Once Grace and I had cleared the air, things got better all around. She was doing her work as much as possible and her new Law and Government teacher commented on her increased work output. I nodded wisely and said she seemed to be working much harder this semester. If only she knew!
It didn't happen very often, but now and again I would see Grace in the hallway. She was always polite enough to give me a little smile or say hello even if she was with friends. I could tell sometimes that her friends were giving her a hard time over talking to me, but there's nothing to do sometimes about the cattiness of teenage girls. I'd just stay neutral, smile at all of them, and move along. If we were traveling the same direction, though, I always enjoyed checking out her ass and her friends' as well--she seemed to hang out with fit, attractive girls who dressed casually but provocatively. During lacrosse season, this often involved game-day uniforms and tight athletic leggings with cutouts. Naturally, I was perfectly discreet, but those appreciative ogles were always a high point of my day now that they were all over 18.
Shifting gears from "history tutor" to "life coach" didn't seem to make that big a difference in my work with Grace at first. The only real changes were that I asked about her other classes more and tried to help her prioritize. I also spent way too much time letting her vent about the ins and outs of lacrosse politics and pressures, which seemed ridiculous to me but were overwhelmingly important to her, so I played along. My advice was pretty generic, but she seemed to appreciate it.
Because of this extra conversation, we didn't do a great deal of actual tutoring on Law and Government, but Grace told me after a while that she was trying to keep things balanced--one of my life-coach refrains--and I heard through Lindsey that she was actually blocking out time to work and following other practical advice that I had given her. I grinned and accepted her praise, happy that things were going well. It was a pain staying so late one night a week, but I was invested in several ways and figured it wouldn't be that much longer.
The missing piece, though, was Grace's other needs. I had forgotten how motivated and crafty she could be when she wanted something because I was caught up in her less-than-stellar academic issues, but she changed all that on a Thursday in mid-March. Lindsey was on her way out as I arrived and we had a brief but enjoyable make-out session while Grace was upstairs changing. With a final squeeze to my semi-hard cock, Lindsey extracted a promise to finish what she started over the weekend and whisked out into the sunset.
When Grace came downstairs, she was dressed only in her pink bathrobe and her hair was damp from the shower. I grinned at the sight, struck once again by the fresh, youthful vitality of her presence: dark hair, green eyes, tanned skin, and adorable curved lips that I was still obsessed with. At that moment, they were curved in a truly adult and feminine smile that took my appreciative gaze for the compliment it was and expressed her satisfaction at my response. After a moment, I realized I was standing there staring like a fool, so I covered my awkwardness with a question:
"How are you, Grace?"
Very smooth, I know, but it was all I could come up with.
She smiled a little wider and said, "I'm good, Mr. Robertson. And I've got something to show you!"
"What's that?" I asked simply.
"Come here--it's over on the table."
I followed the swirl of her robe and saw a line of papers on the table where we usually worked. As I stepped closer and scanned them, I was amazed. Some were handwritten, and some were printed out, but they were all assignments that Grace had done on her own since we last spoke. Even though I could see some glaring deficiencies, they were a vast improvement over the work she had done (or not done) before and they were on time!
"Wow!" I exclaimed, turning to smile at her. "These look great!"
"I used my study hall all week and I did some stuff after dinner every day."
"That's excellent!" I responded. "Sounds like a much better balance than you had before."
She beamed and folded her hands on the back of a chair. One foot moved back behind the other and rested on tiptoe; she began to twist it girlishly as she continued to look me directly in the eyes. I tried not to notice that her arm position pushed her breasts together and her slight movement made them twitch from side to side, but it was difficult to maintain eye contact with all that nubile beauty right in front of me!
"Do you know why I got so much work done?" she asked innocently.
"Better balance?" I suggested lamely.
"Well, yeah..." she admitted, "but I also was thinking of something else."
My mind jumped back a month to Grace finishing an essay before it was due. Instead of working on that, we spent an entire Sunday having sex all over the house, culminating in a revenge-driven creampie session in her mother's bed. I grinned at the memory and Grace's smile broadened as she saw that I knew what she was up to.
"What did you have in mind, young lady?" I asked, trying to smother my grin.
"Well, I was kind of thinking that I owe you a massage..." she said slyly.
"And there's nothing you have to do for school tomorrow?" I asked, clinging to one last vestige of professionalism before I caved entirely.
"Nothing. But someone I trust told me that it's important to take some time for myself and do things that make me feel happy and let go of school and lacrosse every once in a while, you know? And I believe him."
Since that was me, all I could do was nod and smile.
