Tutoring the Delinquent

I wouldn’t have to use force. She’s addicted to skin on skin contact with me. It makes her hot. A few minutes of making out with our shirts off and she’d be screaming for me to put it in. I’m a bastard. I’m a terrible man for considering it. One flick up my wrist and she’d be on her back. She might try and push me off, briefly, but she’s too horny to fight me for long. She’d let me kiss her. I’d hump her through those threadbare panties and she’d start to crave the real thing. The way I do.

No, crave isn’t the right word for how badly I want Iris.

I’m being eaten alive.

She stretches out to smooth a corner of the blanket and the shirt rides up to the small of her back, displaying her ass. Those two tight buns that I’d crawl across a thousand miles of broken glass to sink my teeth into. I’m used to getting what I want, when I want it. And I’ve never wanted anything more than her heart, her body, her commitment to me. Never. Nothing else even comes close. So the waiting, the torture, is something of an honor. The lust burns, but I fucking love it. It belongs to Iris. It’s for her, so it’s right.

I’m the man who gets to be with her. That’s worth the pain.

But that doesn’t mean I’m a saint.

I have to find a way to get some relief. Something. Anything. Or I’m worried I won’t make it through the next two days without impressing my will upon her. And that would disrespect her thoughtfulness, her determination to make me a better man and football player. Can’t do that to my future wife. I won’t. I can be the good man she thinks I am.

Can’t I?

I swallow the rock in my throat and close my eyes, breathing deep. Don’t think about how tight her pussy is going to be. Yeah right. Every other thought in my head consists of exactly that. How she’ll stretch and clench and whimper and claw.

Relief. I need it. Some measure of it. Somehow.

Already disgusted with myself, I whip off my shirt and toss it into the sand, kneeling down beside Iris on the blanket. She’s in the process of finding the right page of her notes, so it takes her a moment to look up. But when she does, her double-take almost makes me laugh. Or groan. Or both. Her balance wanes and she starts to pitch sideways, so I reach out and steady her. “You all right, Iris?”

“What, me? Yes.” She’s staring at my abs, so I flex them and listen to her intake of breath. “I just…I just…”

“You just what, honey?”

“Didn’t expect you to be shirtless.”

“Isn’t that what we agreed on?”

“Yes, but during the kissing parts only.”

The kissing parts. Oh my God, she’s so fucking cute. How am I not tackling her onto the blanket right now? “You want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No!” Her cheeks darken. “I mean, n-no.”

I nod with mock seriousness. “You should probably take yours off, too. Just so I don’t feel self-conscious.”

She smirks adorably. “Nice try. You don’t even know the meaning of self-conscious. Not when you’ve got all of this…” She wiggles her fingers near my chest. “Going on.”

“Is that a compliment, Iris?” I wrap my hands around her waist and drag her toward me. “Ah, honey. You should see me with my pants off.”

I expect a snarky retort, but she chews her lip instead. “I’m nervous about sex, Teddy.”

My heart drops to my stomach, cold prickles of sweat popping up and down my spine. Oh, this girl of mine. I don’t like her anything but happy. I hate it. Was I really contemplating using her need for skin-on-skin contact against her? Christ, I’m such a bastard. “You don’t have to be nervous, Iris. When we have sex for the first time, I’m going to go nice and slow. I’m going to make sure your pussy is wet enough to fit me. We’re going to find out what you like so I can give it to you every day for the rest of your life.”

Curious blue eyes search mine. “What do you like?”

“I like you, Iris.” Just like every other time I remember my empty, meaningless track record with women before her, a pit forms in the center of my stomach. “Please, I don’t want to think about when you weren’t around.” Nausea roils in my belly and I yank her closer, the magic of her presence keeping the distress at bay. “When we make love, it’s going to be my first time, too. All right?”

“Make love?” she repeats dazedly into my neck.

“That’s what I said.” I can’t stop my hands from creeping up underneath the tail of her button-down shirt, delving down the back of her panties to massage her ass cheeks. “You think it’s crazy to love you after one day, honey? You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I’m coming dangerously close to revealing what an absolute fanatic I am for her. Maybe I have already, somewhat, but she doesn’t know how deep this obsession runs. I’m not sure I even know yet. I don’t want to show Iris too much intensity and scare her away, though. So I harness every iota of my willpower and ease her out of my embrace. “We better get studying,” I rasp.