A Fair Exchange

Martha, age 14, has fallen so far behind in math that only a pricy tutor can salvage her credit. Martha agrees to pay for his sessions---but not with money!

Part One

My name is Marty Kasper. In 1985, I was a 36-year-old bachelor who held down four separate jobs simultaneously. I was a bookkeeper for three small companies (that only counts as one job, though!); a weekend cashier at my friends’ family deli; a semiregular newspaper columnist specializing in sports; and a private tutor.

Without a doubt, the tutoring job was the most fun and rewarding of the four. My typical rate in those days was $20 per hour. It was a little bit pricy, but I had a solid reputation for being able to teach elementary school English and arithmetic to any student who legitimately wanted to learn. Most of my clients came via word-of-mouth from other satisfied customers. People liked me and my services, and they enthusiastically let their friends, relatives and neighbors know about it. That is unquestionably the best type of advertising.

I was also known for being lax on fees. If financial straits were truly an issue, I’d give clients price breaks—especially if I were seeing them for more than an hour per week. I was also known, on occasion, to exchange tutoring for sex. I had done that five times in the past. Each time it was at the student’s suggestion—and they were all of legal age. Three of them were college girls who required help putting together term papers. The other two were adult females who were taking correspondence or night school courses. My usual deal with these desperate females was three hours of tutoring for a single hour of screwing. I was generally happy with that ratio.

One evening in May 1985, I got a call out of the blue from a woman named Emmaline Furbey. She asked if I was “the famous tutor” she heard so much about. I replied there was no doubt I was a tutor, but my being famous was rather subjective. Undaunted, she said, “Jenny Nicholson thinks you’re famous.”
Jenny was one of the five clients from my past whom I had screwed in lieu of receiving cash payments for my tutoring services. Therefore, as soon as her name was mentioned, I could safely assume this new caller knew about my arrangement with Jenny and wanted something similar. My assumption was accurate—but with an unexpected twist.

Emmaline wanted to see me in a hurry. Her address was about a 15-minute drive from my house. Since I had no further commitments that night, I happily told Emmaline I would come to see her to discuss what she wanted from me. That plan worked well for her, too. I hung up the phone and immediately said to myself, “I hope this one is hot.” Three of the female tutees I had bedded were at least moderately attractive. One was plain. The fifth was somewhat on the homely side. She did have a nice figure, however, so that offset her noticeable shortcomings in the beauty department.

When I got to her address it was located in a unit of subsidized housing. This was unusual for me, because my tutoring fees were slightly pricy based on what some other people charged. People who lived in subsidized housing often didn’t have a lot of cash to spend on educational extras. Thus, most of my clients’ families were generally well-to-do.

When I knocked on the door, I was greeted by a woman who appeared to be close to my age. She was an attractive female, so I was indeed glad I had made the effort to see her. Then I got the shock of my life: Emmaline, hadn’t called me for herself. Instead, she wanted me to be a math tutor for her 14-year-old daughter who was seated at the kitchen table.

Emmaline introduced me to Martha, an eighth-grade student who was quite attractive herself. In fact, with her noticeable figure, pretty face, and a head of wavy blonde hair, she was extraordinarily good looking for her age. “Marty, this is Martha, my daughter,” Emmaline told me. We shook hands. “Martha has gotten herself in a mess at school. We’re both hoping you can help get her out of trouble so she can salvage her math credit. Her attending high school in September depends upon it.”

I was offered a chair and a plate of cookies by Emmaline. Then I was given a Reader’s Digest version of Martha’s sketchy history with math. Martha was an average student who had always struggled with math since the first grade. She was very weak on the subject’s basics—all of them. Martha often relied on counting using her fingers or with other objects. In other words, she couldn’t do rudimentary calculations in her head. Now, with less than a couple of months left in the school year, she needed to raise her grade to a passing level. What really irked her mother was that Martha had declined offers from her teacher for after-school math help. She preferred to pretend there wasn’t a problem rather than deal with the obvious fact that there was one.

The good news was that her teacher, Mrs. Coombs, was very open-minded if Martha showed the initiative to redo all her lessons. She said she would give Martha a second chance to attempt all the tests she had failed since the 1984-85 school year began. I said I’d do my very best to get Martha up to speed—but my rate was $20 per hour. I got a curious blank stare from both females in the room when I mentioned money.

Emmaline finally said, “Marty, I heard through the grapevine that you sometimes accept another form of payment for your tutoring services other than money. Is that true?”

I got to the point quickly by saying, “If you’ve been speaking with Jenny Nicholson, then you already know that’s true. Yes, very occasionally I accept sexual favors in lieu of cash payments for my tutoring. I never suggest it myself, but if a female client puts forth the offer, I’ll consider it. The answer won’t always be yes, however.” I did not mention that every time such an arrangement had been proffered to me in the past, my answer had always been an eager and affirmative one!

There was more awkward silence. I was expecting Emmaline to say that she’d provide sexual favors for me in exchange for tutoring her daughter. That wasn’t the case. Instead, I heard this startling statement from her. “Martha is sexually active and has no qualms about jumping from bed to bed. Since she got herself into this mess by refusing Mrs. Coombs’ extra help, I’ll leave it up to her to decide. Your tutoring rate is beyond my budget, Marty, so if Martha truly wants your help with math, she’ll be the one doing the sex acts, not me!”

That shocked me. I received a second jolt when Martha said, “That arrangement is alright by me. Sex is no big deal to me—and Marty is an attractive man. How about an hour of tutoring for an hour of fucking? What do you say to that offer, Marty?”

Considering my ratio in the past had been three hours of tutoring for just one hour of sex, and the offer was coming from a desirable 14-year-old cutie, I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

Martha smiled and said, “Can we start tonight, Marty?”

Part Two

I immediately sat down at the table with Martha. We spent 60 uninterrupted minutes mostly doing drills designed for her to memorize the times tables and be less reliant on using her fingers to do calculations. Martha was surprisingly good at it once she understood that multiplication was just a quick way to add the same numbers over and over. Somehow that concept had previously eluded her. As our hour wound down, I told Martha she was probably strong enough to re-try one of the tests she had failed in September; it was comprised of 50 basic times-tables questions. She had gotten just 17 right in her initial attempt at the start of the school year. (When Martha tried it again at school the following day, she got 42 out of 50. That was certainly a noteworthy improvement!)

Our carnal arrangement was to have sex immediately after each lesson. Considering I was seeing Martha about five days a week, I was getting plenty of teenage poontang. After that first night of math instruction, Martha and I adjourned to her bedroom. The only thing her mother said to me was that she was going to bed herself, so I could just leave her daughter’s bedroom, see myself out of the house, and head home whenever we were finished our screwing. I had heard of liberal-minded parenting before, but Emmaline Furbey’s attitude was truly in a category by itself.

I surmised that daughter was a lot like mother. I got the impression from Martha that having sex was as common for her as going to a convenience store was for me. “What type of sex acts should we do for an hour?” she asked me nonchalantly. “You’ll find I’m open-minded about these things.” That attitude was no surprise to me whatsoever.

“Just straight fucking is good enough for me, Martha,” I told her with a smile. “I’m excited already.” That I was. I could feel an erection steadily rising in my trousers.

Martha undressed quickly, hopped into bed, and immediately spread her legs. I hadn’t expected to be taken so literally. I anticipated to have at least a little bit of foreplay before getting down to business with Martha. I climbed into her spacious bed beside her where I embraced her and kissed her on the cheek.

“Oh, you want romance too!” she said, completely surprised by my amorous actions. “Yeah, Marty, that’s okay with me. In fact, it will be a pleasant change for me. Most of the boys I fuck just want immediate intercourse.”

I replied, “I think you’re beautiful, Martha, so I do want a bit of snuggling and other such fun before I shove my penis into your vagina. I assumed that was normal. It is for me, but I’m twice your age. Maybe times have changed.”

Martha wasn’t interested in hearing any more discussion on the topic. Frankly, I didn’t want to waste any more time, either. We embraced and kissed for a few minutes while I groped her lovely tits. When I was a teenager, I had the good fortune of screwing a few girls who were Martha’s age or thereabouts. I couldn’t recall a single one who had more appealing breasts than this girl I had in my arms.

“Foreplay is fun, Marty,” she declared as I rubbed her nipples with my thumbs. “Let’s make sure we start with it all the time.”

“Absolutely!” I declared. “Maybe guys my age have the right idea about sex, Martha.”

Not long afterward, I engaged in side-by-side intercourse with Martha so I could continue to play with those wonderful, pliable treasures on her torso while screwing her at the same time. I suspect that must have been a new sexual position for her because she said, “Ooh! I like this too. I think you’re going to be a fun bedmate to have, Marty.” I thanked her for the compliment, gave her half a dozen long thrusts with my stiff member, and ejaculated a load of semen into Martha’s warm vagina. I let out a loud moan to express my general satisfaction with the entire arrangement.

For the remaining 45 minutes of my hour of nookie, I continued to fondle Martha’s beautiful breasts. I also planted kisses on her from head to toe. It was a bit of romantic silliness which she really seemed to enjoy. “You’re definitely the craziest guy I’ve ever screwed, Marty,” she told me kindly. “Take that as a compliment.” I did.

The following evening, Martha and I worked on conquering long division as I explained how fractions really were just another form of division. Somehow, Martha had never realized that concept, either. This proved to be much more difficult than the previous day’s multiplying had been for her. Things got rapidly better, however, when I showed her how a times table could double as a dividing aid. I figured our second session of math was nearly as successful as the first.

Our second sex session was quite enjoyable, too! I decided to give Martha’s pussy a world-class licking. I buried my face between her thighs and went at it. Judging by the way Martha was thrashing all over the bed, I was being an effective lover. This was confirmed when Martha experienced a massive orgasm. This positive development only increased my enthusiasm for licking her vagina. Finally, I said, “I think you owe me a blowjob, Martha.”

“Probably more than one!” Martha conceded. We got out of bed so Martha could kneel before me and do it right. Actually, I was surprised that her act of fellatio started out as merely mediocre. I decided to coach her through the various stages that pleased me: alternating licks and sucks and using her hands to fondle my balls. When I responded especially favorably to Martha licking the tip of my penis, she focused on that almost entirely. It felt wonderful, but it put me over the edge quicker than I had hoped. When I felt an ejaculation coming on, I drove my dick into her mouth as far as it could go. She gagged slightly as I began to come. It was another terrific orgasm. Martha managed to swallow all but of few drops of my load which fell sexily from her full mouth to the carpeted floor. “Such a waste!” I told her when I pointed to it. Then I embraced her warmly. We got back into bed and just engaged in passionate caressing. I noticed that our carnal activities had lasted well more than an hour. Martha, apparently, was in no hurry to see me go home.

In total, I tutored Martha 37 separate times—which meant our sexual romps were exactly the same number. I figured I had made the greatest financial arrangement in tutoring history. On one or two occasions, I got a little horny and began my sexual fun while we were still working on math at the kitchen table. Once, while writing out some problems with my right hand, I put my left hand inside Martha’s panties and sensually rubbed her vagina. I apologized to Emmaline when she caught me. Martha, on the other hand, whispered to me when her mother left the room, “Don’t ever apologize for doing that, Marty! It felt wonderful!”

Martha’s math skills did improve. In her re-tests, she averaged slightly over 80 percent, which astonished her teacher who had practically given up on her before I entered the picture. The night of our 37th and final session, as I was putting my tutoring supplies away, Martha sweetly said to me, “I want to reward you, Marty. Let’s do something in bed that we haven’t done before.”

“About the only thing we haven’t done is anal sex,” I told her. “I’ve never done that in my life. Honestly, I don’t really have a great desire to do it.”

“Same with me,” Martha added. “I don’t really want to try it, either.” Then, applying 14-year-old girl logic, she concluded. “So let’s do it!”

“Okay,” I said. “What the hell!”

Oddly enough, the novelty of this sex act got me harder than in any of our previous 36 romps. Martha knelt on the edge of the bed while I stood on the floor with what was likely the stiffest erection of my life. “Here we go, Martha!” I warned her. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

I placed my dick’s head at her anus and slowly pushed forward. It was certainly a different sensation compared to screwing Martha’s delightful and familiar pussy three dozen times. Martha seemed to be okay with it, at least when the anal penetration began. The noises she was making seemed to be more contented than painful. To my surprise I had driven my hard rod fully inside her butt in under a minute. I took that success as a sign that I should fuck her ass with the same gusto I did her vagina. I did. This time Martha made plenty of noise.

“I don’t think I like this, Marty,” she said. Please pull out!”

“Not quite yet!” I said without much compassion. “Give me another half a minute or so to finish. I want to come inside your cute bum just because it’s something different.”

“Please Marty, I really don’t like this!” Martha insisted with a panicky voice. “You can fuck my pussy all day and I won’t complain, but please pull your dick out of my bum right now!”

“Oh, alright!” I capitulated. About five seconds after I removed my phallus from Martha’s anus, I ejaculated all over her back. It was likely the strongest cum shot I had produced. Martha, who couldn’t see out of the back of her head, had trouble believing it was just semen. “Did you pour something onto my back, Marty?” she asked.

“Only my love juice from the usual source, honey!” I told her. “Martha, this was the best and strongest cum shot I’ve ever had. Maybe there’s something to this bum-fucking business after all.”

Martha laughed and said, “Marty, dear, you’ll have to find another student who likes getting it up the ass, because I don’t.”

“I guess it really doesn’t matter, does it, Martha?” I noted. “Tonight was our last tutoring session, so that means this is also our last fucking session. All good things must end, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed your sexy body, Martha, especially your wonderful tits. They are nothing short of awesome. I’m going to miss them.”

Martha turned around on the bed to look me squarely in the eye. She smiled warmly and said, “Who said we have to stop screwing, Marty?” she asked rhetorically. “I’ve liked having you share my bed since that first night six weeks ago when you were totally focused on my tits. I don’t want our sex to stop tonight—or ever! Really, why should it have to stop?”

That was the most welcome news I had ever received in my life!