Tutoring Session

This was a hard one to place. If you read it, you'll understand why. This is a long story and patience is required. I think you'll be rewarded if you stick around. Hope you enjoy, Randi

*****

I was in my last semester studying electronic engineering at Berkley and it had been a tough three years. I'm not really your typical nerd, but I fit a lot of the profile. The only difference was I was there on a football scholarship. I was pretty good in high school but not so good in college. I had good instincts and I was strong, but I was a step slow. I played middle linebacker and I was second string, but no NFL contract was in my future. I really didn't want one anyway. I had absolutely no aspirations for that. Football was a way to pay for college and that was it. I spent as little time on it as I could get away with, and spent most of my time trying to graduate at the top of the engineering school. I didn't get to the top, but I was close. My mom didn't make nearly enough as an RN to send me to Berkley and my sister to Carnegie Mellon, but grants, scholarships and working as a tutor every spare minute I had kept me in school.

I was about half-way through that last semester when I saw my advisor hurrying after me down the hall. "Dray, wait up for a minute," she called.

I stopped and waited for her to catch up. "Hey, Dr. Beiler, what's up?" I asked.

"Dray, I need to talk to you for a minute," she panted as she came up. "Do you have any tutoring openings?"

"Well, yeah; one of my guys flunked out last week. His parents pulled him out. He seemed to be more interested in partying, anyway. I guess that doesn't make you very confident in my tutoring abilities, does it?" I laughed.

"Don't be silly," she said. "I know how smart you are. I know you better than my own kids. I have a student that needs some help with her advanced math course. You can do this stuff in your sleep. In fact, I suspect you did the last class you took from me in your sleep. Can you fit her in?"

"Sure, anything for you, Doc," I told her. "Have her give me a call or drop by the tutoring center on Thursday."

I didn't think much more about it for a week and I had forgotten about it until Thursday. My phone rang and I didn't recognize the number. I don't answer calls from people I don't know. I hate to talk on the phone. My iPhone buzzed that I had a voice mail. I listened to it and an angry female voice reminded me that I was supposed to meet her at the center. Hell! I had forgotten.

I hurried over and got the shock of my life. Gloria Willis was leaning against a partition and she wasn't happy. I had never spoken to her, but I knew who she was. Everyone knew who she was. She was everyone's wet dream. She was this spectacular redhead. Her hair was this flaming mane that made you want to reach out and touch it to see if it gave off heat. It was down to the middle of her back and it bounced when she moved like it was in slow motion. She had the most amazing bright blue eyes you've ever seen and this clear milky skin that looked like it was translucent. A patrician nose, high cheekbones, a cupid's-bow mouth and a little pointed chin made a face that Titian would have died to paint. Then there was the rest of her.

She oozed sensuality. She had huge round breasts that looked like they were about to destroy her bra at every step. Her waist was small enough that it looked like you could span it with your hands and then she swelled out into wide hips and the roundest jiggliest ass that could be imagined. She was the person that every girl wanted to be and every guy wanted to possess. If you were interested in being popular and sought after, all channels went through her. She dated only the star athletes and top rich playboys on campus. She was constantly surrounded by a court of admirers and she looked like a queen with her royal retinue around her. Now she was someone I was supposed to tutor and she wasn't happy with me. Those blue eyes were ice cold and the look she gave me would have frozen polar bears.

"Miss Willis, I'm Dray Cabot," I said. "I'm sorry; I thought you were going to call if you needed help,"

"That wasn't my understanding," she said. "Can we just get started?"

I sat down at the table and asked to see her assignment. I started to explain it and when I asked her some questions I could tell right away she didn't have a clue.

"Have you been going to class?" I asked her.

"Yes, but it's just before lunch and I get a lot of DMs," she said.

She reached out and touched my hand. It felt like I had been tazered. Her hand was burning hot on mine. She gazed into my eyes and I felt like I was melting. "Dray, wouldn't it be easier if you just did the assignments?" she asked. My underwear were killing me.

"What the hell? Yes, that would be easier, but it wouldn't help you at all," I told her. "That's not what I'm here for. I don't do assignments. If you want me to help you, I'm in. If you're just here to try to scam me into doing your assignments for you by batting your eyes at me, I'll ask Dr. Beiler to get you someone that gives a rat's ass." I pulled my hand away.

She stared at me in shock for a minute and then just got up and walked out. I guess she must have had a novel experience. Maybe she was used to putting her spell on people and getting them to do whatever she wanted. She could probably have done that to me, too, except I knew those big blue eyes weren't for me and that hot little hand was just an empty promise on mine. She was so far out of my league she might as well have been on the moon, and I resented her trying to manipulate me like that. I had her in a dozen classes down through our time at Berkley and she had never even so much as looked at me before. I got up and went back to the dorm in disgust. I had forgotten all about the incident the next day at lunch. I was working on a project on my laptop and eating a Chick-fil-A sandwich at a table by myself. I felt a shadow fall across the table and I looked up. It was her!

Shit, I thought to myself. Here we go again. I closed my laptop, wrapped my sandwich up and stood up. I was walking away when I noticed she was following me.

"Look, Miss Willis," I said. "I don't know what you're selling today, but I don't want any. Isn't there some quarterback waiting for you somewhere?"

Those huge blue eyes filled with tears and became liquid pools. I felt like a real asshole for a minute. Then I remembered who this was and I turned away again.

"Why don't you like me?" I heard the sob from behind me.

"What?" I could hardly believe my ears. I turned around and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Jesus, this girl was good!

"Why do you hate me?" she asked. "You don't even know me. Why are you being so mean to me?"

"I know this must be a new concept for you, Miss Willis, but some of us are here to actually learn something," I said. "Some of us actually plan to get a job by studying hard and making grades. Some of us don't give a crap who you are or who you date or whether or not we're going to all the Greek parties. You wasted my time. Do you know how I buy shoes? I do it by tutoring people who want my help. I'm not some frat boy. I'm not some football player that wants to be seen with you on his arm. Do you understand?"

"That's not true, you are a football player," she said. "What makes you think I'm not serious about my education? What makes you think I'm just some bimbo that parties all the time?"

I guess she had a point. "Okay, I'm a football player. I don't know you, but what you suggested last night, putting your hand on mine, asking me to do your assignment; that's bullshit, Miss Willis."

"My name is Gloria," she said. "I'm sorry I asked you to do my assignments. Will you give me another chance?"

I was royally pissed off, but she had a point. "What, exactly, do you mean by another chance?"

"I want you to tutor me."

"Okay, but no more bullshit," I said.

"No more bullshit," she agreed.

"I'll meet you in the tutoring center at seven," I told her.

"I was hoping you'd come to my apartment," she said. "I hate that center. I feel stupid going there. It's like I'm some dummy you're teaching to count."

"Okay, but you'll have to pay for my time going and coming," I told her.

She agreed and gave me the address. "I promise you won't regret it," she said.

When I got to her place I was surprised. She lived in a huge apartment. She had three roommates and the place had four bedrooms, a huge living room and a really nice kitchen. Two of the roommates were there and she introduced me. There was a tall sultry blonde named Rhonda and a tiny little oriental girl named Tina. Gloria told me the other roommate was a guy named Tim and he had a night class. She ran the other two girls off and got out her books. I sat on the sofa and she came and sat beside me, putting her books on the coffee table and pulling it close so we could work. She really didn't have a clue what was going on and we had to go way back in the book to get to something she understood. I started catching her up and she amazed me. This girl was scary smart. If she had paid attention at all in class she would have all this stuff wrapped up. I would get half way through explaining something and she would pick up her pencil and finish it.

Advanced math; calculus and trigonometry, is mostly formulas and knowing the right formula to apply to a particular problem. She picked it up quickly and we caught up on two weeks' worth of stuff in one night. We worked until nine-thirty and we called it a night. She sat back on the sofa and stretched. Something hit me on the cheek and fell to the floor. I looked down and it was a button. I glanced at her and noticed the third button on her shirt had popped off. Her shirt was so tightly stretched across her amazing chest that the thread had snapped and I could see her white bra through the gap in her shirt. She hadn't noticed and when she leaned back down I picked the button up and handed it to her. She looked at it and giggled. That giggle made me very uncomfortable because my cock started to become uncomfortable in my pants. She smelled good, too. It was one of those Chanel scents and it fit her perfectly.

"Dray, do you have anything tomorrow?" she asked as she walked me to the door.

"Yes, I'm working from after I get out of practice at six, until nine," I told her.

"I'll pick you up at nine," she said.

"What for?" I asked.

"I'm taking you to The Cellar for pizza and a beer," she said. "They have a wood fired pizza oven and it's really good."

I didn't know what to say about that. "What... "

"Wear a shirt with a collar," she cut me off and shut the door.

I had no idea what this was about. She must have something in mind, but I couldn't imagine what it was. I was already tutoring her, so she obviously wasn't trying to get it for free since she had plenty of money. It was too deep a game for me, so I just decided to go along for the ride. My mind wandered in class the next day. It was Friday and I decided to skip my last class. I went to practice and dealt with the assholes there. For some reason, a lot of football players are huge douche bags. I guess it comes with the "high school hero" thing. The first string guys were usually pretty cool, but the upperclassmen that hadn't made first string were total tools. They made life as miserable as possible for the guys who were lower on the depth chart. There was one in particular, a jerk named Chance Chapman, whom I hated with a passion. He was the second string tight end, and he was always mouthing off to someone. He caught me on a bad day.

I was getting a drink and he turned off the pump. I flipped it back on and he did it again. I flipped it back on and stood in front of the switch so he couldn't get to it. He laughed and said something about nerds and engineers. I smiled and trotted back out on the field. The next play they called was a spider three Y banana, and he came across under the coverage. The quarterback hit him and I was waiting. I lit him up like a Christmas tree. I heard ribs cracking and I power slammed him, driving my shoulder into those broken ribs. He screamed and went out like a candle. The tight ends coach came running over screaming at me. "You son-of-a... "

I reached out and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. "Go ahead, finish that," I growled. His mouth opened and closed a few times and I shoved him away. I knew he didn't want to fuck with me. I was the second strongest guy on the whole team, and the other guy weighed 360 pounds. I'm pretty easy going, but no one with any sense wanted to piss me off. I could bench 225 pounds more than twenty-five times. They carried Chapman off on a stretcher and practice was over.

I had a freshman to tutor and I skipped supper. She was a cute little blonde named Alicia, and she was as smart as a whip. She didn't take many advanced science classes in high school, and she was struggling a little. She was going to be fine. I went back to the dorm and put on khakis and a polo shirt. I drank a bottle of some piss tasting sports drink and my phone buzzed. It was Gloria. "I'm outside," she texted.

I went down and she was sitting there in a bright yellow Jeep Wrangler. It was sharp. I'm glad she didn't ask me to drive. My 1969 Charger RT with the 426 Hemi ran and sounded great, but the interior and the paint were a little rough. I figured it was a small price to pay to drive my dream car. I climbed into the Wrangler and she was bouncing to Robert Palmer's "Simply Irresistible."

"Hey, Dray," she giggled. "That rhymes. You ready for some fun?"

"I don't know," I said. "Is this going to be fun for me?"

"Of course it is; you're with me, babe." She laughed and we spun out of the lot. She had the top off and that mane of red hair flipped in the wind as I grabbed the handle and held on. She drove way too fast, and I was a wreck when we pulled up at The Cellar. It really was in the basement and there was a really good smell wafting up the stairs along with the heavy bass beat of George Michael's "Faith" greeting us. She had grabbed me by the hand and she held on as we went in. There was a lined bar on the right past a group of those tall tables with bar stools on the left. There were half dozen booths in the back and she led me back to the only empty booth. Every head in the room turned to watch her and she threw back her hair and laughed up at me as we walked through the drool coming from the guys at the bar. She was smoking hot and she knew it. I had never seen a woman as sexually attractive as she was with all those eyes on her. I just felt like a fool. What was I doing there?

She motioned to a waitress and she came over. "What kind of beer do you drink, Dray?" she asked. "It's on me."

"Do you have Waldhaus Jubiläums Dunkel?" I asked the waitress.

"No, I don't think so," she said. "Isn't that a dark lager?"

I was impressed. "Yeah, just match that as close as you can," I told her.

"How about a St. Pauli Girl Special Dark?" she asked.

I nodded and she brought us two. "This is good, Dray," Gloria told me. "How did you get that name? I've never heard it before."

"My dad was a fan of obscure Science Fiction," I told her. "He read a series of books over and over and the main character's name was Dray. Why are we here, Gloria? What's going on? Are you trying to make someone jealous? Are you playing some kind of game with me?"

She looked hurt. "Jesus Christ, Dray, stop being such a prick. I want to get to know you. Why do you act like that's a crime?"

"Why? That's what I want to know. Why do you want to get to know me?"

She looked at me speculatively. "I don't really know. There's something about you. I've seen you around. I know we've had classes together and you've never spoken to me once. I'm curious. Is there something about me you don't like? Do you have something against gingers? Are you gay? Every guy I've ever met can't take their eyes off me, but you just act like I don't exist. Why is that? I wanted to ask you those questions, so I asked you out. You obviously weren't going to ask me, even when I put on that show with the button thing last night."

I laughed. "I don't think you quite asked me out, Gloria. It's more like you gave me orders, and I thought the button thing was an accident. You're a piece of work, kiddo."

"Ooh, I like pet names," she smiled up at me. "So, are you going to answer me?"

The waitress saved me by taking our order. We ordered our pizza and some wings and she went away. Gloria just looked up at me with those amazing eyes and waited expectantly.

"I'm not a masochist," I told her. "I don't tilt at windmills and I don't ask girls out who I don't think I have any chance of actually succeeding with. I don't know you, but I know about you. Everyone on campus knows about you."

"They don't know shit." Her eyes were flashing now. "Neither do you. What makes you think I wouldn't go out with you if you asked me?"

"Well, look at you," I said. "I know my limitations."

"That's just the problem with you and all the guys like you," she said. "You just look at me. That's all anyone ever does. They see my tits and my face and my ass and they never see anything else. The jocks and rich kids think I'm some kind of trophy. All they want is a fuck toy. The ordinary guys think I'm unapproachable and never ask me. I would have gone out with you in a heartbeat if you had ever asked me."

I knew my mouth was hanging open. I still wondered if she was playing some sort of game with me. Finally I collected my wits enough to speak. "I apologize, Gloria. You've got me pegged. I always saw you with some dickhead playboy or Greek president or big name jock and I just assumed that's the kind of guy you preferred."

She snorted. "That's the only kind of guys who ask me or talk to me. I'm more than tits, Dray."

"I know that," I said. "You're very smart. I suspect you did very well on the SAT, didn't you?"

"It was nearly 2000," she said.

"I figured as much. I could tell the way you were chewing up that math. What's your major?"

"It's biochemistry," she said. "I'm going to be an anesthesiologist."

"So, you're going to give people so many drugs they pass out?" I asked.

She laughed. "I guess that's one way of looking at it. What about you, Dray?"

"I'm an electronics engineer, or I will be when I graduate. I already have a job lined up in Austin, TX, working for a big aerospace company. I get my signing bonus in two weeks. Say, Gloria; would you like to go out with me and celebrate?"

She scooted over closer to me and held my arm. One of those big, round breasts was pressed against my arm and my underwear needed adjusting. "I'd like that a lot," she said.

Our wings came and we chatted like old friends while we ate. The pizza was as good as she promised and about halfway through she waved at someone who came in. It turned out to be her roommate Tim. He came over and sat across from me. Gloria introduced us and he shook my hand.

"Glad to meet you," he said. "I've been hearing all about you since last night. Gloria hasn't talked about anything else. I'm jealous."

"Are you two...? "

Gloria laughed. "No, silly; he's jealous of me. Tim's gay, in case you haven't noticed."

I choked a little on my beer and she frowned. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all," I said when I could speak. "He can be anything he wants to be. I don't give a damn. I'm not gay and as long as no one has a problem with that, we'll get along fine."

"Not even curious?" Tim smirked at me.

"Not even a little," I said. "I like gorgeous little Titian haired girls."

Gloria beamed up at me. "I know what that means," she said.

"I don't," Tim said. "What does that mean?"

"There was an Italian painter named Titian who painted women with red hair. That's where the name came from," I told him. "I'm surprised Gloria knows."