Ten Years After the Talk

An amorous girl asks her tutor where babies come from. He tells her but says she must wait ten years to have sex with him. A decade later they meet by chance.

Part One

My name is Ronald Bygraves. When I first began to tutor students as my livelihood when I was 30, I was cautioned by several relatives and friends of mine (who were all classroom teachers) that I’d have to handle students of various descriptions. There would be shy pupils, garrulous ones, rebellious types, studious ones, and ones whom I had to constantly motivate. The one category I was not told about was amorous students. They turned out to be a pleasant surprise to me. There have been a few of them over the years.

About three years into my career, I was hired to tutor a brother and a sister who lived in a neighboring city. My one-way trip to the Kensington house normally took 25 minutes if the traffic was favorable. The brother, Mason, was ten; his sister, Kelsey, was six. Mason was weak in several subjects while she seemed to be a capable student. One thing Kelsey was capable of was unfiltered affection toward me. It was very flattering.

A typical session with Kelsey began with the two of us sitting beside each other at the family’s kitchen table. Kelsey insisted on sitting beside me rather than across the table from me as Mason always did. There was a good reason for this. This sweet little girl (who had lovely eyelashes, black hair and a slightly swarthy complexion because her mother was from Costa Rica) was greatly interested in romancing me! Every week, before Kelsey’s 30-minute session was over, she would be on my lap clinging to me, telling me that she loved me more than anyone else excluding her family members. Oddly her mother didn’t seem to care. She’d leave us alone, and return at the approximate time we finished and discover Kelsey basically draped over me. As long as Kelsey’s assignments were completed, she didn’t care. I think Kelsey’s behavior was totally anticipated by her mother. As early as my second weekly trip there, I was told, “In case you hadn’t figured it out, Ronald, Kelsey is quite fond of you. She has been since the first second she met you. That’s what she told me the other day. You may have gathered that she’s a very affectionate girl.”

“Well, that’s patently obvious!” I said. “I’m quite fond of Kelsey, too.” I lifted Kesley off her feet and gave her an enormous bear hug. I also kissed her on the cheek. I tutored Mason for a full hour. By the time I’d finished working with him, Kelsey had returned to the kitchen with a love letter for me, done with her best first-grade printing. How could I not respond favorably to that? I wrote her a quick missive on the pad of yellow lined paper I always had with me for my tutoring sessions. It succinctly said, “Ronald Bygraves loves Kelsey Kensington—and always will!”

“Ronald,” Kelsey informed me, “I’m going to take this note to school to show my friends, and then I’m going to keep it forever.” She kissed my cheek and ran upstairs to her room.

“Kelsey is just plain goofy!” Mason said to me with a hint of disgust in his voice when his sister was out of earshot.

“No, Mason,” his mother promptly corrected him. “She’s just an affectionate little girl who has a big case of puppy love for her tutor. If I were six years old again, I think I’d be writing love notes to Ronald, too.”

Is it any wonder why the Kensington household quickly became my favorite tutoring venue?

Part Two

Things didn’t change very much between the two of us over the next year and a half. If anything, Kelsey became more amorous to me than ever. “It’s okay if you want to put your arms around me while I’m doing these math questions, Ronald!” she’d sweetly inform me. I took that more as an order than a suggestion. We only engaged in loving embraces and occasional kisses; there was nothing whatsoever sexual between the two of us. (Of course, because of her young age, I could have found myself in big trouble with the law had that been the case!) I frequently brought Kelsey bags of treats from a bulk candy store that I frequented. I also brought her gifts for Christmas and her birthday. (I did that for all my students, but the presents I brought for Kelsey were far more extravagant than I gave to any other tutee I had.)

Kelsey liked to chat with me regarding whatever popped into her head. “May I ask you something, Ronald?” she’d say in an irresistible voice.

“You may ask me anything you like, my love,” was my usual reply to her. One day, as Kelsey approached her eighth birthday, she severely tested the “anything” part. Without any hesitation, Kelsey inquired about how babies were made. She knew that the story about storks delivering infants was nonsense, and she understood that a woman gave birth as the final step of pregnancy. She just didn’t understand how the baby ended up in the female’s womb.

I think I blushed. This type of question was a first for me. I said the first thing that came to my mind: “Kelsey, honey, perhaps this is a question your mother ought to answer instead of me.”

“Why?” she asked me with a disappointed look on her pretty face. “You told me I could ask you anything.”

I paused, took a deep breath, and replied. “Well…I suppose you’re right, Kelsey. Yes, I did say that. Okay…”

I proceeded to find out exactly how much my tutee knew about the birds and the bees from the very basics. Kelsey knew that boys and girls were anatomically different. “I’ve seen Mason’s willie and my father’s a few times when they’ve come out of the shower,” she stated. “But that’s what they use to pee, right?”

I agreed, but I explained that a male’s penis also had another important function: I told her that it “can be put into a girl’s vagina during sexual intercourse to make a baby, provided the girl is old enough to have a baby and the boy is old enough to ejaculate sperm.” From the puzzled expression of Kelsey’s face, I could tell this information was way beyond her present knowledge. In terms she could understand, I described how male and female body parts worked for procreation.

Kelsey understood quickly. She asked me, “Is it fun to do sex, Ronald?”

I smiled and replied, “Kelsey, dear, it’s more fun than you can imagine! Nature designed the sex act to be very pleasurable. Sometimes I think that was a mistake. If it were not so pleasurable, there would be far fewer problems in the world today.”

I’m quite sure that Kelsey did not comprehend the depth of the second part of what I told her, but she was still curious. She said, “Well, I’m not old enough to have a baby. I don’t even have boobs yet, but could I still do sex at my age?”

I knew the unspoken implication was that Kelsey wanted to have sex with me. In fact, I saw her place her two hands at the base of her t-shirt as if she were going to remove it at any moment to reveal her tiny breast buds. I wisely shut down that idea as quickly and politely as I could. “That would be a big problem for me, Kelsey, because there are strict laws against grown men and boys having sex with very young girls,” I informed her. Then I took her in my arms and whispered softly into her ear, “In about ten years, I would love to have sex with you, though. Provided you don’t mind being with an old guy like me, we could make beautiful babies together! I imagine when you are around age 18, you’ll have a beautiful, sexy body for me to enjoy: nice firm breasts for me to fondle and a tight pussy for me to fuck!”

Kelsey thankfully understood the situation. “I can hardly wait until my eighteenth birthday to do a fuck with you, Ronald,” she eventually said. “I don’t like that silly law that says we can’t do one right now.” Then she enveloped me in a bear hug. I held her tightly too. Frankly, I didn’t want to wait a decade for this amorous sweetheart to mature—but common sense dictated that I had to. For temporary relief, when I got home, I immediately went on a website that promoted nudism in Sweden. I knew it had plenty of revealing photos of girls who were about Kelsey’s age. I looked intently at their pictures, but my mind was on someone else as I pleasured myself. I strongly ejaculated into a handful of tissues in about two minutes.

Part Three

I stopped tutoring Kelsey when she was 11 years old. Her mother said she was now a strong B-plus student and really didn’t need any further extra help with her schoolwork. My sessions with Mason stopped, too. He definitely still needed lots of academic support, but the customer is always right.

Seven years later, one Saturday morning I was visiting the library at the city where the Kensingtons lived because it had a special collection of books I needed for some research I was doing. By chance, as I was walking through the stacks, I encountered a familiar face from yesteryear. Kelsey recognized me before I recognized her. That was understandable. I was now 42, but I hadn’t changed too much in the seven years since I had last seen her, but Kelsey certainly had—for the better! She was now an extremely attractive young lady with a lovely, full figure. I quickly did the mental arithmetic. Kelsey had to be 18 years old or close to it.

“Ronald, is that you?” she asked me in an excited voice that was a little bit too loud for a public library.

“Oh my God! It’s my long, lost sweetheart Kelsey Kensington!” I happily declared.

We immediately embraced and began kissing each other with tremendous affection. Luckily no other library patrons could see us. We both moved to a vacant table in an out-of-the-way location near where the foreign-language books were shelved.

Kelsey got right down to business. “Ronald, I have a very strong urge to fuck you right now, right here in the library!”

I laughed at the brazenness of that comment and replied, “Hello to you too, Kelsey. Long time no see! I see you are still as affectionate as ever—and I like your idea very much.”

“Ronald,” she stated, “you have no idea how much I cried that day when I was 11 and my mother told me that she was stopping our tutoring sessions! It broke my heart. Honestly, I think she was afraid that I was getting too amorous with you and you wouldn’t be able to control your natural impulses.”

“She may have had a point,” I noted. I had never considered that factor before, but it made sense.

“Do you remember that day when I was not quite eight and I asked you how babies were made?” Kelsey inquired. “You were so wonderful and gentle with your thoughtful answer.”

I said, “Yes, of course, I remember it. You put me in an awkward position, Kelsey, but I got myself out of that mess quite well, I believe.”

Kelsey grinned and added, “You also promised we could have sex when I was 18. Guess what! I had my eighteenth birthday three weeks ago. I want to take you up on your offer. Is it still valid?”

I quickly gave an affirmative reply. “There will never be an expiration date on my having sex with you, Kelsey. You were a beautiful child whom I adored. Now you are a gorgeous young woman. Of course, I’m interested in taking you to bed. What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“Not a thing!” was her answer.

“Alright, I need about 10 or 15 minutes here in the library to find the books I require and to check them out,” I said. “After that, I’ll treat you to lunch somewhere and then I’ll take you to my house for further activities. I can guarantee you they won’t include reading.”

Kelsey smiled and quickly agreed to my lustful plans. “Okay, I’ll be waiting for you in the foyer, Ronald.” She then began to get out of her chair. I stopped her.

“One thing first, Kelsey,” I requested. “Can you sit on my lap and hug and kiss me for a few moments like you used to do a decade ago? You know, for old times’ sake. I really did enjoy that back then.” Kelsey cheerfully complied.

Part Four

We took my car. We went to a little Italian restaurant in my city that I quite liked. It featured homemade pasta dishes. Kelsey enjoyed the food there as much as I always did. Then we went to my house. Fortunately, I had tidied it up significantly that morning so I didn’t look like a slob. On the way there, we merrily reminisced about our fun and amorous tutoring sessions from the past and how much we really did love one another. I didn’t ask her if she had a significant other in her life, nor did she ask me. (My answer would have been a firm no.)

When we got to my house, I immediately became sexually assertive. I lifted Kelsey off her feet—she was only about 5’2” tall—and carried her to my bedroom. I gently deposited her on my bed where I began to kiss every inch of her face, neck, arms and hands. Kelsey undid her pale-yellow blouse and quickly removed her bra. My prediction from ten years earlier had been an accurate one: Her breasts were firm and beautiful—and I told her so. I began fondling them and sucking on her nipples. This was bliss! I paused my amorous adventures just long enough to remove all my clothing. My penis was already hard in anticipation of what was to come.

Kelsey had been wearing blue slacks which she discarded in a hurry. Next came her socks. They were followed, somewhat dramatically, by her sky-blue panties. I was right again. Her pussy was beautiful, too. Although hairy, it was the meaty type that invited male stimulation which I was more than pleased to provide. I licked it up, down and sideways. I suspected no one had ever done this for Kelsey because she wriggled and squirmed with delight. She was almost speechless, merely uttering the occasional “Oh, wow!”

I wanted similar treatment, so I stopped performing cunnilingus and thrusted my stiff dick near her face. “For you!” I said. Kelsey got the idea and put her lips around its head. “Good girl!” I told her. “Pleasure me with your mouth.”

I suspected this was all new to my fabulous bedmate, so I happily coached her through a fellatio lesson from the male point of view: “Caress my balls with your two hands while you suck on it, Kelsey, honey. That’s it! You’re doing just fine! Lick the head; it’s the most sensitive part. That’s right. That feels marvelous! You are such a good girl!” A man can never get enough oral stimulation, but I did not want to risk blowing my load down Kelsey’s throat. I intended to deposit my seed where it was supposed to go.

“Time for what I promised you ten years ago, Kelsey!” I reminded her. “I’m going to fuck your pussy thoroughly. Lie back and spread your legs. I can’t wait to penetrate you.” I promptly mounted her and inserted my penis into her sexy crevice. She was tight, but my dick seemed to fit her perfectly. I began to give her short, quick thrusts. I intended to vary my rhythm, but I liked the feel of them so much I continued to fuck Kelsey with the rapid-fire technique. It was exhausting for me, but it was apparently heavenly for my ex-student.

“Keep doing this forever, Ronald. It feels wonderful,” she told me. Kelsey experienced an orgasm, but I fucked her right through it. “What a shame we didn’t do this when I was 11,” she told me as I continued to ride her roughly without stopping. The thought of screwing Kelsey back when she was a preteen put me over the edge. I released a huge blast of cum in at least three spurts, perhaps even four. I didn’t stop to enjoy it. I kept on drilling her as the warm semen oozed from my phallus deep into her glorious vagina. Finally, tiredness overtook me and I had to stop. I felt like I had just completed a marathon, but I had only ridden Kelsey for seven or eight joyful minutes. But what a great experience it had been! As I had told Kelsey I would do ten years before, I suspected we had created a beautiful baby.

I pulled out and gave my dick a few tugs to draw out the final couple of drops of jism. I merrily spread the liquid onto Kelsey’s breasts. “Cum is said to make your tits grow,” I told her. “Not that you need bigger tits, my love. They’re beautiful as they are.” I knew I was about to fall asleep even though it was just past 2 p.m. Kelsey must have gotten just as tired from receiving the fuck as I had giving it to her. She fell asleep before I did. I wrapped my arms around her lovingly so that her sexy breasts were pressing against my chest. It was nearing 5 p.m. when we woke up almost simultaneously.

We both giggled at what we had done. “I’d say that was almost worth the ten-year wait, Ronald,” Kelsey told me. “It was a great experience.”

“If I had my life to live over again, Kelsey,” I replied, “I’d have fucked your brains out when you were 11 years old and faced whatever consequences that came along.”

“Oh, that reminds me of something!” Kelsey suddenly said. She left the bed momentarily to get her phone. Then she climbed back into bed, cuddled with me, and took a few pictures and began to send a message to someone.

I was slightly puzzled. “I don’t mind you taking photographs of the two of us sharing my bed,” I told her sincerely. “In fact, I’d like copies of all of them. Is there any particular reason why you took them, Kelsey?”

“Yes, there is! There definitely is!” Kelsey announced. “I’m sending these to my mother with the following message: ‘Hi mom! Can you guess who I ran into at the library this morning? It was my former tutor, Ronald Bygraves! Remember him? As you can see, I ended up in his bed this afternoon, which you didn’t want to happen ten years ago. The sex was fantastic! We fucked like rabbits. I suspect you’ll be a grandmother in nine months.’”