Tutored in Temptation

Tutored in Temptation -- Part 6

Author's Note: All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual activities in this story are over 18 years of age. Obviously, this type of behaviour from a teacher is not condoned in real life.

As always, all comments and feedback are welcomed.

HF

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"Five... four... three... two... one... Happy New Year!"

The loud, raucous cheer erupted through the Lancaster household as the countdown reached its climax -- the end of the old year and the beginning of the new one. The large screen television mounted on the wall of the living room displayed an impressive spectacle of fireworks blooming over the London Eye and the River Thames that wound through the centre of London, the vibrant colours lighting up the night in a series of red, green, yellow, white and blue sparkles. The living room was alive with laughter and music, with glasses clinking as the guests exchanged New Year's greetings.

Emily stood in the middle of it all, a champagne flute in her hand, her husband Jonathan beside her, the picture of a perfect upper-middle class English couple -- Jonathan being a corporate lawyer for a respected firm in London and Emily being a high school English teacher for a prestigious private school nestled in the nearby Surrey countryside. His arm brushed hers as he leaned in towards her with a warm smile.

"Happy New Year, Em," he said, his voice low but tender, carrying a depth of affection for his beloved wife. Having been married for nearly a decade, this was their eleventh New Year's celebration they had shared together. In that time, their love had grown, they'd married and started a family together, embarking on the demanding but infinitely rewarding journey of raising their now six-year-old daughter. In that time, albeit more recently, Emily had also illicitly embarked on secret and highly taboo relationship with one of her students in the Upper Sixth Form, a young Nigerian teenager named Darius Okoro, one of the school's most talented football players

The brown-haired woman turned to him, her own smile carefully crafted, her sparkling blue eyes giving nothing away. No one could know what she was doing in secret, what she had done again only a few days earlier when she had met Darius in a deserted park in the Surrey countryside outside Guildford. "Happy New Year, Jon," Emily replied to her husband, tilting her face up towards his as he kissed her lovingly. She felt the warmth of his lips against hers, familiar and steady, yet her mind betrayed her, even at this warm moment. The memory of Darius's kiss, hungry and urgent in the cool forest air just days ago, lingered at the edge of her consciousness. I... I need to focus... focus on Jon... she thought to herself.

Emily broke the kiss, forcing herself to meet Jonathan's gaze with as much sincerity as she could muster. She knew in her heart that he deserved more than the half-hearted affection she was offering and the guilt weighed on her. It was like this every time she was with Darius since they had started their affair several months earlier -- their intense passion and desire for each other would overcome her, followed by feelings of guilt and shame when she returned to her family.

However, she had recently come to a disconcerting realisation that the guilt and shame was becoming easier to push aside, her mind instantly recalling the passion, the excitement, the lust she felt whenever she was alone with the young Black teenager. She gave her husband a little smile, gazing at him with her sparkling blue eyes. If only he knew... she mused to herself.

Around them, the room buzzed with the joy of the new year that had just started. Guests hugged, kissed, and broke into an impromptu rendition of

Auld Lang Syne

. Although it had been their turn to host the family Christmas lunch just days earlier, both Jonathan and Emily had agreed to host this year's New Year's Eve party too -- their guests were a familiar mixture of family, friends, acquaintances and work colleagues.

On the floor by the fireplace, Sophie sat nestled among the other children, her small frame clad in her favourite oversized pyjamas, her blue eyes wide but weary. At just six years old, the excitement of staying up until midnight had clearly taken its toll. Emily glanced over, catching her daughter trying to stifle a yawn.

Emily's maternal instinct kicked in as she moved towards her and leaned down, brushing a stray curl of brown hair from Sophie's face. "Soph... time for bed, sweetie," she said gently to her daughter.

Sophie's big blue eyes, so like her own, gazed up at her mother with sleepy protest. Emily was surprised that she'd made it that far that night -- clearly the excitement to see the New Year fireworks had been the source of her additional energy. "But Mummy... all the other kids are still awake..." she proclaimed, always ready to argue her case. Jonathan had always said proudly that she would one day follow in his footsteps and make a great lawyer.

Emily smiled, her heart softening at her daughter's words. Despite what she was doing with Darius, she still thought of herself as a devoted mother. "Yes, but they're older than you. I said you could stay up until midnight, and you did. Now it's time to sleep, sweetie."

Sophie pouted for a moment but then yawned, her resistance melting as exhaustion set in. It had been a big evening for her, playing with the plethora of other children that their family and friends had brought over for the evening -- Emily had seen her holding court in her bedroom earlier in the evening, proudly showing the other girls her doll collection. "Okay," she murmured sleepily, standing up and taking her mother's outstretched hand.

There were a few desultory "G'nights" from the other children, most of them looking quite tired, Emily noted to herself. She turned towards Jonathan. "I'll just put Soph to bed."

"Ok, hon," he said before he turned his attention to his daughter. "G'night, munchkin," he said, leaning down and giving her a kiss on the cheek and a hug that his daughter woozily returned. Emily felt another twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach at the tender sight of her husband and daughter. What am I doing? What would she think of me if she knew what I was doing? The disconcerting thoughts echoed in her mind for a second before Emily pushed them away. Don't think about it... think about your family...

Taking her daughter's hand, they made their way upstairs, the noise of the party fading slightly, though bursts of laughter and music still drifted up from below. The staircase was adorned with fairy lights, the soft glow casting a warm ambience -- Emily and Sophie had spent the morning decorating the house in preparation for the party. She'd even positioned several of her favourite stuffed animals in the front hall to greet guests as they arrived. Emily led Sophie to the bathroom and knelt beside her as the little girl brushed her teeth with slow, sleepy movements.

"Good girl," Emily murmured, smoothing Sophie's brown hair as she rinsed her mouth. Together, they walked to Sophie's bedroom, the footsteps silent on the plush carpet of the hallway. Her daughter's room was softly lit by a small night light shaped like a teddy bear and as Emily tucked Sophie into her bed, she smoothed the blanket down over her tiny frame. "Goodnight, sweetie. Happy New Year. I'll close the door, so the adults don't wake you, okay?"

Sophie nodded, her eyelids already drooping. "Okay, Mummy..."

Leaning down, Emily pressed a soft kiss to her daughter's forehead. For a moment, she lingered, watching Sophie's peaceful expression as she drifted off to sleep. Emily's chest tightened. Sophie was the purest part of her life, a beacon of innocence amidst the tangled web of illicit desire and passion that she had woven with Darius.

As she stepped out of the bedroom, she turned back for one last look at her daughter. Sophie's breathing was even, her small hand clutching the edge of her blanket. Emily closed the door with care, the latch clicking softly into place.

Downstairs, the party was still in full swing, music playing and the television showing scenes from other New Year's Eve celebrations from around the world in Ultra High-Definition clarity. She found Jonathan in the kitchen, pouring more drinks for a group of friends, laughing at something one of them had said. Emily watched him from the hallway for a moment, taking in the sight of him at ease, surrounded by the people he cared about. Family, friends, colleagues. She felt a pang of something in her chest -- was it guilt? Regret? Shame? Or perhaps just the weight of her own conflicted heart. What am I doing?, she thought once again.

Turning towards the living room, she found it was a lively scene: her sister-in-law dancing with her husband, one of Jonathan's work colleagues telling a boisterous story that had a small group of guests in fits of laughter. The warmth of the gathering was undeniable, but Emily felt detached, like she was watching it all through frosted glass. I wonder what Darius is doing at the moment?

The thought echoed in her mind. Why is it so easy to think about him? She had messaged him earlier in the day using the secret burner phone that she kept hidden in a drawer under her tights. It had been brief, wishing him a Happy New Year. But it also felt... natural... as if they were a couple in a relationship, messaging each other, sharing thoughts and feelings. But they weren't that: she was his teacher, his tutor, his secret lover.

Walking back into the living room, Emily forced herself to mingle, to smile and laugh at the right moments as she moved amongst the crowd. Jonathan joined her after a while, his hand resting lightly on her back as they spoke with their guests. He was attentive, offering her another glass of Bollinger champagne and asking if she was enjoying herself. She hadn't felt this relaxed and comfortable with him for months, the weight of his work and then the secrecy of her affair, pulling them apart. But in that moment, it felt strange, as if it was from another perspective, another lifetime.

"I am," Emily lied, her voice steady as she gave him a smile. "It's a lovely evening."

Despite her best efforts, her mind kept drifting, pulled inexorably back to the events several days earlier in the forest. She could almost feel the chill of the cold winter air, the rough wood of the bench that she had knelt on as she straddled him, Darius's strong arms encircling her. His touch had been electric, leaving traces of sensation on her skin that she still felt now.

But it was the feeling of him inside her that had been the most powerful, the most transformative, for her. She felt a shiver run through her body as she recalled the moment she had sunk onto his hard, black cock -- the feeling of his ebony shaft parting her moist labial lips, stretching open the entrance to her snug vaginal canal. It was exquisite, a beautiful blend of pleasure and pain that she had become addicted to. It was the same every single time he entered her -- each time as good as the first time they had made love all those months ago in his cousin's apartment.

Although young and relatively inexperienced in terms of partners, Darius more than made up for this with his enthusiasm, vitality and toned, muscular body that had been honed to perfection through countless hours on the football pitch. Having been blessed with a penis that eclipsed anything that Emily had experienced in terms of size, each encounter had been totally and utterly satisfying for Emily. The sight of the young, dark god impaling her with his ebony spear was unlike anything else she had ever experienced. But it was always the climax, the feeling of him stiffening, holding her tight, almost painfully so, as he came inside her, inundating her English womb with a deluge of potent African seed was the most mind-blowing for her -- an overwhelmingly addictive combination of intimacy, passion and desire.

*****

Eventually the party began to wind down in the early hours of the morning. Gradually, guests began to filter out into the cold winter night, bidding Emily and Jonathan warm farewells and all the best for the New Year. She stood by the front door with Jonathan, their hands brushing occasionally as they waved their family and friends goodbye. It had been a good night, Emily thought to herself, despite the gnawing ache of guilt and anxiety deep in her heart.

When the house was finally quiet, the last of their guests making their way to their cars parked in the street, Jonathan turned to her with a tired smile. "Well, that was a success, wasn't it?"

Emily nodded, her lips curving into a smile that felt more genuine now as she let out a little sigh of relief. "It was. Everyone seemed to have a great time."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Thank you for everything, Em. You always make these things special."

His words, so full of sincerity, cut through her, like a hot knife through butter. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as a wave of guilt surged through her. Focus, Em... think about Jonathan... think about Sophie...

"I'm going to start tidying up," she said after a moment, pulling back gently. As much as she tried, the images of Darius kept coming back into her mind. I wonder what he's doing tonight... I wonder if he messaged me at midnight?

Jonathan shook his head. "Leave it for the morning. Come on, let's sit for a bit."

Emily followed him into the living room, the space now certainly quieter than before but still glowing with the remnants of the evening's warmth, thanks to the now smouldering embers in the fireplace. They sat together on the sofa, Jonathan stretching his arm along the backrest, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder. For a brief moment, Emily could forget all the guilt and anxiety that lurked in her heart and mind. This is what it used to be like, she mused. Before work became all-consuming for Jonathan. Before thoughts of Darius consumed her heart and mind every stray minute.

As he began recounting one of the night's funnier moments, Emily listened, nodding and laughing in the right places, her façade firmly in place. But part of her was still elsewhere, caught in the memory of Darius's voice, his touch, his intensity. She wondered what he was doing now, if he was thinking of her too.

Part of her wondered if Darius had messaged her and it took all of her self-control not to stand up and make her way to her bedroom to check. No, she told herself. Not now, that was for later. Instead, she leaned into Jonathan's touch, determined to keep her focus on the man who sat beside her, the life they had built together. For tonight, at least, she would pretend to be the loyal and devoted wife and mother everyone believed her to be.

*****

By the following day, the 2nd of January, the new year had firmly settled in, but the festive haze of Christmas and New Year's indulgence and merriment still lingered in the household. As she finished tidying up in the kitchen after lunch, Emily felt the weight of too many mince pies and glasses of wine over the holiday break sitting a little too comfortably around her waist and hips. A run seemed the perfect remedy.

New Year's Day had been a quiet event, Sophie hadn't awoken till nearly ten in the morning, giving Emily and Jonathan the opportunity to enjoy an unaccustomed sleep-in. The rest of the day had been spent cleaning up from the party the night before and it wasn't until the afternoon that Emily turned her mind to packing for the upcoming conference in Edinburgh.

She'd reviewed the conference schedule just before New Year's Eve and decided that she would leave on the 3rd of January instead of leaving on the 2nd as originally planned. The only thing she would miss would be some social and networking events, which she decided was no great loss. She'd still have the three days of the conference and, more importantly, four nights alone with Darius before they had to return home, with the Spring Term starting immediately after that.

She'd messaged him with the change along with the location and time where she would meet him after leaving Guildford. His reply had arrived quickly -- he'd be ready for her at the new time.

She'd paused when she was packing -- the standard, professional attire she wore for work was easy to select and pack but she debated what else she might include in her small travel suitcase. She had looked through her lingerie drawer, trawling her way through the selection of lace, satin and silk items. Hmm... this is nice, she had thought to herself.

Packing done, except for her toiletries and make-up that she would pack in the morning before leaving, she had turned to attention to the other tasks necessary to keep her household running. There's a load of washing to put in and I need to get some more milk...

In the living room, the house was calm and relaxed. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Jonathan was at home and not focused on work. To Emily's wonderment, he'd actually arranged a few days off beyond the break and looked like he was enjoying not having to be in the office. He was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in what appeared to be a documentary on Lord Beaverbrook's pivotal role in World War II aircraft production. Emily gave a brief shake of her head, Jon certainly loves his documentaries, she thought to herself.

Meanwhile, Sophie was sprawled out on the rug in the middle of the room, her dolls and playsets arranged in a lively scene in front of her. She'd done well for Christmas -- the playsets being gifts from Santa... In the background, the crackle of the fireplace provided a comforting backdrop to the scene of domestic bliss. All looked achingly normal, achingly perfect... except for the feelings that lingered in the depths of Emily's heart. Part of her wanted to immerse herself in this picture of familial delight. Another part of her wondered what her young lover was doing and missed the feeling of his touch on her skin.

Stop it, she told herself. Focus on yourself and your family. The dichotomy of her existence was in equal measures painful, exciting and worrying. Keep focused, Em... no one can ever know... She put on the façade that was becoming increasingly familiar to her.

"Just going for a run," Emily called as she ascended the stairs towards the bedroom, receiving a distracted "Alright, love," from Jonathan in response.

In her bedroom, Emily walked to the wardrobe, flicking through neatly hung garments before pulling out her winter running gear. She began by shedding her comfortable house clothes, folding them over the edge of the bed with habitual tidiness.

She reached for her white Nike Dri-FIT sports bra, the smooth fabric cool against the pale skin of her breasts. Pulling it on, she adjusted the straps to allow the garment to sit snugly, feeling the firm support it provided to her 34C breasts. Next, she grabbed her Under Armour ColdGear mock-neck top in crisp white, the fabric soft yet very effective at insulating her against the biting cold outside. She had been outside earlier to take out some rubbish and had immediately noticed the sting of the cold against her skin. Sliding it over her head, she smoothed the hem down over her torso, the high neckline sealing in warmth from her body.

For her legs, she chose a pair of Adidas TechFit thermal leggings, the snug fit moulding to her legs and waist while offering essential warmth and support for her during her run. Emily couldn't resist a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror. You're going running, Em... she reminded herself. But that doesn't mean I can't look good too, she mused with a little inner smile. From the back of her wardrobe, she retrieved her Nike Shield running jacket in black, its windproof material sleek and fitted to her slim, toned body. She zipped it halfway, the contrast of white and black garments giving her torso a sharp, clean look, perfect for the wintery landscape outside.