My private tutor found me halfway there

Again the same thing. Another private tutor, another round of verbs slipping out of my head like water through my fingers. At twenty-two, I’d made it through university being good at almost everything, but English was still my wall. And now I really needed it: I’d applied for a job abroad, and all that stood between me and it was a language exam I’d been putting off for months.

—I’m telling you, Mara, this woman is something else —my sister had told me when she gave me the contact—. A coworker studied with her and passed on the first try.

—That’s what you said about the last one —I replied, not exactly hopeful.

—This one’s different. Open your mind, give her a chance.

If I’d known how literal that “open your mind” was going to be, I would’ve laughed less.

The day of the first lesson, I got myself more put together than I’d admit out loud. I told myself it was pure strategy: if she liked me, maybe she’d be less demanding. Sometimes my head invents absurd justifications for things I don’t even understand myself.

At five on the dot, the doorbell rang. I opened the door and lost my breath.

In front of me stood a woman who couldn’t have been much older than thirty-five. Tall, with wavy hair falling over her shoulders, slim but with that firmness that gives away hours in the gym. And her eyes. Green, deep, with a way of looking that lit something in my chest before I could even name it.

—Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Renata Quiroga, and I’ll be your teacher from today on —she said, and I noticed her gaze drop for a second from my eyes to my lips.

—Hi, I’m Mara Belmonte —I replied, and my nerves betrayed me in my voice—. And I’m going to be your new student from today on.

I closed my eyes inwardly. Why did I say that? What kind of introduction was that?

She laughed softly.

—Yeah, that was clear. Sorry, I’m used to introducing myself formally, but with you I don’t think we need so much ceremony, right?

—Not at all —I said, trying to regain control—. In fact, you can just call me Mara.

—Perfect, just Mara. And you can call me Renata. Shall we start?

—That’s how I like it, students with enthusiasm —she added, smiling, having the slightest idea of the real reason for my enthusiasm.

Because the truth was I liked her. I liked her a lot. I liked that she looked feminine without piling on makeup, letting her natural features show. I liked the way her jeans fit, outlining worked legs that made me imagine the rest. I liked that calm, dominant energy she gave off, and that smile that ran down my spine like a shiver.

I’d been with a couple of women before, enough to know for sure that men didn’t interest me. And that night, while Renata explained the difference between two verb tenses I forgot the instant she said them, I knew her name was the one I’d be moaning when I was alone.

***

The lessons turned out to be much better than I expected. She explained everything with a patience no previous teacher had ever had, and for some absurd reason I wanted to make her proud of me. I started studying extra, doing exercises she hadn’t even assigned me, just to see her approving expression.

A month passed and my obsession hadn’t eased up. I took every second I could to look at her: her hands when she pointed to a page, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she barely frowned when I made a mistake. And every time class ended, I’d practically run to my room to calm down whatever she’d set off.

Just seeing her left my underwear soaked. I felt my heartbeat straight between my legs, a flutter in my stomach that wouldn’t let me focus on anything. That last hour of English had become the hardest one to endure.

And sometimes I thought I noticed something in her too. A look that lingered a second too long, a personal question out of nowhere, a touch that seemed intentional. Or maybe I was inventing it all, starving for it to be true.

—Well, Mara, you’ve made a huge amount of progress this month —she told me one afternoon, taking my hands in hers—. I’m very proud of you.

—Thank you, Renata —I answered, trying to hide the tremble her touch caused in me—. I’m happy too.

—See you next week. Have a lovely afternoon.

—You too, beautiful —I blurted out, with no shame whatsoever.

She raised an eyebrow, with a flirty smile, and left.

***

As soon as I heard the front door close, I went straight to my room. My parents weren’t home and my sister had been living away for years, so for once I didn’t have to swallow my moans. What I didn’t notice in my rush was that my bedroom door had been left poorly shut.

I needed to come thinking about her. Again. I took off my pants and underwear, threw myself onto the bed, and without thinking too much, sank two fingers inside myself.

—Ah, yes, Renata —I murmured—. Like that, just like that.

With my free hand I grabbed my breasts, pinched my nipples until the sting turned into pleasure. I sped up, arched my back. I could already tell I was going to have to change the sheets from how wet I was.

—Almost… almost there, Renata —I panted—. You’re going to make me come if you keep this up.

—Mara, I forgot to tell you that…

The voice wasn’t in my head. The voice was at the door.

I opened my eyes sharply. Renata was there, standing in the doorway, the car keys still in her hand and an expression on her face that took a moment to shift from surprise to something very different.

—I’d forgotten my charger and your mom told me to come in… —she said, not finishing the sentence, not moving.

—Renata, I… sorry, I don’t know how… —I yanked the sheet over myself, my face burning.

—Did you manage to finish? —she asked, and I noticed her eyes darken as she took a step toward the bed.

—Huh?

—You heard me, Mara. Did you finish?

—No —I stammered, unable to hold her gaze—. I didn’t make it.

—I can help with that.

She sat on the edge of the bed, brushed a strand of hair from my face, and kissed me. Slowly, just a brush of lips, but that kiss made me see stars, constellations, and the entire solar system.

—Yes —I moaned against her mouth.

The next thing I felt was her fingers sliding down my belly, finding my already swollen clit and drawing slow circles while she kissed my neck. Deep kisses, mixed with soft bites that pulled tremors out of me. I wasn’t going to last long with everything I’d built up.

—You have no idea how long I dreamed about this —she whispered, and every word raised me another degree—. About all the desire I had stored up for you.

—Then don’t hold back —I begged her, grabbing her wrist so she wouldn’t stop.

—As you wish.

And that’s how I felt: like a woman in heat who wanted more every time, harder, deeper. Renata sped up, exploring me completely, never stopping paying attention to that spot with her thumb. She bit my breasts, kissed my stomach, held my waist with a firmness that drove me insane. I felt like I might faint.

—Come for me, Mara —she said, breathless, looking into my eyes and kissing me in the most primitive way anyone had ever kissed me.

The way my name came out of her mouth finished breaking me open.

—Ahhh… yes, Renata —was all I could say before everything spilled over.

My breathing was a mess, my chest rising and falling out of control, my vision blurring. Without a doubt, it had been the best orgasm of my life.

—I hope I helped, even if just a little —Renata said, slowly pulling her fingers out and bringing them to her mouth.

—I can’t complain —I replied, still out of breath.

—Oh, really? —She laughed in the sexiest way I’d ever heard from her.

—It was… incredible.

But inside, I didn’t want it to end there. I wanted to know what she tasted like, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to find out whether she was as wet as I was. I sat up, determined, and just then I heard the front door open.

—My mom —I murmured.

—Relax, I was just leaving —Renata said, fixing her hair and regaining her composure as if nothing had happened.

—Wait. —I got up behind her, took her hand, and kissed her. Slowly, savoring every inch of her mouth, barely nibbling her lip. I heard her sigh and smile right in the middle of the kiss. My heart kicked up again.

—Thank you, Renata —I said, reluctantly pulling away.

—There’s nothing to thank me for. —And she left my room, leaving me floating, hardly believing what had just happened.

From the hallway I heard her say goodbye to my mother.

—Today we did the lesson in Mara’s room, she seemed a little tired but insisted on continuing.

—Oh, yes, I know my daughter, she’s more stubborn than a mule —my mom replied, laughing—. Thank you for your dedication.

—It’s my pleasure, ma’am. Until next week.

Until next week. I collapsed onto the bed with an idiotic smile, already counting the days. One thing I was sure of: English had stopped being the hardest subject of the year.