Math Tutoring

 

My good friend and tutorette “Trouble” and I talked late into the night following the Oscars telecast last weekend. She’s 17 years old and about to graduate high school. We’ve been talking about prom, graduation, going off to university, boys, and all the other things teen girls dream about. Her senior year is finally on track post-pandemic and she is looking forward to a future full of excitement.

 

As we talked, I remembered a unique experience I had at her age as a senior in high school.

 

For admission to USC, I had to list “service” work on my application that demonstrated my community involvement. One such service was volunteering to tutor younger students in math. A sophomore girl, named Brenda, asked me to help her with geometry. She was a cute little thing and asked so nicely I could not say no. Besides that, she had a reputation around the school for being promiscuous. The boys flocked to her. I was curious about her because I shared a similar reputation, only, I was swinging both ways.

 

We made plans for a Saturday morning tutoring session at her house. I showed up at the agreed-upon time with a geometry book and notebook only to be greeted by her at her door wearing thin cotton baby doll pajamas. I asked if she slept late. She laughed, led me into her living room, then flipped the hem of her pajama top revealing she was naked underneath. She said, “On Saturdays, I don’t dress unless I am going out.” She held the hem up long enough to make sure I had a good look at her perfectly trimmed girl bits.

 

I sat down on the living room sofa, opened up my geometry book, and asked, “So what are you having trouble with? What do you want to cover?” Brenda sat down next to me, as close as she could without being in my lap, and said, “I don’t care about geometry, I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

 

I pretended to object, but she seemed sincere. I was flattered as she told me I was something of a role model for her, that she had heard I was a “wild child” who did as she pleased, didn’t tolerate bullshit, and fucked whomever I wanted – boys or girls. My head began to swell horribly.

 

Recovering somewhat from the hyper ego boost, I mentioned I had heard she was gaining her own reputation as a fuck toy for the cool boys at school. Wistfully she agreed but said the cool guys were mostly boring. She added she fucked them anyway because she liked the attention. This girl, almost three years my junior, shocked me. Not because of her open promiscuity, but because she was so much like me at 14, but, I thought, on steroids.

 

Brenda cozied and wheedled her way into my lap to where we were face-to-face our eyes and mouths only inches apart. “I’ve never been with another girl, Sparks,” she said, “I want to be, with you.” She kissed me. It was an eager kiss, an urgent kiss with an overactive teenage tongue. I kissed back and pulled her tiny frame to me. What the hell, I thought. Brenda threw herself into me energetically something like an excited puppy. It felt nice.

 

Kissing led to petting, touching, fingers probing. Quickly, and too soon, Brenda dropped between my legs on the floor and pulled my skirt up to pull down my panties and explore. At that moment, the front door of the house opened and her mom walked in on us.

 

Brenda didn’t move. She remained between my legs so I couldn’t close them. I pulled my skirt down as much as I could as Brenda looked up, not fazed at all by the appearance of her mom, and beamed, “Hi, mom, this is Sparks, the girl I told you about.”

 

Her mom looked a lot younger than I would have thought dressed in a pair of low-slung jeans and a t-shirt. She came over to the couch, leaned down, and kissed Brenda, her lips to her daughter’s, softly, almost sensuously, and said, “Hi, baby!” She smiled because leaning over as she did, she could see my full, bald Brazilian up my skirt. Sitting down, she leaned towards me and said, “Nice to meet you, Sparks. Do I get a kiss from you too?” She didn’t wait, she kissed me, a warm sweet kiss that said hello and promised a lot more.

 

I would learn much later that Brenda and her mom occasionally double-teamed Brenda’s boyfriends. I’m not sure, but I think I may have been the first female three-way they orchestrated, but not the last.

 

The rest of that Saturday morning was beyond memorable. Mom was unabashedly open, expertly teasing and thrilling every nerve center and orifice on my body. Brenda was a quick learner, if awkward at the times. Mom’s guiding hands and advice made most choices work. Her mouth was magic. While I was the subject of their attention and activity, there were a few odd moments when mom and daughter would touch, even kiss, for the slightest moment, as they enjoyed making me squirm and squirt with delight.

 

The three of us were exhausted after an hour or so of introducing Brenda to the joys of girl-girl sex. The one thing that struck me as truly funny though was Brenda’s mom making us grilled cheese sandwiches and soup for lunch after we showered. We sat in the kitchen, in various stages of getting dressed, and munched our sandwiches sharing naughty stories.

 

I didn’t have sex with Brenda or her mom again after that Saturday. I’d see Brenda at school and we’d share knowing smiles. She really was a cutie. Brenda’s reputation grew to eclipse mine, especially for her three-ways with the cool crowd.

 

To this day, Brenda swears it was not her intention to include her mom that morning. I never believed her, but that’s okay. It worked out quite nicely.