Thank god for reddit because I literally cannot tell a single human being in my life about this lol.
So I tutor kids after school right. Math and reading mostly, easy money, I go to a few houses in my neighborhood a couple times a week. The moms are usually the ones who set everything up but the dads are the ones home when I show up because the wives work late or travel or whatever.
One of the dads, not using his real name obviously, was always... friendly. Not creepy friendly though, more like he’d make me coffee while I worked with his kid and then after the session we’d just stand in the kitchen talking for like forty minutes about nothing. He’s maybe late thirties, not gym fit or anything but he’s got these thick arms and a belly that’s not fat just... solid? He does construction so I guess it makes sense that he’s built like that but idk I still wasn’t expecting it. His hands are all beat up from work, calloused with little nicks and scars everywhere, and every time he’d hand me my coffee mug our fingers would touch and I swear I’d feel it in the bottom of my stomach.
So one night his kid goes to bed early and we’re standing in the kitchen and he’s venting about work and how exhausted he is and how his wife is always gone for business trips and I can see it on his face, like this man is just running on empty. And I don’t know what came over me but I put my hand on his forearm and said “you seem like you really need someone to take care of you.” And he looked at me with this expression like he was trying to figure out if I meant what he thought I meant.
I meant it.
He kissed me first. Pushed me against the counter and his hands went to my waist and he kissed me like he’d been thinking about it for months. His stubble scratched my chin and he tasted like black coffee and I could feel his cock getting hard against my hip through his work jeans, thick, like I could feel the whole outline of it pressing into me and my pussy was already soaking just from that. He smelled like sawdust and deodorant and a little bit of sweat and it shouldn’t have worked but it WORKED.
He picked me up onto the counter and I was actually kind of shocked at how easy it was for him?? Like he just grabbed me and lifted and I was up there. I guess hauling wood around all day does that to a person lol. He pulled my leggings and underwear down, yanking one leg completely free so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He unzipped and pushed into me and he was SO thick I had to bite down on my own hand so I wouldn’t wake his kid upstairs. The sounds were insane, wet and loud, his belt buckle clinking against the counter edge with every thrust, and he kept whispering “fuck” against my neck while gripping my thighs hard enough that I had finger-shaped bruises the next morning. His belly pressed against mine every time he went deep and I could feel his whole body weight behind each stroke and I was not prepared for how different it feels when a guy actually has some weight to him?? Like the college boys I’ve been with are all skinny and careful and this man just... wasn’t. His hips just kind of knew?? Like he wasn’t even trying or thinking about it, they just moved like that on their own and it was driving me insane.
When he came he buried his face in my shoulder and just stayed there breathing hard for a full minute. I could feel his cock twitching inside me and his cum dripping out around it and running down onto the counter. It was a LOT. Like this man had not been properly taken care of in a very long time and his body was making that extremely clear lmaoo.
After, while I’m pulling my leggings back on, I made some stupid joke like “that’s gonna cost you extra” because apparently I cope with post-sex panic using humor. He laughed. But when I left he venmo’d me double what I normally make for tutoring.
And I stood in my bathroom staring at my phone like... should I be offended?? Or did I just make three hundred dollars in twenty minutes while also having the best orgasm of my semester??
Next week same thing. His kid finishes the session, heads upstairs, and he didn’t even pretend this time. Just walked up behind me while I was packing my bag and pressed himself against my ass and I could feel him already hard. I turned around and dropped to my knees right there in the dining room, reached up and unzipped his jeans, pulled his cock out through his boxers. Thick and warm and already twitching. I sucked him slow at first, running my tongue along the underside, tasting salt and skin, letting spit build up until it was dripping down his shaft. His hand went to the back of my head, those beat up fingers tangled in my hair, not pushing, just resting there while I bobbed. His thighs started shaking after a couple minutes and he came in my mouth, thick and warm, and I took every drop. He handed me an envelope on the way out with cash and neither of us said a single word about what just happened.
Is it fucked up? Probably. His wife would absolutely lose it. But this man is so wound up and so neglected and when he cums he looks at me like I just took a hundred pounds off his shoulders and I’m not gonna lie... that does something to me. It makes me feel needed. Like I’m the only person in his life who actually sees how tired he is and does something about it instead of just adding more to his plate.
And yeah the money doesn’t hurt either. I’m a college student who eats ramen four nights a week and this man pays me more for twenty minutes on my knees than I make in a full week of actual tutoring so.
Every Tuesday and Thursday now. His kid does the homework, I sit at the kitchen table and help, and then the kid goes upstairs and I stay. We don’t text about it. We don’t talk about it. He just looks at me when his son leaves the room and I already know. Last Thursday he pulled my shorts down around my ankles while I was still standing at the table, bent me forward, and fucked me right there. I had to press my face into my own folded arms to keep quiet while his kid watched cartoons one room over and the guilt should have been louder than the pleasure but it wasn’t. Not even close.
His wife is coming back from her latest trip on Sunday. I tutor again on Tuesday. I keep checking my phone waiting to see if the regular tutoring session gets cancelled.
It won’t.
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