I'm a 37 year old office worker by day, and a maths tutor by night. I prefer my evening job: it supplements my income and I find it rewarding helping students learn in the run up to their A Levels. I teach 18 year olds, who tend to want to learn quickly.
I work most evenings, particularly at this time of year, with A Levels just a couple of months away. Last week I got a new enquiry from a mum who lives two streets away. Her son urgently needed help, could I start next week? Although I'm busy, I need the cash, so I agreed. She told me her son was a shy boy who needed some guidance and confidence.
Today is our first session. I turned up at the house and knocked on the door. A flustered looking woman opened it and greeted me with a grateful smile. "SAM!" she yelled up the stairs, ushering me in from the cold. "YOUR TUTOR IS HERE!"
Something happened when he walked down those stairs; something that had never happened before. My stomach flipped over. Unlike the usual gawky, spotty teenagers I'd been accustomed to, Sam was a towering, handsome young man with a shy smile and glittering eyes. His skin was perfect. He smelt amazing. I faltered for a moment before coming to my senses and putting my hand out.
"Nice to meet you, Sam," I said, shaking his hand. "Where would you like our sessions to be?" His mum looked around the cluttered hallway. "I think your room is best, Sam," she interjected. "I hope that's okay?" she asked me. "Absolutely," I replied, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.
I followed him up two flights of stairs to the top of the house, inwardly cursing myself for watching his ass as he climbed. He was a perfect specimen of a man. I had to get a hold of myself. He was 18 for crying out loud.
His room was tidier than expected but had the unmistakable smell of a teenage boy. He quickly moved to the bed and pushed something under his pillow, his face flushed. Too late, I'd seen the magazine and the page it was opened on: a huge pair of tits. I looked away to spare him his blushes, and walked to the desk at the window. "Here?" I asked. He nodded, his face still pink.
The desk was small, and the two chairs were crammed next to each other, leaving no space between them. I had come straight from the office so was in a tight black pencil dress, making it tricky to manoeuvre myself in without it riding up my thighs. He stood still for a moment, watching, then quickly squeezed in next to me.
Sessions tend to go quickly, but our hour together seemed to last forever. We were so close I could feel the warmth of his skin next to mine and smell his aftershave. It was almost impossible to teach, but somehow I managed it.