Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: The Tutor (MF, cons)
Date: 11 Oct 1995 00:22:46 GMT

			      The Tutor

	I started to run, not very fast, down the main corridor.
Jogging through the high school's empty halls recalled my escapes from
class near ten years before. As I turned a corner, a girl stepped out
of a restroom doorway right into my path, her back to me. I slowed and
called "Track!" like we used to do when I went to school here. She
glanced over her shoulder and skipped aside. On impulse I patted her
blue-jeaned behind as I passed her at a slow jog.

	She yelled at me, "You'll have to do better than that, smart-
ass!"

	I almost stopped, but then she laughed, a high-pitched giggle,
and made a loud raspberry. Then I did stop and turned to face her. She
looked about 16, a little awkward in her newly grownup body, her face
framed by long blonde hair. I waited for her to come closer, and she
started to veer around me.

	"Hey, I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean anything by that - I
must have thought I was still in high school here."

	She stopped and looked at me then. "So? No big deal. Forget
it," she muttered through tight lips.

	I felt her annoyance and so I persisted, "Really, I apologize,
that was thoughtless, I'm sorry if it upset you, it was some crazy
kind of reflex reaction or something - like we used to do when I was a
student here. And your wisecrack made me want to see who you are, and
apologize. OK?"

	She had started to walk around me but paused then, looked me
in the eye, and half-smiled, "Well, you'll still have to do better
than that, y'know? How long ago were in school here?" She raised her
eyebrows expectantly.

	"Almost ten years ago now," I replied. "I'm just on my way to
the office to schedule some tutoring."

	"Yeah? Tutoring in what?" she asked.

	"Anything except heavy science or advanced math. I'm a
language person."

	"Well, gotta go. I'm late for gym." She strode off down the
hallway purposefully.

	"Hey - what's your name?" I called after her.

	"Lisa," she answered without turning her head, and disappeared
around a corner.

	A week later I was back, to tutor some students after school.
I had finished my first session and was waiting for the next student
to come, a junior who needed help in French III. Lisa walked in about
five minutes late.

	"Bonjour, Lisa," I greeted her. "I'm Richard Morton. You can
call me Richard," I said, pronouncing my name "Ree-shar" in French, "I
don't need you to call me Mister Morton. Ca va?"

	"D'accord, Richard," she answered quietly. We sat side by side
and looked over her homework and textbook to see what she needed help
with. I was friendly and joked about high school to try to put her at
ease. She barely smiled and seemed very self- conscious, not at all
like the sassy girl who snapped a retort at me when I slapped her
bottom. After working through some grammar review for a few minutes, I
interrupted the drill.

	"Lisa, is something bothering you? I mean, if you're not
comfortable working with me, feel free to say so and we can cut it
short right now. I don't want you to waste time on this if you're too
uptight to get anything out of these sessions."

	She looked at me for a moment, then turned her and head half-
smiled, chewing her lip. "I'm just not feeling so hot today. It'll
pass."

	"Ok. I hope you feel better next time - see you next week,
right?"

	"Yeah. I really need help with this French. Thanks." She
clasped her books to her chest and left.

	The next week we met again for another review session. She
felt better and we worked well together, covering a lot of the
material and getting her minor problems cleared up. I kidded her about
not puckering up her lips enough to make the fronted "U" sound.

	"I bet French girls practice by kissing," she joked, crossing
her arms over her chest.

	I assured her that French girls didn't kiss any better or
differently than anyone else, that it was mainly mythology and
exaggeration about the French being more romantic or better lovers.

	She almost blushed, then asked me, "Have you ever know a
French girl... or woman?"

	"As a matter of fact, I have. She was very nice, but even more
hung-up than most American girls. We broke up after a few weeks."

	"So, she didn't kiss any better than American girls?"

	"Not really. She had nice lips but her heart wasn't in it.
Most French girls are Catholic and have a fairly sheltered upbringing,
despite what you might have heard about the sexy French mademoiselle."

	"So, do you have a girl friend now?" Lisa ventured, her eyes
on her book.

	"No, not really. I'm pretty busy trying to get this tutoring
gig going, and taking some classes part-time."

	She smiled and then glanced at her watch. Time was up. We both
stood up. She turned to me and, fixing me with a firm gaze, said very
solemnly to me, "Richard, I want a lesson from you in love-making, in
French kissing, and everything else you know."

	I was taken aback, to put it mildly. I started to sputter some
objection.

	She put a hand on my chest and said "Really. I mean it. I want
you to teach me - show me how it's really done. I've heard about it,
read about it, seen it in the movies. I want to do it with you."

	"But, why me? I mean, I'm 26, you're, what 17? You're under
age, for one thing, I could get in trouble. And a boy your own age...
" I was going to say `would be more your own speed' or `more your'
style' but then maybe that's why she wanted me. "Are you serious,
Lisa? `Cause if you are, it's a legal risk for me. You're what they
call jail bait, ya know? I could get busted badly for any sex with a
girl under 18 - even if it wasn't exactly rape." I was trying to offer
some feeble objection, but she put both hands on my chest and stepped
closer.

	"Don't worry, I'll be 18 next month, and I'm not going to be
any readier, physically, than I am right now." She put her arms around
my neck and drew herself close to me. She was nearly as tall as I, so
I didn't have to look down at all. I was feeling scared, but the
excitement of her smell and her obvious eagerness was powerful
medicine.

	She moved her face closer and whispered huskily, "Please kiss
me, just once anyway."

	I could hardly resist. We kissed gently for half a minute, and
I started to pull back. She tightened her embrace and opened her
mouth, touching her tongue to mine. She squirmed and pressed her body
to mine. I hadn't really been holding her, but as she shuddered and
caressed by head and neck and thrust her tongue deeper into my mouth,
I hugged her happily.

	I was getting aroused, and fast. My hard-on rose and pressed
against her tight jeans. She may have been inexperienced but she was
avid and eager to please. She stroked my prick through my pants and
broke from the clinch.

	"Aren't you hot for me now? Admit it, don't you want to fuck
me? I want to fuck you," she said as she kissed around my mouth, chin,
neck.

	"Lisa, you're a very beautiful girl, and totally irresistible,
but I'm really not so sure we should be getting it on here, ya know
what I mean?" I protested weakly, pushing her

	"Don't worry, I won't get you in trouble," she murmured as she
ground her pelvis against mine. "I just want you to fuck me, and I'll
suck you off anytime you want, OK? Just try me, OK?"

	I didn't have any really objection to the prospect, but I
didn't like the setting one bit. "We'd better go somewhere else, maybe
some other time, OK? This is just too close to the office for me."

	She put my hands on her breasts. She had no bra on, her
nipples were perked and she moaned as she pressed my palms against her
hard points.

	"Don't worry. All the secretaries have gone home, it's after
4:30, nobody stays here this late, except the janitor, and he hangs
out in the gym to watch the girls' shower room from his hidey hole.
We're safe. The door's locked, come on," she urged me, as she knelt
and unzipped my pants and belt in a moment. She had my pants down in
another second and my prick sprang up, glans engorged and shiny
purple. She licked it and ran her tongue up and down the shaft.

	"Like this?" she inquired, as she cupped my balls in one hand
and with the other ran a finger from my perineum to my anus, tickling
the hairs and touching my asshole gently.

	"You're sure you've never done this before?" I asked with a
chuckle. She looked up and me and smiled.

	"I just listen to what the girls say in the locker room." She
took my cock in her mouth slowly, and humming "Sunshine of Your Love"
she nibbled her way along the length of my tool `til the head touched
the back of her throat. She lashed her tongue around and moved her
head back and forth while tickling my balls and asshole faster and
faster.

	I held her head lightly with my hands, but she was in control.
My heart was beating faster than I could ever remember it, from the
excitement of her young mouth swallowing my schlong and the dim fear
of somebody coming along right then and busting my ass. I started to
get closer to coming and felt those little flashes of intense pleasure
that spark just before orgasm. She could feel my prick stiffen, so she
backed off a little, then nipped the glans lightly with her teeth. The
approaching orgasm vanished, but I was a rigid as ever.

	She grinned and look up at me proudly. "It works, just like
Suzy said it would - you didn't come yet. I want you to come in my
pussy, OK?"

	I couldn't argue with her, although I really wondered if I
would end up in jail or the cardiac unit. She was lovely. Out of her
loose-fitting clothes her statuesque body was awesome. As she tossed
her sweatshirt on the floor her tits bounced free - twin handfuls of
taut upthrust flesh, topped by pink nubbins surrounded by enormous
areoles, sensitive as could be, I could tell, as I rubbed and squeezed
them to her delighted groans.

	Her snatch was beautiful too, just as sweet as could be -
scanty blond pubic hair framing a moist cleft, already juicy with her
clit prominent and throbbing, fully erect and out from its hood,
looking for love, a real elephant yoni, like the Kama Sutra says. My
eyes feasted on her slim body just beginning to blossom, and she was
writhing as I fondled and stroked every inch of her, mumbling idiotic
things about her luscious bod.

	She hopped backwards up onto the work table and beckoned me to
get on her. First I plunged my face into her crotch. I wanted to suck
that ruby red clit before I struck gold in the mother lode.

	I was on my knees at just the right height and I pulled her by
the hips into my open mouth and began to lave her labia and clit,
rolling her tender folds in my mouth. I spread her lips with my
fingers and licked up and down her slit, then fastened on her swollen
clit, gently kissing it, tonguing it slow and then faster with my
tongue-tip, then licking it with the length of my tongue as fast as I
could lap it up, then probing her tight cunt- hole as far as I could
stick it in, sucking on all her cunt as hard as I could.

	She was delicious, tasted like some hors d'oeuvre I'd had once
in Paris but couldn't remember the name of. Maybe they can duplicate
the taste of fresh cunt. Probably. I was out of my mind with lust, I
was saying things in French for my eager student on the table who was
panting and moaning "suck me, French me, eat me, mmmmmm, lick it
there, yes, there again, oh yes, slower now, yes, yes," and on and on.

	She was writhing in apparent ecstasy and coming copiously, her
juices flowing abundantly, dripping from my nose, mouth, and chin. I
was in heaven and expected to die any second. My skin was flushed all
over and I felt as if I'd been zapped with 220 volts right through my
prick. My erection was the hardest I'd ever felt - a real diamond-
cutter dick.

	"Now, come one, fuck me, dick me, stick it in me," Lisa kept
saying as I clambered up on the table - surely the hardest surface I'd
ever had so much fun on. The books had been kicked onto the floor long
ago and there were papers strewn about, some stick under her and to
parts of our sweating bodies. The perfect end to an hour of tutoring
in French, I thought, as I slid my turgid member into her sweetly
lubricated love tunnel.

	Her tight cunt was like a glove made to measure, gripping me
tighter than hand or mouth. She must have been practicing her Kegels,
I thought abstractedly, as she clenched me and milked me with her
vaginal muscles.

	"God, your cunt is a miracle, a monster, you've got a
million-dollar masher there, Lisa," I was saying as she enveloped me
with a convulsive strength unlike any gash I've ever delved.

	Her skill was an inborn talent, I guess. She told me I was the
first to fuck her, though she'd let the captain of the football team
finger for a mini mercy fuck - he broke his leg in the last game of
the season. She said she'd been practicing everything she could to
become a masterful lover. She had quizzed her girlfriends and ALL the
details of sex and was putting all her helpful hints to work, on me.
She was certainly s student to make anyone proud!

	I was gasping in agonizing anticipation now, and I hadn't even
been thrusting much myself. Her hips were bucking so fast and her grip
so powerful that I felt her sucker-cunt was like a leech on my
throbbing organ, squeezing tighter and tighter with every hump it
seemed. I could barely meet her actions, I was so dizzy and whacked
out. She came again and again as my pecker bumped against her clit.

	"Oh, I love it, I just love fucking, I love your petit ami,
isn't that what they call it in French?, oh oui oui oui, I want you to
fuck me forever, will you?, just don't stop, I'll help you last, don't
worry, I can make you last for hours," Lisa babbled in a stream-of-
consciousness torrent of words whenever our mouths disengaged. She was
stroking my back and arms, neck and ears, adding to the tingling
shivers that caromed throughout my body, distracting the awareness
that had been focussed only on my inflamed penis. I was afraid she
COULD make me last for hours. I just didn't know if I could survive
her.

	I felt spent already and hadn't even come once yet. Her
exertions had sapped me to nearly the last millimeter of any stamina I
had left. I gasped that I would surely love to stay inside her forever
but that we would have to go home pretty soon, it was getting late.
She answered my ill-advised reminder with a quick sideways movement
that wrenched my dong painfully, erasing the approaching orgasm yet
again.

	"Don't misunderstand, I wasn't being nasty, I just didn't want
you to come yet," she explained as she began a long, tortuously slow
thrust of her hips upward, raising us both off the table, bringing my
penis deep into her, touching her cervix, I was sure, and she held me
there against her womb as long as she could, then backed off, and
squeezing my pong with excruciating control, she kept me in her as I
almost pulled out, but she clasped my cockhead and held me in her with
her amazing muscles.

	I had no more mind to think with, I was all prick, living in a
world of all cunt. I vibrated to the beat of her pussy, the warm walls
of her insides surrounded me entirely, I was defined by her sex. She
mumbled some ungrammatical phrases in French about my strength and my
speed and my power, but it was all her doing. She had prepared for
this fuck so well that I was just the accompanist to the virtuoso's
main event. I appreciated the praise, but since i could scarcely
think, barely breathe, hardly move of my own volition, I was wondering
how I would be able to walk on my own feet when she was finished with
me - if ever she was.

	My mind reeled as my body strained to keep up with her, or
just to hold on. Good thing she hadn't turned herself loose on her
classmates, there would be no males left to many any of the athletic
teams. She could truly fuck their brains out. They'd perish under the
demands of the insatiable Cuntess. Meanwhile, how was I, the poor
Count of Mont Cunto going to escape certain death that awaited me in
the unfathomable regions of Cuntwataland...

	My dong was stiffer than I had ever dreamed of. Lisa sure did
now how to get the most out a man's tool. I felt my heart pounding
with tachycardia as my body anticipated the release of the long-south
orgasm that this Mariannas Trench of a wench was so skillfully
postponing. I had given up trying to think or say anything that made
sense, in any language - my brain was soup.

	She was upping the tempo now and I was along for the ride. I
could feel her shifting of gears transmitted directly through her
marvelously forthright tunnel of love, and I was getting wound tighter
and tighter, even as I thought I could get no more cranked up.

	She started to scratch my back as she attained second gear
speed, sending more shudders down my spine and back up into my brain
pan. I started to bleat strange syllables mindlessly as I felt the
looming mass of final release start to build in my testicles. Lisa's
arms must have been longer than I knew, or else she had Plastic Man's
superpowers. She reached down and slipped a finger into my asshole,
raising my temperature another five degrees.

	I wasn't putting anything into the humping now, I was pure
putty in her hands. She tickled my prostate adroitly and I felt my
tumid tool sprout another few centimeters of engorged length, every
cell bloated beyond capacity. I was sure I could feel her cervix
cupping my prick tip now with every rock and roll of her hips, or
perhaps I hallucinated it. The pressure inside me was unbearable, I
felt as if I were bursting from over-inflation. My body was beet red
all over. She was pretty in pink herself. Her tits looked like
everyman's dream boobies, perfect heaving swells, firm golden mounds
topped with berry-red nipples, circled by glowing areoles.

	I flashed on the LSD-like condition I was in, to be able to
note clearly any detail at all while I was losing sanity in every
other respect. I imagined what a prick's eye view from inside her
might be like. She was bumping me along at a rapid clip now, and I
felt like a tom-tom drum head. She wiggled her finger in my ass and
sent shock waves zinging through me. She was sucking my neck, my ears,
anywhere her mouth fell on me there was wet suction, a counterpoint to
the cosmic suction pump between her legs that was devouring me.

	I began to worry about my heart, it felt a-rhythmic. But I
figured this was the best way to die, in a brain-fusing orgasmic
infarct. She began to shudder now in violent waves, probably coming
with every thrust, a true fucking machine, or angel. I was squealing
like a stuck pig, insensible and incoherent. I felt my climax starting
in the nether regions of toes or my nose, I don't really know where. I
was like a six-foot prick scheduled to explode. My head throbbed in
syncopation to the surges that echoed from my hips to my prick's
immersion in her cauldron.

	The onset of an orgasm had never taken so long. I could follow
it all unfolding, not in mere microseconds, but in drawn- out steps, a
like symphonic movement charted for me to sight read. The bubbling
frenzy of uncontrollable fever pitch excitement began to burn at the
back of my throat, my balls tightened, I could feel my merkins singed,
my vision blurred as if I were surrounded by smoke. I couldn't even
moan but was emitting guttural snorts and slobbering grunts. I clawed
at her flesh like a possessed spastic. She too was keening a high-
pitched but soft, penetrating howl, a banshee's chant, that punctured
my brain from another level altogether. I felt plugged into her
orgasms, as she fluttered from one to the next, each one building in
power and getting longer and stronger in a pyramidal contrapuntal
wind-up to some intergalactic implosion.

	My bones actually felt disconnected, and I feared for
permanent damage to my skeleton, as ground waves or oscillations would
commence that shook and flapped my limbs, like a body dropped into a
wind tunnel. Finally the climax of my life, or maybe my death,began to
climb toward completion in a free fall toward Arcturus or the Crab
Nebula. I was shooting through a white hole, squeezing a black hole
from a supernova dwarf star, the end result of all creation's
elaborate plot to get me to this point in time and space, self-
immolation for the greater glorification of God or Dog or...

	A white-hot ingot into ashes into a phoenix straight up and
it's all over in milliseconds, stretched out over light years of
internal paralysis. My overworked penis shot slow killing gobs of
fiery molten lifeblood into Lisa's labyrinth, each contraction of my
body's dying dance the last act of a man condemned to come in orgasmic
agony for all time...

	And as I wondered what could save me, Lisa's finger popped
deeper in and then violently out of my anus, hooking my punished
prostate for one last push of the button, and I bucked savagely into
her for one the last thrust I would ever be able to deliver to another
living being. My brain was liquefied, funneled into her ovaries, her
womb sucked at my head by remote control, I plunged into darkness,
into flaccid limpness, I quivered, wobbling, pitiful, she clamped me
on and in her legs-and-arms embrace, Venus's very own half-shell
clutching me to her temple.