shirt was twisted and wrinkled, but it was on, her hair a fright.

"How did I end up here?"

I was holding our coffees. Her question stopped me cold.

"What?"

"Did I come here after the party?"

""No, you... I..."

I was sputtering, not sure what to say. Was she serious? She looked genuinely confused.

"There were guys at the party?" I said doubtfully, hoping she would remember. "Rob and Patrick and Tommy? There was kind of a scene?"

Sarah just looked confused.

"It was scary..." I tried to explain. "Don and a bunch of other guys had to walk us home... back here?"

"You were at the party?

She looked bewildered. I didn't know what to say.

"I'm not wearing any underpants."

"Um. You were really drunk," I told her, handing her her coffee. "We both were."

It was an awkward morning. I couldn't be sure but I don't think she was pretending to have forgotten. At least not at first, but I was shocked at how entirely she had blacked it all out.

She got dressed and excused herself to go back to her dorm, apologizing for any trouble. She was clearly embarrassed, and I didn't want to make it worse so I didn't stop her. But I was stunned. After she left I sat in bed, my ears ringing like I'd fallen on my head. As hard as I tried to gather my wits I couldn't.

When Sarah emailed, again apologizing for any trouble and asking if we were still on to work together that week I almost told her no. I felt a rage boil up and started to pound out an angry response calling her a liar and a fake, but then I thought about the way I'd snuck around and pretended to leave the house; what an absolute fake and coward I was.

I cried, but I didn't hit send. Instead I deleted it. Told her she was no trouble and I was looking forward to working with her. The semester was almost over, and it would be our last session. I looked around my room and wondered at the fact I hadn't started packing, my total lack of any sort of plan. I needed to make some decisions.

When Sarah arrived that week I went down to let her in. The guys had all left already. She looked beautiful standing there on the porch. She was wearing little running shorts and a tank top. Her bag was slung over one shoulder. She looked nervous to see me, her gaze was furtive. She was in full Clark Kent mode.