The Tutor
Copyright© 2003 by Dorsai
Chapter 3
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Young James grew up next to Maureen, who got widowed. As James was turning into a man, Maureen was there to guide him in some important ways.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Anal Sex Oral Sex
The next time I saw Maureen, I told her what I’d been reading, delighting her. When she started asking me about Animal Farm, I could see from the expression on her face that she was pleased that I had finally begun to understand it. When we were done, she told me, “James, I’m proud of you. I thought that if I could get you to start reading for fun, it would do you some good - and it worked. You’ve done more for yourself in the last week and a half than I think you really realize just yet. I knew that you weren’t stupid; nobody can get the grades you do if they were. All you really needed was to broaden your horizons; and in that, you’ve done admirably. Now all you need to do is keep expanding your knowledge, and there’s nothing that can stop you; there’s a whole world out there, and all of it is available to you in books.”
Hearing that she was actually proud of me not only made me feel pleased and proud of myself, but it also gave me all the motivation I needed to want to learn even more; her comment about how the world was available to me through books made me decide that I had to read about anything I didn’t understand. It was slow going, at first - my reading skills and vocabulary were pushed to the limit. But the more I read, the more I learned, and the more I could read. The process fed on itself, and it wasn’t long before I was a very proficient reader, and had at least a passing interest in almost everything.
But I still had enough sense to not let on that I was learning as much as I was from all the reading I was doing: I knew that if anyone knew that I was learning as much as I was without Maureen’s direct help, there wouldn’t be any reason for me to go over there to be ‘tutored’. Maureen looked inordinately pleased when I told her what I was doing, and why. So I continued to go over to Maureen’s on Tuesday nights for ‘tutoring’ - but the education I got had nothing to do with the assignments I got in school. They did, however, pay tremendous dividends with the girls from school that I went out with - I found out later that word quickly spread among the girls that if a girl was willing, I made a much better lover than any of the other guys in school. Of course, it wasn’t like that with every girl I took out; some of them simply wanted to go out and have fun doing stuff like bowling, watching a movie, and so on - but with the ones that were willing to go farther, I left them thoroughly satisfied.
By the time the end of the semester came around, I’d managed to bring my Literature grade up to an acceptable C+; Mom and Dad both told me they were proud of me, but it was Maureen’s comment to the same effect that meant the most to me.
When school started the next semester, I opted to take the next section of the Literature class - Maureen was still agreeable (when speaking to my parents; with me, she was delighted) to ‘tutoring’ me on a reduced schedule. Maureen knew, of course, that I was doing a LOT better with the girls that I went out with, and she surprised me by how readily she accepted the time I spent with them and not her. The most significant change in my relationship with Maureen was that the times we were together were even more ‘intense’ I guess you could say. Over the course of the semester, Maureen taught me a lot more about sex, and even making love - different positions, stamina (!), how to put off a climax so as to make it even stronger when it happened, and so on.
As the days and weeks went by, I gradually came to realize that what I felt for Maureen had changed. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her; if anything, she meant even more to me. The change was that I was coming to understand that what I really felt toward her was honest, genuine love - as opposed to the combination of infatuation and lust that I’d started with. During our ‘lessons’, I was becoming more and more concerned about making her feel good not just during our intimate encounters, but the rest of the time as well. I’m sure she was aware of it, but didn’t say anything.
It was just a few weeks shy of the end of the school year when I learned that the relationship between us was going to end. We’d finished making love one Tuesday evening and were lying on her bed cuddling when she turned her head to look at me closely before saying “James, there’s something that I have to tell you.”
Something about the tone of her voice put me on notice, and I cautiously asked “What’s that?”
“I heard from Matt’s school yesterday, and they had something to tell me.”
“Is he doing okay? Is there anything I can do?” I asked.
She gave me a wan smile and said, “Yes, he’s fine; and no, there’s nothing you can do. What they told me was that all the students in his class had been through some kind of testing, and they’d gotten the results back. It turns out that Matt did better on the tests than anyone else in the class.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is - for him. But not for us, James.”
“Why?”
“Because they explained to me that it had been a battery of some kind of intelligence tests; and Matt did so much better on them because his IQ is something close to the genius level.”
She could see from the expression on my face that I needed some more explanation and went on to tell me, “What they called to say was that Matt was so much smarter than the other kids in his class that they think he should be attending a special school - one that’s geared more for intellectually gifted kids like him. I went to talk to them today, and they explained the whole thing to me - that if he stayed in a regular school, he was likely to start getting bored and actually get worse grades than the other kids. And that unless something was done to keep his mind occupied, he’s likely to start acting up when he gets older. They went through a whole list of things that could happen if he isn’t given the chance to develop the intelligence they tell me he has. Like I said, they told me that he was actually near the genius level - and even more, they said that they were most likely to be underestimating his IQ. The problem is that the nearest school for kids like him is over a hundred miles away - and he’s too young to send him there by himself. What I’m telling you, James, is that I’m going to have to sell this house and move so that Matt can go to a school that will let him develop his mind to the fullest.”
I understood then, of course, and felt as though there were a large chunk of ice in my heart and a lump in my stomach.
“Does Matt know?” I asked, to give myself a little time to consider what she’d just told me.
“Yes, a little bit. He already knows that he’s the smartest one in his class; he just doesn’t know how much smarter he is.”
“Have you told him about the school, and that you’ll have to move?”
“A little. I mean, I brought up the school, and he seemed interested in it; I haven’t said anything about moving yet - I wanted to tell you first.”
I realized, then, that the affection I felt for Maureen was reciprocal. And I knew that even though it was going to hurt me, I had to give her my full support so as to make it as easy for her as possible. As for Matt, I’d always kind of thought of him as my adopted little brother, so the idea of getting him into a school where the rate of teaching matched his ability to learn was, pardon the phrase, a no-brainer.
Somehow, I managed to smile before I told her “And now you’ve told me. Maureen, I understand that the other school is best for Matt, and I’m all for it. I’m sorry you’re going to have to move; not just because of what we have like this” —gesturing to our nakedness— “but because I ... well, I love you. This is something that’s going to make a world of difference for Matt, and let him grow up to be as much as he can be, so it’s the right thing to do.”
I saw her smile - and saw her tears, too - before she rolled over to take me in her arms and hug me as she murmured “Thank you, James. I was so afraid that you wouldn’t understand, and now I can see that I was wrong. This still isn’t going to be easy for me, but you’re making it easier.”
I put my arms around her and held her close, softly stroking her back as I resolved not to add to her burden by letting her know how much I would miss her.
After a bit, she pulled herself together and finished rolling over so that she was straddling my hips and lying on top of me. Supporting herself with her arms, she started telling me about all the counselors at Matt’s school had said about him, and what they’d told her about the school - such as how it was structured so that the students were ‘self-paced’, meaning that they were pretty much free to learn as much and as fast as they could, but still required them to learn a variety of subjects so that they weren’t geniuses in one area and idiots in everything else.
Throughout, I nodded my head and made appreciative noises at her while my heart and mind tried to find some way of dealing with the loss of her.
Finally, she glanced over at the clock and declared that it was getting late - followed by telling me that she thought there was enough time for us to grab a quick shower together before I had to leave. We got up and went into the bathroom, and the shower was quick - well, quick for US, anyway. With both of us dressed, she accompanied me to the front door and the two of us shared a kiss and quick fondle before I went back home.
It was a couple of days later that Maureen had the chance to tell Mom and Dad what she’d been told about Matt; both of them congratulated her, and told her that they’d miss her, but understood that getting Matt into the school was her first priority.
Maureen and I continued our ‘tutoring’ sessions right up to the last week of school. I’d used the few days between her announcement to me and our next session to kind of pull myself together; I never let on to her that I was anything less than fully supportive of her decision to move so Matt could go to the ‘gifted’ school.
Once school let out for me, things quickly fell into the system that Maureen and I had put together the previous summer - with the only change being that my handyman work was geared toward getting and keeping her house as ‘presentable’ as possible: every room received a fresh coat of paint, we rented a machine and cleaned every carpet in every room, all the ‘I gotta fix that one of these days’ jobs got fixed, and so on.
It was either a perfect synchronization of pure chance, or the direct and personal intervention of a kind and beneficent God, that gave us the chance to give each other a proper farewell before she left: Matt’s Cub Scout pack decided to have a campout that started on the same Saturday that Mom and Dad had chosen to take off for a weekend alone - giving themselves a kind of mini-vacation just for themselves, leaving early on Saturday morning, and not getting back until late Sunday evening.
They’d been gone overnight before, of course, and I’d shown them that I was responsible enough to be left alone in the house; that I wasn’t going to throw any parties, burn the place down, or anything else. The only consideration they had was that I wouldn’t take the time to fix my own meals, and would opt to just go to fast-food places. Maureen, being a good neighbor, offered to fix supper for me that Saturday night - explaining it as a kind of ‘payment’ for all I’d done to help her get the house ready to sell. It was a plausible enough reason to Mom and Dad, and they accepted on my behalf.
The appointed day came, and Matt was eagerly looking forward to his first real campout “with cooking over a fire and everything”. His Cub Scout pack leader showed up with a vanload of young troopers, got Matt loaded, and was gone by 9:00 that morning. Mom and Dad had their stuff in the car and were on their way no more than a half-hour later. I gave it a little while to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything (not likely, but possible) before I was off to like a shot to Maureen’s. I barely had time to knock on the door before she had it open, and I was inside seconds later.
Over the course of the next twenty-four hours, I couldn’t have been dressed more than fifteen minutes - and that only because Maureen and I kept molesting each other as we tried to get our clothes off. The rest of the time, Maureen and I were both stark naked, whether we were making love, resting between sessions of making love, or getting nourishment so we would have the energy to make love some more. I can’t begin to say how pleased and delighted I was to be able to wake up next to Maureen after a nap, or - heaven! - being with her for an entire night.
Between late morning on Saturday and lunchtime Sunday, Maureen and I somehow managed to get in a ‘refresher course’ of everything she’d shown me up to that time - repeated sessions of oral sex, mutual masturbation, sitting across from each other and watching each other as we masturbated ourselves, and more counts of lovemaking than I knew were possible. We had been lying on her bed next to each other for nearly half an hour after an episode of lovemaking that had lasted nearly an hour when she rolled over onto her side and draped an arm and leg across my body before nuzzling my neck and asking “James?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember that first time I used my mouth on you? In the shower, after you fucked me the first time?”
“I’ll never forget!”
She giggled before she went on “Do you also remember what I asked you? About it being the first time a girl did that to you?”
It took me a moment to remember so I could answer, “Yeah - you said that you had kind of gotten a ‘cherry’ from me.”
I could feel her smiling next to me, and listened as she told me, “Good. I got a ‘cherry’ from you, and before I have to leave, there’s a ‘cherry’ I want you to have from ME.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about - I thought we’d done about everything there was to do. When I didn’t say anything for several moments, I felt her lift her head to look up at me, and moved my head to look back at her. I could see the nervousness and trepidation in her eyes, but for the life of me, couldn’t decide what she was saying.
She seemed to realize the problem, and surprised the hell out of me when I saw her blush furiously before she said, “There’s still a part of me that no man has ever had - and I want to give it to you, James.”
Between her blush, and what she’d just said, I finally began to consider options other than the ones that had first occurred to me. I got to one that seemed, well, possible; but I still had trouble believing it, though. When I looked down at her again, she must have seen on my face that I’d hit on what she meant. With a lopsided grin, she confirmed my thoughts by saying, “Yes, James - my ass.”
I couldn’t help asking, “But ... why?”
She sobered at that, and answered, “Because even though you may not realize it, you’ve been a lot of help to me. Because of how patient and gentle you’ve been as a lover. Because even though we’ve been together like this, you have never said or done anything that seemed even the slightest bit possessive of me. Because of the way that you watched after Matt when I wasn’t around, and how you taught him how to be a normal little boy - yes, I know it was you that taught him to spit, and make those fart and other noises!”
She took a deep breath and went on, “Because you were always ready to do whatever you could to help me, no matter what it was or when I needed it. Because you trusted me with almost all of your secrets - yes, I know there were things that you kept even from me; but everyone has things they won’t tell anyone else. Because even though I have to leave here, you’re not doing or saying anything to make me feel bad about it. And most of all because I’ve come to love you, James, as much as I think you love me. I know that the love we have for each other isn’t something that we can let go of, even if I were to stay here - but that doesn’t mean that I love you, or you love me, any less.”
By the time she got to the end of that, she was crying - and I have to admit that I felt my own eyes start to tear up in sympathy.
I pulled her close to me and put my arms around her, holding her as her hot tears began to puddle on my chest. I didn’t figure that there was anything that I could say or do to help her, so I just held her close and murmured comforting words. That seemed to be all she needed, really. After a few minutes, I could tell that her crying had stopped even though I continued to hold and try to comfort her.
Finally, she used her hand to try and wipe away the small pool of tears she’d left on my chest as she told me, “Thank you, James. What you just did, holding me while I cried on you, was just exactly what I needed - and it’s another example of the way you are that makes me love you so much.”
With that, she moved on top of me, straddling my waist as she supported her head with her hands, looking into my eyes from close up. She watched me for several seconds before telling me, “I heard you, the other day - when you told me that you loved me after I told you that I was going to have to move. It surprised me, and I really didn’t know what to say then. But I’ve had time to think about it, and I realized that I love you, too, James - for all the reasons that I told you about, and a lot more, besides. I didn’t plan it, and didn’t even know it was happening - but there it is. I know that my leaving hurts you, even though you haven’t said or done anything other than to try and make this as easy for me as you can. But I know it’s there - because I feel it, too. It hurts. But my moving away is something that I have to do now. Not only for Matt, but so that there isn’t any temptation for one or both of us to try and do something foolish. We agreed, early on, that we’d never be a ‘couple’; that promise was a lot easier to keep in the beginning than it is now - but we still have to keep it, and that’s something that would be even harder to do if I was able to stay here. Dear, sweet James; you’ve done as much for me as I’ve ever done for you, and I will never, EVER forget you. But I can’t be WITH you, either. If I’m ever going to leave here for Matt, I can’t continue to share my bed with you - you’ve simply become too much a part of my life that way. The next time we make love —and it will be making love— will have to be our last. The first time we were together, I all but took a little bit of your virginity. This time, I want to GIVE you some of mine. It’s a part of me that some men have wanted, but I’ve always been afraid to let them have it - afraid that they would hurt me, or think less of me if I let them do it. But I know that I don’t have to be afraid with you. You’re as gentle and patient and caring a lover as I’ve ever had, and if there’s anyone I want to have me that way for the first time, it’s you.”
To this day, I don’t know where I came up with the words I used to answer her: “Maureen, you mean the world to me, and I would never, ever willingly do anything to hurt you - I’d rather suffer the pain myself. Yes, I do love you - but I understand that it’s a love that can’t go on, for whatever reasons. Please don’t feel that you ‘have’ to give any part of yourself to me for ANY reason; what you have already given to me - your love, your understanding, and your self - means more to me than I could ever begin to tell you. I will always remember you with love, no matter what else may happen —or not happen— between us. If there is a part of yourself that you want me to have, then I will accept it - not as payment, because I feel that it is I who am in debt to you - but as a gift, from your heart to mine, a symbol of what we have had together.”
When I finished speaking, Maureen’s eyes were beginning to glisten again, but she managed to blink the tears back before moving to put her arms around me as much as she could, hugging me.
As big as I was —just short of six feet tall at that time— it wasn’t hard for me to move to sit up so that I could hold her on my lap, hugging her as fiercely as she did me. After a bit, she kissed my chest before pushing herself away from me a little so we could look into each other’s eyes as she told me “Dear James! Yes, I want you to have that part of me, as you said - a gift, from my heart to yours.”
That said, she leaned forward and began kissing me - not just my lips, but my cheeks, my forehead, my face, and any other part of me that she was able to reach. In return, I began to caress her body - from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet, there wasn’t a part of her that escaped my gentle touch over the next several minutes.
As the seconds turned into minutes, our kisses and touches changed from loving to passionate - and then more, into desire. Our lips met, then parted so our tongues could duel as we tasted each other; our hands moved across each other’s bodies, teasing and stimulating as our breathing quickened, and soft noises of our inflamed desires escaped our lips.
I felt myself getting harder and harder - but if that was to be our last time together, I wanted more than just to get off. I wanted, more than anything else, to be able to memorize her - the way she sounded, the smell and taste of her, the sight and feel of her body.
Lifting her off of my lap, I moved to set her on the bed next to me, and then guided her to lie back. She looked up at me expectantly, but I only smiled and shook my head, telling her “If this is to be our last time, then I think something I read in a Robert Heinlein novel applies: dum vivimus, vivamus.”
She looked at me in confusion, and I translated for her “While we live, let us live” - drawing a happy smile and nod from her in return.
She laid back, patiently waiting as I went about trying to memorize everything about her that my five senses could detect. I again familiarized myself with her body, starting from the top of her head (the feel and color and smell of her hair) to the soles of her feet, and everything in between. When I was done with the front of her, I moved to lie next to her, duplicating her position so she could give me the same treatment. She did, and when she was done with the front of me, I turned over so she could finish the job. She kissed the back of my neck as she gave my ass a squeeze to let me know when she was finished; as I moved to get up, she was taking a face-down position next to me.
I picked up where I’d left off, letting my fingertips delight in the softness of her skin as my tongue and lips left a trail of small, moist kisses where they’d been; my nose informed me how delightful she smelled even as my eyes took pleasure in the smooth, clear expanse of skin that wrapped her form; my ears took note of her soft breathing, and the gentle moans she released at my soft touch.
By the time I finished, I was almost lying on her - my weight was supported by my legs, which were resting on the outside of hers, my body supported by my elbows next to her, my hands gently stroking the smooth, soft skin at the outer edges of her breasts. Beneath me, my erect penis lay along the cleft of her ass as I used my lips to softly nibble her ears and shoulders and neck, making her gasp and moan in pleasure and arousal.
As I continued to bring her ever so slowly to greater and greater levels of arousal, I felt her begin clenching the cheeks of her ass, trying to draw my penis between them. When that wasn’t working, she started a slow arching of her hips, using the warm, firm globes of her ass to caress the underside of my erection, making me even longer and harder.
Still, all I did was to stimulate as many of her erogenous —but not erotic— zones as I could, steadily ratcheting up her passion and desire. Only when I heard her begin a soft whimpering of frustrated lust did I have mercy on her - letting myself slide down her body so that my penis slid along the curve of her buttocks before coming to rest with the head against her hot, wet opening as she arched her back and drew her knees up to give me a better angle to penetrate her.
Even then, I didn’t move to enter her as I usually did. Instead, I began a slow, gentle rocking motion that moved me inside her a millimeter at a time, teasing her and making her all the more anxious.
It was a full minute before the head of my penis finally slid through the tight ring of her entrance - accompanied by her groan of pleasure.
A few more minutes, and it was done: my erect penis was fully inside her, her firm ass cheeks pressing firmly against my lower belly. Her breathing was coming as a continuous series of pants, her hands clenched in the bedding.
I stayed inside her that way for a while, trying to memorize the feeling of her tight, wet vagina clenched around me before I slowly eased myself back, withdrawing myself from her. When I felt her opening around me just behind the head of my erection, I reversed direction without pausing, filling her again - just as quickly/slowly as I’d slid out of her. When I was all the way inside her again, I moved to slide myself back out - but moved my arm so that I could reach under her, between her thighs where I began softly stroking and rubbing her clitoris, making her gasp at the added stimulation. Over the next several minutes, I continued to make slow-motion love to her as I kept my finger dancing on the sensitive nubbin of her clitoris. My actions were stimulating her so much that her lubricating oils were fairly flowing out of her, traveling along the cleft of her mons to where they could keep her erect clitoris well lubricated.
My movement in and out of her vagina was more than sufficient to keep me hard, which was all that I needed - more than anything else, I wanted to be able to truly savor the sensation of being inside her. She, on the other hand, was steadily —but EVER so slowly— being brought closer and closer to the brink of orgasm; I knew or sensed that the pace of what I was doing to her would make it far more powerful for her than anything she’d experienced with me before.
A few more minutes, and I could tell that she was at the edge: I could feel her vagina begin a faint ‘fluttering’ around my invading penis as she panted her increasing passion between soft groans of pleasure. Knowing that she was almost there, I deliberately slowed my actions even more - only to have the reduced stimulation bring a moaned “Dear God, what are you doing to me?!” from Maureen. Another minute, and I could feel that she was at the brink; while giving her clitoris a soft, rapid circling with my fingertip, I thrust myself into her as hard as I could - and felt it as her entire body froze underneath me with the start of what I could tell was an incredibly powerful orgasm.
Around my buried penis, her vagina clamped down in a single powerful seizure as she gave voice to a high-pitched keening; the sound she made and the tightening of her vagina lasted far longer than I’d thought - and when they finally ended, she drew a great, shuddering gasp of breath that was cut off by another powerful seizure going through her body. The second didn’t last quite as long as the first, and she was able to draw breath again before a third wave of release coursed through her - one that had her vagina begin a kind of ‘milking’ sensation that started near the base of my penis and rippled upward toward the head as she groaned her pleasure.
I was timing the movements of my finger on her clitoris with the spasms of pleasure I could feel washing through her body, not only intensifying, but drawing out her orgasm, making it as powerful and long as I could.
It was when her climax had tapered off and I could feel her trembling from release and exhaustion beneath me that I finally stopped my ministrations to her clitoris, though I kept my erect member as deep inside her as I could manage. I could tell that the force and duration of her climax had left her in a state that most closely resembled a limp rag; I continued to hold myself over her, covering her body with mine even as my penis was buried in her.
After a little bit, I felt her begin to stir under me and lifted up a little; she raised up enough to turn her head to the side and managed to croak “Dear God! I’ve had some powerful orgasms before, but nothing like that! You kept teasing me and teasing me, and then all of a sudden, WHAM!”
I leaned forward enough to kiss her on the nape of her neck and was surprised when I felt her body shudder as though she was going through some kind of orgasmic aftershock. I moved to the side a bit so that she could see me looking at her and asked “What just happened? All I did was kiss you!”
She managed a half-laugh and answered “I just had a kind of mini-orgasm, damn you! The condition you’ve got me in, I think almost anything you do would get me off again!”
I let her see me smiling at her and asked “Then you think this might be the time to, uh...”
“Take my cherry?” she asked for me, before adding “Yeah, it probably would - jeez, I feel like all my muscles have turned into tapioca pudding. You could probably drive a truck up my ass, and I’d cum from it!” with a small laugh.
I laughed with her before asking “You’re sure you want to do that? You don’t have to do it, you know.”