I got the call halfway through the semester. It was the mother of one of my former students - the girl was in her second year of university and needed help with an essay. The mother sounded desperate, so I agreed. And since the girl was a former student, I said I'd do it for half the price. My normal rate was $40 per hour, but I'd give them two hours for the same rate.
When I showed up, Anu's mother was overjoyed: "Mr. Michael! Thank you so much for helping out." And here I thought they were helping me out and my bills.
So I settled at the table with Anu and a rough draft of her essay. Pen in hand I was going over things she could change, telling her why things had to be moved or altered in her sentence structure. After about fifteen minutes, her mother popped her head around the corner and said they were leaving so we could get the work done without disturbance.
Anu smiled and I said, "See you in a bit."
I told her, "Actually, you know, if you change these things in the essay now, you'll pretty much be done. Do you have a laptop or something that we can change your working copy?"
"No, I just have my desktop upstairs. Let's go change it now." She led me to her room and her computer which already had her essay on the screen. We sat down and she started making some of the changes to her essay. To sit in front of the desk we were already quite close in proximity and her leg was right up against mine. When she leaned over even slightly, her ample breast rubbed against my arm. I hadn't realized how large they really were, but I pushed the thought out of my head.
Then I noticed a portion of the text that could be made stronger and started to type it in myself. "This will make your argument much better, especially if you want your strongest argument first." Her hand rested on my thigh, something I couldn't ignore. Neither could a certain body part which began to awaken.
Her hand began to move up my thigh. In half a second she would feel what was becoming increasingly and visibly obvious. Suddenly, and without a word, she stood and said, "Would you like a drink?"
"Uh, sure. Just water is fine."
She scampered off to the kitchen to get a couple of glasses. While she was gone, which seemed to be quite a while, the progress on her essay was steady. I got about two pages completely done.
She finally returned and handed me the glass. I didn't notice at first, but she had changed her clothes.
I glanced over and I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped. I tried to quickly recover and look back at the screen. My quick glance picked up her button-up but it was far from buttoned up. it was undone to the bottom and underneath was a tight and tiny bra, barely holding in its contents which were spilling over the top. She also had on a tiny plaid mini-skirt - the stereotypical schoolgirl skirt.
When she reached up to grab a couple of coasters from the shelf, my eyes were glued to the cheeks that snuck out from under her skirt. My resolve was beginning to crumble... I began to wonder if it was ever really there.
When she sat back down, she was almost on top of me. "Whoops! Sorry."
She smiled widely at me.
I kept typing at the computer and she looked closely at my expression.
You seem really tense. A few seconds later her hands were rubbing my shoulders. "Anu, you don't need to do that."
"Why not? You're doing all this work to help me, I want to help you too."
Her hands felt very relaxing. It didn't take long for the essay to be done its next draft. She moved back to her seat to look it over. She leaned in towards the screen and typed a bit, setting up the formatting of the essay. Again, the skirt lifted, but this time she planted herself almost squarely in my lap. "There, that's easier. You don't mind, do you?"
I couldn't even answer. I just sat there and wondered if she could feel my erection throbbing under her. There was no way she could have missed it and with every shift of her body she certainly wasn't missing it.
She sat back a bit and asked, "Mr. Michaels, could you do me a huge favour?" Consider the circumstances, I wasn't in a position to refuse anything. But I could barely talk, so she continued, "I just wanted to try something."
I scraped out a barely audible, "Sure."
She got up and grabbed my hand, leading me over to the bed.
"Uh..." I was quite nervous and was trying to keep my hand from shaking like a leaf in the wind. "Aren't your parents going to be home soon?"
"No, they left for the night. They're going to Detroit for the weekend."