Lady Lucia
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The Tutor, Part 56
🕑 Added 2023-11-26 00:24:00 +0000 UTCThis kiss felt different.
‘Slutty’ wasn’t quite the right word, though it was the one that came to mind as I started making out with Annabelle while straddling her. There were just a lot of elements that made it feel like more than the last few physical experiences with her. Our new position on the sofa, the fact that we were both scantily clad; not to mention that no matter how many times I kissed Annabelle, it never felt like it was going to be the last time. If anything, it only got easier to initiate.
There was also nothing innocent about this particular make-out session. With her gentle yet assertive grip on my bare midriff, she was quick to pull me into her as we locked lips again and again. I was keenly aware of not only the fact that our bare thighs were connected pretty much everywhere, but also that my hips were starting to grind closer and closer to her pelvis as she subtly guided me backwards and forwards along the way. Our breasts also brushed and nudged and eventually pressed together as my endless kisses with the redhead beneath me deepened.
Feeling a bit breathless by the time I remembered that this was supposed to be about more than just the sapphic activity we were caught up in, I eventually pulled back when her hands traced around to my lower back and it started to feel like we were on the edge of taking this further than making out. “Ms. Annabelle,” I whispered against her lips. Straying too much further felt like it would be a bad idea, now that I was proving that I was more than capable of being brave and open-minded despite my constant reservations and mixed feelings about so much of this, “Let’s talk.”
“Hmm, about what?” she murmured. Staying nice and close herself, and tempting me with a flick of her tongue, “You could just keep kissing me, you know.”
I couldn’t deny that I wanted to. She knew it, too, and went so far as to part her lips for one of those teasing almost-kisses where our lips were halfway locked without either of us fully committing to applying pressure. Managing to resist, I gave a small shake of my head and said, “Listen, An- Ms. Annabelle. I’m your tutor.” Not her pet, or her maid, or her lesbian fling. I was here to teach her mathematics. At this point, however, it was like I was trying to convince both of us of that fact more often than not.
Softly exhaling onto my lips, she quietly replied, “Just my tutor, Mere?”
Meredith. Now that we were talking, albeit far more hushed and intimately than the conversation I planned on having with her while driving over, I briefly considered correcting her for the first time in forever in regards to my full name. The problem was, my time was limited. How long had we been kissing? And how many seconds had passed since I insisted on talking? It hadn’t taken long for my worries about this exchange to become reality–there was no possible way to keep track. Not when making out with Annabelle made it difficult to focus on anything but how she was easily the best kisser I had ever met. And as for talking, I could already feel how tough it was to be serious when we were in this position and poised to switch back to the promiscuous side of things at any moment.
“I’m supposed to be . . . ” I hesitantly said. We did just talk about the whole pet thing, after all, and my alleged promise. This could very well be a test, which was all kinds of unfair when I was already up against so much in order to simply talk with her. “We should- Umm, we should get dressed?” Not my most confident suggestion.
“Time’s up, Mere. Kiss me.”
“But- Mmm!” Before I could express my doubts about how there was no way that brief verbal back and forth had been equivalent to what had felt like a pretty prolonged make-out session, Annabelle took the initiative this time around. My eyes widened for a moment in surprise, then closed as I melted into the kiss. Letting her pull me in for another round, I tensed up a few seconds later when her hands roamed down to my backside. My thong didn’t cover very much back there, so Annabelle was soon gripping me by my bare ass.
By contrast, I was still cupping her shoulders in a far more innocent manner. Partially because there wasn’t a great spot to hold her when the soft leather of the sofa claimed her back half, and partially because straddling her already felt like a lot. Doing anything inappropriate with my hands would only incriminate me further as the older girl who was on top and not saying or doing much to shut this all down.
We kept kissing, getting more tongue involved as we gradually increased the passion and intensity of our rhythms. It was tough to say who was leading what, as it was more like we were evenly playing against each others’ lips than any part of it being one sided. In a way, it made sense. Since I was the one straddling her and she was the subtly dominant girl, things balanced out physically between us in a way I hadn’t expected or been prepared for.
By the time I managed to break things off a second time, Annabelle was firmly holding me by my ass and our bodies were completely flush. Save for our bra cups, I could feel every inch or her softness and warmth from the neck down. “Ms. Annabelle, please,” I whispered. Instantly realizing the suggestive nature of those words out of context, I breathily said, “We shouldn’t.” That’s about as far as I made it before she interrupted me with a deep peck. “It’s getting late.” Another kiss that lingered longer than I anticipated. “I still have to tutor you.”
“Hmm. And how long will our tutoring session be?” Though the words were rather mundane, her tone was still casually seductive as she asked the question against my lips.
Initiating a kiss of my own out of habit, while internally justifying that doing so would allow us to keep talking since we were now mixing words and actions, I murmured, “Umm . . . an hour, maybe?” Honestly, I had no clue. This visit wasn’t even on my official calendar, as the reasoning of needing a ‘make-up session’ was way less about tutoring and way more about getting the collar unlocked. The previous day was blurry enough, yet things were currently escalating despite my best intentions when first driving over. “Or two?” I didn’t know what time it was. Maybe suggesting a longer timeframe would encourage Annabelle to mentally switch gears with me. I certainly wasn’t capable of doing so myself.
Rather than responding right away, she brushed my lips in that usual teasing way. At the same time, she shifted underneath me and used her grip on my backside to pull me slightly forward. There wasn’t really anywhere left to go, so a maneuver like that just ensured we were pressing more tightly into each other. Being the girl on top, I ended up naturally leaning in, if only to not come across as a stiff board while she seemed to involve her body and hands so naturally. “You know what that means, pet,” she quietly replied, “An hour of this first. Or two.” Then she kissed me again.
“Mmm!” I did kiss her back, though I was slightly less eager to lock lips with her when I was in the midst of processing what had preceded the familiar gesture. Breaking things off after a couple seconds, ignoring how it felt like Annabelle was aiming for something deeper, I gave a small shake of my head. “Wait, Ms. Annabelle. That’s too much . . . ”
“Is it?” she coyly asked, “I thought you wanted this, Mere. Were you lying?”
“N-no. I do . . . I do want this,” I hesitantly responded. It was kind of true, although it was also an impulsive response when anything otherwise would no doubt end badly for me.
She followed up with, “Who do you want? Look at me, pet. Answer like the obedient girl you are.”
It took a huge mental effort to pull back enough to take Annabelle in. This had all been a lot more manageable when I had been too lost in the kiss to worry about all the inappropriate details that had crossed my mind leading up to it. As my eyes fluttered open and I was met with her piercing eyes, sultry smirk, and striking combination of fiery hair and pale skin, my voice caught in my throat. She was gorgeous, something I had known since the beginning, but that was somehow more apparent when she was bare in so many places and giving me every ounce of her attention.
I still didn’t fully accept what she was heavily hinting towards, as all the usual fragments of anxiety were floating around, although I was definitely at the point where I couldn’t deny most of what she was saying, either. Giving a small nod, while feeling particularly confused about how her final demand affected me more than I expected or cared to admit, I took a breath and said the answer I knew she wanted. “I want you, Ms. Annabelle.” The full thought, rather than taking the easy way out with something simpler.
“Good girl,” she said. After giving one more squeeze to my lower cheeks, as well as another experienced pull that had me truly, fully straddling her on the sofa as she sat forward, Annabelle began tracing back upwards with her fingertips. “Time to be brave, Mere. I’m going to take your bra off.”
Not a question. She gazed up at me in silence during her hands’ journey, somehow both giving me the opportunity to maybe reject the stated and physically teased advance, while also pinning me into place with the nonstop contact and her calm yet commanding expression.
Before I knew it, we were nearing the point of no return. Her fingers nudged my bra band, and she deftly found the clasp and angled the proper half in preparation to unhook it.
As I felt the familiar sensation of my bra being undone, Annabelle broke the most recent round of silence. “Kiss me.”
I obeyed, just like before. Without saying a single word about how she was about to strip me.
