Calling for the Tutor

Sophia Lia did not get much sleep… or any, for that matter.

She had watched with morbid fascination as her reputation disintegrated online and in the news. Cable news channels ran stories about her; copies of her antics ran amok on streaming services online; e-mails calling her a whore, Jezebel, and corrupt woman flooded the inbox advertised on her online curriculum vitae. Everyone acknowledged she ought to keep teaching, of course, but none accepted that this shameful performance ought to occur before “the children” nor that she should not be judged for committing it. The absurdity of this disposition was mostly lost on Ms. Lia, of course; she was as unaware as the witnesses. But it still caused her no short amount of distress to see all she worked for being burned down to a single label:

Pervert.

She had strived so long to avoid gaudy appearances only to have her breasts outgrow so many clothes she could no longer wear. She perfected her walk, speech, and habits all to avoid bringing attention to her sexual body. She was an Ivy League graduate who outgrew her income from the trust fund, she became known for her strict curriculum, and she had made enough HR complaints to discipline the male gaze of her co-workers. Ms. Lia had, in her own mind, accomplished her goal of not only seeming normal, but in desaturating all perception of her as a sexual being. She had done it!

And it had been undone in a week’s time.

Now in the ruins of her reputation, Sophia remained awake with bags under her eyes at 7:34AM. She got so little sleep, barely an hour, amid her fits and stops. Her eyes were red from crying. The agents of the media had vanished with the night, but she couldn't help but suspect her curtains hid some lurking remainder, hoping for a picture or a moan to report. Her phone had been put on silent for all messages received from non-contacts. She had to ever since someone leaked her contact info to the press. Sitting at her streaming computer, she just read on and on as the news articles peeled her life open for everyone to see… to gawk… at what she once believed was private and judge her morality for it.

Another text message… finally from a source labeled in her contacts. Her own parents didn’t bother contacting her; they probably had not caught the news yet. None of the staff tried calling her in solidarity, either. But one voice known to her did finally try to touch this trembling, despairing figure… and her trembling did not cease once she realized who it was…

DAVID HAINES: Come over to my house. [Maps Location Attached].

Her nipples hardened over the hem of her ill-worn bathrobe at the knowledge of what was to come from her… student. Her mind almost used another label, so wretchedly indebted she was, but she managed to stave that off for now. How could she respond? She didn’t dare say no, not when she owes him thousands of orgasms. What did she have to do in the alternative, now that school was out? She hadn’t assigned a single paper all last week or this week due to her condition. As Ms. Lia ran out of excuses to disobey, she slowly rose, already wet in anticipation, and began to change into her sheerest shirt and shortest skirt to ready herself for David’s attentions.

Why bring nice clothes to see him, after all?

8:01AM, The Haines Residence

"We have to get you cleaned up before Ms. Lia gets here, Alice." My words are grunted with every thrust, which probably marks how much I actually care about cleaning up my soiled little sister as we share her standing shower. As my pelvis slams into her ass with every thrust into her cum-filled pussy, I watch the hot water stream down her back and into her ass crack, washing bits of my cum off my cock as I excavate my seed out of her slick birth canal. Most of her back isn't visible to me, though, since I've got her hair held taut to arch her back and **** her to face the shower. With eyes closed in both orgasmic bliss and in the lightest waterboarding, she offered no coherent complaints and gripped my cock with a ferocity that her **** muscles must be struggling to commit. Since the water partially dissolves the lubricating effects of our respective fluids, this ultimately means I feel every constricting inch of her vagina as I continue to pummel her insides.

Her body shakes with every thrust now, and I finally change my grip on her hair to guide her to turn. Letting my near-coming cock slip from her, I **** her to her knees and guide her head to my cock, which she does with surprisingly natural ease. She moans on my dick as I continue to clench her hair and fuck her lips and tongue, lasting only three thrusts before every pump thereafter blasts my seed into the back of her throat. She gags and coughs, but for her sake she finally begins to swallow the load until my still-hard cock is withdrawn mostly clean. She takes another breath before lovingly tonguing the tip of my dick and cleaning its length with her tongue, her eyes looking up at me in some crazy mixture of fear and lust.

My phone rings; a text message. "Let's wrap this up... Ms. Lia is waiting for us."

"Sophia... so glad you could join us."

I can't imagine what's going through my English teacher's mind as her body begins to activate in my presence. My aura only mildly arouses, sure, but Ms. Lia has more triggers than most, and her nipples are already pointed and out as they rest on the hem of her top. She seems fearful, and then shocked, as she realizes that my words mean we're not alone. "W-Who else is here? Somehow I avoided being spotted," she whispers as she rushes into my home to avoid witnesses, "but if you think I'm going to-"

"AAaha!" I close and lock the door just as Ms. Lia's recorded moan from the TV cuts the present Ms. Lia's warning off.

"Oh God..." Another moan, this one live, issues from Alice: she sits on the floor with her head and shoulders resting against the couch, her hands busy between her legs as the audio from both the moaning and complaining Sophias drive her further into her exhausted, sex-crazed state. I had to carry her here, of course, after the shower: I don't think she's used to being fucked and toyed with for almost 90 minutes straight, not even with her lesbian lovers. Hell, I sure wouldn't if not for Sexual Healing, but I guess I'd be testing the stamina of each of my Girls from now on. Strange, though, is that she's this tired: her muscles are basically jelly, but isn't the health protection supposed to keep her safe? Maybe it only steps in when she's actually in danger... hmm. I'll have to test that further.

Of course, it wouldn't help if I tried explaining any of that to the horrified teacher in our presence.