What My Private Tutors Taught Me

This happened in Seville in the summer of 2002. I was eighteen, had just passed my university entrance exams, and, where women were concerned, I was a lost cause.

It wasn’t that I was ugly. My friends told me I wasn’t, at least. But I was so introverted that I found it hard to carry on a conversation with a girl my own age without the silence turning awkward after thirty seconds. While they spent two years telling me their adventures on Monday mornings, I listened to them with a mixture of admiration and resignation. I didn’t go to clubs. I didn’t flirt in class. There were days when I wondered if there was something wrong with me.

I had gotten very low marks in Physics and English during high school, and my parents found me private tutors for the last two years. Natalia tutored me in Physics; Valentina, in English. The two of them had something in common besides their age —they were both around thirty-two— and the patience it takes to explain the laws of motion and the difference between the present perfect and the simple present to someone like me.

They were both women I had learned to glance at out of the corner of my eye.

***

Natalia wore her blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail that came apart as class went on. Pale eyes, almost gray, that narrowed when she wanted to make sure I had understood her. A body she dressed without pretension —oversized sweaters, comfortable trousers— but one that did not go unnoticed. There was something in the way she moved, in the way she leaned over my notes to point out a mistake, that made me nervous in a way I tried to keep as far from my head as possible during class.

Though I’d be lying if I said I always succeeded. Every time she bent over the table, the neckline of her sweater fell forward and showed me the start of tits that looked heavy, full, pressed tight against her bra. I looked away too quickly, pretended to concentrate on a formula, and under the table I had to cross my legs to hide the cock going hard without asking my permission.

In July, four days after I enrolled in Industrial Engineering, Natalia called me on the phone.

—I need to see you before I go —she said.

—Go where?

—I’ll tell you Saturday.

Saturday came right on time, with a small carry-on suitcase. My parents had gone out that afternoon with some friends and wouldn’t be back until nine. Natalia came in, left the suitcase in the hallway, and explained to me, standing in the corridor, that she had been offered a research position at a university in Toronto. She had been looking for that opportunity for years. Her flight left in two hours.

—Two hours? —I repeated.

—I wanted to say goodbye to you in person.

I had bought her a gift to thank her for two years of lessons. A perfume and a silk scarf. She opened them carefully, smiled, and set them on the living room table.

—You needn’t have bothered —she said—. Really.

Then she looked at me differently. It wasn’t the look she used when she explained the principles of thermodynamics to me.

—I have something for you too —she said.

I didn’t understand what she meant. I stood still, waiting.

She took off her jacket. Then she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, never taking her eyes off mine. Underneath she wore a cream lace bra, which she also took off with the same calm gesture, as if what she was doing was nothing extraordinary.

It was the first time I had seen tits in person. Big, round, with pale skin that contrasted with the tan on her neck and arms. Her pink nipples were hard, pointing toward me as if they were indicating me. I didn’t know where to put my hands, my mouth was dry, and my cock was already straining against the zipper of my pants.

—I know you’ve been looking at them for two years —she said—. So it’s only fair that you get a proper look before I go. And that you touch them. And everything else.

I stepped closer. I touched them first with my fingertips, then with my palms. They weighed more than I had imagined, filling my hand completely. I pinched a nipple without thinking, and Natalia let out a short, rough sigh that went straight to my groin. I didn’t know what to do or in what order, and I suppose it showed. Natalia didn’t seem to mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and put a hand over mine to guide it, showing me how to knead her tits and how to squeeze her nipples between my fingers until a deeper moan slipped out of her.

—With your mouth too —she murmured—. Suck me.

I lowered my head and took her nipple into my mouth, sucking as best I could, clumsy at first and then hungrier when I felt her grip the back of my neck and press me against her chest. I ran my tongue over the areola, bit gently, switched tits. Natalia breathed hard and rubbed herself against my leg.

We’d been at it for maybe five minutes when she took a step back and looked down at my pants with an expression of genuine surprise. The bulge was pronounced, obscene, against the fabric.

—Is all of that yours? —she asked.

She reached out and squeezed my cock through my pants. My whole body trembled. Until that moment I hadn’t realized how hard I was.

—Fuck —she murmured, almost to herself—. This needs to be seen properly.

What came next happened in my room, with the blinds half drawn and the noise from the street slipping in through the gap. Natalia took charge from the start: she explained what she was going to do before doing it, corrected me when I did something wrong, and encouraged me when I did something right. She was a teacher, and that didn’t change even if the subject had.

She shoved me back onto the bed, knelt between my legs, and slowly unbuttoned my pants. When she pulled my underwear down, my cock sprang out so hard it almost hit her chin. Natalia let out a short, surprised laugh and stared at it for a whole second, as if she were calculating what to do with it.

—Good God. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have waited until the last day.

She took my cock in her hand. She closed her fist around the shaft and began to work it slowly, squeezing, measuring every inch. The tip was already glossy with pre-cum, and when she ran her thumb over the glans and spread it along the whole length, I let out a groan that sounded strange in my own voice. Natalia watched me with her mouth slightly open, observing the veins standing out along the shaft, watching it swell more every time she squeezed.

—Like this —she said—. Don’t hide it. Let me see it properly.

She leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, and licked the tip with a precision that left me breathless. One long, slow stroke from base to glans, gathering the pre-cum with her lips. Then she opened her mouth and took me in halfway, deeply, unhurriedly, and I jerked involuntarily at the hot wetness of her tongue and the feel of her lips tightening around me. She went a little deeper, and a little deeper, until I felt the tip bump the back of her throat and heard her choke for a second before she came back up and went down again.

—Fuck, Natalia —I moaned—. Fuck.

Natalia held my hips so I wouldn’t move too much and began to suck me with a slow, filthy rhythm, more and more deliberate. She went up and down with her mouth full, her tongue wrapping around my shaft, her lips tight, leaving a trail of spit that dribbled down her chin and fell hot onto my balls. When she choked on her own gasps, she looked up to make sure I was still there, and the sight of her looking up at me with my cock buried down her throat made me last both longer and less at the same time.

She let my cock go for a moment, spat on the tip, and used it as lubricant, sliding her hand up and down while she licked my balls one by one, taking them into her mouth, sucking them carefully. Then she swallowed me whole again, choking a little on purpose, moaning around a mouthful of cock.

—Don’t come yet —she murmured, letting me go for a second to breathe—. Hold on a little longer. I want you inside me.

I obeyed as best I could, my hands clenched in the sheets, while she alternated her mouth with her hand, spreading saliva over the whole length and returning to the base with obscene calm. She sucked me as if she had been waiting for months, with a real hunger that didn’t seem fake. When she noticed I was at my limit, she pulled away, stood up, and took off the rest of her clothes with a naturalness that left me frozen.

She stood naked in front of me, her tits still wet with my saliva, her hips broad, her blonde cunt covered by a short, neat patch of hair. She put two fingers to her mouth, sucked them, and passed them between her thighs. When she pulled them out, I saw they were shining.

—Look what you’ve done to me —she said, showing them to me.

She lay down on the bed and opened her legs. Her pussy spread open in front of me, pink, swollen, with the inner lips peeking out soaked through.

—Come here —she said—. I want you to learn properly.

I moved toward her awkwardly, still trembling, and she positioned me between her thighs. Her cunt was wet, hot, already open from arousal, and when I ran my fingers there I felt the moisture sliding against my hand. I slipped one finger inside slowly and Natalia let out a low moan, tightening around it. I slid in another, curled them, moved them as best I could, and she grabbed my wrist and set the rhythm, pushing my fingers in to the knuckles.

—Like that, like that, keep going —she panted—. But now the cock. Put it in already.

She took my cock in her hand, guided it to the entrance of her cunt and rubbed it up and down, wetting it thoroughly, before making me push in slowly.

I entered her with a pressure that stole my breath. Her cunt gripped me brutally, tight and burning, and I had to stop for a second so I wouldn’t come immediately. I felt it closing around my cock, sucking me in, every millimeter of flesh squeezing me tighter as I went deeper. Natalia moaned under me, mouth open, her tits bouncing with every small thrust.

—All the way —she ordered—. All of it. Put all your cock in me.

I pushed all the way in, feeling the impact against her cervix, and Natalia let out a choked cry that made me lose the last trace of shyness. She grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me hungrily, slipping me tongue, biting my lower lip, moving her hips to force me in deeper.

—That’s it —she said through her teeth—. Now fuck me. Fuck me properly.

I started moving as best I could, first short, then deeper, feeling every thrust at the base of my cock and the slap of her thighs against mine. The noise of my balls hitting her ass filled the room, mixed with the wet slapping of her cunt swallowing my cock again and again. Natalia opened her legs wider, pulled them up to her chest, set them on my shoulders, threw her head back and begged me not to slow down, to give it to her all the way, to give it to her harder.

—More, more, like that, don’t stop —she moaned—. Fuck, you’re fucking me so good. You weren’t going to leave without being broken in.

I obeyed her with a mix of shame and pride that burned inside me. I turned her over as best I could, not really knowing how, and she let herself be put on all fours with a ease that made me realize she had already decided for me. Her ass lifted toward me, round, white, split by the shadow of her cunt, open and shining with my spit and hers. I grabbed her hips, dug my fingers into her flesh, and drove into her in one thrust until I was all the way inside.

Natalia screamed into the pillow. I started fucking her with everything I had, my cock going in and out at an ever more savage rhythm, watching it disappear inside her and come back out soaked. I slapped her ass almost without thinking, and Natalia let out a moan of pleasure that encouraged me to slap her again, harder.

—Yes, yes —she groaned—. Harder. Give it to me in the ass. Fuck me however you want.

I grabbed her hair, pulled on the ponytail that was already half undone, and slammed into her faster, without restraint, feeling her cunt contract around me. When I felt her whole body tense and start to tremble, she took one hand to her groin and rubbed her clit frantically until she came beneath me with a long, choked cry against the pillow, squeezing my cock in a spasm that nearly dragged me with her.

—Come, come inside —she panted, looking back over her shoulder at me with glazed eyes—. Finish inside me. I want to feel it.

I thrust three, four more times, all the way in, and came inside her with a jolt that shook my legs. I felt my cock pulsing, emptying hot streams against the back of her cunt, and Natalia moaned beneath me, still squeezing me, milking me to the last drop. I stayed inside her for a moment, unable to move, listening to her breathe.

When I pulled out, I watched semen run slowly down her thigh. Natalia turned onto her back, brought two fingers to her cunt, gathered up what she could, and put it in her mouth, licking them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to say, my heart still racing. Natalia was already sitting up, searching through the tangled sheets for her clothes.

—You’re incredible —she said—. For how shy you are, I wouldn’t have expected it. And with that cock on top of it.

—You helped me —I replied.

—A little, yes. —She gave a low laugh—. But the credit is yours.

Before she left through the door, she paused in the doorway and turned back.

—Start dating girls, please. With what you’ve got between your legs, it’d be a waste to stay home jerking off.

She picked up the suitcase. She closed the door. I heard her footsteps going down the stairs and then nothing else. I stood in the middle of the hall, my cock still sticky, not quite sure whether what had just happened was real.

***

Two days later I went to Valentina’s place to say goodbye.

Valentina was French, though she spoke Spanish without the slightest trace of an accent and wrote it better than many natives. Dark brown hair, green eyes, a big mouth with a smile that disarmed you before you could go on guard. She always wore short dresses —the shortest I had ever seen off a screen— and had the habit of crossing her legs in a way that made it very hard to concentrate on English grammar exercises. More than once during class, I had caught sight of the edge of her panties when she uncrossed her legs, and I had spent the rest of the session with my cock hard under my notebook.

She wasn’t as striking as Natalia at first glance. But there was something in her harder to define: a way of looking at you when she spoke that made you feel like the only person in the room.

I brought her a perfume and a fine wool scarf. She accepted them with her usual smile, left them on the table, and announced that she also had bad news: she was going back to Lyon. A communications company had offered her a position she couldn’t refuse. She was leaving the day after tomorrow.

—So many goodbyes this week —I said.

—Summer is like that. —She paused—. The air conditioning’s broken, by the way. I’ve decided not to open the windows anyway.

I didn’t understand the logic of that until a few minutes later.

She kissed me. First on the left cheek, then the right, and then, very slowly, on the lips. She slipped her tongue in without asking and I gave it back as best I could, my heart already pounding against my ribs. When she pulled away, her lips were glossy and she had a crooked smile.

—A little bird told me Natalia saw you off properly —she said, running a finger over my chest—. I wasn’t going to be any less.

—How did you…?

—Women talk. —She laughed—. And she says you’ve got something between your legs worth repeating. I have to check.

She led me to the living room. She made me sit in the wooden chair in front of her desk. She slowly lifted her dress, showing me her stockings all the way up, the small white panties she pulled off by the waistband and let fall to her ankles. She propped one leg on the edge of the desk and opened herself in front of me. Her cunt gleamed, fully shaved, with the inner lips peeking out swollen and her thighs marked inside with her own wetness.

—The first thing you need to learn —she said, in that measured teacher’s voice— is how to eat pussy. Properly. Not just skim over it.

With a patience that reminded me of her best English lessons, she guided me: where to put my mouth, how to move my fingers, what signals to listen for. It was a class, and I was the most attentive student I had ever been in my life.

I spread her thighs with my hands and leaned in between them. Her cunt was wet, hot, with the sweet, heavy smell of arousal filling the room. I started by licking slowly, up and down, testing the texture of her lips, listening to her breathing change each time I ran my tongue over the exact spot. I slid my tongue inside her, as far as I could, and drew out a hoarse moan. I went up to her clit, swollen, shiny, and started sucking it carefully.

—Slower. Circles. Yes. Now two fingers.

I slid two fingers into her cunt while I kept sucking her clit, and Valentina arched her back against the desk, grabbing my hair and pressing my face against her. I felt her cunt clench around my fingers, getting wetter with every movement. I licked her without stopping, pushed my tongue and fingers in at the same time, sucked her lips one by one, and went back to her clit.

—There. Yes. Don’t stop there. Fuck, keep going like that.

I didn’t stop sucking, licking, and working my tongue hungrily while she ground against my mouth and, in a low voice, told me when to go harder. Spit and her juices mixed on my chin, dribbling down her ass onto the chair’s wood. I didn’t care. I pushed my fingers to the bottom, curled them, searching for that spot she had mentioned at some point, and felt every muscle in her body tighten.

—Keep going, keep going, keep going, fuck…

It took me about ten minutes to make her come. I knew because Valentina arched her back, let out a long, deep sound, and stayed still for several seconds with her eyes closed and her knuckles white on the edge of the desk. Her cunt pulsed against my fingers, squeezing them in short spasms. When I pulled my face away, my chin was glossy with her.

—Good —she said, once her breathing returned to normal—. Very good. You learn fast.

What came after was different from what I’d lived with Natalia. Not better or worse, just completely different in form. Natalia had been in control from the start with almost clinical clarity. Valentina alternated without warning between letting herself go and taking the reins, as if the rhythm of everything were her decision in real time and I simply had to follow.

She made me stand up and took off my T-shirt. Then she knelt in front of me and unbuttoned my pants herself, biting her lip when she saw the bulge. She pulled my underwear down and my cock sprang out, hard as stone, already dripping at the tip.

—Ah —she said, grabbing it and weighing it in her hand—. Now I understand Natalia.

She took it into her mouth without further preamble. She swallowed me whole, down to her throat, choking for a second and coming back up with her mouth full of saliva. She sucked me with a technique different from Natalia’s: faster, dirtier, her tongue moving relentlessly over the whole shaft, spitting on my cock and sliding her hand up and down in time with her mouth. She took my balls in her other hand and squeezed them gently, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more.

—Stay still. Don’t come. I want that cock inside me.

She stood up, pushed me back onto the sofa, and made me sit down. Then she climbed on top of me without ceremony, taking my cock in her hand and guiding it to her cunt herself. She sat down slowly, centimeter by centimeter, never taking her eyes off me, until I was buried to the hilt. She moaned when she felt me inside, long and deep, and made me hold her by the hips while she started moving with a slow, deep cadence, marking each rise and fall as if she wanted to savor the whole friction of it.

—Deeper —she ordered—. Push up from below. And look at me.

I looked at her and she looked back with an intensity that disarmed me. Her tits bounced in front of me with every movement, and I grabbed them with both hands, kneading them, pinching her nipples. Valentina panted over me, changing the rhythm at will: sometimes she moved fast up and down, slapping her ass against my thighs with a wet smack; sometimes she stayed still, buried to the hilt, and rolled her hips in slow circles, making my cock move inside her without coming in or out.

—Fuck, you fill me so well —she moaned, biting her lip—. So hard. So thick.

She leaned forward to rub her clit against my body, then leaned back to let my cock open her cunt again and again at a different angle. Every time I thought I had the pattern figured out, she changed it. It wasn’t frustrating. It was the opposite.

The heat of the unventilated room turned everything into something denser, more immediate. Sweat ran between her tits, shone on her neck, mixed with mine where our thighs stuck together. The smell of sex, sweat, and hot cunt filled everything. I sucked her tits while she rode me, bit her nipples, and Valentina moaned louder and moved faster.

We spent hours like that, with short breaks where she drank water and we started again. I lost count of the positions and the beginnings of each new scene. I put her against the living room wall and took her from behind, her hands braced on the tiles, watching her arch her back to stick her ass out toward me. I laid her on the rug and fucked her with her legs over my shoulders, watching my cock sink all the way in and come back out glossy. I turned her onto her side, lifted one leg, and drove into her from behind while I sucked her neck and squeezed her tits.

Valentina moved on me with the same conviction she used when correcting my English compositions: knowing exactly what she wanted, without detours.

When she got tired of riding on top, she shoved me back and opened my legs, sitting on my face until my tongue dragged another orgasm out of her. She ground herself shamelessly against my mouth, smothering me with her cunt, gripping the sofa back for support. I buried my tongue and fingers in her and sucked her clit until she trembled again and dripped down my chin.

—Fuck, what a mouth you have —she moaned—. Who taught you to eat pussy like that?

—You did —I answered, with my mouth full of her.

Afterward she made me kneel, took my cock in her hand, and put it between her lips to suck me with almost cruel patience, licking until I was completely taut and begging for something else again. She licked my balls, sucked them one by one, ran her flat tongue up the shaft, spat on the tip, and used it to slide up and down with her hand clenched tight. Every change came with brief, filthy, direct instructions.

—Like that. Slower. Now harder. Don’t be shy. Put it in my throat.

I grabbed her head with both hands and fucked her mouth, slowly at first, then more decisively, watching her swallow my cock whole, hearing her choke and then open wider so more could go in. Saliva dribbled down her chin and onto her tits. When she pulled back to breathe, her eyes were watery and she had a look of satisfaction.

When she finally asked me to finish, she knelt in front of me and looked up at me with that smile of hers that was never entirely innocent.

—I want to know what you taste like —she said—. I want you to paint me all over. Mouth, face, tits. Wherever it lands.

She took my cock and began jerking me off fast and tight, her mouth open beneath the tip and her tongue out. I held on as long as I could, staring at her like that, until I couldn’t anymore. I came with a brutal jolt, spraying the first stream onto her tongue, the second on her cheek and nose, the third over the tits she’d pulled out of her dress. Valentina didn’t move her mouth away for a second, swallowing what fell inside, gathering what stayed on her lips with a finger and sucking it, rubbing the cum from her chest with the palm of her hand and then licking it off. Then she lifted her chin and smiled, breathing hard and with her face wet, shining with me.

—Delicious —she said, running her tongue over her lips.

When I got dressed to leave, Valentina took a business card from her purse and put it in my shirt pocket.

—When you come to Lyon, call me. And if I come here, too.

I called her two months later. She didn’t answer. I left her a message. She never replied. I suppose some goodbyes are exactly that: goodbyes with no possible continuation.

***

In the weeks that followed, I tried to understand what had happened. Not the physical details, which my friends explained to me with an enthusiasm I hadn’t asked for when I told them the essentials. But the other part: why two adult women, with their own lives and their own plans, had decided to say goodbye to me that way.

The most honest answer I found, after turning it over and over, was also the simplest: because they wanted to. Because they could. And because, perhaps, at some point during those two years of classes, they had seen something in me that I was unable to see from the inside.

I wondered whether Natalia or Valentina ever thought about it. Whether in Toronto or Lyon, at some random moment, one of those memories ever surfaced uncalled. I don’t know. I do think about it. I still do, from time to time, in those sleepless stretches when the mind decides to go back to eighteen without warning or apology.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even something like it. It was generosity, probably. Or curiosity. Or the two mixed together, which are sometimes exactly the same thing.

But what I learned those two summer afternoons took years to find again anywhere else.