8 comments/  24666 views/  13 favorites

Laura the Tutor

By: StevenMonel400



"Clint, I know your voice. I know your capabilities. You can do this solo, in fact I am sure you will do it well," the church choir director said with assurance. "There are just a couple of rough spots you need to get through."

"Just a couple? I feel shaky for most of it, especially after the second crescendo," Clint replied. "You know I've had musical training, but on the piano, not as a singer, and that was over 20 years ago. You know I have only been singing in the choir for just over a year."

"You will gain confidence as you learn your part. This Easter Requiem is a beautiful piece, but it is not easy. Listen, I wouldn't have chosen you to sing it if I didn't think you could do it," she responded. "And after the second crescendo, you just need to work on your breathing."

She believes I'm up to it, he thought, but I'm not convinced. I'm terrified.

The director continued, "I only wish I didn't have so much going on at school with my students, or I'd work with you on it. But I have an idea."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, a tutor. Some of my graduate students give private lessons to prepare for their eventual teaching careers, and also to make ends meet," she responded. "Unfortunately, since I teach upper voices, they are all young women, and don't sing baritone. But the mechanics of singing are the same no matter the vocal range."

"But the concert is only a month away," Clint stated with concern in his voice. "Will there be enough time?"

"There will be plenty of time. I will check with a couple of my students and have one of them contact you. It will only take a few lessons, one a week, to get you to where you need to be. I hope the money isn't a problem, as neither the choir fund nor the church can afford to pay for private lessons."

"I understand, and no, the money is not a problem. It wouldn't be right for the choir or the church to pay for it," he answered. "And, if you really think this will work, I'll give it a shot."

@@@@@

Sitting at his desk at work, Clint examined the latest invoices. Business was good. He had worked hard for the last ten years, and it was finally paying off. It was now providing more than just a steady income. He had money for extravagance if he chose, or early retirement if he saved. It was a good feeling.

Clint kept in shape and released tension by working out daily through the workweek. It was almost ritualistic to him and nearly the only means available to him to unwind, as he divorced several years prior and made the conscious decision to focus on work rather than relationships. He was preparing to leave to go for his daily workout when his phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.

"Hello, this is Clint."

"Hi. My name is Laura. My professor said you are in need of a voice tutor. Most of my students are middle school and high school girls, but I think I can help you. I sing Alto, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"Well, I could really use the help. The performance is the Sunday before Easter. My schedule is flexible, what evenings are you available?"

She paused for a brief moment as she checked her calendar. "So, you are looking for three or four consecutive weeks... one hour a week should be sufficient, and maybe an extra session if it is required. How about Tuesdays at seven?"

"I think that'll be fine," he replied. "Choir meets on Wednesday evenings, so I can apply what I learn in our sessions to the following rehearsal."

"Very good. Now, I charge $60 for a one-hour lesson. Will that be ok?" Laura asked.

"Sounds like a bargain. In fact, you may charge more after you hear me sing."

"Oh, I doubt that. Just a couple more questions," she continued. "What is your musical background, like do you read music?"

"Yes I do read music, and in fact, I have a pretty good knowledge of it. I took piano lessons when I was a kid, and have enjoyed various types of music my entire life," he answered. "But my singing experience is very limited. I've only sung in the church choir for a year."

"Oh, do you still have a piano? If you do, can we have the sessions in your home?"

Clint responded with a chuckle. "Well, sort of. I have an electric piano. It has eighty-eight keys, and sounds all right. My place will be fine. Anything else?"

"One more thing - do you have metronome?"

"As a matter of fact I do," he replied. "I have an old fashion swinging pendulum, and one programmed into the piano. And if that is not enough, I believe there is an App for that too."

She laughed at his response. "I think we can make do without the App. I find people do better with the pendulum-type. I think visual and audio stimulus together is more appealing and captivating."

"We're still talking about the metronome, right?" he asked.

"Of course - what else would be talking about?"

"Never mind," Clint sheepishly responded, and then quickly changed the subject. "I need to give you my address. Do you have a pen?"

Clint provided Laura the address, and they confirmed the date and time of their first session. After their goodbyes, he locked up his office and headed to the gym. On his way there, he recounted their conversation. 

Laura had a pleasant voice, he thought, not the low and sultry voice I would normally associate with an Alto. Nor the high voice of a Soprano, but more normal, upbeat, and a bit perky even. He wondered what she looked like- Oh no, he thought, I can see her now, the fat lady that sings at the end of an opera, isn't she an Alto? Clint pictured a large, stern woman wearing a horned, metal helmet. He shook involuntary as a shiver crawled up his spine at the thought.

@@@@@

Tuesday was a hectic day at work for Clint. He was able to complete his workout at lunch, but had to work later in the afternoon than he had anticipated. He arrived home only minutes before the time for his appointment. He put down his briefcase, shed his tie, and was heading for the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Dinner will have to wait, he thought.

He was pleasantly surprised when he opened the door. Standing on the porch was a beautiful, rather tall woman of about 25 years old. She had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a wide smile.

"Clint?" she asked.

"You must be Laura. Please come in." He opened the door and stepped back to allow her to enter. She wore a tight fitting top, which accented her small breasts and a pleated, knee length skirt that complimented a narrow waist, wide hips, and plump ass. She was definitely not what he imagined. "No horned helmets here" he said under his breath as she walked through the door.

"Did you say something?"

"Oh nothing - I was just thinking out loud. One doesn't realize they are talking to themselves if they live alone," he said trying to find an excuse for telling a joke to himself.

"It is good that you live alone," she replied, then realized the implications of her statement and quickly continued, "It is good that we will not be disturbing anyone with our singing during the lesson. You have a very nice home," she said in an attempt to move the conversation away from the awkward beginnings.

"Thank you," Clint replied with a smile. He was proud of his accomplishments, including being able to purchase and furnish this house a few years ago, even though he could afford much more now. "The piano is upstairs in the study. Shall we?" As Clint followed her up the stairs, he could not help but stare at her butt, swaying and jiggling with every step. When she reached the top, he shook his head to bring himself out of his mesmerizing stare and back to the present, as if he were coming out of a trance. "The study is to the right, the room on the left."

Laura sat down on the piano bench, found the power button, and began playing scales to get the feel of the keyboard. "The action and response of the keys is not bad - pretty good for an electric piano. Stand behind my right shoulder and we'll warm up. I'll play and sing a patterned chord progression, and you respond with the same notes but an octave lower. We'll go up until you can't reach the notes comfortably, then progress down until your sound is muddled. This way I can determine your vocal range. Are you ready?"

"Let's give it a shot."

Laura played and sang the first chord progression, but Clint didn't respond. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

He answered sheepishly, "Your voice is amazing. It really caught me off guard. I guess I was lost in listening and didn't think to participate. And now I am thinking that my voice will sound like a bellowing horn when singing with you."

"Clint, I'm sure you are exaggerating about your voice. And try to remember that along with my God given musical and vocal talents, I've been studying voice for over fifteen years. I'd better sound good. Now, let's try it again."

Laura began again... They marched up the keyboard until they reached the key of F and Clint began using his falsetto voice. Laura stopped playing and looked back at him. "Falsetto is great for Billy Joel, but not for a church choir solo, or a Requiem. By the way, you have a very good voice, and we can make it much better with just a few lessons and a couple of exercises. You have a lot of potential. Now, let's see how low you can go."

This time, she began with a chord at a comfortable A above middle C, and Clint responded with the A below middle C. From there, they worked down a little more than an octave until his voice began to waver.

"Good news," Laura said with a smile. "I believe you have more than enough range for a baritone solo. In fact, I believe we can define you as a baritone. You're in good shape in that department."

"So, what is the bad news?"

Laura turned on the piano bench, put her hand on his upper arm and began to rub it in reassurance. Then she looked him in the eyes and smiled. "Clint, don't be so down on yourself. There's no bad news. There're areas we can work on. But I'll let you in on a little secret - the more confidence you have in your singing, the better you'll sound. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true, so we are going to work on the music, your voice, and your confidence in the next month, so you'll sound great for the concert. Sound like a plan?"

Clint hesitated before he spoke. Staring into her blue eyes as she stroked his arm made it difficult to taken in all that she was saying. When it finally registered, he spoke, "music, voice, confidence - got it."

Laura rose from her seat and slid the piano bench to the right. "Come sit with me so we can sing together, and I can show you the details in the music."

Clint moved to the side of the bench, and then hesitated. If I take a seat on that narrow bench, he though, I'll have to sit shoulder-to-should and hip-to-hip with her, and I don't know if I am up for that. Concentrating on music is going to be difficult.

"Come and sit down. I won't bite," she insisted with a broad, inviting smile on her face.

Clint eased onto the bench and scooted over until his pants were against her skirt. As she began to play the piano, her soft arm brushed against his. He could smell her perfume, or was it her hair rinse? He could feel the warmth of her leg against his as she worked the petal with her right foot. With the distractions, he missed his vocal entrance.

She stopped playing, turned to face Clint, rested her hand on his leg, and with a smile said, "Let's try it again. I'll start here," pointing to the music. "Next time, I'll give you fare warning before you are to begin. Sing the best you can, and I'll join you an octave higher if you need help. And if that does not work, I'll forgo the accompaniment and just play the notes."

He made it through the solo, as Laura guided him through the difficult parts. "That was good," she said with a smile. "You have done this a few times. Now let's break it down into smaller parts, four measure phrases."

They continued to work through the solo, section by section. She was a cheerful and supportive tutor, and for the most part, Clint an attentive student. However, on several occasions his thoughts wandered away from music and to the beautiful young woman sitting next to him. It did not help that she look at him with her big, blue eyes, smiled at him frequently, patted his leg, rubbed his arm, or laid her head on his shoulder, all presumably to provide a supportive and reassuring atmosphere.

They completed their work on the four measure phrases, all eight of them, and then ran through the solo in its entirety twice. "During the next six days, I want you to practice the transitions," Laura instructed. "Some of the note progressions are unusual, and you need to be comfortable with them. You should play them on the piano and then sing them in response. Or sing with the recording. It would be best if you did both."

"So, are we done for this evening?"

"Not quite. We need to work on your breathing. You need to be able to do each four-measure phase in one breath. And for that, we need to stand up. Why don't you stand next to the door?"

After they had moved to the threshold, Laura continued, "first, you have to have the proper posture, and we'll use the open door as a guide, so up against the door," she said playfully as if she was a cop ordering a suspect against the wall. She then stood directly in front of him, put her hands against both of his collarbones, and pushed him gently but firmly back.

"In order to achieve the most volume in a breath, you need to be standing straight," she explained as she moved her hands outward toward his shoulders and pinned them against the door. Her warm hands and long fingers pressing against his shirt began to cause an involuntary response from within.

"It's also important that your neck and head be straight," she continued as she slid her hands over his shoulders and to the base of his skull and around his neck. It was as if she was going to run her fingers through his hair and hold his face to kiss him, only pushing him back against the door rather than drawing him forward. But the feeling of her touch on the sensitive skin of his neck was the same.

If she continues this treatment, he thought, there will be only heavy breathing.

Laura rested her open hands on his shoulders. "Now, take a sharp, deep breath," she instructed. He inhaled quickly through his nose, which brought an immediate response from his tutor. "You must breath through your mouth," she said has she brought a hand to gently touch the side of his nose, and then to his lips. "Your breath will be much quicker through your mouth, and it will already be open while you sing."

Clint appeared to be listening, but his thoughts were on the fingers lightly touching his lips, thoughts of kissing and sucking the fingers so close to his mouth he could almost taste the flesh. I would take each finger into my mouth, he thought, swirl my tongue around each digit, and then force my tongue between two fingers as if it were her pussy lips.

Her voice brought him back from his fantasy. "The air must rush past your mouth and into your lungs quickly, or you'll be behind the beat." As Laura spoke, she moved her fingers from his mouth, over his chin, delicately down his throat to his chest, her open hand resting on his sternum.

My heart is beating so hard, Clint thought, I wonder if she can feel it pounding against her hand.

"Now, let's try it again," she said in a supportive tone.

Clint took a deep breath and swelled his chest as the air filled his lungs. 

"No, No, No," Laura said with a smile. "You just demonstrated a very common misconception. One can draw more air into their lungs by using their diaphragm muscles rather than trying to flex their ribcage," she explained while she rubbed his chest with one hand and moved the other slowly down to his belt. When she glanced down, she noticed the enormous tent of his pants, and then quickly looked up with wide eyes.

Clint put his hand on her arm and urgently said, "I need to sit down," as he gently nudged her aside and hurriedly made his way to the piano bench.

Laura slowly moved toward the bench and sat down next to him, but did not speak. It was as if she was searching for something to say, or recounting all the ways she had touched and enticed him. Now she realized the affect it had.

Finally, he lifted his head and spoke in a quiet voice, "Laura, it has been a long time since I've been touched by a woman - particularly one as attractive as you." He glanced into her eyes, and then looked down again.

She put her hand on his upper arm and said, "Clint, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware..., I didn't mean..."

He cut her off. "Don't apologize. I know you didn't mean it. It was my thoughts and my reaction."

Laura took a deep breath. "Let's try it again, but this time I'll be more cognizant of my actions, and of your feelings."

Clint took his position at the door. The bulge in his pants had subsided somewhat, though still noticeable. And he saw that Laura had noticed, as if she did not want to look, but had to see it. 

"Now, take a few deep breaths and exhale slowly, as if you are singing a long, sustained note," she told him as she placed a single finger on his chest to encourage him to use his diaphragm. "And breathe lower," she added in a supportive and encouraging tone.

As he began to understand the mechanics of the proper breathing technique, Laura looked into his eyes and flashed a big grin. "Now you are getting it," she told him. He couldn't help but smile back.

Her grin subsided to a smile, and then she bit her lower lip as she continued to look into his eyes. She innocently reached up with her open hand and lightly rubbed his check. Then to his surprise she buried her face into his neck and pressed her body into his with such force that the door banged against the wall. Clint instinctively grabbed her shoulders, but before he could push her away, she protested. "Please don't," she whispered into his ear. "Hold me."

He did not wrap his arms around her, but his hands did not leave her shoulders. They remained in this awkward embrace for a moment, Laura sweetly nuzzling his neck, her hands on his sides. She raised her head to speak but then hesitated. Clint felt her hot breath on his ear, her warm body against his, and once more his primitive instincts began to stir within him.

Laura finally spoke quietly into his ear. "You said that it had been a long time since you had been touched by a woman, well, it's has been a long time since I've touched a man. Between work, school, my students, and rehearsals, I haven't had the time or the mindset for men."

She shifted her weigh from one leg to the other, but the effect on him was as if she was grinding her body into his. She continued in a soft, sultry voice, "your physical reaction to me brought to the surface all those suppressed thoughts and feelings. Your reaction - your hard cock made me feel attractive, sexy, desirable." Laura moved her hand to his face and gently rubbed his check. She leaned her head back slightly to glimpse his eyes as to gauge his response. Clint was uneasy with his current predicament, but by no means overly alarmed. Surmising his reaction and confident she would not be rebuffed, she pressed on with her seduction.

Laura slid her open hand from his face to his neck, then chest, then to his side, continuing a slow, deliberate motion. The sensation of the delicate touch of her warm hand against the flesh of his check and neck was almost maddening it was so pleasurable. As she moved her hand ever lower, she continued, "I'm sorry I caused you embarrassment, and I'd like to make it up to you" as she reached the bulge in his pants and began to rub and squeeze his stiff member through the fabric. "I would like to finish what I've started."

Clint unconsciously puts his arms around her as she continued to rub his member through his pants. She again nuzzled his neck, and then kissed his neck and ear. As she began to work on the zipper of his slacks, she whispered in his ear, "I will take care of this, but you can't cum in my mouth. It irritates my throat and alters my voice." She then squatted down and reached into his open fly.


Laura the Tutor



Pulling out his cock she took a sharp breath and smiled in pleasant surprise, the girth fit into her hand nicely. She pulled upward and fished out his sack with her other hand. His breathing became deep and labored as she began to stroke his cock and cup his balls. Laura spied a drop of pre-cum forming on the end of his dick and looks up at his face. "I love the creamy, salty taste," she said, then licked the tip. He in turn inhaled sharply in pleasure.

While still maintaining eye contact with him, she engulfed the head and part of his thick shaft in her hot, wet mouth and sucked hard. Clint groaned in appreciation. It had been many years since he had experienced such pleasure. After a brief moment, she began to work on him, bobbing her head in rhythm to her hands stroking his shaft and massaging his balls.

Once more Laura looked up and saw him staring down at her. He watched her intently, mesmerized by the vision of this beautiful young woman, her jaw hinged wide open to accommodate his erection. He reached down and ran his finger through her hair, then instinctively held her head as he began to gently thrust his hips to get her to take more. He tried to drive his cock deeper into her mouth.

A moan of disapproval escaped her mouth from around his member and she pulled away from him and looked up at him with sad eyes. "Clint, I can't take any more of you - it is too rough, too much on my throat. Let me do it my way." Then she was back on him, sucking, and stroking. He released a long, low moan in response.

Glancing down, he noticed that Laura was rubbing her pussy underneath her skirt. "I want to taste your pussy. Feed me your wet fingers." Clint said in a commanding tone. She smiled around his shaft, and after dipping her fingers, she brought her damp hand up from underneath her garment. Clint grabbed her by the wrist and pulled upward. He took in the lingering scent on her hand, and then put two fingers into his mouth. She moaned on his cock from the action of his tongue on her skin. He could only imagine sucking her pussy lips and licking her swollen clit.

Clint removed her fingers from his mouth. "Baby, at this rate I won't last much longer." 

Laura looked up at him from her squatting position, removed his cock from her mouth, peeled off her blouse, unhooked her bra, and tossed her garments aside. Before she slid his cock into her mouth, she said in a passionate voice, "I want you to come on me, come on my tits."

He admired the large areolas and erect nipples of her small pert breasts. Clint reached down and felt the smooth, soft skin of her boobs, circling and then gently pinching a nipple. She responded by again moaning around his cock as she continued to suck and stroke, stroke and suck.

Clint emitted a short series of low moans signaling he was nearing his end. She gave him a couple more quick tongue-lashings, pulled his member from her mouth, and began to stroke him against her chest. She locked eyes with him and began to coax him on. "Oh baby, come on me now. Come on my tits."

Clint needed little encouragement, as he could already feel his orgasm building from his inner depths. As his body tensed and hips bucked, he came hard, sending jets of hot semen splashing onto her skin. Spent, he collapsed against the door.

She rubbed some of the slippery fluid on her nipples, but most of it ran down her belly and wetted the top of her skirt. She smiled up at him, running her hand over is now sensitive dick, and then asked, "Clint, where can I find a towel?"

His condition at that moment made it difficult for him to speak. He did manage to utter "bathroom down the hall" and motion in the general direction. She scooped up her clothes and headed out the door.

After a few moments, Clint collected himself enough to put his package back into his pants and make his way back to the piano. He was sitting at the keyboard when Laura returned, and to his disappointment, fully clothed. "I was hoping to return the favor," he said with disappointment.

Laura smiled at him and put her hand on his check. "I would love that, but I have another appointment, and I need to get going. But I'll certainly take a rain check." 

As they walked downstairs and toward the door, Laura reviewed their lesson and gave him specific instructions on what to practice at home and on what to focus while at choir rehearsal. They also confirmed their appointment for next week.

At the door, Clint reached into pocket. "I need to pay for you for tonight," he said as he pulled out his wallet and counted six - $20 dollar bills.

Laura had a puzzled look on her face when she began to speak. "But..."

He cut her off before she could utter the next syllable. "I know. Think of it as the flowers I would have given you. Think of it as the dinner I would have taken you to. Think of it as the nice gift I would have bought for you. Take it, please Laura, take it, and next time I'll reciprocate."

Laura stood silent, watched him closely, studied his face, and appraised his sincerity. She then stuffed the cash in her purse. Clint opened the door for her and she left without uttering another word.

Clint shut the door and continued to rationalize the extra payment. It's not necessarily money for services rendered, but more, he thought. I wanted to make the amount enough that she would take it without objecting, but too little and she might have considered it a slight, too much, she would have protested. Plus, I wanted to make it worth her while to return, even if she had second thoughts or felt some embarrassment. And, the amount I gave her was adequate to keep what had transpired quiet, or at least between ourselves.

@@@@@

The next day at rehearsal, Clint demonstrated a marked improvement in his solo. It did not go unnoticed by the choir director. "Clint, you sang well today. Laura must be taking good care of you."

Clint responded with a half-smile and nod. Then he thought, little does she know... And what a fiasco it would be if she did. Both Laura and I have so much to lose if it was revealed. There'd be hell to pay at church and in the choir for me, and for the choir director who set us up. Plus, she and Laura, the professor and the graduate student, would mostly likely face disciplinary action at the University.

Clint breezed through the remainder of the workweek with a little more bounce in his step, sway in his gate and more often a smile on his face. On Sunday, he sang in choir at both services, exuding more confidence in his voice and range. He even ventured to sing the harmony on some of the hymn verses, something he did not have the courage to do on his own previously. Laura had affected him in several ways, and he was anxiously looking forward to their next lesson with great anticipation.

@@@@@

On Tuesday, Clint was able to arrive home in time to change clothes before Laura arrived. He wore sandals and baggy shorts. The sandals for comfort and the baggy shorts to better conceal any unintentional excitement brought on by his tutor. He had just finished a snack when the doorbell rang.

As he opened the door, he noticed her sandals, flowing skirt, and tight fitting blouse. But as he looked at her face, she was only able to manage a brief and fleeting smile. He could tell something was troubling her.

"Laura, please come in. Are you all right? You look upset. Is it about the money last week?"

She stepped through over the threshold at stopped. Another brief and fleeting smile appeared on her face at the thought of his concern over the extra payment for extra services. "No, it's not about last week, but it is about money. I'm $350 dollars short on my rent for this month." 

An awkward silence filled the entryway as Clint gazed down and pondered the situation. As he looked up at Laura, she was relieved to see the smile on his face as he began speaking. "I am meeting a group of clients and their wives for dinner on Thursday. Would you consider being my escort for the evening? I will pay you $250 dollars."

"Well, I think I could manage that. I'll have to rearrange my tutoring appointments, but that shouldn't be a problem. And the extra money will certainly help, though it will not entirely solve my problem."

"I think $250 is quite generous."

"Oh, it is, it is," she agreed. "I'm feeling a little relieved now too. Let's get to work on that solo of yours."

Making their way up the stairs and to the study, he stared captivated by her ass under her swaying skirt. Sitting at the piano, they work together on his solo, segment by segment. The confidence Clint had gained from the previous lesson was apparent in his singing, which pleased the tutor. Interestingly to Clint, his reaction to the close proximity and touch of her did not have the same disruptive effect on him as it did just one week prior. He still saw her as a beautiful, inviting woman, but those thoughts were not as overwhelming as before.

"You've made significant progress just in the last week," his tutor told him. "It's amazing how much better you sound when you don't hold back. It's natural to sing flat when one sings timidly as you did last week. You'll be in tune when you sing out. We have plenty of time left in your lesson, so now let's work on some fundamentals."

The first topic Laura introduced was enunciation. She explained how different consonants must be altered, usually shortened, or removed from the word one is singing so the audience hears it correctly. "The letter 'R' is good example, it can sound as if a pirate is singing as in arrh, matey," she demonstrated. "Sometimes you have to move your lips, jaw, month, or tongue in a certain way to correctly sing the word."

With those words, his concentration began to falter. I can only imagine, he thought, the two of us locked in a sixty-nine, Laura pumping my shaft while swirling her tongue around my engorged cock head while I sucked her pussy lips and stroked her clit with my tongue.

She put a hand on his thigh to get his attention. "Clint, are you with me?"

"Ah, yes, I'm here" he replied, and then continued. "The tongue action is extremely important, when it comes to fornication, ah, I mean enunciation." She could not help but giggle, then laugh. Embarrassed by his Freudian slip, he smiled and chuckled from his mistake.

"I have a little more work on enunciation to cover," she continued, still smiling, "that is of vowel sounds. But considering the time, we'll have to cover it next week. We still have to work on your breathing technique."

Hearing the words 'breathing technique' sent adrenalin pumping through his veins. Clint looked into her eyes and asked, "Are you going to seduce me again?"

Laura smiled and hesitated before responding. He could not tell if she was considering the question, or just playing with him. "Do you want me to?"

A timid "yes" was his response. After a pause, he continued. "Do you know how much trouble we'd be in if we were to be found out?"

"Yes I do," she replied with a smile as she lightly brushed his face with the back of her fingers. "It makes it that much more exciting."

"Well, that's true. Do you need a towel?"

"Probably yes, and I also need your metronome. I'll get set up for your breathing technique lesson, you fetch the towel."

When Clint returned with the towel, he found the piano bench in the middle of the room, perpendicular to the open door, and the metronome ticking slowly on the piano, tick..., tick..., tick...

"I've set the metronome to thirty-six beats a minute," Laura said as she took the towel. "Its simple math, the tempo of the song of your solo is seventy–two, and there are four beats per measure, so you have to breathe every sixteenth beat. The metronome is at half the tempo, so you have to count out loud as you exhale for seven and half beats, then inhale to be ready to start again at one."

"So, I exhale beginning at one, and inhale after eight?" 

"That's correct," she replied with a positive tone in her voice. "One is on the downbeat. Don't be late. Now take your position against the door, and stand up straight. When you are ready, take a deep breath and begin."

Tick..., tick..., tick..., the metronome slowly beat. Clint did as he was told and backed up to the open door. After a couple of beats, he drew a big breath and began to count, "one... two... three..."

As he continued to count, Laura reached out and lightly ran her finger along his hairline, and then palmed his cheek as she began to speak. "Don't stop. You need to be able to breathe correctly, and as you sing, the timing of a breath needs to be second nature. You will have to concentrate on your breathing now so it'll be second nature as you sing. Concentrate, and don't be distracted."

So that's it, he thought, she is going to try and distract me by seduction. This realization came to him just before Laura pressed her body against his and nuzzled her head against his shoulder. She then whispered, "You're doing well. Don't be distracted," as her hands began to explore his body.

"Five... six... seven... eight, gasp, one... two," he continued unfettered, at least for the time being.

Her hands were all over him, his shoulders, chest, and arms were first. She grabbed his ass, rubbed his bare legs, rolled his crotch, and gave his hard member several squeezes through his shorts. Still Clint kept count, and kept his breathing cadence. Laura buried her face in his neck, kissing the sensitive skin. But when he tried to reciprocate, Laura stopped. Tick..., tick..., tick..., the metronome continued.

"You have to concentrate on your breathing, Clint" she said in a teasing tone. You are my play toy for the time being, she thought.

"Seven... eight, gasp, one... two," he resumed his breathing, and Laura resumed her seduction.

She quickly spun around and ground her ass against his crotch like a vertical lap dance. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled off her thong panties and held them to his face as she continued to massage his crotch with her backside. Through all of this, he maintained his rhythmic breathing.

"Ok Clint, you're doing very well. Let's see if you can keep it up for the show," she said with a devilish smile as she sat down on the bench directly in front of him.

What show? Clint thought as he continued to count and breath.

Laura began the show by peeling off her blouse and unhooking her bra. She cupped her left breast and rolled her nipple erect, then staring into his eyes she licked her fingers and repeated the treatment on the other breast. He began unconsciously rubbing himself in response.

Tick..., tick..., tick..., the sound of the metronome persisted.

Laura laid down the length of the piano bench and slowly pulled up her skirt, exposing her closely trimmed mound and swollen, glistening pussy lips. She was obviously enjoying these escapades. As one hand continued to stimulate her tits, the other hand moved down to slowly, deliberately rub her wet pussy. Laura softly moaned as she alternatively rubbed her clit and dipped her fingers into her wet hole.

She opened her eyes when she noticed the only sound in the room besides her moans was the sound of the metronome. She smiled and sat up when she saw Clint standing at the door slowly pumping is raging hard on. "You did very well keeping your concentration," Laura said as she stood up and turned around. Leaning over the piano bench, she looked back at him and hiked up her skirt to expose her round ass. "Now it is time for your reward. I know you like my behind - I've seen you admire it."

She held on to the edge of the bench with both hands and impatiently waited.

Clint admired her bent over position as if he were looking at an art piece. He took off his shirt and stepped out of his shorts to position himself behind her, then gently caressed her butt as if he were examining a porcelain sculpture.

"Clint, don't tease. I want you inside me."

He then grabbed hold of her ass flesh while Laura reached between her legs and guided his engorged member into her tight pussy. He began to pump his cock into her in double time to the still running metronome. Clint absorbed the scene. He watched his coated dick sliding in and out of Laura's tight pussy, her ass bouncing and gyrating to his every thrust, hearing the sound of the moaning tutor in his ears and the sound of the metronome still ticking away on the piano, and the feeling of her hot, inner folds massaging his cock.

"Oh Clint, it has been so long," she told him through labored breaths. "You feel so good inside me." She dropped to her elbows, still tightly holding on to the edges of the bench. "Oh, it feels so good."

His inclination was to grab her by the hips to pound her pussy, but he knew he had to savor the moment. He reached down, cupped her breasts, and gently rolled her nipples. Laura responded by reaching between their legs to alternatively rake her nails on his swinging balls and rub her clit.

This stimulation was going to be too much for Clint, as he could feel his climax beginning to build. In response, he slowed his pace to that of the metronome, slow and deliberate strokes.

"Oh Clint, don't slow down, please, harder, faster."

Clint smiled at her pleads, and thought, you will eventually get your wish. He ever so slightly increased his pace as he kneaded her ass flesh between plunging his cock deep into her pussy.

"More, yes, more," she responded in broken words through gasping breathes. Not satisfied with the slow and deliberate pace, she began to rock back to meet his thrusts.

He knew that he could not tease her much longer, so with his hands firmly on her hips Clint increased the pace of the pounding he was giving her hot, wet hole.

Laura was now at the point of no return. "Clint - come with me Clint," she said as she reached back and rubbed her clit.

Clint could feel her inner muscles tighten around his member and her hand working on her pussy. As his orgasm began to build, he felt her body become rigid, and then he felt the waves of ecstasy that traversed her body as she moaned loudly in bliss. Pounding her hard, her response triggered his orgasm. He plunged and jerked, grunted and ground as he exploded, spewing hot jets of semen deep inside her.

When her climax finally subsided, Laura dropped to the piano bench. He removed his member from her still convulsing depths, and a mixture of semen and pussy juice seeped out. After Laura partially regained her composure, she used the towel to wipe up the puddle of love juice, then grabbed her clothes and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom.

She returned fully clothed to find him, also dressed, and sitting on the bench in its proper place in front of the piano. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. "I hope that was ok?"

"Are you kidding? That was incredible - more than I could have ever imagined." He stood up and together they walked downstairs. Laura reiterated what he was to practice, and he provided the details for the client meeting on Thursday. At the door, he handed her $160 dollars.

"Clint, you really don't need to over pay me."

"But rent," Clint responded. "You need the money."

"Yes, but I also needed the touch of a man. I needed to feel you inside me. It was mutual pleasure tonight."

"Then take it as a gift then. I want you to have it."

Laura smiled at him, stuffed the bills in her purse, ran her fingers over his cheek and chin, and then exited through the door.

@@@@@

Choir rehearsal on Wednesday was great. Clint was almost ready for the concert. He had made fantastic progress, and the choir director was very happy. Clint sang with confidence, and his solo just needed polishing. He had only one more private lesson and one more choir rehearsal, but his breathing and the second crescendo was nearly perfect.

@@@@@

The following evening, Laura arrived at his home at the prescribed time for his business dinner. She wore an elegant black dress and heels, accented with a silver chain and silver earrings. Her hair and makeup were done, but not overdone, fitting for the occasion. When Clint opened the door, he was momentarily lost for words. "You are beautiful, ah, you look beautiful," he said stammering. "I think we're ready to go." 




Laura the Tutor



On the way to the restaurant, Clint briefed her about his business, the clients of the family-owned firm they were meeting, the wives of the clients, and her role as pseudo hostess for the evening.

At dinner and throughout the evening, he saw Laura in a new light. Under these circumstances, his attraction to her was different, more than just lusting for a beautiful young woman in which happenstance had brought them together. She was poised, personable, and friendly with the guests.

The matriarch of the group took a particular interest in Laura during the course of the evening. "How did you come to meet Clint, my dear?" She asked of her.

"Well, I'm actually his voice coach," she explained. "I'm a graduate student of the choir director at his church, and he's singing a solo for the Easter Requiem. The director set us up. As for tonight, I think he wanted to treat this poor, struggling student to a free meal." She did not reveal the extra payment for her escort services for the evening, nor their other exploits, but the wise and observant matriarch new there was more to their story.

"I've noticed the way he looks at you, dear," the matriarch responds in a tone a doubt of her statements. "You bring brightness to his eyes and a smile to his face. I suspect that if you are not more than just a voice coach, he wishes you were. I think it might be wise for you to lift your nose up from your books and look at what is in front of you, dear."

Dinner was a success. On the way back to his place, their conversation was somewhat muted, as they were both contemplating the evening, and uncomfortable about the recent past events. 

Laura is a special woman and I could really fall for her, he thought. But I have paid her for sex, twice, even though she needed the money and I wanted to support her.

I wish I did not seduce Clint or take his payments, she thought, even though I wanted him and needed the money. Besides, he wanted me, and he wanted to give the money to me.

At Clint's house, they were again at his door as Laura was leaving. "This evening was very successful, and I have you to thank," he said as he gave her the $250 escort payment. 

She paused, as if she wanted something else, as if she wanted more.

"Is there something else?" He asked, puzzled. We'd agreed upon the arrangement, he thought, and the payment was satisfactory. "What else is there? What more do you want?" he asked.

"Just this," she said as she slipped her hand around his neck and kissed him briefly on the lips. Though they had had two encounters thus far, it was their first kiss.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"Well, no actually, but more can wait. The hour is late," she replied with a smile. "And you?"

"No - ah yes. I too would like more - but yes, the hour is late, and I think it can wait. I'll see you on Tuesday for the final lesson."

@@@@@

On Tuesday as Clint prepared for his final voice lesson before the performance, the phone rang. It was Laura, sounding distressed. "I'm sorry Clint. I'm running late, but I will be there shortly."

"Are you ok? You do not sound yourself."

"No, not really," she replied bluntly, "I'll be there soon."

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. It was Laura, and she looked awful. She gave him a glance of a beaten dog through her puffy eyes and smeared mascara. She obviously had been crying.

"My dear, what happened?"

"I really don't want to bother you with this. Not now" she said, deflecting the inquiry. "This is your last lesson before the concert and I want to make sure you are good to go."

"Actually, I was considering continuing the lessons," Clint said, looking for a reaction to his statement.

"That won't be possible for much longer."

Clint was now puzzled and confused. "Why?"

"My fellowship was not renewed. Being a restaurant hostess and giving private voice lessons just does not pay enough. I need $2,000 for tuition for my summer classes and another $6,000 this fall. And that does not include rent and everything else. I only needed until the end of the year to finish my master's degree, but now my best option is redrawing from the university at the end of the semester and teaching middle school choir in the fall."

"It's not the end of the world," he responded, consolingly. "Think of it as just a detour in the road."

"Come on, let's get started with your lesson," was her only reply. Together they made their way up the stairs and to the piano.

They worked on his solo, focusing on the crescendos, decrescendos, enunciation of vowels, and ending consonants sounds. He was polished and confident. He was ready. And during the time of his lesson, he was formulating a plan to keep her in school. There were no extracurricular activities at the end of the lesson.

Downstairs at the door, Clint paid her for the lesson, but he was not going to let her walk out of his life, and not under these conditions. "The concert is Sunday as you know. Please come. Plus I want another lesson next Tuesday."

"Well, I believe that my calendar is clear for Tuesday, and I can always use the money. I'm not sure about Sunday though."

"Please try to make it," he asked of her. "And Laura, promise not to withdraw from school until we talk more about it."

Laura looked him in the eyes, and he could see she was about to start crying again. She quickly turned and left without saying a word.

@@@@@

The Requiem was first on the program, and his solo opened the second movement. The church was packed as the choir filed into the sanctuary and took their positions in the choir loft. Clint felt somewhat nervous during the introductions, but settled down once he began singing during the first movement. It was then that he saw Laura in the audience.

As he stepped to the microphone to begin his solo, he felt confident and relaxed. He focused his attention on Laura sitting in the audience, and in his mind he sang to her as if to demonstrate to his teacher of what a great pupil he had been. His performance was near perfect. Both the choir director and Laura flashed him broad smiles as the audience clapped in appreciation.

At the conclusion of the concert, there were many in the audience that gave him appreciative congratulations. Once the crowd thinned, he was able to reach his tutor who was waiting patiently for him.

"You were superb," Laura said with a smile and a hug. "I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, but you should get at least some of the credit, as I couldn't have done it with you. You have my thanks, and my gratitude. And I want to continue learning."

"I don't think that will be possible," Laura said as she looked him then averted her eyes. "I had the University draw up the papers for my withdrawal for the summer session and for the fall semester."

Clint reached out and gently held her upper arm as he spoke. "Laura, I have a plan. I want you to work for me."

"What exactly is your company going to do with an Alto? Serenade your clients?"

"No, I want you to work for me personally," Clint replied with a reassuring smile. "At the end of the semester, you can move out of your apartment and into my guest room. You'll be able to practice in the study while I'm at work. You can keep up the house and do the domestic chores. In return, I will pay for your tuition."

"You'd do that for me? Why?"

"Why? Because I want you to be able to follow your dream. And because I can. The benefits will be mutual, so please consider it. I'm sorry, but I have to go now," Clint said as he realized that his fellow choir members were busy all around him. "I have to help put this place back in order. I'll see you on Tuesday for my lesson and your decision."

@@@@@

Clint was anxious on Tuesday afternoon. He left work and went straight to the gym, believing he could work off some of his nervous energy. But his thoughts were of Laura, the proposal he had made to her, and the anticipation of a decision. He showered at home, dressed in comfortable clothes, and waited for her arrival.

At the appointed time, Laura knocked at the door. She was wearing her usual skirt and tight fitting blouse. But when Clint invited her inside, she gave no indication of her decision. "I have a couple of ideas on how you can improve your singing, some exercises that you could do."

"Before we begin," Clint had to interrupt her train of thought, "did you consider my proposition?"

"Clint, I did take it under consideration," she said in a very business-like tone. "I believe I could accept if certain conditions are met."

"Conditions?" Clint was somewhat taken aback, as he was not expecting a negotiation. "Such as?"

"Well, If I'm to accept your offer, then I would like not to have to wait until the end of the semester," she said as if she were buying a car from a dealership. "I'd like to move in next weekend, if possible."

Clint smiled at her counter-proposal. "I think that can be arranged. Anything else?"

"Yes. You mentioned that I would be staying in the guest room, and use the study to practice... I'd also like full access to the master bedroom and all if the amenities."

Clint smiled once more. He was thoroughly enjoying the negotiation, even though he easily caved on her demands. "Well, I think that too can be arranged. Is there more?" he asked with a sheepish grin.

"Yes. One more thing," she said as she slipped her arms around his neck and drew her face close to his. "I'll accept if you allow me to skip the lesson tonight and instead, you make love to me." Then she kissed him passionately.

After several moments he broke from the kiss and spoke softly. "Now I have a counter-offer to your counter."

Now Clint caught Laura off guard. "Are my conditions unacceptable?"

"No Laura, your conditions are just fine."

"Then what is it?"

Clint took a deep breath and responded. "I'll accept all of your conditions to my proposal if tonight I finally get to taste you."

Laura managed to let out a quick "deal" before she returned her mouth to his lips, her arms around his neck, his hands caressing her back, and their tongues intertwined.

Within a minute, there was a trail of sandals, pants, shirts, and underwear between the front door and the master bedroom. The new landlord and tenant were on the bed locked in a sensual sixty-nine, Clint on his back with his hands groping the round ass he so adored underneath the skirt that he insisted she not remove. He was simultaneously sucking her pussy lips and stroking her clit with his broad tongue while she was busy tonguing and sucking his cock while pumping it with her hand.

Laura began to moan around his member, and then broke the suction to speak. "Oh Clint, that feels so good. You're gonna make me come." In response, he sucked harder on her lips and increased the tempo and pressure of his tongue-lashing. As she laid her head on his thigh and gripped the bed sheets, he could feel her leg muscles tighten and heard her breathing become shallow. Then with an accompanying series of moans, she shuddered in orgasm as wave after wave passed through her body.

As her climax subsided, Clint softened and slowed his tongue, and released her pussy lips from his mouth as he kissed her inner thigh. Once she caught her breath, she rolled off and spun around to be side to side and face to face with him. "Clint, that was amazing. That was so intense I thought I was going to pass out from the pleasure."

"I am glad you enjoyed it. And I'm happy to do it again, anytime. Now, are you ready for more?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Clint paused, and then shared his thoughts. "Well, I can't decide between reverse cowgirl, so I can admire that great ass of yours - and cowgirl, so I can suck your nipples and finger your clit."

Laura sat up, quickly removed her skirt, grabbed hold of Clint's legs, and straddled his torso. Looking back with a smile, she said, "Both, starting at reverse. I took off my skirt so you would have an unobstructed view."

Reaching back with one hand on his member, she guided him into her wet hole. "Oh Clint, you feel so good inside me," she said through labored breaths as she began to ride his cock.

He grabbed her bouncing ass with both hands, and then replied, "Oh baby, it feels so good inside you. But you had better slow down, or your ride will be short lived." He was thoroughly enjoying the view of her plump ass bouncing up and down, his glazed shaft disappearing inside her, and her lips clinging to his pole as she rocked up. He slipped a hand underneath her, thoroughly coated his middle finger with her ample juices, and began rubbing and gently probing her rosebud.

"Oh, oh, oh my butt hole is really sensitive Clint. You'll make me come again."

That was all the encouragement he needed. He once more wetted his finger in her overflowing juices and began finger fucking her rectum matching the rhythm she had established on his cock. "Are you gonna come for me again, baby?"

Moments later, he felt her inner folds constrict around his cock, her sphincter contact on his finger, and her body tremble then quake as she achieved her second orgasm. She ground her pussy into his pelvis until the waves subsided. "Wow Clint, you sure know how to show a woman a good time."

"Turn around and I'll give you some more."

Laura did as instructed. Moments later as she rode his cock, Clint was licking and sucking the taut nipples dancing in front of his face. He slid his hand down between their coupled bodies, found her swollen, slippery clit with his fingertips, and began slowly applying pressure in a circular motion.

"Oh baby, you are gonna make me come again. I want you to come with me. I want you to come inside me." She then collapsed onto him and kissed him deeply. As their tongues danced together, Clint began to pump his cock into her hot, wet hole with an increased tempo. As he could feel his climax begin to build, Laura moaned into his mouth. He felt her body tense, and then felt the ripples run through her body as she squeezed him inside her. His orgasm was triggered by hers. He ground his cock into her as he convulsed and filled her inner depths with cum.

They held each other for some time, enjoying the post orgasmic bliss, his softening member still inside of her, Clint gently caressing her back and kissing her neck and shoulder. He was the first to speak, "So, do you think my proposal will work?"

She responded with a smile, "I think it'll be workable, but only because of my added conditions."