Time stops for Dave as a flashback of the day he met Rachel fills his mind.
.................................................................................
Sandy said, "I've got a friend, who needs help with statistics."
"Who? Not Lindy, I hope. The only number she knows is 69."
Giggling, Sandy continued, "No. You haven't met her yet. Her name is, Rachel. I was on her softball team."
Sandy isn't into formal education, but she studies her friends. She knows their wants and needs enough to make good connections. Enough to put Dave and his BS in industrial engineering with lots of statistics to work as a tutor for Rachel. Enough to think they would like each other. Enough to know her horny little friend would like the guy Sandy finds sexy, but cannot have. The thought of them together crinkles her aureoles.
Dave couldn't say no to Sandy, couldn't say no to most any woman.
The first tutoring session was in January before Sandy left for Mexico. Assured he is a good guy by Sandy, Rachel felt safe in coming to Dave's house.
Rachel trudged through the cold and snow to her first tutorial wrapped to the eyes. Answering her knock he opened the door. Two big brown eyes peeked between the collars of a big pea-coat, under a toboggan hat and over scarf wrapped face.
"Hi, You must be Rachel. I'm Dave. Come on in, get warmed up." He rushed her inside.
Pealing off fat knit mittens then layers of wrap, Rachel emerged from the bulky outerwear to be a tiny little snake hip farm girl shaking out a big shoulder length mop of curly auburn hair. Big brown eyes dominate a very pretty face brightened by a great big smile.
Under her coat, she wears a tight long sleeved western style shirt with pearl-snap-buttons, tight boot-cut jeans and worn western boots. A regular sweet-heart of the rodeo.
Did we mention Tiny? Maybe a little over 5' in her boots and 100 pounds dripping wet in heavy clothes. Tiny and thin she might be, but there is no doubt she is a very sexy woman. That shirt is tailor cut to feature the twin curves of her prominent breasts.
Dave was gobsmacked. Sandy didn't say she was pretty or sexy. Fuck! She is fantastic.
Turning to hang her coat on a peg he looks away trying to recover his power of speech.
She takes a better look at him as he turns. She can see the strength in his arms. Wide shoulders taper to a tight butt. She thinks his long blond hair is kind of hippie but he doesn't seem like the hippie goofs she has met around campus.
He turns with a smile, inviting her into the kitchen, offering up some good coffee. Rachel sits at the kitchen table spreading out her book and papers while Dave paces.
"So, tell me about yourself. What stat class are you taking? What do you need help with?"
"I'm a sophomore in Ag Engineering and taking Stat 121. I'm having some problems with the homework. I missed one."
"Missed a homework?"
"Nope, missed a problem. It's time for a tutor. I've got a 4.0."
"Oh boy. This could get intense. I don't have a 4.0. You OK with that?"
He can see her knee hopping as she bounces her foot on a pointed toe. She sits straight up in the chair not resting against the back at all. He wonders if she is this wound up all the time. She reminds him of a hummingbird.
He wonders, does she know she is beautiful? She doesn't wear makeup or girly clothes. Strange how many smart naturally beautiful women seem insecure.
"Let's do that homework set and see what the issue is, OK?"
As she works through the missed homework problem he sits beside her watching her work. Mostly just looking at her, she is way too distracting. Finally looking at the paper, he shakes himself out of his infatuated trance to say, "Umm, have you seen this?" as he sketches a graph on a scrap paper. "This is the area of probability we are looking for. So you basically have to subtract both of the two little tails from the total. You just did one."
He writes the equation on the scratch paper to complete the explanation. As he writes, she is shocked to see, his hands are more than twice the size of hers. The pencil looks tiny in his hand. She can see calluses and cuts on his fingers. These hands are no stranger to work. They look like farmers hands.
She can sense his body, so close to hers, leaning in, as he writes.
Just as she leans to touch him, his voice brings her back to the stat problems, "Do the next one."
"That one wasn't the assignment." She finds herself strangely warm, hearing him tell her what to do.
"Yeah, but it is similar, see if you get it. Don't skip any steps, show all the algebra. I think you did the one you missed in your head. It's easy to skip something that way without realizing it. Us dummy engineers have to work things out methodically."
Now that strange warm sensation is making her ears all hot and itchy. He sits very close watching her work the next problem. She gets the right numeric answer.
He says, "I think you got it." his voice all sweet and low seems to rumble through her body.
She feels a glow of satisfaction embrace her like a warm fuzzy blanket as she starts on the next without prompting. Or maybe it is him sitting so close. The hair on her arms is all standing on end. Now she feels sensitive inside her clothes like they suddenly got too tight.
Despite the distractions she gets the problem solved correctly.
"OK, now you're rolling, do the last one. It's a little different." She looks up a moment, then smiling, dives right in. She works the algebra smoothly and quickly like writing a sentence.
Dave stands to her side as she completes the last problem. As she bends over the paper, he takes peaks down the collar opening of her shirt. She is a wiry little bit of a woman. Not skinny or anorexic, just small with toned muscles. Down her shirtfront he can't see much skin but he likes the shape of her boobs. They stand high on her chest with just a hint of nipple showing through the shirt. He takes another peek down into her dark cleavage. Her western cut shirt fits her curves tightly.
"Jesus" he thinks to himself, "Don't get caught looking."
