"I've been meaning to ask you for a favour."
I turned and looked at Ms Ball. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders and around her bare breasts as she lay in the bed next to me, the covers up to our waists and my arm around her. Although sleeping with a teacher would in most cases be remarkable, Ms Ball wasn't strictly speaking my teacher. True, she taught at the school I attended, but I wasn't actually in any of her classes.
"Oh?"
Ms Ball ran her hand soothingly through my chest hair. "There's a girl in my class. Emma. She's a new student. I don't suppose you know her?"
I had indeed seen Emma around school. A few weeks ago I was climbing the stairs to my first English class of the term when I found myself staring at the backside of a tall girl with long black hair. Her navy blue slacks were stretched taut across her sizeable buttocks and clung to her chubby curves. Those curves continued around the front, where she sported what may have been the largest pair of breasts in the entire school. Forget the hourglass figure, I thought, as I longed to run my hands over Emma's generous frame. The pale skin of her wide, pretty face was accentuated by her black lipstick, and she had a cute smile that caused her to squint.
"I've seen her about. Why?"
"She's a military brat. Her dad's stationed at the base. They move a lot, and her education has been ... disrupted, for want of a better word. But this will be her last school before she graduates."
"Right." I wondered where this was leading.
"However, if she doesn't want to be here next year, she'll need some help to pass her exams. I spoke to Mr Merchant. He said you're the top of your English class, and that you could afford to miss a couple of lessons β"
"You want me to tutor her?"
"I was hoping you would."
"What's in it for me?" I gently caressed her breast.
"Maybe Emma will show her appreciation."
"She does have a nice arse."
"Trust you to notice. Well, at least she's not a teacher."
"Oh, I don't know. I think teachers might be my type."
Ms Ball looked at me inquisitorially. "I'm not your first, am I?" She wasn't angry or jealous or upset. She seemed playfully curious, like a kitten. "Who was it?"
I kept my mouth shut. I wasn't going to betray Ms O'Morin.
"Never mind."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"I can guess," Ms Ball continued. I shook my head dismissively. "Probably someone on the younger side."
I held my tongue, thinking about Ms Mannall, my former art teacher from primary school.
"I don't think I've met all the teachers, but Amelia β that is, Ms Webster β isn't much older than me. Naomi β I mean, Ms Salmon β is almost thirty. Oh, and then there's that blonde PE teacher. Ms James?" She watched me intently. "I'll get there eventually. Ms Williams is about my age. No, not her either apparently."
My face was getting warmer under her intense scrutiny. It occurred to me that I could simply take her into my confidence. After all, we were so close that I'd been inside her. But she seemed to be enjoying the guessing game.
"Ms Bradt looks younger than she is, but she's pregnant, so I doubt it's her. Unless you're the father." She paused, then added "only teasing!" when she saw the look on my face. "Hmm, that doesn't leave many. Ms O'Morin? Aha!"
I've never taken female intuition seriously, but to this day I cannot work out what gave me away.
"No way! You did it with Kathryn? What was that like?"
"She, inexperienced, nervous."
"You or her?"
"Both, I guess. She got into it eventually though."
"I don't think she's had a boyfriend for a while."
I turned and looked her square in the eyes. "You can't tell anyone."
"Don't worry, it'll just be another of our secrets." Her face was reassuringly earnest. "Maybe I could arrange a threesome." Her mouth formed an impish grin.
"If you're going to go to that trouble, why not get one of the others? I wouldn't mind trying someone new."
"Even Ms Bradt?"
"If her husband doesn't object."
Our eyes met and we laughed.
"So, you'll tutor Emma then?" Ms Ball asked, her hand venturing south and toying with my cock.
"How could I say no to you?"
***
"Meet your tutor," Ms Ball said when we met outside her class on Monday afternoon. "If he can pick his jaw up from off the floor."
I blushed, slightly annoyed at Ms Ball's teasing, but extended my hand. "Hi."
"Hey," Emma said. Her hand was soft.
"I've arranged for you to use a senior study room during some of your English classes," Ms Ball explained. "I think two sessions a week will be enough for you to get up to speed by the end of the term, Emma, so how about you do that instead of the Monday and Friday classes? That still leaves three regular lessons."
"Sounds good," Emma said. I nodded in agreement.
Ms Ball turned to me. "Why don't you use what's left of this afternoon's lesson to brief Emma on what we've covered so far this year?"
"Sure. Which study room did you book?"
"The next one down there." Ms Ball motioned in the opposite direction of Mr Merchant's room. I'd been deliberately avoiding that study room because it was where Courtney and I had spent time together at the start of the year, but I was surprised to find that the pangs of heartbreak weren't as bad anymore. Time does heal all wounds, I thought.