Did you know you need experience and references for an entry-level teaching position? Marisol found out long after her fellow Bachelor of Education graduates had ransacked the bank of tutoring positions, leaving her entire career in the hands of, sigh… Archie.
Marisol rattled the knob, slammed the door behind her, and stomped across the bedroom. Archie’s snores remained undisturbed. Opening the blinds did make him grunt at the morning light, which could only be qualified as ‘morning’ for another hour.
“Come on, Archie. It’s late, and we have a lot to catch up.” More and more each day.
Archie made the mating call of a dying sloth before turning over in his bed.
“For god’s sake…” Marisol made sure Archie heard the zipper of her coat as she took it off. What she wore underneath was not the teaching attire she imagined herself expanding young minds in, but the only way to get Archie out of bed was to expand something else.
She had a borderline boyish haircut, but nothing was boyish about her figure. Marisol had always judged her breasts to be uncomfortably large for her thin frame but made it a point, until Archie came into her life, never to use them for flirtatious advantages.
Now, flirtatious was too soft a word. Under Marisol’s long coat were simple-enough jeans but a tank top so oversized the shoulder straps fell limply over her plump breasts. Not only could you see the contours of her nipples through the white, ribbed fabric, but the wide neck and open sides completed the not-much-left-to-the-imagination look. From this point on, she had to take careful steps and restrict arm movements or one of her perky jubblies was sure to slip out.
Archie turned around as if he could smell the soft flesh of tits. He had a t-shirt on but never wore anything under the covers, as made evident by the tent pitched in his bed.
“You have a history exam on Monday. We need to spend all weekend getting you ready. Let’s go.” Marisol clapped her hands, an early mistake that sent her breasts on a wild dance.
“You know I can’t wake up without my morning blowie.”
“You’ll get your blowie when you get up.” Her days were full of these minor concessions to purchase a few minutes of attention span from that lazy, horny, immature, entitled brat.
“Aren’t you listening? I need my blowie to get up. I have ADHD, you know.”
Yes, you seem to bring that up whenever any effort on your part is required. But she didn’t say that. “I’ll give you a blowie, and then we work all day. No interruptions.”
“But what about my hotdog? I need a blowie to get up and a hotdog to focus. Because of my ADHD.” Archie was not talking about food but the way his cock looked between Marisol’s juicy tits.
You could gauge the volume of Marisol’s internal screams by the tightness of her clenched fists. “One blowie, one… hotdog. Then it’s straight to work, OK?”
“OK, mom.”
I’m barely four years older than you… Shaking her head, Marisol knelt by his low-frame bed before pulling the sheets off of his erection. Not that she had seen many in her life, but Archie’s penis always felt incompatible with her mouth the same way her large breasts felt incompatible with her petite frame. But if she didn’t stretch her lips around it, today would be another wasted day.
Cock in mouth, Marisol sighed one last time before getting to work. What she lacked in passion she made up with the hours of experience she had accrued this year and disturbingly vast knowledge of how Archie liked his dick sucked. The boy’s sperm was liquid distraction that had to come out of his body every fifteen gosh-darn minutes.
The fastest way to get Archie oozing was to pretend to be parched, trekking through the desert, and suck on his cock like it was a Gatorade bottle with a tricky nozzle. She occasionally throated him down to the balls mainly to refresh her spit as a natural lubricant for her hands.
And speaking of hands, sleepy Archie’s hand had come to life and found one of her breasts, his fingers jiggling the fun bag over the camisole like weighing a coin purse. The worse part about the whole ordeal was the awkwardness of having to keep her eyes locked into his; the boy wouldn’t cum without embarrassing eye contact.
Her sucking slurps and pops were loud enough to titillate his senses but soft enough for his mom not to hear should she be walking down the hallway. When Marisol felt Archie tense, she made of her mouth a suction cup and drained his balls to the very last sperm until his cock started to soften in her hand. Swallowing was another concession. Apparently, a ten-minute blowjob ‘didn’t count’ unless she ‘appreciated the load’.
“Alright, up, up, up,” Marisol said, prying Archie’s hand off her breast while slapping the bed to force movement. Her breath still tasted of his sperm as if his cock never left her mouth.
“I’m up. I’m up… sheesh. You’re such a slave driver.” Archie trudged out of bed only to take two steps and collapse pantless in his gaming chair.
“We’re wasting way too much time in the morning,” Marisol said, adjusting her camisole before getting down on her knees again to stuff his soft but still considerable cock under her shirt and suck again on the tip sticking out from between her breasts squished together.
“You think I like having ADHD?” Archie’s cock hardened quickly smothered in satin pillows. Marisol massaged her own breasts harder than she’d like to painfully transfer a fraction of the kneading to the hidden penis between them. Her head bobbed and filled the room with more wet suction sounds.
After an eternity and a half, Marisol felt like his ejaculation was imminent, so she stopped to take a final deep breath, and that’s when she heard the familiar nerve-grating sound of tapped keys.
“No phone!”
“We haven’t even started! I’ll put it away after,” Archie replied in his whiniest tone.
“No, you never put it away after. If you don’t give me your phone, I’m not finishing your hotdog.”
“Why are you such a Karen today?”
Marisol rose to her feet in protest, leaving Archie’s cock cold and twitching. A shiver tickled her spine from the sticky mix of precum and spit between her breasts. A young woman who cares about your grades and spends all day sucking your dick is not a “Karen” just because she has a few reasonable requests.
“Alright, no phone,” Archie relented, but his smile forewarned of a but. “But, no clothes.”
“What?”
“You’re always the one bitching about compromises. I give up my phone. You give up your clothes.”
“Phone first.”
“Clothes first.”
“Phone first.”
Archie’s smile dueled with Marisol’s scowl. Was there a difference between standing her ground and wasting precious time? The pragmatic girl kept her scowl but eventually started shaking her head. Then she stripped.
Marisol turned around, clinging to her last shreds of privacy while she could afford them. She took off her camisole, which she assumed would not be such a big deal considering how skimpy it already was. But having her pink areolas out and about brought a new dimension of embarrassment discomfort.
The easy part had been mentally difficult. The hard part was near impossible. Marisol’s hands shook as she pulled down her pants, and she caught herself crying for the first time since the start of her tutelage. The weight of all the little compromises finally dropping like her jeans on the floor.
“Nice ass,” Archie commented, completely oblivious or insensitive to Marisol’s quiet sobs. “I thought you were too skinny to have a really nice ass. Can I touch it?”
“No, you can’t touch it!” Nothing like anger to quell an existential crisis. Marisol swung around to deny him the sight of her butt and accidentally gave him an eyeful of her dancing breasts before she cradled them in her arms. Containing all of the overflowing chest meat and her hiding her smooth pussy behind a hand proved an impossible task. She gave up the sight of her tight-lipped vulva and thigh-gap to request the phone with the palm of a hand.
Archie presented his phone to her without extending his arm, compelling a few naked steps to snatch it. He playfully held on to force his tutor to wrestle it away with both hands, enjoying a nice close-up of her bouncing free breasts as she struggled.
When it was finally in her possession, Marisol wrapped the phone in the bundle of her discarded clothes, making sure not to give Archie too much to ogle at as she bent down. From his smile, she reckoned it was still too much bending.
“OK, let’s get started.” Marisol composed herself and forced her hands away from her wobbly bits. “We have to cram all weekend for this history exam.”
“Hehe, cram.”
“We’re going to read chapter 4 together. Then…”
“Hold on. You didn’t finish my hotdog.”
“I got naked for you, Archie!” Marisol spread her arms and legs in frustration for her pupil to drink it all in. She immediately hushed her outburst, realizing someone in the hallway could have heard this damning phrase.
“That doesn’t help me focus. I have…”
“You have ADHD, I know,” Marisol muttered along with some intelligible curses as she returned to her knees to start the titty wank over from the beginning. The cock between her breasts felt warmer because of the relative coldness of her naked body. Another wasted ten minutes later, Archie came into her mouth and watched her swallow the babies with a lot of attention for someone with an attention deficit disorder. Marisol sucked the urethra bone-dry so that Archie had no reason to complain for at least fifteen minutes.
Outside the extra discomfort of nudity, the rest of the afternoon went as smoothly as Marisol could expect. Reading a chapter required a reward. Every attempt at a comprehension quiz required motivation. Every almost-correct, coached answer required another reward. Marisol was nauseous from all the ingested cum, and her jaw was sore, but she glimpsed a universe where Archie had a chance to pass Monday’s exam the way buying a lottery ticket gave you a chance at the jackpot. And that was only if they worked even harder tomorrow.
With hands behind her back, covering the butt Archie was doubtlessly watching, cock in hand, Marisol walked to her pile of clothes. Her hands shook with a yearning for dignity as she dug for panties.
“Oh, I just remembered something.” Archie’s memory only worked on things that were already too late. “My history teacher said if I don’t give him all the homework I owe him by Monday, he’s not gonna let me do the exam.”
“What? You never mentioned history homework?!” Marisol wished she had gotten dressed before hearing this.
“I have ADHD. How am I supposed to keep track of all that stuff? He gave me this.” Archie handed Marisol a crumpled paper ball that once was an official list. “The guy’s so old he wants everything on paper.”
“There’s a year’s worth of homework here! You had to write a short essay every week.”
“I know, right. It suuuucks. Can you just do it for me?”
Buck-naked in her pupil’s bedroom, the moral high ground seemed out of reach at the moment. To get that speck of a chance of getting paid, of getting a positive reference, of not setting her entire career back a whole year, it had come to cheating.
“Alright, give me your chair. I’m going to need to work all night on this.”
Archie swiveled left and right, but his butt stayed put in his chair.
“Here’s your phone back. Do anything you want as long as you stay in your room so your mom doesn’t wonder why I’m alone in here.”
“Anything I want?…”
Marisol’s shoulders slumped. She was too tired for angry arguments after such a long, cum-filled day. “I can’t give you blowies while writing essays. I need to see what I’m doing.”
Archie kept smiling and swiveling.
A teacher-student relationship is full of little compromises. That is why, after ten minutes of one-sided bargaining, Marisol bent over Archie’s essay, groaning and sucking air through her teeth. His cock pounded her virgin ass with such carelessness, her dangling breasts slapped against the side of his desk with each sweaty thrust of his crotch.
You couldn’t trust Archie to use protection, let alone correctly, and the thought of cursing the universe with a baby Archie was too horrifying to contemplate. An anal marathon somehow ended up as a compromise between ‘let me fuck you all night’ and ‘that’s never going to happen’.
There were unforeseen advantages. Exhaustion and suffering worked in Marisol’s favor when it came to mimicking Archie’s unpracticed handwriting and nonsensical reasoning. At least when he would inevitably fail his exam and get her fired, Marisol would know she had given it her all.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/vzonrk/handson_tutoring_mf_nc_coercion_humiliation