We make a plan to spend more time together

After sucking Mr. Smith cock, we talked for a bit about how it made me feel. We talked about the waves of pleasure that had crashed over me and my constant daydreaming of big black cocks. This led me to show Mr. Smith the paper Mr. Johnson had given me. I was reminded of Mr. Smith’s earlier offer to tutor me in math, and I was reminded of his status as a professor. We agreed I should take the paper to my parents, and tell them I wanted math lessons from Mr. Smith. We could spend more time together, and he could use his background as a professor to teach me.

With our scheme in place, I swam my laps naked as Mr. Smith watch. This time he was naked too!

…

“Adam! Time for dinner!” my mom called. I looked up from my book, grabbed the paper from Mr. Johnson, and headed down stairs.

I saw tonight’s dinner was something simple, just pasta, as I sat down. My father noticed the paper in my hand instantly and asked “What’s that?”

“It’s from my math teacher. One of you needs to sign it.”

My father reached out his hand for the paper. “It says my grades in math have been slipping lately. We started learning some new stuff a few weeks ago and I just don’t seem to get it,” I lied as he read over the paper.

“Oh, Adam! We need to keep your grade up!” My mom fretted.

“I know. I think you should let Mr. Smith tutor me in math.”

“What?” My father looked up from the paper incredulously.

“He is a professor you know.”

“Well I knew that,” my father scoffed.

No you didn’t! You don’t know anything! I thought.

“How much does he want for the tutoring?” My mom asked as my father looked back at the paper.

“He doesn’t want money. He likes teaching. He lets me practice swimming in his pool, so why would he charge for tutoring?”

My father shook his head, weighing the pros and cons. “He’s already going over there for swimming. He may as well stay a bit longer, right? And it’s free,” my mom said to my father. I just took a bite a pasta, pretending not be hoping with ever fiber of my being I could spend more time with Mr. Smith.

My father didn’t say anything. He just got up, grabbed a pen, signed the paper, and gave it back. “You have one week to get your grades up. I am calling the school tomorrow to talk to your math teacher…” he tried to remember his name.

“Mr. Johnson” I reminded him.

“Mr. Johnson. If your grades don’t pick up then we’ll talk about the consequences,” My father finished.

“Yes. course sir,” I agreed.

“Sir?” My mom smiled. “Where did that come from?”

I folded the slip of paper and stuck in my pocket. Even more time with Mr. Smith! I cheered in my head.