The Math Tutor

Author's Note: This is my first attempt to post a story on here. It is a fantasy, nothing more. I am not a teacher, but did work as a math tutor in college. Any and all comments and criticism are appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.

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A cold, late autumn rain began to fall as Bethany walked up the short drive to her destination. She was much like any other girl her age. She got up, went to class, went to volleyball practice, went on the occasional date, and went home to sleep. She loved volleyball, and was doing well in most of her classes, but she felt that something was missing in her life.

After graduating from high school, she had received a scholarship from the local community college for volleyball, so she had decided to take them up on it, saving her money and taking the "basics" to get them out of the way before she moved on to the State University. She had chosen physical therapy as her major with a minor in nutrition. Unfortunately, that meant taking some harder classes than she had anticipated. She had done well in her high school classes, making the honor roll every quarter, so she did not expect to have any problems with her college classes.

That was, until she had to take College Algebra.

Math was never one of her strongest subjects. Every year in high school, she had needed to find someone to help her get her mind around all of it, if for no other reason just so she could stay on athletic eligibility. In some cases, it had meant doing certain "favors" for those who had helped her. That had been how she had lost her virginity. It hadn't been that great of an experience, the guy thrusting into her a few times and then blowing his load. He had apologized, but couldn't get it back up. He refused to even go down on her, saying it was "dirty" and "disgusting" because he had just had his pecker in there. So, she had to pleasure herself after she had gotten home. Then she cried herself to sleep.

After that, she had been more careful about who she had help her. That had been how she discovered women and the pleasure they could bring. She was happy that it had been her best friend, Jenny, who had helped her discover that. Jenny had always been smart in high school, and was happy to help her out. They had quickly become secret lovers, always exploring ways to pleasure one another.

It had broken Bethany's heart when Jenny moved away. She was sure Jenny felt the same way. But Jenny had gotten an academic scholarship to a university out of state, and it was just too good to pass up. They had made love the night before she left, bring each other to orgasm after orgasm before falling asleep in one another's arms, both crying at the thought of never seeing the other again.

Now, she was twenty years old, a sophomore in college, and struggling in College Algebra. She had managed to avoid math classes until now, not really wanting to face the prospect of trying to find a tutor to help her. Most of her classmates were as lost as she was. Not too surprising there. Professor Williams was like seventy, and there was a joke going around that he sometimes forgot which class he was teaching. He also taught Calculus and Physics, and it did seem that sometimes he thought he was in one of those classes as opposed to simple College Algebra.

She had looked into trying to find a tutor on campus. Many students worked as tutors to make a little money on the side. Most of the postings were from guys, and the thought of going to one of them made her flash back to high school. She was sure that it might be different with a college guy, that he might last a little longer, but then she would think of Jenny, and her heart would skip a beat. She had called the few girls that had posted, but they all told her they were booked up and couldn't help her. She was at her wits end, and had almost called one of the guys when fate had stepped in.

Bethany had been at a bookstore when it happened. She had been looking for "Algebra For Dummies" or something along those lines. It seemed there had been a run on them, and she wasn't too surprised. She was still looking over some of the others when she had heard a familiar voice.

"Bethany? Is that you?" the voice had said.

She turned to see who it was, and she had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping. The voice belonged to Brenda Thompson, her high school math teacher. Ms. Thompson had always been nice to her, always trying to help her out if she was having any problems, even if the subject wasn't math. Jenny would often tease Bethany about it, saying the older woman had a crush on her. Bethany only laughed the first time she had done that, but as time went on, she confessed to Jenny that she herself had a crush on her teacher. Jenny tried to laugh it off at first, and then realized that she was serious. Jenny told her it was okay and had confessed her feeling for the teacher too. After that, they often talked about fantasies they each had about the woman. Sometimes it would be just her and one of them, but sometimes it was all three of them together, licking, kissing, and fingering each other to higher and higher levels of bliss. When Bethany and Jenny would make love, if one or the other accidentally used the teacher's name, they would just smile and drive the dreamer to earth shattering orgasm. Sometimes they would even role-play, one of them taking the role of the teacher.

And now, that same teacher was standing before her in a bookstore. She looked much the same as Bethany remembered from school, from the knee-length navy blue skirt to the white silk blouse to the small wire-rim glasses that seemed to magnify her blue eyes. She had her long, dark hair done up in a bun resting on the back of her head. She never seemed to wear much if any make-up, and Bethany never thought she needed any. The young girl's heart skipped a beat as she looked at her former teacher.

"Hi Ms. Thompson," Bethany said smiling, putting the book she was looking at back on the shelf. "Long time, no see."

"Well, you moved on, young lady," Brenda said, returning the smile. "How are you? Everything going alright at school?"

"Oh, yeah, for the most part," Bethany answered, looking down.

"Now, I know that look," Brenda said, putting her arm around her. "What's wrong?"

"Well," Bethany said, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice. "I am having some problems with College Algebra. I just can't seem to get it."

"I see," Brenda said removing her arm. Bethany didn't know if it was from disappointment her teacher may of had for her or if the older woman had felt her shudder from her touch, she just wanted to have it back. "Let me guess, Mr. Williams?"

"Yes," Bethany said, her brown eyes meeting her teachers blue ones. "How did you know?"

"I can't believe they are still letting that old fart teach," Brenda said, shaking her head. "Do they still joke about him forgetting what class he's in?"

"Yeah," Bethany said, smiling. "You know about it?"

"I had his same class," Brenda said. "He was senile back then too. I guess that's what tenure can do for you. That and having had the Dean as a classmate."

"Wow," Bethany said with a small giggle. "He must be older than I thought."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Brenda asked playfully. "Are you saying I'm old, young lady?"

"No, I didn't...I mean...I wasn't," Bethany stammered to get the words out, her eyes wide.

"I'll have you know that I am only thirty-six," Brenda said, smiling at the flustered girl. "That may be old by your standards, but not mine."

"I didn't mean it like that," Bethany said, realizing that her teacher was making fun at her.

"I know, Bethany," Brenda said with a small laugh. "So have you tried to find a tutor?"

"Yeah," Bethany said, looking down again. "But most of them are booked up and those that aren't don't seem to promising to me."

"Yeah, I know that feeling," Brenda said. "What about friends or classmates? Can't any of them help you?"

"Well, most of my friends from high school have either moved away or have lives of their own. And my classmates all seem to be as lost as I am."

"Yeah, they probably are," Brenda said, thoughtfully. "What about your family?"

"Both my parents seem too busy," Bethany said. "Dad has two jobs and mom is working nights, just to put my other sisters through college. That was one of the reasons I stayed so close to home. Try to save up some money, you know."

"Yeah, it must be hard to be parents with three kids in college," Brenda said with a sigh. "Well, what about me? I could try to help you with it."

Bethany's heart thudded in her chest at the thought of being so close to this beautiful woman. She had never even considered asking the older woman for help, too afraid that she wouldn't even remember her or if she did, that she would be too busy.

"That would be great," Bethany said, her eyes locking with Brenda's again. "I could really use the help. But, I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh, you won't be a bother," Brenda said, smiling again. "What about tonight?"

"Can't tonight. I have a volleyball game," Bethany said, her heart falling. "What about tomorrow?"

"Ohhh, I can't tomorrow. PTA," Brenda said. "And Friday is the football game, you remember how that is."

"Yeah, I remember," Bethany said, feeling crushed.

"I'm free on Saturday, though. We could get together then and take a look at it. If you don't have any other plans," Brenda said, searching her face.

"Saturday would be great," Bethany said, her face and spirits brightening. "But I don't want to interfere with your plans either."

"Oh, you know teaching is my life, Bethany," Brenda said, blushing a bit. "So I will see you on Saturday then?"

"Sure," Bethany said, wondering why her teacher had blushed like that. "One okay?"

"Yes, one would be fine," Brenda said, smiling again, giving Bethany a small hug. "I'll see you then, okay?"

"Okay," Bethany said softly and watched her teacher walk away. She pretended to look at a few more books, but her mind was too preoccupied to focus on them. All she was really doing was waiting to make sure her teacher had left. She could still smell Ms. Thompson's perfume, and it was intoxicating to her. After about fifteen minutes, she left and raced home, cursing every stoplight she came to.

After getting home, she had raced to her room, stripped off her clothes and fingered herself to three orgasms. In her mind, they where Ms. Thompson's fingers, sometimes her tongue, and sometimes she dreamed of them just rubbing their pussies together, like she had seen in some of her dad's porno's. She had gone to her game, but since she was on the second string, didn't get a chance to play, which was okay with her since she was having such a hard time concentrating. She fell asleep that night naked, holding the shirt she had been wearing, inhaling her teacher's perfume.

That had seemed like forever ago. Thursday and Friday seemed to drag on and on. She still went to class and practice, but her mind kept drifting back to Ms. Thompson and everything she wanted to do with her. She had gone out with some of her college girlfriends Thursday, and had gotten a little drunk. When she got home, she went up, took a long hot shower (fingering her pussy and ass, dreaming of her teacher), went to her room and pulled out the "toy box" that she and Jenny had shared. She and Jenny had split up their collection the night before Jenny left, but there was still a butt plug, two dildos and her favorite vibrator. She took out the vibrator and used it that night after scrounging around for some fresh batteries. She hadn't used it since Jenny had left, but that night she wanted to pretend that Ms. Thompson was using it on her. After a very intense orgasm, she fell asleep with it buzzing deep inside of her.

After class on Friday, she drove across town and went into one of the Adult bookstores that were there. She was a little embarrassed by being in there, and the guy behind the counter seemed to be staring at her the whole time. She found the items she was looking for quickly, and the guy seemed to leer at her as he rang them up. He gave her his phone number along with her change, but she threw it away after leaving the store. She raced home again, and began to get everything ready for her meeting with her teacher. She barely got any sleep Friday night.

Now, with the cold, late autumn rain falling, she stood at the door of the woman she had been dreaming about for the last three days. She shivered a little, but not from the rain. This was it. She could still back out if she wanted to. She could make up some excuse for not showing up. But then she realized that her hand was knocking on the door.