College, Tutor, Randy, Opportunism,
My parents had me scared. They were insisting on a maths tutor for me. My BFF Hannah had one, a crusty old dude, and worse, a retired teacher.
My problem was that my mum was a Uni Psychology Tutor and my dad an Architect, both too frickin busy to help with homework but putting the screws on me rather tightly to get a high Uni entrance score for the National University in Canberra.
Life's a bitch with nagging parents and no regular boyfriend, and maths assignments getting more complex by the week.
Even retail and party therapy were at a premium, with Hannah being grounded till her results improved and stayed improved as if I would contemplate social suicide by rocking up to a senior's party alone.
I lost that option as I dipped severely in my midyear exam's finance and data sections.
Yeah, maths truly sucked.
Both mum and dad insisted on a tutor of their choice.
Dad couldn't understand my lack of enthusiasm for maths, giving me ten minutes of his precious time for a rousing lecture of lifting my game and enthusiasm, or I could kiss schoolie week on the Gold Coast goodbye.
I had an incentive to get there now: Hannah the tart had passed her midyear maths exam with tutor help, and schoolies' fun was safely in sight.
The thought of my BFF getting to schoolies without me made my regular 'touch myself up' session under the doona slip into a terrible: not tonight feeling.
Oh, Christ, if you're so tense you can't get yourself off at eighteen, what's the frickin world coming to?
Anyway, my dad was waxing lyrical as he did about any of his up-market Sydney harbour view housing designs; that maths was beautiful, numbers were perfect, sublime in fact, and they were the aesthetic underpinning everything, plus a skill necessary for any professional job prospect.
Somewhere, as he prattled on and on: I realised I had lost interest in maths, probably at the point I developed an interest in cock at college.
When I was little, numbers were fun. I remembered a game I played with my dad when he seemed to have more time for me.
He got me to say the biggest number I could think of, and he would say plus one, and then I would too: plus, one: there was always plus one with numbers.
However, College taught me my body only needed one plus one, one cock, and I was fine.
Screw maths: it truly sucked.
Sucking off cock when I could get it was a way better use of my time. But I wanted to get to schoolies, so I would have to suck up to my maths tutor.
However, it looked like I was finally screwed as I faced my first Tutor afternoon. Boring maths for two hours straight.
Of course, my parents were too busy to be there, but they had reliable references for my unknown tutor's abilities.
So, there I was, just home at four o'clock, still in my short college tartan skirt and tight white close-fitting summer blouse, barely containing my copious bust, when there was a knock at the front door.
Well, we were both caught by surprise. He wasn't any older than twenty-five and had a stylish haircut and an open shirt, revealing a smattering of sexy chest hair and casual jeans.
I saw him sum me up quickly as very pleasant to the eye. But he held his tutor reserve.
I introduced myself, and he did, too.
We laughed because he was Simon and I was Simone.
"Nearly an equal equation," I got out with a bit of a blush.
He held his etiquette, and I realised it was my school uniform.
Screw it. I should have changed into something casual and sexy.
He said, Okay, let's start straight away as your parents have high expectations, and your mother wants to see what you achieve each session."
He sounded like he was on a performance bonus: my performance.
I had a study table in my room.
So, I led him there. I was not thinking what he would make of my old rock idol posters, plush soft toy collection and pink doona cover.
In some ways, I was still young.
He said nothing.
I thought he will never touch me now.
He thinks I'm immature. I should have set my maths stuff up on the dining room table. I was embarrassing myself.
I couldn't concentrate on even the first finance question, and Simon could see it: standing just behind me.
He completely surprised me: "You're too tense. Let me rub your shoulders."
Simon didn't wait for my reply.
His fingers were plying into my shoulder blades and the back of my neck…fuck it felt good…really, really good.
It was that great. I closed my eyes.
One of his hands wandered down over my breast and was cupping and rubbing it through my blouse and bra. I let out a petite, soft moan.
"Ooh."
I felt great. My nipples got hard so quickly as both his hands were nurturing the flesh of my tits in a pleasant massage.
There was no resistance from me as his hand ventured easily inside my blouse, teasingly over and over.
Thankfully, next, under my bra, his fingers came in direct and necessary contact with my hard nipples.
It was a sensual blur as Simon unbuttoned my blouse, removed it, and unclipped my bra so expertly.
His mouth and lips were so hot and wet and stunningly agreeable in their contact with my taut pink nipples.
'Mmm, mmm, mmm," I moaned.
I was cock hungry and was kneeling in front of his pants. He let me undo his belt and drop his jeans and boxers in one easy motion, revealing his hard, big cock.
Oh, numbers were suddenly unimportant to me; inches or centimetres, I didn't care.
His cock was gloriously erect.
Yeah, it had size and symmetry and a cute off-centre curvy angle.
I was a college girl — cock starved in recent times and lovingly enjoying the entire length of his pole and his groans.
"Uh, uh, orrgh!"
I went to work on his cock tip, wrapped around by my lips and allowing my tongue to titillate it at the same time. My shallow sucking of his tip, in a lip-locking frenzy, drove him wild with desire for my body.
He was so energetic and fast as he directed me onto my student table, my maths stuff scattered, pencils and rulers hitting the carpet, worksheets crumpled under my arse, and a metal compass point came so close to puncturing my peachy cheek.
I pushed it away as Simon yanked my white school knickers to the side, hitched my tartan skirt to my petite waist and drove his tongue straight into my ready, randy, raunchy, flappy pussy lips.
The prick going flick crazy over my aroused, dainty, sensitive clitty.
"Uugh, uugh,uugh," my sequence of appreciation.
Heavy breathing and girly moans, and the expression of desiring cock in me; escalated the sexual equation between us.
"Oh, you prick…Yeah…Yeah…Lick me out…Oh, so good…So good…Oh my God…Yeah…Yes…Yess….Oh, fuck it…I need your cock in me…Now."
Put simply — I expressed — my equation of needs.
One of my legs was suddenly over his right shoulder, my left leg off at an angle, as he held my ankle and he stabbed his hardness into my exposed trimmed pussy, quickly shaping my girly flesh with a series of pummelling, passionate, perfect pecker thrusts.
"Oh, you tart," he said, "Your short school dress, so sexy. It's driving me wild."
Oh, fuck, it was good, really, superlative good. Body satisfaction escalating. I had the drilling hardness between my legs that all young women desire.
Filling my flesh space as it was designed to be filled. Then, the craving for orgasmic release hit my mind. I had to cum and cum hard, and Simon's cock was doing a great job of getting both him and me there.
I was luxuriating in my sexual self, thoroughly enjoying a spread leg pounding.
Anticipating each deep thrust of happiness.
Bodily euphoria closing in rapidly.
I was ready to cum and cum quickly.
But Simon had other male experienced plans for my youthful body of eighteen summers.
He urged me with strong hands to position myself doggy over the edge of my student table. My hands gripping the sides of the table, my legs super spread.
My table in front of me was a frickin mess of crumpled maths sheets with girly moisture stains splattered over them.
Mmm, I'd have fun passing these up to my teacher…
I didn't have time to think beyond that as I was lost in my delight in my flesh opening and its power to transfix me on an upward pleasure gradient.
Oh, fuck: it was a dogging to remember from the moment it started.
He eased off my school skirt and panties, planting smoochie, mwah kisses on my butt.
Simon teased my wet open, pliant, pleading pussy lips with his cock head. Nuzzling and snuggling around my sensitive opening. His fingers teased my arsehole too.
"You filthy prick…Ouch…Ouch," I screamed: as he slapped my cute butt cheeks twice.
Then his cock filled my needy, greedy girly tunnel of moisture from behind me; his fat hardness was delicious and satisfying.
I was craving it, the intensity of rigid dick in me, as he searched for new ways to expand my opening and varied the depth and pressure and speed of his cock's action in me.
He guided one of my hands to play with my clitty while he burrowed deeper and then teased shallowly into me.
His finger in my arsehole getting crooked as my breathing intensified with my powerful clitty orgasm.
"Uh, uuh, uuhh!"
He knew I had climaxed and cummed very successfully as he guided me back over, lying across my student desk.
So exposed…so youthfully vulnerable.
He asked to cum over my soft belly, and I was compliant.
God, he could have shot his load anywhere he liked…over my tits…over my face…I was ready for his cum anywhere over or in my body.
"Orrgh…Orrhgh…Orrhgh," he went as he yanked himself over my soft tummy; his face contorted in the happy excitement of male release as his cream flew out.
"Oh My…Oh My God," I gasped as his first jizz wad on a fantastic trajectory hit my eyebrow and then my cheek and streamed into my astonished open mouth.
Boy, I understood trajectory fast as his second spasm of male happiness splattered across my bouncy perky titties, creating a string of cum blobs like a pearl necklace.
Simon's third spurt pooled ideally like a dollop of cream in my indented navel—a cute sperm swimming pool.
Then the rest of his juices trickled out of his cock tip and smeared over my soft belly.
Being both bodily satisfied, we got into the maths quickly after I printed the assignment from the school intranet again.
I was surprised at how attentive and motivated I was.
Not to pass maths, get to schoolies, or keep the oldies off my back.
No, learning maths truly sucked, and I was going to suck Simon's cock as soon as I finished the finance set.