The Tutor, Part 52

It was easily the most unique kiss I had ever experienced.

Technically, I couldn’t actually call it a kiss. While our lips were touching here and there, the prolonged drumroll was nothing but intimate build-up and pointed teasing on both sides that had yet to go anywhere.

If Annabelle was going to kiss me, I was determined to make sure that she was the one who made the first move. She had confidently informed me that she liked girls, and we had done this enough times that I had to assume that she enjoyed making out with me and wanted to keep doing so. Or maybe she just got off more on the game itself, and the physical part was just a bonus. Either way, I wasn’t about to give in like so many times before. I was her tutor, and I had literally just told her as much. I couldn’t keep letting her bait me into the kinds of things that undermined that message.

So we kept gently dancing with each other. Her lips brushed mine, then mine did the same to hers. Her soft breath tickled my lips and further tantalized me while I maintained my resolve to not cave first, and eventually she must have decided that holding the back of my head was only hot when positioning a girl for a kiss. Staying there long term didn’t really work, and she was experienced enough to realize that slightly before I did. She glided her hands down until she was casually holding me by the small of my back. It certainly didn’t help that I was half naked, as her palms were noticeably warm against my bare skin. Somewhere along the way, I reached out and delicately took her hips with my own hands. I told myself that it was another way to prove to Annabelle that I wasn’t scared. If I was being honest with myself, however, it was more that keeping them by my sides and doing nothing felt awkward when we were positioned as we were.

Annabelle took things up half a level by using her familiar almost-kiss trick from before. She pressed her lips against mine more definitively than one of her teasing brushes, and slightly parted them as well. Stupidly falling for it, I tried to meet her halfway for the gentle lip lock she was offering. Of course, the second I felt a hint of pressure, she deftly pulled back just enough to keep us from getting any further than that. Although I had walked into the familiar move yet again, I was starting to learn. Rather than chasing her lips, I managed to keep my cool. Waiting for her to come back for another round of teasing brushes, I decided to try the frustratingly hot tactic myself. If Annabelle could do it, then so could I. It wasn’t initiating if the goal was merely to effectively taunt without being the one to actually commit.

I was still way too distracted by the sensual limbo we were collectively creating to think about the fact that I would be ‘winning’ a lot more by simply stepping back and trying to get things back on track. Instead, I was so wrapped up in Annabelle’s warmth and her seductive games that I was determined to show her for once that I wasn’t going to let her tricks work on me. Maybe part of me was also still trying to prove that I was ‘brave,’ albeit once again on Annabelle’s terms. There were certainly better ways than fooling around with a girl, after all.

As I copied her move, knowing deep down that I’d never pull it off as smoothly as she did on my first try, I also braced myself for what might happen if she did finally physically initiate things herself. The last time she had undeniably been the one who started something between us was when she pounced on me for our first kiss. That had been out of nowhere, yet still surprisingly hot for a few seconds before I came to my senses. But now? This amount of build-up was insane. Similar to everything else with Annabelle, socially or sexually, it was tough for me to prepare beyond the immediate present. I was so focused on not kissing her first that I had absolutely no idea what to expect when we got there. Would we melt into something deep and intimate? Or would we explode into passion after existing in our current state for so long and suppressing the underlying flames that would only increase in subtle intensity for as long as they were contained?

Both of those images were enough to stoke those flames and remind me that Annabelle was dangerously attractive despite my best intentions to think of her more as the spoiled eighteen year old girl that I had been hired to teach. I pressed my lips into hers, finding myself instantly tempted to just go for it. Somehow managing to hold back, I was surprised when she actually leaned in to kiss me. She had to be doing it on purpose. The fleeting moment of clarity had made me think about the concept that there was no way Annabelle would fall for the teasing move she had just used on me. For all I knew, she had coined the clever gesture.

Trying to mirror her style, I parted my lips and allowed us to share half a second of pressure. Then, just before it turned into a peck, I shifted my head back an inch or so. Staying close enough for her to pursue my lips if she wanted to, especially now that I had given her a small taste. I had to admit, it was pretty hot. My bedroom experiences before this had been rather straightforward; until Annabelle, I had never considered playing flirty, physical games like this. Probably because I used to feel that flirting and hinting was officially over when clothes were coming off and it was clear that a partner and I were into each other.

I also hadn’t realized just how quiet her suite had gotten, as neither of us had said a word in what felt like forever. That is, until she let out a breathy scoff onto my lips. “Does it feel good?” she whispered. Following my lips just enough to press into them so I could feel her following syllables forming in yet another familiar Annabelle move, she said, “Being in control is sexy, isn’t it?”

Once again, I had to resist the temptation to kiss her. I reluctantly nodded my head, however. It did feel good. Especially to do so to the girl who had effortlessly walked all over me for the last few days. “Mm hmm,” I quietly affirmed. Unlike her, I was finding it difficult to speak after so many minutes of electrifying silence.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she murmured, “Ready to strip me yet?”

I would have preferred another moment or two to process the first half of what she said, but naturally she was moving right on. Back to the suggestion that I should take off her dress. While I was very much in a place where it didn’t take much for my imagination to run away with the projection of how I might go about removing Annabelle’s little black dress, especially since I currently had my hands on her and had already seen her in just a bra and underwear, I was also in the midst of trying to play her game. Self control was so important. Plus there was still a small part of me that knew that I should be putting my clothes on. Except that little voice of reason was rather quiet compared to the overwhelming urge to do all of the things Annabelle were precariously close to doing.

Kissing her. Stripping her. Crossing all the lines I had so recently coached myself to do the complete opposite of.

Being contradictory felt like the safest avenue as I dealt with the ongoing war between my mind and my body. Giving a small shake of my head, belatedly realizing that Annabelle might not have seen the nonverbal answer if her eyes were closed like mine were, I nervously swallowed before muttering, “Tutoring?” It definitely didn’t come out as assertive as I had hoped. Probably because I was so caught up in my efforts to not initiate a kiss with the alluring, young redhead that pulling away felt like a different kind of first move. While I was still lucid enough to throw out the suggestion, I also wasn’t willing to be the first one to break things off. Somehow, that was starting to feel like it would be showing weakness, rather than professionalism.

It was such a strange experience, being vaguely aware of the web I was tangled up in, yet being caught in it nonetheless. Of course, a huge part of the problem was the fact that I was no longer sure if I wanted to get out.

“Is that what you want, pet? For me to tutor you?” Annabelle’s voice was still barely louder than a whisper, yet she managed to put a seductive spin on the soft tone nonetheless.

Also, that wasn’t what I meant and she knew it! Flushing a bit at the heavily sapphic connotations that went with her words, I tried my best to stand my ground despite being very much on my back foot. “Math.” Less is more, right? It was also starting to hit me that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place; if kissing Annabelle first was ‘losing’ now that I had doubled down on it, and breaking things off felt like it would be a different kind of loss, then there was nothing I could do except somehow convince Annabelle to shift gears instead. That, or let her kiss me.

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she took a small step forward while pulling me in with her hands at the same time. Since there was nothing in between us due to the way we were holding each other, it didn’t take long before her chest was up against mine. Annabelle wasn’t quite pressing into my breasts with her own, but it felt like it could happen at any moment.

“Tell you what, Mere,” she said, “If that’s really what you want . . . ” Pausing just long enough to tilt her head and brush my lips for the umpteenth time, she exhaled, “Maybe we should move to the sofa.”