Patreon Story: The Tutor, Part Nine

Part Nine

I’m a straight girl.

Always have been. And not in a closed-minded way. I grew up in a progressive area, with open and accepting parents. Several of my old high school friends and current college friends are gay or bi, and it’s never bothered me in the slightest. Like who you like, and let people like who they like; it’s not that difficult of a concept. Sure, I’ve kissed a few girls for the stupid sleepover reasons, but that doesn’t mean I’m actually into them. A cliché dare is still just a dare at the end of the day.

Until Annabelle. 

I don’t know what it was about her. I’ve seen attractive girls before, but anyone can recognize good looks within their own sex. Perfect face, perfect hair, perfect body. Youthful in her late teenage years, but mature in her expressions and body language. Confidence practically exuded from her, no matter what attitude or tone she was taking. I had already seen several facets of her personality within a single morning. But I had also seen all those features on all other girls throughout the years, often combined in similar ways. None of them had made me subconsciously question a thing or two about myself.  

And here she was, in just a bra and thong. The simple black style of her undergarments didn’t seem to match the expensive outfit that went over them, but what did I know? She could have paid plenty for the right fabric, the perfect fit, etc. Lord knows bras are a pain to get just right. Or maybe Annabelle just wasn’t picky about her underwear when she was at home on a Saturday. Either way, the simplicity didn’t detract from her beauty. The black paired well with her long red hair, and both red and black offered a contrast to her flawless fair skin. 

Not that I was staring.

I was looking over Annabelle’s work. The extensive problem set I had prepared for her, to see what the best tutoring approach would be. When choosing the problems, as well as creating some myself, I had started with calculus. Even though I was hired to prepare her for undergrad, it wouldn’t hurt to help her shore up any weak spots in her current AP class. Plus a strong grasp on calculus would help her in future classes as well, considering that she would be taking a more advanced version of the subject next year. That’s what I did when I started university. 

Looking over Annabelle’s work. Not constantly glancing over to the portrait view of the scantily clad girl. It’s not even that I was actively checking her out. She was too young for me, and a private student of mine, and a girl. But she was also literally doing yoga in my peripherals, even when I managed to keep my gaze down on the sheet in front of me. Ultimately, I just had to keep telling myself that both nudity and movement would draw anyone’s eyes. If someone walked into Annabelle’s suite right now, man or woman, I’m pretty sure I’d have trouble keeping my eyes up if they were unexpectedly wearing next to nothing.

Back to mathematics. 

Going into this session, I had no idea what to expect. Annabelle’s mother told me that the girl was bright, but that could have just been a mother being a mother. Despite being told that I was hired to prepare her for undergrad classes, there was still a chance that she was a spoiled rich girl who didn’t have a solid grasp on the basics. I already knew I was wrong about that particular assumption, based on the problems Annabelle completed before I went to help Trixie with the dishes. Annabelle had breezed through everything, leaving her to work on the last two thirds of the problems in my absence. 

As for the rest of the problems, I was once again surprised to see just how well she did. Correct answers, again and again, until she made it to the last ten problems. It’s not that I had prepared the girl to fail, but I also purposely complicated things as the problems progressed. Unless she had a tutor before me, or had worked her way through numerous mathematics textbooks on her own, there was no way she would be able to solve the higher level problems I had given her. And she didn’t. But her efforts were still impressive. She had inferred quite a bit on her lonesome, despite not knowing the proper formulas, and had taken a stab at every problem rather than leaving anything blank. The last few were blatantly wrong, but at least she didn’t leave them blank.

One thing was certain: I’d have to adjust my tutoring plan. Annabelle knew a lot more than I expected her to know. But since most of my time had been wasted on chores rather than teaching, I wouldn’t have to improvise a lesson for very long. And, now that I was thinking about my work with Trixie again, there was also the question of whether or not I’d be coming back at all. It was good money, but this was also a lot more than I bargained for when hesitantly agreeing to the trial session. Not only the excessive time spent in the kitchen, but also the current situation where the redhead bombshell was carrying on with her stretches regardless of my discomfort.

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