Tutoring the Delinquent

“Y-yes,” she responds, shaking herself.

My hands curl into fists to keep from reaching for her as she picks up the textbook and her notes, settling both in her lap. “We should start with Ancient Greece and Hellenistic Civilization…”

For the next hour, Iris tutors me. And I memorize every single word. There is no way to forget a single thing that passes through her beautiful lips. The sun sets around her in pinks and golds as she goes through her notes, so intelligent and studious, my heart is in my throat the whole fucking time. I don’t forget for a single second that we have a deal, either. For every answer I get correct, she’s going to kiss me somewhere on my body. She’s going to do it topless, too. Jesus, if every man was lucky enough to study this way, there wouldn’t be a single failed test for the rest of time.

Jealousy tightens my gut. She’s never tutoring anyone else but me. I hadn’t even considered the possibility until now, but I don’t like it and it’s not happening.

“Medieval history doesn’t seem to agree with you,” she muses. “You’re scowling.”

“Am I the first guy you’ve tutored?”

She nods. Calmly. As if I didn’t just shout that question at her.

Relief rushes through me so swiftly, I get dizzy. “You can tutor other females if you absolutely have to, but I’m still coming with you.”

“Sure.” She giggles—making a significant dent in my irritation. “That won’t be distracting at all.”

“Distracting how?”

“The entire time I’ve been going through my notes, you’ve looked like…I don’t know. Like you’re ready to pounce on me.”

“I am.”

She tilts her head, exasperated, and it’s almost as hot as the eye rolling. “Have you paid attention to a single word I’d said?”

“Every fucking line, honey. Quiz me.” I beat my chest with a fist. “Let’s do this.”

“Very well, we’ll start easy. Who fought in the Peloponnesian War?”

“Athens and Sparta. Kiss my neck.” I crook my finger, beckoning her closer. There has been way too much space between us for way too long. “Might as well stay right here in front of me, because I’m getting them all right.”

“You’re so confident.”

“Your mouth is on the line, Iris.” Slowly, I tip my head to the right, watching her gaze slip to my neck and heat. “Kiss it. Take your time. We never decided the kisses had to be quick.”

She sets down her book, notes, rising up on her knees and coming toward me, the breeze almost blowing open her unbuttoned shirt. Just enough to see the center curves of her tits. My cock has been solid as fuck this entire time, but my balls start to hum and clench now, needing to spend. Wanting to do it inside of her. All over her. For her.

When Iris reaches me, she chews her bottom lip a moment, then slowly peels off the dress shirt, putting her in a thin pair of panties and nothing else. And my sweet lord, those tits. Perky fucking peaches. I want to worship and defile them. I want to put them in expensive bras encrusted with diamonds—and just watch me, I will. I’ll spoil her so rotten, every day will seem like Christmas for her.

Her delicate hands perch on my shoulders and I make a hoarse, involuntary sound, my dick stretching in my briefs. I hold my breath as she leans in and presses her lips to the area beneath my ear. Kissing me. Inhaling me shyly. Losing her breath against me when her hips meet mine. She feels what she’s done. What she’ll always do to this cock.

“Next question, Iris,” I grit out, my hands shaking with the need to crush her hips closer, where I can grind out some relief. “I need to earn another kiss.”

“Right.” She wets her lips, still so close to my neck, it’s the best kind of torture. “Which battle ended the war and how?”

“The Battle of Aegospotami. It ended in the destruction of Athens’ fleet of ships.”

I’m not going to lie, when she cuts me an impressed glance, I almost ejaculate then and there. Who knew I would like to please my tutor so much? “You were listening,” she says.

“I’ll never forget a single word you say.” My fingers climb the nape of her neck, sliding into her hair to cradle the back of her head. “Kiss my mouth now.”

There’s an eager quality to her expression now. She’s a horny girl. Fuck the football field, the best moments of my life are going to be spent making her come. I live for her. It’s killing me not to pin her down on the blanket right now and thrust home. The pain in my stomach is nearly unbearable, but the way her nipples drag up my pecs? The way her mouth meets mine from below in a feather-light kiss, slow, slow, slow, makes the torture worth it. She’s so motherfucking sweet.