Grace and I stayed on the wide couch in the sunroom for 20 minutes after we finished making love. All too soon, though, she had to get up--my cum was threatening to leak out of her and make a mess. Cupping herself with a slightly embarrassed grin, she padded off into the family room to get to the bathroom, leaving me alone to collect my thoughts.
First and foremost was "Thank god I finally got to do that!" I'd been Grace's teacher all fall, and spent a lot of time being annoyed with her or fantasizing about her sweet ass and sultry lips. When I became her tutor, things heated up right away thanks to her mother's blunt instructions. My second visit was capped by a "thank you" blowjob that created some serious awkwardness between us. The next weeks were better, but I was also spending a LOT of time sleeping with Grace's mom Lindsey. That was great in itself, but there was one complication: they apparently shared a lot of girl-talk about me. Amazingly, Lindsey had told me Grace was turned on by the whole situation and gave me a free pass as far as sleeping with her daughter. She'd even gone so far as to invite me over on a Sunday when she knew Grace and I would be alone! I silently blessed her twisted little heart.
Grace came back in, still naked but looking a little ill-at-ease. I diagnosed her issue--post-coital awkwardness--and jumped right into a solution.
"Come on!" I said briskly. "Let's go steal a robe for me from your dad and get one for you--it's too cold to be walking around the house like this!"
She giggled, glad of an activity and the chance to return some modesty and normality to the situation. She had, after all, been very open and sexual with me, and although she showed signs of amazing natural sensuality, she was still a kid. I smiled when I thought of how my own 18-year-old self would have handled a situation like that!
I followed her into the family room, then up the stairs to her parents bedroom. She stopped at the doorway and let me go in first. When I looked back at her to see what she was up to, she grinned wickedly.
"The robe is in the bathroom over there...I think you know that, right?"
I laughed and admitted I knew the way. Stepping quickly inside, I found a white folded robe that fit me and belted it snugly around my waist. When I turned back, Grace had vanished. I crossed to the doorway and saw her coming back down the hall belting her own pink fleece robe. She grinned as if she'd been caught doing something wrong, then fluffed out her hair over the collar.
"Come with me...I want the rest of my coffee!" I said kindly, still trying to soothe her jangled nerves.
She nodded and followed me down the stairs, through the family room, and into the sunroom. We each grabbed our cup, but instead of sitting down on the "scene of the crime" couch, I turned and led her back into the kitchen. Not to our tutoring table, but to the couch where I had my first encounter with Lindsey. I sat down and Grace joined me. I took a sip of coffee and turned toward her, ready to talk. Charmingly, she mirrored my action, then realized her flat white was cold, stopped abruptly, and set it aside.
"Let me just say this right now so we can move on, okay?" I began.
"Okay," came her whispered response. Her gaze held mine seriously.
"What we just did was completely amazing. I never imagined you and I would end up like that, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world right now."
I was laying it on thick again, but I had my reasons. She smiled a little bit but stayed quiet.
"And...we still have to find a way to work together, you know?"
"I know."
"So as much as I could spend every minute I'm with you dreaming about your body, or doing something about it, I think we have to figure out what's okay for today and what's okay for the future. Does that make sense?"
She nodded, thinking about the implications.
"Do you want to think about it for a little while and do some work, or do you want me to leave?" I asked quietly.
"I think..." she began uncertainly. "I think we should do some work," she said after a long pause for reflection.
"Okay," I said with a tight smile. "I think that's a good idea. We'll talk more later."
With that, I stood up and went to the fridge. I took out two bottles of water and walked around the large granite island to the table. I pulled our two chairs out and sat down, turning the other to an angle with my foot. Then I smiled at Grace and gestured with my head.
"Come on," I said easily. "Let's do some work while we're all relaxed and happy!"
She giggled, came over, and sat down.
"So your mom says you have an essay to write," I began. "Did you pick a topic?"
God help me, I didn't think it would work, but for the next hour, we talked through her essay on the First Amendment, flipped pages in the textbook, and called up assignments she had done or redone with me over the last few weeks. Don't get me wrong--it was still excruciating to watch her puzzle over things she had learned twice already, but we made a start. After 60 minutes, she had an outline with examples and she looked completely spent. She spent longer and longer spells gazing out the back window at the snow-covered lawn. I passed the time while she tried to focus by letting my eyes roam over her body, my mind replaying the scenes from the sunroom over and over.
Before she could totally shut down, we reached a good stopping point and I stood up. Then I thought of a way to put her at ease for the transition.
"Grace, I'm really sorry," I said, "but I'm getting hungry and I need to hit the bathroom. Is there any way you could find us something to eat?"
She looked at me thoughtfully, then smiled.
"I could make bagels!" she said brightly.
"That would be great. I'll be right back."
I went to their downstairs bathroom--one of the two that I knew about, anyway--and took a leak. Then I used a damp hand towel to give myself a quick wipe just to be fresh and clean in case things got interesting again. When I returned to the kitchen, Grace had two bagels toasting and two glasses of orange juice waiting on the counter. I picked mine up and smiled at her domesticity.
"Thank you," I said simply. "That smells great!"
She almost purred at the compliment.
"No problem!" she chirped, sounding like her normal self. "I usually make bagels for myself, but my mom makes better breakfast."
A shadow crossed her eyes at the mention of her mom. Fortunately, the toaster oven dinged at that moment and she could busy herself with putting the bagels onto plates and getting out butter and cream cheese and knives. After a few minutes, I was settled on one of the high leather stools at the island, chewing meditatively. Grace joined me and took a bite herself. We hadn't said a word since she brought up her mother.
