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I walked up to a well presented house in the suburbs of England. Pristine lawn, double garage, large bay windows and a striking red door. This house stood out on the street. I was originally from India but moved to England to complete my PhD. It was my parents dream so they could brag I was an Oxford graduate.

As soon as I rang the doorbell, it was opened by the most Indian woman in a green a sari and I stifled a laugh as it was not what I expected in these suburbs. It was almost as though she was waiting for me as she was so quick to open the door.

“Manjula, I presume?” She says as she invites me in.

“Yes. That is me. And you must be Mrs. Arora?” I say with a smile. I was always told I had a sweet smile. I was rather petite at just a shade under 5ft and I never carried much weight. I was a rather picky eater from an early age.

“Come in, dear,” she says. She speaks in a rather middle class English accent but the tinge of her roots is unmistakable. The type of accent many Indian’s try to put on when they want to pretend they are posher than they are.

She walks ahead with an expectation that I will follow.

She invites me to take a seat and her tone is rather stern and she has a hardened face.

“So you are studying your PhD?” She asks tentatively.

“Yes. It is rather a family tradition. My parents did medicine. My mother is a doctor and my father is a doctor. But I did Physics so I am doing a doctorate.”

A joke I have told numerous times but it never landed as badly as it did on Mrs. Arora. She just looked at me like I was an imbecile.

“So you have failed to become an actual doctor. I just hope your parents are there in the case of an actual medical emergency. So tell me about your qualifications? I want your transcripts, not your silly jokes,” she says in a very harsh tone.

I am prepared for this and open my bag to take out certificate after certificate of my qualifications and achievements. I was only 26 but I was quite impressed with myself.

Her expression did not give away much but she made some agreeable sounds.

“You will do,” she says rather bluntly as she hands my papers back to me.

I guess I will do I think to myself as I try to deal with her rudeness.

“Unlike you, my son is an idiot,” she says rather bluntly and I am biting the inside of my mouth to not speak up against her rudeness.

“I am sure he is not,” I say.

“A Mother knows. Anyway, his grades have been slipping. He is down to the low 60%. We need you to make him reach a minimum of 80%. He was an honor roll student until this year but I don’t know what is wrong with him. The teachers are also imbeciles and not much help,” she said.

“I will certainly improve his grades. As you may know from my email I have a slot on Friday evenings and you know my fees,” I say as I get out my diary.

“You will clear your diary. He will need you four sessions a week. We will pay you £200 a week. If he achieves an A in Mathematics and Physics you will receive a £1000 bonus,” she offers.

Despite it being a generous offer I am gob smacked by her sense of entitlement over my time and her general demeanor.

I want to be independent and not live off handouts from my parents but her arrogance has really angered me. I am about to walk out when a young man walks in.

Mrs. Arora turns around, “Here is my idiot son, Anuj ” She says and I hate even more how she talks about him.

“If the situation is as bad as you suggest then I believe the fees should be double. £400 per week and £2000 when he achieves the results,” I respond. I don’t need the money but it doesn’t look like she would miss it. I am not in desperate need for the job and would be happy to sabotage the negotiations.

“I like you. Very much. Start tomorrow,” she replies to my surprise.

On my way out I tell Anuj it is nice to meet him and shake his hand. Despite him being only 18 he is physically taller and larger than me. He seems gentle and sweet though.

The first week I just want to see what I am working with so I set up some practice papers. During the tests he seems distracted or bored and is not really paying attention.

The first week we are in his bedroom. He has toys of all kinds and games consoles. He seems the nerdy type but I am not one to judge as I have a nerdy side to myself. It is a decent space and we are sat next to each other on chairs. His eyes often drift over me to me. I ignore it as innocent interest as I am new to him.

I dress casually in jeans and t-shirts. My t-shirts are usually loose around the neck line and I like to wear tight shirts. I am not afraid to admit that I am rather flat chested. I am barely a ‘b’ cup. Sometimes I don’t even bother with a bra under my t-shirt.

I see his eyes drawn to my neck line and my bra strap that is visible. I pull my shirt up but don’t overreact.

For the second week my plan is to focus on areas that he made mistakes in the tests and try to improve.

On the Sunday evening Mrs. Arora calls me for an update.

“What bursa escort have you learned in the first week?” She asks bluntly.

“He is intelligent. But he lacks focus. His room has too many distractions to study,” I inform her.

“You will study in your apartment from tomorrow. I don’t want any excuses,” she says. She has a blunt and direct demeanor. Her husband must be a saint to put up with her, I think to myself.

“But, um,” I try to object.

“No excuses,” she says sternly.

I take a deep breath and swallow my objections.

The following day Anuj arrives at my apartment. I share an apartment with Kiran. Our friendship is difficult to describe. I am more naturally shy but she is more outspoken and in your face but she respects my privacy so we get on.

Anuj works through the problems with ease and I begin to wonder why he is struggling in the tests. The following week I test him again and he again seems distracted or lacking focus as he scores 63%.

“Anuj, what is happening during the tests? I know you are intelligent and you know all these answers. Is it the pressure? A time thing,” I ask him.

“Maybe I am just an idiot like my Mother always says,” he replies abruptly and I sense he is upset and insecure. I rub his leg as I feel sorry for him.

“You are not. I am not judging you. I want to understand you,” I say as I try to get an understanding of what is behind his underperforming.

“Miss Manjula, I just don’t feel motivated. I go into the exams and it is just the same questions. Over and over again. What is the point?” He asks.

“The point is the result. To get the A. Fine. I think I see the problem. We will do a test tomorrow and if you get 80% or more I will get you anything you want but it has to be less than £100. I am just a poor student myself,” I say in a lighthearted manner.

“Anything I wish for?” He asks.

“Yes but less than £100,” I reply with a smile.

The next day he turns up with a renewed vigor and I am interested to see how he does.

I make him complete two difficult papers and he waits while I mark them.

He scores 82% on the first one and 87% on the second one. I am pleasantly surprised and this may be easier than I thought.

I show him the marks and say, “I knew you were intelligent. So what did you want that got you so motivated? I will buy it tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to buy it. I want a kiss on the lips,” he replies to my stunned silence.

What had I gotten myself into? As he saw my shocked reaction the smile from his lips is gone and he is looking downcast.

I am lost in thought. I don’t want to lose his focus now just when I got him in the right frame of mind.

I clench the side of my seat as I think about what to do.

“A promise is a promise but you must promise that it does not leave this room,” I finally muster up the courage to reply.

He has an excited smile, “Yes. I promise.”

I am sat on a dining chair as Anuj is sat in my desk chair.

I feel awkward as I work out the logistics of what to do. In the end I decide to lean in and just get it over with.

I close my eyes and kiss his soft lips. His lips are soft and have a smooth texture. I wonder if he has ever kissed someone before. His lips taste good and I am lost in my senses as the kiss deepens.

I feel his hands on my hips and I can feel just how strong he is as his hands move up my petite figure. His hands squeeze my breasts through my t-shirt and bra leading me to moan in his mouth. My hand is on his chest grappling with his t-shirt. I clench his t-shirt in a fist as I feel the passion of the kiss.

I have never felt a kiss this hot before in my life. I know I should stop but I don’t. A part of me does not want it to stop.

My chair leans back almost tipping over and I hear it creak. That brings us out of the moment and I am finally able to break apart.

“Thank you Miss Manjula. I have never felt this good about studying in a long time,” he says with a hyper energy.

“It is just Manjula. Remember your promise and I want to see this focus every day,” I reply as I gather my breath and try to regain my feet. I am a little unsteady and he holds me up. He struggles to hide his smile.

“Thank you so much Miss,” he says as I see him to the door.

“What are you feeding him during your classes? Gallons of Sunny D,” Kiran says from the living room over my shoulder in a snarky comment.

“He just got an 87%,” I reply.

“Is this the kid whose Mom thinks is an idiot,” she asks.

“The same one,” I reply with a grin.

“Sheeesh,” she replies.

I send the results to Mrs. Arora.

“His mock exams are next week. I will see then,” she replies. That woman just infuriates. I was slightly confused by my own feelings. I knew the kiss was wrong and I had to keep things professional. I was a student myself but I was older than him and had to be the mature one.

On the day of our next session it had been a warm day so I decided not to wear a bra bursa escort under my t-shirt and I wore leggings instead of jeans. I could imagine how this looked after our kiss but it was entirely subconscious. He is clutching a gift bag as I open the door for him. I don’t mention it but before our session begins he says, “I just want to thank you Miss.” He hands me the gift bag.

Inside it was a tight fitting crop top. I was silent for a few moments. I knew the right thing was to draw boundaries and tell him off but instead I put the bag on the bed.

“Thank you. That is kind. What made you buy it? Chocolates would have been fine.” I said not wanting to hurt his feelings.

“My friend was buying something for his girlfriend and I thought of you. Not that I mean as my girlfriend. I just mean you have helped me so much and I just wanted to do something nice,” he said nervously.

“It was nice. Very nice,” I say as I rub his leg.

We start the work and I help him through the problems. He is more than competent at problem solving.

I am on his left hand side and the outside of his left hand is running up and down my thigh. It makes me feel a tingly sensation. A few times I lean in and I catch him looking down my t-shirt.

My nipples are hard and poking through my t-shirt at the sexual tension between us.

As the session goes on his hand moves in the cleft between my thighs. He seems to enjoy the warmth and just keeps his hand there.

“Miss, can I see you in the top I bought?” He asks.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I reply.

“Please Miss. I have worked so hard today,” he pleads.

“Only because you have been doing so well,” I reply as I walk just behind him to the bed. My bedroom is really small. I am inches behind him as he has his back to me. I am conscious that there is a rough reflection on my computer screen so I turn my back as I remove my t-shirt and put the crop top on.

“You can turn around,” I tell him.

“You look good Miss. Can I have a closer look?,” he asks innocently.

I nod my head. My nipples are stiff and poking against the cotton material of the crop top.

“Is it ok for me to touch? He asks.

I find him really sweet and nod my head again. I close my eyes as he slowly caresses my breasts through the thin material.

His thumb and fingers are outstretched as he feels the round shape of my breasts. My breasts are perky and my nipples are puffy.

I then feel his soft kisses on the bare skin of my chest.

“Oh,” I moan in response.

He pulls the straps of the crop top down my shoulders and kisses my clavicle and down to just above the flesh of my breasts.

The front door closes and Kiran has returned. I quickly pull up the straps and put my t-shirt on over my crop top in a panic.

“That has been good for today,” I say a little hazy from my arousal.

“I can’t wait for our next session,” he says as I see him out.

Kiran is in her room and I go back to my room.

Saturday is my last session with Anuj before his mock exams. It is important for him to do well.

Anuj has another gift bag with him for our next session. My cheeks go red as my mind goes back to our last session.

“Anuj, you do not need to buy me things. You should focus on your mock exams and your actual exams are only 2 weeks away,” I say as I feel guilty.

“I am focused. Like never before. I just buy things when I think about you. Please,” he pleads with me to take his gift.

I reluctantly take the gift and open the bag. It is a pair of ripped jeans and another crop top.

“Thank you. They are really nice,” I say unsure whether I should encourage him.

“Can you wear them for me?” He asks nicely.

I stand up and go behind him. I remove my t-shirt and also take off my bra. I remove my jeans and I wonder if he can see me in just my panties in the reflection. I wear the ripped jeans and feel sexy in this outfit. I am surprised he is able to guess my sizes.

I sit down next to him.

“These mock exams are important. I need to know that you are ready for the real exams as they are so close,” I say to him.

“I have never felt more ready but do you promise to give me one wish?” He asks with his puppy dog eyes.

“One wish. But you must get more than 90% in all of your three papers.” I say.

He nods his head and I can sense nervousness about him. He is focused more than usual during our session and I like this.

The fingers on his left hand finger the holes of the ripped jeans. It is just a gentle touch and comforting touch but it is giving me fuzzy feelings.

From time to time he slips his hand between the cleft of my thighs. He seems to like this spot and keeps his hand there a while. I squeeze my thighs around his hand from time to time. There is a tear in the jeans at the top of my thigh just below my panties and groin area. Despite the small size of the tear his finger sneaks in and I can feel him rubbing the outside of my panties.

Due to angle of the tear he bursa eskort is unable to make a firm contact with more than just the side of my panties. But I can’t help but bite my lip at his exploring touches. There is something about his attention that I find extremely arousing.

After a while he touches the soft skin of my stomach. I take a deep breath as I breathe in. My stomach is flat but I breathe in out of instinct.

His fingers run along the bottom of the crop top. My breathing is erratic as I focus on his work.

I turn my mind back to his work until a while later I notice his under my crop top and rubbing the underside of my breasts.

I lean forward to help him with some problems and his hand goes inside my top and cups my right breast. I know I should stop him but instead my hand glides over his crotch and his cock is rock hard in his jeans.

His fingers pinch my nipples and I bite my lip so as not to let out a moan.

My nipples are hard and stiff that they are aching with need.

I look at the time and our session is up. I move his hand away and he looks apologetic.

“Your work is looking good and you should be ready for the mocks. Remember our deal,” I say with a smile but my eyes are becoming glazed over with arousal.

Our next session is the day after his mock exams. I do not know why I cannot stop thinking about him.

At our next session he seems excited. He is clutching another gift bag and I am beginning to enjoy his gifts.

We go to my room and he hands me the bag. I open the bag and it is a bikini top and cut off jeans. It was summer but clothes that I never really wore. I was never comfortable showing off my legs. I was a tomboy as a child and had a few scars on my legs from scrapes and injuries. My legs were not smooth and I shaved infrequently. This was an infrequent week.

He looked nervous as he waited for my reaction. I flipped and flopped until I decided to stand up and walk behind him. I removed my t-shirt and bra before tying the bikini top around my neck and behind my back. It was a small top but suited my perky breasts perfectly.

I slid off my jeans and stood there for a few moments as I thought about what to do. I then slid down my panties before I pulled up the cut off jeans. I wondered if he noticed in the reflection.

We started studying and he was focused on the work as his hand aimlessly stroked my bare leg.

A few minutes later the front door opened and then slammed shut.

“Shush. Be quiet, I think Manju is tutoring some dumb kid.”

Kiran is back and it sounds like her boyfriend is with her.

“Ignore them. Just focus,” I tell Anuj as I don’t like what Kiran has said.

I hear them go in to her room. I feel like going to tell her off but then Anuj moves his hand between the cleft of my thighs in that spot he loves. It feels different on my bare skin.

“You have amazing legs,” he mumbles shyly.

“Just focus,” I tell him as I stroke his leg.

We can hear Kiran and her boyfriend laughing and giggling. They have obviously been to the pub and had a few drinks.

It goes quiet for a few minutes and then we hear it. The repetitive squeaking of the mattress and the metal frame of the bed banging against the wall.

There is an awkward silence between me and Anuj as we both pretend we cannot hear the clear sounds of two people making love but knowing Kiran as I do this was definitely fucking and nothing to do with love.

I was burning with anger but as I stroked Anuj’s leg I could feel his bulging cock. His hand was now rubbing me between my legs.

My hand stayed on his crotch and I rubbed it along the shaft of his cock. I hear him take a deep inhale of breath.

Kiran’s moans are now loud enough for us to hear and it is unmistakable that they are having sex. Loud passionate sex.

I look at Anuj and he looks up at me. There is something in the air and I am drawn towards him as we kiss. It is not a wish that I am fulfilling but a desire that we are both feeling.

We kiss softly again. I love the way his lips feel against mine. The gentle texture as I feel his lips against mine.

I climb on top of him as our kiss deepens. I feel in control and let my tongue enter his mouth. He reciprocates. I have never felt this powerful or in control in previous relationships. Even though he is physically stronger than me, he is happy to be guided and led by me.

I place his hands on my hips as I move back and forth against his hard bulge.

He opens the button on my jeans and we continue to kiss. I am grinding against his bulge as the kissing is making me horny.

I then feel his hand slide in to my stubbly crotch and he rubs my wet pussy.

I moan but know I must stop this.

I pull his hand out and get off him. I am breathless as I sit back down in my seat.

“I need to change back,” I say as I change out of my clothes and back into my usual jeans and t-shirt.

After our session I walk Anuj to the door and things feel different between us. There is an awkward silence between us before he leaves.

I walk back in and Kiran is in the foyer.

“I am really sorry. I didn’t mean to be so loud. Did you guys hear?” She said apologetically. I was usually easy going and that is why we worked as roommates.

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