Readers, I was torn as to what category this should be. Since it involves a young lady offering a blow job to get out of a traffic stop, I placed it in NC/R. Feel free to let me know if you think I should put it somewhere else!
*****
"Nick here will be your student," Ms. Smith smiled as she introduced us.
Nick freaking Cascade. Oh my God
"Hi, I'm Amy Long," I said as I extended my hand and tried to look calm.
"Hello, Ms. Long, pleased to meet you."
"Please, call me Amy."
"I'll let you two get acquainted."
And that is how I met Nick freaking Cascade. Initially I had simply jumped at the money when they told me I could double my tutoring rate. It turns out I would be tutoring Nick Cascade, one of the highest profile football recruits in the country, now enrolled at my football-crazy school. Celebrity might be an understatement, certainly many fans would classify him as a demi-god. To say Nick was a prize recruit would fail to grasp the mentality of the area, he was a legend in these parts. Even I, who didn't follow football much, knew who he was. I also knew some of the controversy surrounding him, the arrests and allegations.
What I hadn't expected was how handsome he was in person. Tall, confident, muscular, dark skin with an easy smile. Hot. I, on the other hand, was just a nerdy college girl, trying to make ends meet. While I thought I was pretty, Nick was in a whole different category.
During our tutoring sessions, Nick was on his absolute best behavior. Over the week, he continually impressed me with his kindness, his humility, and his sense of humor. He was a really, really nice guy. However, he seriously needed help in his classes. It wasn't that he was dumb, it was that he hadn't been exposed to things. He had read Jane Eyre in High School as a senior: I had read that in sixth grade. Sentence diagramming was a foreign concept. He didn't know how to break down words. Punctuation was a mystery. He had come out of an impoverished area of the state and just hadn't been exposed to good teachers, good books, high standards. I had my work cut out for me to get him to pass.
One day, sitting at our table in the study area of the athlete's complex, Nick scrambled to his feet.
"Coach Adams, hello."
I turned and came face to face with God. Well, that's what they called Coach Adams around here. He had turned the school into a football powerhouse and everyone sang his praises. His press conferences were the stuff of legend.
"Nick, how are your studies going?"
"Good, good sir. Amy here is helping me."
My brain finally caught up and I struggled to stand, but God motioned for me to sit down as he took a seat beside me.
"Nick, could you please get me a cup of coffee? Two creams, one sugar."
"Sure, Coach, sure," he said and raced off.
Coach turned his attention to me. It felt like there was a spotlight on me. I had heard of Coach Adams' charisma, but experiencing it in real life was amazing.
"Ashley, is it?"
"Amy, sir."
"Good. How is the tutoring going?"
"Good, so far. We have a lot to do."
"Yes. Now you listen here, Ashley. I've worked hard to get this program where it is. I will not have scandal around my program. You're part of my team now. I'm counting on you to do the right thing. You are here to tutor Nick. You are not here to write his papers, you are not here to do his work. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
"If Nick gives you any trouble, you let me know, understand?"
"Yes sir."
"If Nick makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, if he asks you to write his paper, if he is rude to you, if he is late, if you get your hair cut and he doesn't like it, you let me know, understand?"
"Yes sir."
"If you smell alcohol on him, if you smell wacky smoke on him, you let me know."
"Yes sir."
"Give me your phone. Unlock it."
And so I did. I mean, when God asks for you to unlock your phone, you unlock your phone. He put his number in my contacts.
"Now, this is my direct number," he said, motioning to the cell phone on his hip. "You call me anytime you need too. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
Oh my God, I had God's personal cell on my phone
"This number is also for you, in case something is going on that you don't want me to know about. This is a blind number, they know if you are calling they are to get you what you need immediately and not ask questions. They don't know who you are, all they know is that you have their number. Any time, day or night. Understand?"
My goodness, he was intense. I was ready to run through a brick wall for him.
"Yes, sir. I won't disappoint you, sir."
Nick reappeared and offered the coffee.
"Thank you son, Ashley and I were just getting acquainted," Coach Adams smiled as he took a sip.
"It's Amy, sir," Nick smiled.
"Mmm," Coach Adams, smiled at his coffee. "They sure make good coffee here." His attention turned to me again. "I really like their bran muffins also. Would you be a dear and get me one?"
"I...uh, sure."
I knew the café was only for athletes, but when God tells you to get a muffin, you go get a muffin. I dashed off and told the guy at the counter that I needed a muffin for Coach Adams. When I returned, I saw Nick and Coach Adams engaged in a conversation. Or at least half of a conversation. Coach was doing a lot of talking, Nick was doing a lot of nodding. I gathered he was getting the other end of the lecture I had just received. Finally he finished and I rushed over to give him his muffin.
"Why thank you," he smiled and took it from me as he stood. "Ashley, Nick, it's been a pleasure, but I must be heading out. You two enjoy your day."
I sat down and watched God leave the building. My attention shifted to Nick, who let out a sigh and then his composure cracked as his shoulders slumped.
"Nick, what is it?"
"Man, what if I can't do this? What if I'm not smart enough?"
I instinctively reached out to hold his thick forearm.
"Nick, come on, you're fine. I'll help you. I'm good at what I do. We are going to be fine." I shook him a little until he looked at me. "You're going to do fine." I shook him again. "Okay, take a deep breath and let's get started."
Things went well after that. Nick wasn't eligible to play due to his grades, but he still practiced. We met for two hours, three times a week. He was really a super nice guy. He was smart, too, I could tell, but he just was so far behind. He worked so hard to catch up, and he was always studious and polite. I couldn't help but admire him. Maybe being around someone who studied so hard inspired me, and I really hit the books for my classes.
Progress came slow, he had a lot of ground to make up. His professors weren't easy, no one here got a free pass, not even star athletes. Nick's papers came back smeared in red, but I could see the improvements. Together we managed to get him to pass remedial English. He seemed so happy and I was so proud of him. He was handsome, nice, studious, athletic...yeah, I started crushing on him. Big time. Alone in my dorm at night, inappropriate thoughts of him and me crept into my mind. I didn't deceive myself, I knew I had no shot with him. I was kind of aware that he had a girl, but a girl can dream. And dream I did. On the rare occasions when I had the room to myself I would think of him as I pleasured myself and then felt incredibly guilty afterward. One day, working at a desk in the study area, he caught me staring dreamily at him while he wrote his paper. I must have blushed a thousand shades of red as I tried to act like nothing was going on.
I wasn't a virgin, I had taken care of that after prom, but that I was the extent of my experience. I had come to college with every intention of sampling the delights of sexual activities, but things never worked out. Too many girls, not enough guys, guys just looking for a quick score. My sexual experience totaled to one drunken make-out session. I didn't like alcohol, didn't party, and apparently was more shy than a I thought. What happened to all the mid-level nerdy boys I used to hang out with in high school? Anyway, tutoring forced me out of my shell, and I was now fixated on Nick. I started consciously dressing nice for him, putting on makeup. He seemed to reciprocate, and we flirted as we studied.
Second semester started, his first real classes. He worked hard for his grades, such as they were, struggling every day. On a warm day in mid-March, I went to our Saturday afternoon tutoring session. He was there, waiting for me with a big smile. His SAT tests had come back, and he had passed, meaning he was now eligible to play. I shrieked in joy and leapt into his arms. I hugged him tight and kissed his cheek in a totally inappropriate display of affection.
"Nick, I knew you could do it!"
"I couldn't have done it without you."
"Oh, Nick, don't sell yourself short."
"No, really Amy, I appreciate what you've done for me. All my life people have moved obstacles out of my way. You actually took the time to help me overcome one. I won't forget this."
I smiled up at him. I was still in his arms, his powerful arms, pressed up against his solid body. His kind words warmed my heart. And other parts of me.
"We should celebrate," I said, breaking the silence.
Why don't you take me up to your room and do whatever you want with me?
"Ice cream?"
In no time we were in his car, a hot little sports car which I didn't know he had. We were driving. I was wearing a little striped blouse and a knee-length skirt, sitting in the passenger seat as my man drove me down back roads. A wicked thought crossed my mind.
"How fast can this thing go?" I asked, raising my leg to show an indecent amount of my inner thigh.
His eyes jumped to me, looking at the skin I was showing. I casually ran a hand up from my knee.
"You should keep your eyes on the road, Nick."
His eyes went to the road and then back to me as I adjusted my skirt.
"Amy, babe, you're going to get me in trouble."
"Little old me? How am I going to get you in trouble?" I teased as I stroked my leg.
He floored it and the acceleration pushed me back into the seat. His eyes danced to road to me and back. I got even more into the scene, arching my back and purring. I was just about to ask him if he wanted to go back to his room when he suddenly tensed up. Sirens.
