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The Silver Tutor (Silver117xAkatala

Silver117

Silver117

Pulsar
Joined
Jul 18, 2010
My name is Silver, Lucian Silver. I’m a French teacher at Snowfall Academy. My life is simple, yet exciting. Simple for the fact that this job is easy and the students are good. What makes it exciting is that I’m the only male at this academy. It makes me chuckle seeing all the girls blush around me, but I usually don’t pay attention to it.

It was a Saturday afternoon when I reached a condo of one of my student. Though very smart, her grades in my class are very poor. Thanks to a meeting with her parents, I agreed to be her tutor for the rest of the semester. As I smile and my silver hair brushed against the wind., I head to the door, hoping she was there.
 
Abigail Shelton took care not to let her black patin mary jane shoes click too loudly against the tile flooring as she walked from the staircase to answer the door. Without thinking, she opened the door with a knee-jerk greeting, "Good afternoon. How may I help you?" However the last to words faded as her mint green eyes widened in shock at seeing her French teacher standing at her front door. True, she knew he was scheduled to come today to tutor her, however apparently she had never fully comprehended the effect of seeing him outside the class room, let alone at home, would have on her.

Blushing profusely, her hands brushed back long riotous curls of champagne and strawberry blond, then fiddled with the frills of white lace on her burgundy rose dress. A burgundy bow pinned back the side locks from her face. Somehow, her attire had her looking younger than sixteen. She stammered a little as she spoke again, "M-my parents ap-pologize, but they had to leave for the afternoon to visit my grandfather. P-please, do come in."

She stepped back, narrowly avoiding tripping over her own feet to let him in the door. In the golden light of her home, the natural paleness of her skin, spattered here and there with flecks of gold and coffee freckles and beauty mark moles, didn't seem near as severe as it normally did under the bright fluorescent lights that hung in her classroom.
 
It was odd for me to see a student outside their normal bule and white school uniform, But it also felt good seeing that their just normal kids. I notice how see looked and I smile; she had beauty for smart student. "It's no problem. I'm just glad to have found this place," I said with a smile. I soon took off my sunglasses so she could see my silver eyes.

Since it was the weekend I decided to be laid back and wear my blue sleveless t-shirt and blue jeans. I had no clue why she was acting like that but it did made me lightly chuckle. "Thank you for letting me in. There's no need to blush Abigail, I am your teacher," I smiled and entered with my French book.
 
The sight of his silver eyes flashing brilliantly in such a casual environment, not to mention close proximity, sent a fresh wave of shock coursing down her spine like little bolts of lightning. in the classroom, it was easy to school herself to look slightly elsewhere than those eyes while still maintaining an attentive posture. Up close, that little blinders trick wouldn't work so well. He was mesmerizing as he was before he unleashed those piercing eyes. She felt suddenly all too warm, tingly, and something else she couldn't identify. She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath, ordering her mind to focus on being a polite hostess and student rather than letting her treasonous body distract her so.

Opening her eyes, she smiled and tried to ignore his allure as she spoke, "Certainly, you are right, Professor. I apologize for my foolish behavior. I don't know what came over be, but I will see that it doesn't happen again. Right this way, sir." She lead him to a parlor tucked away in the back with a lovely picture window featuring a view the lake frames by autumn colored trees and tall elegant evergreens. On a large round antique table sat school supplies and a platter of various snack items and a pot of spiced cider next to a pair of mugs. Sticks of cinnamon lay ready to garnish the drinks.

"Let me know if it gets chilly for you. I can switch on the gas fireplace in the corner," she said as she courtesied beside the table.

Also in the room was a wall of bookshelves and display cases showing off various knickknacks, several colorful potted plants, two three-foot bronze sculptures of Apollo and Hermes on black marble pedestals, several impressionist paintings, a pair of navy armchairs, several birds-eye maple end tables, and a coffee-colored large soft-leather couch accented with aged brass buttons that gave it a sort of Victorian look. A soft rug of brown fur, likely grizzly bear, trimmed in a circle lay on the floor by the bricked hearth. The fireplace, though gas, was designed to look authentic. One could easily see why it would be a favored place to study or simply relax with a good thick novel.

((ooc: Sorry about the length, I seem to be having fun getting all descriptive on people today. lol))
 
I looked around and got impressed by the placed she lived in. All those knickknacks, greek myth statues, not to mention the great scenery I got to chance to see. This was way better than the apartment I'm used to live in. I continued to look at her and still see the coloring around her cheeks. It was a good feeling that she had feeliing, though I believe it's just shyness. I sat on a chair admireing the stuff on the table as she courtesied. "That would be fine Abby," I smiled and nicknamed her. I go over to her and gently placed my hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad your clam now. Let's begin your lesson," I said looking into her eyes

((lol. it's cool))
 
How did he manage to overwhelm her so effortlessly? First he called her by the nickname so so adored but never heard as she was too reserved to admit how much she hated hearing her full name. Abigail, it sounded like some shriveled old dowager, like the grandmother that was always finding some pathetic fault of hers to nitpick. Then, he'd placed his hand on her shoulder. In most situations such familiarity was nothing, but this was a school teacher who's awards and appearance had made him nothing short of an angelic celebrity who's attentions was fought over on a regular basis. Who was she to merit the warmth of his fingertips upon her person, even in such an innocent manner? Finally, there was those shimmering quicksilver eyes again, daring her to return their gaze and get caught in their spell.

The chime of a grandfather clock jolted her back to complete attention on the here and now. She dared, for a moment to wonder how long she had frozen, before she blinked her soft green eyes with long blond lashes.

"Lesson, yes..." she stammered as she shifted awkwardly into a chair and plucked up her textbook. She flipped through the pages to find the chapter the class was currently on, then pulled out her notebook and pencil. "Commençons s'il vous plait."
 
It almost looked like she was about to melt. I can't see why, I'm just a French teacher after all. I just want her to relax and to begin the lesson. I soon notice her green eyes. I do have to admit they were cute on her. Not to mention how she looked. on a saturday. Her silky hair, her blushing cheeks, her soft lips, her awesome legs, her nice firm round...wait! What am I saying? Thank goodness for the grandfather clock.
I soon brabbed my books and began. "Abby, repeat what I say: Bonjour, comment allez-vous aujourd'hui?" I didn't know it yet, but my hand glided to her hand and I held it gently.
 
Abby made a great effort to repeat the words slowly, yet her tongue seemed to fail to reproduce some of the more fluid nuances as she spoke, "Bonjour, comment allez-vous aujourd'hui?"

Frowning in frustration at herself, she tried it again. The second time through, her words died under a case of tangle tongue. The large warm masculine hand encasing her small cool one sent a shiver racing through her while goosebumps prickled across her fair skin. She cleared her throat, frowning further at the flood of heat tingling in her cheeks.

"I apologize, Professor," she said swiftly. "Please continue."

It was only after the words came out that she realized how easily they could be taken for a double entendre. Even worse, she couldn't push herself to correct the implication. She lifted her gaze to peer directly at him through her golden lashes, daring to let his eyes swallow her as she waited for his reaction. Could he hear the beat of her heart which pounded like a thundering drum in her own ears?
 
Poor abby, she was trying so hard and doing her very best through her attempts to speak in French. I held on to her hans and her face turned red; probbly more red than before. "You're doing well Abby, no need to apologize," I tell her. "Now lets try telling people your name. Just say 'mon nom est' and then your name rather it be Abigail or Abby," I tell her. Once again my warm hand moved from her hhand to her blushing cheeks. As I gently caress it, I tell her, "I believe you can do it." My silver eyes continued to be locked on hers.
 
It took a moment for her to coax her voice to work, but she managed to reply in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper, "M-mon nom est Abby." Why did her voice have to quiver like that? Why did she have to act like such a fool? He was clearly trying to help her, soothe her nerves so that she could perform better with the lesson. Yet, his hand on her cheek made her heart twitter and strange sensations course through her young body. Without realizing it, she ever so lightly leaned in, turning her head just a tad so that her cheek lay more fully in his palm. She was slightly dazed as she repeated the phrase again, yet somehow that allowed the words to roll better off her languid tongue, "Mon nom est Abby."

Even as she finished speaking, her lips remained parted just slightly, perhaps accommodating how her breath changed to meet the quicker beat of her heart. She didn't recognize herself, these actions her body took without consulting her. Though, somehow she was ceasing to care, merely noting the changes and rolling with them, compliant as though this were nothing so completely new to her.
 
I was impress, very impress. With her calming down she can preform better. "Great job, you sounded like a beautiful french lady," I tell her I soon notice that her lips were parted and her cheek was in my plam more. I couldn't help but blush at this as I soon leaned over to her. What's wrong with me? What is my body doing? Inch by inch I was getting closer and closer to her soft lips. When I stop, my lips very close to hers. If I press foward i would be kissing her. I wanted to pull back, but my body was denying me that right. "Should we continue" I softly said and her.
 
Her emerald eyes, darked and glassy with unchecked passion hooded a little more as her body started to melt in towards his, the curve of table barely acting as a barrier against her midriff. She smiled faintly, thrilled at the compliment received in reward for her speaking. When she answered him, she answered in the one of the few French phrases that she had managed to retain, "Oui, sil'vous plait." The way her lips feathered across his as she spoke sent another thrill through her that left her lips parted a little parted a little more as a whisper of something between a sigh of pleasure and a pleading moan escaped her increasingly uninhibited porcelain throat.

Oh how her mind grew ever more hazy while anticipation quivered through her belly. It was all so very new to her, but in this moment, with this man, she couldn't bring herself to care. It were as though reality had bled into a dream. What a lovely dream.
 
Her lips feathering against mine put a shiver down my spine. Her voice was like an angel from heaven. My heart was racing along with hers, if not faster. I felt like a puppet as my hand caress her cheeks even more. I wanted to beg the puppetmaster to stop for she is my student. However, another side of me wanted to stay like this, if not more. "Repeat after me...Embrasse-moi, car je suis dans l'amour" I said. I couldn't believe what I just said. I was suppose to teach her about how to say her favorite color next, but I asked her to kiss me. Soon the cruel puppetmaster pushed my head forawrd and I kissed her innocent soft lips. The he pulled me back but not by much and looked in her green eyes again.
 
The warmth he radiated through that simple kiss dazzled her. She found herself caught on the alluring, exquisite sound of his voice injected with such a provocative tone. It moved her in a way she could have never possibly imagined. The nervous constrictions on her voice, the way she moved, melted like ice under a Mediterranean sun. Though she still spoke barely above a whisper, an infusion of boldness faded in, drawing out the words she spoke, "Embrasse-moi... car je suis.. dans l'amour."

French was indeed a language of passion, for only in passion could she manage to let it flow like the sensual trickling mountain stream it should resemble. There was a look in her eyes, at the moment, that seemed to promise she would follow him anywhere like a mouse after the pied piper. When had she shifted to where the table no longer blocked her from sliding closer? Of it's own accord, her body arched to press flush against the curve of his, the generous curve of her breasts obvious as they pillowed against him. Was it her imagination or did her bra seem a little tighter than usual? She couldn't fathom why. She tossed the thought away in favor of focusing on the feel and sound of him, his breathing, his voice, his touch.
 
I could almost hear the sound of the puppetmaster laughing as I heard her say that. The passion, the heat, it was driving me crazy, driving me up the wall and onto the ceiling. "Très bon, very good" i said. That damn Puppetmatser controlled my body again. He forced my arms to move the table away so nothing was between us but air and oppertunity. I satood up and go to Abby. Standing her up, my arms goes around her waist and i give her another kiss. This kiss was far more passionaye than the last. It was like I was saying to her that I wanted and need her. "Je te veux, mon amour. Say it," I said before I kissed her again.
 
For a moment, he could feel the sag in her muscles as she melted in immediate response to his words of approval. Yet, just as swiftly, a surge of fluid yet sure strength collected in her spine to rush through her small seemingly delicate frame so that she moved with him like gently cooked pasta. Yielding yet supplely fervent.

His renewed kiss, stronger than the last, stoked the flame within her. She drank it in, studying it as she did everything new to her. Just as she was to respond, he broke away. She just barely managed to restrain her urge to moan in protest.

The words he asked her to speak didn't need translation. The way he spoke them, the way his body spoke them said everything. Her recital of those words would have been just as clear as her previous recital had his lips not turned them into a breathy mumble as he stole her ability to speak. Her return of his kiss was open mouthed and light as a breath shuttered out of her. She took but a moment to gasp before sealing her lips against his, something within her driving her to devour his lips with hers just as he had done with her words. For as new to this as she was, she held no lack of passion nor shy resistance. Something in her young blooming body told her she needed this. Like the air she needed to breathe. She burned. And although this pressing harder into his, letting her arms drift to clutch at him, wrapping securely around the back of his neck, made her burn all the more, it also soothed her. It soothed in a way she had no words to describe.
 
I knew she understood my words, the kiss was proof of that. I really ment it as I continues the kiss. Soon, like a serpant, my tongue peered out of my mouth and entered hers. It was on the hunt for her tongue. It search high and low inside her wanting to just play and dance with it. It finally connects and it soon became real love to me. My heart mealted, my spine shivered and my hands became something more. It was twitching, shaking wanting to touch all over her like a frantic explorer. My hands did just that. Feeling allover her body. Starting at her back followed up to her curvy hips, then to her waist until finally reaching her innocent breasts. I couldn't stop myself, and frankly, I didn't want to as I began to massage them gently.
 
The brush of his tongue was startling to her at first. Yet the foreign sensation swiftly turned deeply arousing. She let him play at first, again, studying his methods, weighing her reactions to them. Then his hands began to roam her curves. What started as a distraction turned into an additional form of seduction. When he cupped her breasts and began to caress them, she moaned into his mouth. When his talented finger crossed her sensitive nipples, she broke away to gasp, her eyes, having long since shut, squeezing tighter shut as she trembled in pleasure.

Her green eyes opened briefly, then shut again as she found his mouth again. Her tongue slipped out to seek his. What started as a slow, hesitant slide against his tongue became faster, bolder as she tasted him. Her tongue twined with his, learning to wrestle while her lips nudged harder against his. A break, a gasp, and she came back for more. She found herself suckling at his lips while her tongue resumed its dance with his, then relaxing against him, then suckling at his tongue. Her hands began to follow the rhythm she was finding as they dared to wander the masculine muscles of his back, fingertips lightly digging at them at times just to feel them move while her own body trembled.

What was once a simple flame was becoming a raging fire. One that pulsed decadently through her body, driving it to do things it never had before. It coaxed her muscles to cling and quiver, submit then demand, a back and forth give and take. It was a fire that burned straight down through her core. It pooled in her breasts, in her hardening nipples. It danced down through her belly, to lap at a place hidden between her thighs. The more it lapped, singed, burned, and stabbed, the more breathless and wanton she became. Her hair might be far more blond than red, but there was a vibrant spirit inside her awakening to reveal a hidden passion surely blooded by a tempestuous Celtic ancestry somewhere in her genes. Who would have ever thought this devoutly straight-laced good little girl would have such a boldly wicked secret side hidden away? She, herself, was so shocked by it, she could do nothing but roll with it.
 
I must...I had to...I want her right here, right now. I'm just so suprised for only a second. After all, she's my student and I'm her teacher. What started as unwielding innocence has now turned into a fire, a fire that was hotter than the sun itself. I couldn't believe she return the favor with her tongue. It dance, teased, and toyed within my own mouth. I didn't had a problem as they tango with each other. I finally broke the kiss and steped back. Eventhough I did, it didn't ment I was going to stop. No, I was just getting started. My hands reached for her shiirt and lifted it over her head. It cause her bra covred breast to bounce a bit as it tossed it to the ground. I soon unbutton the buttons on my shirt and opens it revealing my muscular upper body. I need ie friction, friction against each other, so I held her, kissed her and move my body against hers.
 
Abby's breathing came fast and hard as he broke away. Her eyes hesitated to open, and when they did, they only did so to half mast. They were dark and hazy with passion, just as her face was flushed pastel rosy pink across her cheeks and deeper, darker in her lusciously swollen lips. She raised her arms willingly to let him peel her dress off her suddenly too warm body. Her sheer slip dress went with the gown, having gotten caught with her skirts in his grip. Chill bumps briefly raced across her arms, legs and belly as she stood there in just a lacy white bra and conservative white panties. Her legs trembled slightly, though less from chill and more from a sudden gelatin feeling that filled them as the fire in her core burned hotter, brighter, in anticipation.

When he closed the gap between their bodies once more, holding her tightly as he seized her mouth and rubbed his shirtless body against hers, she gave a deep-throated moan into his mouth. Her arms automatically locked back around his broad shoulders as her thighs parted, allowing that strange hard bulge in his pants to connect more fully with that super hypersensitive place that burned between her legs. This time, her weight surrendered against him as she clutched, trembling against him while giving an out right light cry of bliss. It wasn't a climax, but it was certainly a sensual flare that told him her womanhood was fully awake and begging. She let her thighs part just a little more as her hips instinctually pressed in against him on the next pass of that bulge. Her hard nipples ached oh so lovely as his chest rubbed across them through the material of her bra. If he dared to look, he would find her panties displaying a noticeable wet spot over her womanhood, which was lightly covered in hair just as blond as the rest of her. Her breath hitched on that pass, then on another, she gave another shivering breathy cry of unbridled bliss. If this was how she responded with the first and simplest strokes of contact even through clothes, one could only wonder and imagine how much more expressive she would be in her first wild throws of climax. It was definitely a good thing that no one but they were in the dwelling, as she would not be one of the quiet types when tupped.
 
My God, this is so good, and we barely just begun to fully pleasure ourselves. The peeting, the rubbing, the grinding, and even the kisssing was getting hotter and hotter. I was excited and very happy, but when my hard member rubbed against her womanhood that has been covered by her jeans and panties, I got completely horny. Without a second thought in my mind, I unzip her jeans to see her matching white panties. I soon took my pants off and showed her my silver boxers, not to mention my bulge which was getting harder by the minute,maybe by the second. I used my strength to carry her in my arms, and stright to a bedroom. I didn't know if it was her room or not, but I didn't care. I wanted her and no one else. I lay her on the bed and gvae a good long look at her hot body before laying on top of her. I unhook her white bra to see her beasts with very hard nipples and begins to gently suck on them.
 
She was near mindless by this point, merely clinging with her arms moving up around his neck as he scooped her into his arms. Her breathing was fast and hard, her face flushed. Her eyes slightly from brief tears of pleasure that she had shed.

She found herself being transported from the study to her bedroom. Her bed was a queen size covered in a deep rose duvet while the room itself was a mixture of greens and soft reds. Like a rose garden. Actually roses seemed to be a reoccurring theme in the pattern on the bed clothes to the wall paper to the lamps and knickknacks. It caused her mind to shift into a sense where the world fell away to where there was just him and her surrounded by roses. It was a heady illusion that drove her need harder. Her eyes focused on a throbbing pulse point in his neck as he shut the door. She leaned up to see what that place tasted like, kneading it with her lips and tongue, the suckling at it while her tongue caressed it.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back in her bed with his long masculine body descending to cover her dainty feminine figure. She shuttered at the feeling, savoring it. That is until her bra vanished and his lips were suddenly on one of her hard and aching nipples. She arched into him, her head tilting back slightly as she made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a hoarse cry. Her thighs, which had fallen open to accommodate him spread a little wider apart beneath him. Her hand moved on its own to find his and grasp it and bring it to cup her other breast. Meanwhile, she panted beneath him, sweat collecting in her hair to curl the strawberry blond tresses tighter where they grew damp.
 
I love it when she moan more than ever. It felt good sucking on her breasts. Her nipples so erect that my tongue had no choice but to play with them. All the while I kept thinking that this nice smart student wanted me more and more. Suprisingly, so did I. Her moans, her lips, her entire body, I wanted it all. I gave one lasting suck before looking into her eyes. "I think were alittle over dress" I gently whisper in her ear. I slid down her body, kissing her body along the way, until I reached her panties. They were damp due to the pleasure that I gaver. Slowly I slid them off her revealing her hot wet pussy. I gave a sly smile and began to lick there.
 
Her core ached the more he licked, suckled and otherwise fondled with her breasts. She moaned softly, writhing gently beneath him in pleasure. Her eyes watched him move, their color hazy and dark with desire as she lifted her hips so that he could remove her panties. It was embarrassing how moist she was down there, the air current teasing the moist thin patch of blond curls which had been trimmed to fit into a modern swimsuit. Yet when his mouth kissed her there, running his tongue over that most sensitive place, she shuttered as a hoarse cry erupted from her throat at a new pleasure that felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before. She moaned and tossed her head while her shaking hands moved to slip figures into his silver hair and hold him there. Her thighs, meanwhile splayed spread eagle, opening herself fully to that hot tongue and mouth. Oh, god, how the heat built in her belly with a new sort of pressure. She urged him, no she begged him for more. She felt she would die of this heat and pressure if he didn't give more. Even the smell of her own thickly wet arousal was a heady aphrodisiac that made her crave more.
 
Oh my God, she taste so good. My tongue couldn't get away from her pussy, even if I try very, very hard to. It was moist, soothing and sweet all at once with every lick. I soon felt her hips arching, her legs spreading wider, and her hand on my long silver hair. It was like she was saying to me, "For the love of God, don't stop, please don't stop. I beg of you!" I couldn't disappoint my beautiful student, so I continued on. My tongued actually going inside her, tasting, feeling her getting hotter and hotter by the second. Her thick sweet liquid hitting my tongue and mouth was tasty and I grinned again. I soon teased her very sensative clit. I licked, kissed, and sucked it hoping to turned her horsed moans into screams of unadulterated pleasure. I was so happy that she was loving this, but I soon wanted a turn. I removed her hand and stood up. Slowly I removed my boxers and exposed and big hard cock to her. "Would you like a taste?" I asked and smiled.
 
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