Tutored in Temptation
Copyright© 2025 by Harry_Flashman
Chapter 1
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - An English teacher falls for her Black student.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction School Workplace Cheating Interracial Black Male White Female Petting Safe Sex Slow
The alarm clock on the wooden bedside table buzzed softly precisely at 6:00 AM, filling the quiet, elegantly decorated master bedroom with its insistent tone and waking the figure slumbering peacefully on the large king-sized bed. Emily Lancaster stirred beneath the duvet and crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets, slowly opening her dark-blue eyes to the dim early morning light filtering through the heavy curtains drawn across the windows. ‘Uhhh ... feels like I just went to bed...’ she thought tiredly.
With a reluctant little sigh, Emily reached over to silence the alarm, feeling the coolness of the surface of the wooden bedside beneath her pale fingertips. The room, and indeed the whole house, was still peaceful, still wrapped in the soft pastel hues of an early-autumn dawn that were reflected in through the ornate wood-framed windows, but the day ahead was already beginning to take shape in her rapidly waking mind. ‘Mondays ... that means Year 11 first up...’
Turning her head, Emily saw that Jonathan’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets undisturbed by his body. ‘I didn’t even hear him leave,’ she thought ruefully to herself, a touch of regret and disappointment filling her heart whenever she’d missed him in the mornings. He had left early again, catching the first train to London for another day of meetings and appointments.
It had been like this for months now, the best part of a year since his promotion to partner – his career in London as a successful corporate lawyer demanding more and more of his time, leaving her to manage their lives in Surrey almost entirely on her own. ‘If he wasn’t in meetings, he was just as likely to be away travelling overseas,’ she thought to herself.
Jonathan had often said his burden of work was the price for the financial comfort and stability their family enjoyed, as if somehow devaluing her contribution as a teacher, she often thought to herself with a touch of resentment. Nonetheless, Emily understood the comfortable and enjoyable life they led; the large, two-storey detached house in an upmarket suburb of Guildford, their two expensive luxury cars, the regular overseas holidays, the cottage in the country ... all of it depended very much on the substantial partner distributions and bonuses that Jonathan earned.
In comparison, her salary, although considerable, could never give them both their current lifestyle and financial stability they wanted for their daughter in the future. Emily sighed again, a mix of resignation and acceptance of the situation, as she pushed herself up from the bed.
Slipping out from under the covers, Emily stretched, feeling the slight pull in her muscles as she did so. ‘I really should do some exercise this morning,’ she thought to herself. She had planned to catch up on some papers she needed to mark before she woke her daughter and got ready for the day but decided that she needed a run instead. ‘Looks like I’ll just have to do them tonight... ‘
The expensive hardwood floors were cold beneath her bare feet, but she moved with the ease of someone who was accustomed to activity in the early hours of the morning, especially with their daughter being such a light sleeper as a baby. Fortunately, she’d always been an early riser, just like Jonathon, although she was finding that lately she often slept through him waking and leaving early for the office.
‘What time must he have gotten up this morning?’ she thought to herself. ‘5 o’clock? Earlier?’
She padded quietly into the ensuite bathroom, flipping on the light to reveal a neat, well-organised space, kept clean, like the rest of the house, by regular visits from their housekeeper. The marble countertop gleamed under the bright, fluorescent light, their toiletries arranged precisely: a silver toothbrush holder with their two toothbrushes and tube of toothpaste, a small jar of moisturiser, and a simple glass dish that held her monthly strip of Yasmin birth control pills.
Making her way to the toilet, Emily slipped her knickers and pyjama bottoms down around her ankles and sat on the seat, relieving herself as her mind continued to start to organise her day ahead. After finishing, she cleaned herself, stood up and pulled her clothing back into place before flushing the toilet. Moving to the sink, she turned on the tap to wash her hands, her morning routine as predictable as clockwork.
Standing there, Emily caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror – an attractive woman of 35, with soft chestnut hair that framed her face and blue eyes that, despite the early hour, were sharp and clear. Her skin was soft and pale, with a slight flush in her cheeks, and she noticed the faintest hint of dark circles beneath her eyes. She frowned slightly before splashing some cold water on her face. ‘More sleep, more water, less coffee... ‘ she thought to herself.
As the water cooled her skin, Emily continued to think about the day ahead. As always, a full schedule of paperwork, classes, meetings with other teachers and parents, and after-school activities awaited her at Prestwood School. The prestigious private school was more than just her workplace; it was her sanctuary, a place where she was equally respected, admired, and sought after as Mrs Lancaster, the Deputy Head of English.
Yet, as much as she loved her challenging and rewarding role there as the Deputy Head of English, a role she had now held for two years, she couldn’t ignore the growing emptiness that had seemed to follow her everywhere over the past several months — an emptiness that no amount of effort at work or attention to her daughter, Sophie, could ever quite fill. ‘I didn’t plan on marrying my job... ‘
With a soft, involuntary sigh, Emily reached for the small glass dish and retrieved her strip of birth control pills, pressing today’s pill free from the pack and popping it into her mouth before chasing it down with a sip of water. The routine was second nature by now, a small, but significant and necessary, part of her daily life.
She had initially gone onto the pill when she was at university – for her first few months of their sexual encounters, she and her first boyfriend had relied on condoms to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. At his urging, Emily had gone to her doctor for a prescription, being somewhat lukewarm to the whole idea.
However, after their first encounter without the customary latex barrier between them, she was transformed. Emily had at once enjoyed the increased pleasure and sensitivity of a bare penis inside her and she had become addicted to the deliciously intimate feeling of her boyfriend ejaculating inside her, sharing his seed and connecting with her in the most personal way possible.
As she swallowed, feeling the pill travel down her throat with the mouthful of water, Emily’s mind momentarily drifted back over seventeen years to when she first started taking her birth control pill in university.
Emily lay back on her bed in her small university dorm room, her heart beating wildly in anticipation as she looked up at her boyfriend, Mark. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on her bedside table, creating an intimate environment for the two of them. Posters of classic literature and framed photos of her family decorated the walls, making her room feel more like home for her.
The two had been together for nearly four months now, having first met in a shared British Literature class a few weeks after starting university. Their relationship had grown from shy glances across the library to stolen kisses in the quiet corners of campus, like the secluded bench near the old oak tree where they first confessed their feelings for each other. They had slept together for the first time two months into their relationship, Mark being her first lover. Mark had been patient with her but had wanted to take the relationship to the next level, something that it had taken her time to come to terms with.
Earlier the week before, after a long conversation in the cozy campus café and some urging by Mark, Emily had decided to go on the pill. They had spent hours discussing their relationship and the next steps over cups of coffee, and it had been Mark’s suggestion, proposed after one of their more intense make-out sessions had been interrupted by the awkward scramble for a condom.
They had been in his car, parked under the stars after a late-night study session, and the sudden need to stop and find protection had broken the moment, leaving them both frustrated and yearning for something more. Emily had always been cautious, the product of her conservative upbringing, the thought of an unplanned pregnancy constantly on the back of her mind. But Mark had reassured her, and after some thought, she had made the decision, trusting him and their relationship.
Now, as she lay beneath him, she felt the weight of that decision. Mark’s hand gently stroked her hair, his fingers threading through the soft brown strands that framed her face. His green eyes searching her blue ones for any sign of hesitation. Emily felt a flutter of nerves but also a thrill of anticipation. This was new territory for her, a step closer in their intimacy, and she was both nervous and excited to take it with him.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked softly, his voice filled with concern. His green eyes, usually so full of mischief, were serious now, focused entirely on her. “Do you want to keep going?”
Emily nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m okay. And yes, I want to keep going. I want this, Mark.”
He smiled back, his dimpled grin easing her nerves as his thumb gently brushed her pale cheek. His hand moved to caress her cheek before lowering himself down to kiss her tenderly. His lips were soft against hers, the kiss slow and gentle, as if he was savouring every second with her.
The warmth of his body against hers was comforting, and when he positioned himself between her legs, Emily felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. The reality of what they were about to do settled in, and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she spread her legs slightly, giving him access to her vaginal entrance. This would be the first time they would make love without the barrier of a condom, and the thought sent a thrill through her. She was about to experience something she had only ever imagined.
Mark paused, looking at her once more. “If you’re not ready, we can wait.” His voice was soft, but there was a hint of tension in it, like he was holding back for her sake.
Emily shook her head, her voice soft but firm. “No, it’s ok. I’m ready. I trust you.”
With that, Mark slowly began to enter her. She felt the head of his penis press gently against her entrance, nudging against her soft, wet folds. Emily felt the head of his penis, warm and bare, press against her labial lips, and she gasped at the sensation. It was more intense than she had expected, the bare skin of his tip rubbing against her in a way that sent shivers down her spine. It was different – more intimate, more intense. She could feel the texture of his skin, the heat emanating from his flesh, the way his tip caught slightly before he eased himself slowly inside her.
There was a brief moment of resistance, a slight stretch as her body adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation. There was nothing between them now, just skin on skin, and the sensation was almost overwhelming. She could feel every ridge and vein as he slowly pushed forward, her body opening up to him, the sensation raw and electric. As he slowly pushed forward, she felt herself stretch to accommodate him, her body adjusting to this new and pleasurable feeling.
For a moment, a flicker of fear crossed her mind – what if the pill didn’t work? What if this decision led to consequences she wasn’t ready for? But as Mark’s hips pressed against hers, the heat of him filling her, she pushed those thoughts aside. The warmth of him inside her was unlike anything she had experienced before. It was as if his body was made to fit hers, every inch of him sliding against her with a perfect, natural rhythm. It was raw, real, and deeply personal.
‘Oh, God ... that ... that feels so good... ‘ she thought wildly to herself. As he moved deeper, she could feel every inch of him, the way his shaft slid against her sensitive inner walls, the way her body responded to him in a way that it hadn’t before. The absence of the condom made every movement, every touch, feel more pronounced, more connected.
“Emily,” Mark murmured, his voice husky with emotion. “You feel amazing.” His breath was hot against her ear, his words sending a thrill of passion and arousal through her.
She smiled up at him, her heart full. “So do you,” she whispered back, her voice laced with affection. She could feel the sincerity in his words, the way his body trembled slightly above hers, a sign that he was just as affected by the moment as she was. ‘This feels so much better than before... ‘ she thought through an increasingly relaxed and pleasant haze that was filling her body.
As he began to move, Emily felt her earlier fears and worries melt away, replaced by the pure sensation of being with him in this way. His thrusts were slow and deliberate at first, testing the waters, but as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, their rhythm grew more urgent, more insistent. The rhythm they found together was slow, deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through her that she hadn’t known were possible. ‘I can’t believe how good this feels ... it’s so different ... so ... perfect... ‘ she thought excitedly to herself, giving in to the moment.
The intimacy of the moment, the closeness they shared, made everything feel heightened, more intense. She could feel his muscles tensing with each movement, his breath growing ragged as they moved together, their bodies finding a rhythm that was both new and perfectly synchronised. ‘Yes ... harder ... oh, God ... I want to feel him so deep inside me... ‘
When Mark finally reached his climax, Emily felt it in a way she never had before. She felt him tense, his movements becoming erratic as he neared the edge. The first spurt of his release was warm and immediate, filling her in a way that made her gasp, her blue eyes open wide with surprise and pleasure. ‘Ohhh ... wow ... oh, my God ... yes!’ she thought excitedly to herself.
The sensation was intense, a pulsing warmth that spread through her with each subsequent spurt, each one bringing a new wave of pleasure, and she could feel the warmth of his seed spreading inside her, a sensation that was both foreign and exhilarating. It was as if he was giving a part of himself to her, something that was uniquely theirs to share.
As Mark slowly withdrew, Emily felt his warmth begin to seep out of her, another new and strangely satisfying sensation. The feeling was new and slightly uncomfortable, but also strangely intimate, a reminder of what they had just shared. She lay there for a moment, savouring the lingering warmth, the feeling of connection that still thrummed between them. It was as though they had crossed a threshold together, deepening their bond in a way that was both physical and emotional, in a way she had never expected.
When she and Mark had eventually parted ways, Emily remained on the pill throughout her subsequent relationships and through to her marriage to Jonathan, enjoying the intimate feeling of all of her partners finishing inside her. Finally, she stopped taking the pill when she and Jonathan decided to start trying for Sophie. Despite this, she had continued to enjoy the intimate feeling of Jonathan coming inside her, even throughout her pregnancy.
Despite her upper-middle class upbringing and generally reserved demeanour in public, this was the one aspect that Emily now craved the most when she had sex – the feeling of her partner filling her with their sperm, sharing the most personal essence of who they were with her in the most intimate of ways.
They had discussed having another child after Sophie was born and this had prompted Emily to go back onto the pill, rather than look for a more permanent form of birth control. However, life had become busier and busier and now, with Jonathan away so often, the possibility of even trying for a second child seemed increasingly remote.
Several times they had discussed the possibility of Jonathan having a vasectomy, but these conversations had come to naught, leaving Emily to rely on the necessary routine of taking her birth control pill. ‘Well, it would be necessary if Jonathan was ever here... ‘ she thought to herself as she returned to the present, a touch of bitterness and resentment creeping into the back of her mind.
It had been what seemed like forever since she and Jonathan had made love. Where they had actually made love; not just a quick, awkward fumble under the sheets followed by a quick dash to the bathroom to clean up, hoping that they hadn’t made any noise to awaken Sophie in her bedroom. Being honest with herself, after the dearth of lovemaking over the past several weeks due to Jonathan’s frequent absences, Emily acknowledged that even a quick fumble would be better than nothing right now.
Her routine complete, she placed the glass back down and, with a deep breath, straightened her posture, looking at herself in the mirror one last time before heading back into the bedroom, her mind still not fully at ease. The bedroom was still dimly lit as she made her way to the dresser where she kept her workout gear. ‘I’d better get changed and going... ‘ she thought, knowing she had a busy day ahead of her. The first couple of weeks at the start of term always was for the teaching staff.
Slipping out of her pyjamas, Emily quickly changed into her workout clothes — a pair of black leggings and a fitted tank top over a sports bra — and tied her chestnut-brown hair up into a simple ponytail. After she laced up her running shoes, she quietly made her way downstairs to the small home gym she had set up in the spare room on the ground floor at the other end of the house from Sophie’s bedroom.
Jonathan had his home office in the attic, she had her gym. It was a modest space, with just a treadmill, a set of dumbbells, and a yoga mat, but it was all she needed to keep herself in shape. When she wasn’t exercising at home, she made use of both the multitude of running tracks that criss-crossed the areas around Guildford, or the state-of-the-art fitness centre at the school.
As she started her usual routine on the treadmill, she let her mind drift, the rhythmic thudding of her feet against the belt lulling her into a meditative state. Ever since she had been a young girl, exercise had always been a way for her to clear her mind, to focus on herself even when everything else seemed to be spiralling out of control. It was one of the few things, along with occasional bouts of swimming and dance, that she did purely for herself, a way to keep a sense of control and self in her life. ‘Some me time... ‘ she thought as her mind drifted away.
She recalled how exercise had helped her maintain her focus on her studies over the years, initially when she attended St. Mary’s School in her hometown of Cambridge for her secondary education, and then when she’d gone on to university, firstly attending Oxford University to read English and then to King’s College in London to gain her Post Graduate Certificate in Secondary Education with a focus on English Literature. When she followed this up several years later with her part-time Master of Arts in English, again from King’s College, she found the regular exercise an important part of maintaining balance between her work life and studies.
As the treadmill picked up speed, she increased her pace, pushing herself to the edge of her endurance, her mind going blank with exertion. For an instant, just an instant, all the worries and concerns in her life vanished as she focused on the moment, just one foot after another.
Forty-five minutes later, Emily finished her workout, her body glistening with sweat as the treadmill gradually slowed to a halt. Taking a long draught of water from her water bottle, she wiped her face with a towel, feeling the familiar burn in her muscles, a heady and enjoyable mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. After catching her breath, she gingerly headed back upstairs to wake Sophie and start the process of getting her ready for the day ahead. ‘I hope she slept well... ‘
Sophie’s room was just down the hall from the master bedroom, its heavy wooden door slightly ajar. Emily silently made her way towards her daughter’s bedroom, past framed family photos hanging neatly along the corridor; Emily and Jonathan standing on the observation platform of the Eiffel Tower, a picture of their pair of them with friends on holiday to the Greek islands, their wedding photo with Emily looking radiant in her ivory silk wedding dress with Jonathan standing next to her beaming in his morning suit.
Further down the hall were pictures of Sophie as a baby and little girl; in her cot at the hospital, her first steps, her visiting a farm and holding a duck. Emily couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the last one. ‘I wonder if Sophie remembers the duck chasing her all around the yard after that photo was taken... ‘ she idly thought to herself as she passed the photo.
Reaching the door to her daughter’s bedroom, Emily pushed it open quietly and smiled at the sight of her daughter still curled up in bed, the dim glow from nightlight on the dresser highlighting Sophie’s chestnut curls spread out across the pillow, mirroring Emily’s own. Sophie was six, a bundle of energy and curiosity, but in sleep, she was the picture of innocence and peace. ‘I wish I could sleep like that... ‘ Emily thought wistfully to herself.
“Time to wake up, sweetheart,” Emily whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently brushing a strand of dark hair from Sophie’s forehead. Sophie stirred, her blue eyes fluttering open as she slowly awoke. “Morning, Mummy,” she mumbled sleepily, reaching out to hug her mother.
“Morning, my love,” Emily replied, holding her daughter close and kissing the top of her head, taking in the sweet scent of her hair. These quiet moments with Sophie were her solace, the anchor that kept her grounded when the rest of her life felt so adrift due to Jonathon’s increasingly frequent absences. “Did you sleep well?” she asked with a little smile.
“Mhm,” Sophie nodded, still clinging to her mother as she slowly woke up. “Is Daddy home?”
Emily’s heart twinged slightly at her daughter’s question. “No, darling. He had to leave early for work. But he’ll be back tonight, okay?” The question and response were becoming increasingly frequent.
“Okay,” Sophie replied, a little disappointment in her voice but quickly distracted by the thought of breakfast. “Can we have pancakes for breakfast?”
Emily smiled, it was the least she could do to make up for Jonathan’s absence. “Of course. Let’s get you dressed, and then we can make some together.”
She helped Sophie out of bed, guiding her through her morning routine with a practiced efficiency. By the time Sophie was dressed in her school uniform for Prestwood School – a neat grey pleated skirt, white blouse, grey cardigan and knee-high navy socks – she was fully awake, chattering excitedly to her mother about the art project she was working on at school. Sophie had started at the School in Reception two years earlier and was thriving in the school’s nurturing and supportive academic environment.
Emily listened to her daughter’s explanation about the use of colours in her project, smiling and nodding as she led Sophie downstairs to the kitchen. The room was warm and welcoming, with the soft morning light spilling in through the large windows that overlooked the large, green garden that was well-maintained compliments of regular visits by their gardener.
The kitchen, more than any other room, was the heart of their home, with its pale blue cabinets, white marble countertops, and the subtle scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the coffee machine that Emily had set to brew automatically before she went to bed last night.
Sophie sat at the kitchen table, happily drawing away with her coloured pencils as Emily poured her some fruit juice. This task complete, Emily moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, gathering the ingredients for pancakes for her daughter’s breakfast. She poured flour into a mixing bowl, added eggs and milk, and began whisking the batter. Sophie watched intently, her legs swinging beneath the counter.
“Can I help, Mummy?” Sophie asked, her sparkling blue eyes bright with enthusiasm. Sophie loved to cook for her dolls and had recently started to do the real thing in the kitchen under Emily’s direction.
“Of course,” Emily replied with a little smile. Sophie scrambled to her feet and made her way next to her mother and Emily handed her the whisk. “Stir it gently, like this,” she said, guiding her daughter’s hand with a gentle touch.
Sophie giggled, her small hands gripping the whisk tightly as she mimicked her mother’s movements. Emily watched her with a little smile, feeling a warm sense of contentment in her heart. These moments with Sophie were precious for her, and she cherished them, especially when the house felt so empty without Jonathan’s presence.
Once the pancakes were sizzling on the griddle pan, Emily poured herself a cup of coffee, inhaling the rich aroma, and took a moment to check her phone. There was a text from Jonathan, sent at 5:30am.
Had to leave early. Meeting at 8. Will try to be home by 7. Hope you and Sophie have a good day. Love you.
Emily stared at the message for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen. She knew Jonathan was doing his best, balancing the demands of his high-pressure career with his responsibilities at home, but it didn’t make the growing distance between them any easier to bear. ‘Will it ever get better?’ she thought to herself, a touch of depression in the back of her mind. ‘Does he even realise what’s happening?’
She typed a quick response: Love you too. See you tonight. Then she put the phone down and turned her attention back to Sophie, who was eagerly waiting for the first pancake.
Within a few minutes, the pancakes were ready, and Emily flipped them onto a plate and topped them with some jam, sliced fruit and a small dollop of fresh cream. After she placed them in front of Sophie, she made a quick breakfast of yoghurt, fruit and juice for herself. ‘I promise I’ll only have one of these this morning... ‘ she thought as she finished her coffee.
Once her dirty dishes were stacked in the sink ready for their housekeeper, Emily glanced at the clock on the wall: 7:15am. She needed to start getting ready if they were to leave by 8:00am. She looked over at Sophie who was picking at the remnants of the pancakes on her plate. “Honey, I need to take a shower and get dressed. Once you’re finished, you may continue to work on your art project. Let’s avoid the television now, alright?” she told her daughter. When she saw her daughter’s face frown, she raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. “Sophie, I allowed you an additional fifteen minutes last night...” she reminded her daughter.
“Ok, Mummy...” Sophie said, clearly still not happy that she wasn’t going to be able to watch anything before school. Emily let out a little sigh before making her way upstairs to her room to get herself ready for the day ahead.
The bathroom was filled with steam as Emily stepped out of the shower, her skin pink and warm from the hot water. ‘I’ve got to get that fan looked at... ‘ she thought to herself. She quickly dried herself off with a fluffy towel before moving to the counter to first brush her teeth before she finished with her skincare routine and applied her makeup.
As she brushed her teeth, Emily paused for a moment, the fresh, minty taste of toothpaste filling her mouth, and critically regarded her reflection in the large, well-lit mirror in front of her. She was in her mid-thirties now, with the faintest of lines beginning to show at the corner of her eyes, but she had always taken care of herself, and it showed.
Standing a graceful 5’7” in her bare feet, she had a figure that many envied, though more often she thought of it more self-consciously. With a weight that fortunately hovered around 120lbs, she was blessed with a slim body with a well-defined figure – 34 inches around her bust, 25 inches around her waist and 36 inches around her hips. She had been slimmer before giving birth to Sophie but now thought that the few extra inches suited her more as she had matured, giving her a curvaceous figure.
Her skin was a soft, creamy complexion that had a healthy glow and was smooth and well-maintained, despite her long hours at work and demands of motherhood. She could still recall the days when Sophie was a baby – the interminable late-night feedings, the long, sleepless nights holding her daughter’s hand as she drifted off the sleep, the washing and cleaning – all were etched deeply into her memory.