Wait at the front door

You decide to wait patiently at the front door, hoping someone will eventually answer. Leaning against the doorframe, you feel a sense of unease settling over you as the minutes tick by. There's a chill in the air that has nothing to do with the autumn breeze outside.

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally creaks open, just slightly revealing Mrs. Kim standing inside. Her expression is cool and distant, devoid of the warmth you had hoped to find, but her outfit does nothing to hide her voluptuous older woman body.

"John," she says curtly, her voice lacking any hint of hospitality. "Come in."

You step inside, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you as Mrs. Kim leads you through the house. The interior is immaculate but impersonal, with no signs of life or warmth to be found.

She said ushered him into a room that smelled faintly of sandalwood and something vaguely floral. This, he presumed, was her study.

The room was a haven of order. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves overflowed with Korean texts and literature in various languages. A massive oak desk dominated the center, adorned with a simple tea set and a worn calligraphy brush resting in a jade holder. Sunlight streamed through a large window, illuminating a vibrant silk painting of a mountain landscape on the opposite wall.

"Please, have a seat," Mrs. Kim gestured towards the chair facing the desk. John settled in, the plushness a stark contrast to the nervous tension coiled in his gut.

"Wait here," she orders, before disappearing into the depths of the house without another word.

After seeing your tutor's full full chest, practically spilling out of her top, you feel an overwhelming sense to jerk off!