The second morning of my new school life was no different than the first, as I moved from class to class all morning, and found myself an empty table for lunch. My new friend Carrie was nowhere to be seen, which made a humorous reversal of the traditional one-night stand dynamics.
Then, I saw her at the entrance, but didn't turn fully, just watching her from the corner of my eye, one of the skills that worked perfectly for me as a Quarterback. She watched me for almost a minute before one of her friends from yesterday —a tall, slim brunette wearing a loose flannel shirt and dirty jeans, giving a quintessential tomboy aura— whispered to her something that made her blush, and they disappeared.
When the classes ended, I was planning to leave immediately, but then my phone buzzed, showing another message from Carrie, once again asking me whether I had time to visit her in the library. Even before answering, I went to the library to check, only to see she was at the exact same desk, surrounded by the same four girls from the day before, giggling and whispering while Carrie blushed.
'I will be there in a minute,' I wrote, and when Carrie informed her friends, all of them except the brunette tomboy rushed away.
I gave enough time to walk away before I walked forward. "Hey, girl," I said lazily, keeping my expression calm.
"H-hi, Chad," Carrie stammered, blushing hard enough to make me concerned for her health. "This is Sarah, one of my best friends."
"A pleasure," I said and shook her hand.
"So, Carrie tells me that she made a new best friend," she asked immediately, a hint of challenge hidden underneath her good humor. "Are we finally looking for a new member for the Misfits?"
"Sarah! You promised!" Carrie interjected, looking mortified.
"Hey, just asking," she answered. "It's better to ask before those simpering whores pulls him away."
"Sarah! You!" whispered Carrie, before I cut in.
"Hey, as much as it's entertaining to watch two beautiful ladies bicker, do you mind cluing me about what's going on?"
Sarah opened her mouth, no doubt to deliver another biting statement, but this time, Carrie was faster. "It's nothing, she's just being paranoid."
"Hey, it's not nothing," Sarah countered, silencing Carrie with a glare, before turning to me. "It's the usual clique bullshit," she said. "The popular girls hate our guts because we don't conform their standards of being simpering idiots, so they made a mission to pull away whichever boy that becomes friendly with us, making him backstab us," she explained.
Her pride as she said that clued me into a particular detail. "Not successfully, I'm guessing."
"Damn right," she said, smiling for the first time, proud of her role as the protector of their little group.
"So, you're saying that no boy in the whole school wants to befriend you beautiful girls," I said, smiling sincerely, which made Sarah's eyes widen for a fleeting moment before it disappeared. Clearly, she wasn't used to being flirted.
"None that matters, at least, not until they learn to speak without stammering," she said, throwing a disdainful glare around the library that housed most of the silent boys. It was a hypocritical stance, decreeing the popular girls while putting down the shy nerdy boys, but not one I cared about. If those boys lacked the courage to speak, nothing could help them.
"What's the verdict, then?" I asked, hitting her with my best smile. And while she might dress like a butch lesbian, her blush left no doubt about her sexual orientation.
Sarah did her best to look grim despite her blush, trying to intimidate me before answering. "I'll hold the verdict for now," she said before she turned and left, her steps lacking a feminine sway.
"Sorry about that," Carrie said as she looked at me, begging. "She comes across gruff, but only because she's the unofficial protector of our group."
"No worries," I said even as I pulled a chair and sat next to her. "So, what's that sudden protectiveness was about? The last night?"
"N-n-no!" she stammered, her blush back with a vengeance. "I can never tell them!"
I might felt self-conscious and lashed out if I was one of those weaker boys, but instead, I decided to tease her a bit. "I see how it is, I'm your dirty little secret."
She jumped up to her own defense. "It's not like that-" she started, only to be cut off when I started chuckling. "Meanie," she said as she slapped my shoulder, but she smiled, so I took that as a win.
"So, if she doesn't know about me being your dirty little secret," I started, earning another slap to the shoulder in the process, "why is she being so defensive."
"Umm," she murmured, pushing her fingers together. "She, for some reason, thought that I might be developing a tiny little … crush."
"Which is completely baseless, of course," I said, but my dazzling smile removed any possible sting my words might carry, leaving her with another blush rather than frustration. She was cute when teased, her blonde hair framing her cute face. The fact that I could still remember her rocking body under her unflattering clothes did help, though.
"Maybe we should start studying," she murmured as she flipped her book open, and we started studying. I was tempted to caress her leg a bit, but thanks to my awareness, I noticed Sarah watching us being a shelf, replicating my tactic, only less successfully. So, the rest of the session was similar to yesterday, two hours of studying, followed by a dinner paid for by me.
When she started driving, however, she was decidedly silent. I sat next to her, not bothering to speak. The closer we drove, the more disappointed I felt. It seemed that she didn't want another tutoring session, and I didn't want to open the topic. "Do you have anything important to do?" she asked when she pulled into my driveway.
"I have my evening exercises, but nothing more," I answered. "It'll take a bit more than two hours, but I don't have to start immediately."
"Again?" she asked, and I just nodded without explaining. I didn't want to tell her about my athletic admission to college, and I certainly didn't want to reveal my identity as a Quarterback. There was no way Carrie could handle that particular nugget well. "Do you mind if I join you in your exercise?"
"Of course not," I answered. Having a shy blonde alone would surely help the boredom of exercising alone. "Do you have your exercise clothes?"
"Yes, today was the gym day, and I always have a spare set of clothes just in case," she said.
"Excellent," I said as I stepped out, and she followed me inside. "Welcome to my humble abode," I said as I opened the main door.
"Wow," Carrie said as she looked at the place, particularly the large garden on the back, with a large pool and an equally large grass field, piled with exercise equipment. It was one good thing about my father's job. Not only the pay was impressive, but it came with many benefits in terms of housing. Of course, the long absences due to business trips was the drawback, especially since he was a single parent, but that particular detail lost its importance as I grew older, and an empty house turned from a source of distress to a very convenient advantage, whether it was for parties, or some paired fun.
"You can use the bathroom to change," I pointed at her while I climbed the stairs, quickly changing into my exercise clothes. When I came back, Carrie greeted me wearing her exercise clothes, which, unfortunately, consisted of baggy sweatpants and a black, formless t-shirt, not any more revealing than her usual ensemble.
Carrie, on the other hand, seemed to be impressed with my exercise clothing, which was only basketball shorts and nothing else, leaving my muscular torso naked for her enjoyment. From her gulp, I could see she was enjoying the sight. "Shall we," I said, gesturing at the garden at the back.
Then, I started exercising under the shocking gaze of Carrie, dashing back and forth while doing complicated patterns to optimize my footwork, jumping rope, lifting weights, a grueling circuit program that stretched both my explosive force and my stamina to the limits. Carrie had been working out at first, but then, she just sat, watching my exercise with growing interest —and arousal, based on the way her legs were rubbing against each other.
As much as I was tempted to stop exercising to enjoy her growing arousal, I didn't have the option to relax, no matter how tempting was the idea.
"And that's it," I finally called, covered in sweat, and turned to face Carrie, who was watching me with obvious arousal. A more confident girl might have already started masturbating, though she lacked the courage for it. "I just need to stretch now, do you want to join?"
"S-sure," she stammered as she jumped up to her feet, the way her tits dangling despite her annoyingly baggy t-shirt.
"Follow my lead," I said to her as I started going through a number of advanced stretching exercises, but she lacked the flexibility to follow them. "Maybe I should help you," I said after finishing my own round while she still struggled with one of the earlier complicated exercises.
"Do you really think it's necessary?" she asked.
"Of course, flexibility is an important part of the topics I'm teaching you," I explained, and she blushed even further. She tried to stammer a response, but I already stood behind her, grabbing her arm to bend behind gently. "Relax, and let out your breath," I said, quickly guiding her over several fundamental exercises, while listening to her heartbeat from her back, thumping furiously.
"It's not working for some reason," I murmured.
"What am I doing wrong?" she asked immediately asked, eager to fix her mistake despite her desires.
"I don't know, let me see how your muscles stretch, so I can get a better idea," I said, and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up, and she raised her arms reflexively before she understood my objective, leaving her wearing only a white sports bra, stretched to the limit to hold her beautiful tits hidden.
"W-what," she stammered.
"Come on, sweetie," I whispered into her ear softly, in a low, throaty voice. "It's not like I hadn't seen more before."
From the way she shivered, she seemed to enjoy that particular tone, or maybe, it was the effect of my sweaty chest pressing against her back. "R-right," she said before stiffening once again. "But we're in public!" Which was the point, as I wanted her to be overwhelmed by the sensations this time. It was my job as her tutor to make her get used to different stuff, after all, and standing half-naked out in the open was a part of it, even if it was impossible for someone else to see her.
"Don't worry, the fences block the sight completely," I answered, even as I grabbed the waist of her sweatpants and pulled them down, revealing her boring panties, wide enough to cover her generous ass. Perfect for exercising, of course, but not so much for her real objective.
Her heartbeat was going crazy as I made her sit, her legs in front of her, opened ninety degrees. "Take a deep breath, and try to touch both of your toes at the same time," I told her.
"It's hard," she said after struggling to reach her toes.
"You just need to try a bit harder," I whispered as I pressed my chest against her back once more, the weight enough to cover the difference. She gasped, with pain, but also excitement.
I was more interested in the second part. "You just need to stand like that for half a minute," I whispered even as my hands started wandering over her breasts, imprisoned in the tight prison of her sports bra.
Her whimpers started soon, but I kept her locked under my weight, while I counted the seconds. "And that's thirty," I said, pulling back my weight. She looked disappointed, which was faded immediately with my next words. "Now, lay on your back," I ordered.
She immediately followed my command, but with her eyes closed. I grabbed her leg, and pushed it up until it was perpendicular to the ground, one hand on her thigh, the other on her calf, pressing just enough to create tension. Despite her strained expression, her body betrayed her true feelings in the form of her erect nipples and the wetness of her panties.
It would be a lie to say I wasn't excited. She wasn't the sexiest woman I had ever seen, hell, it wasn't even the sexiest I had seen her, but there was something delicious about the way she just lay under me, obediently and silently, following my every order without hesitation. It was not something I had experienced with my cheerleader girlfriends, always loud and opinionated, more concerned about the social credit of bagging the Quarterback than the enjoyment of the sex.
"So, are you happy with my tutoring…" I said, and while she blushed, I continued, "about exercise."
"Y-yeah," she stammered, but unable to hide her disappointment. She wanted a repeat of the last night, which was more than clear with her actions, but she lacked the courage to actually ask for it.
"Good," I said as I switched the leg, and continued our stretching exercise, each position more intimate than the last, which left her burning with desire, but she still didn't dare to ask, or take initiative. I would have left her raging with a desire to teach her a lesson, but my own very inconvenient boner convinced me otherwise.
"That's it for today," I called, keeping my expression smooth, struggling not to explode with laughter at her expression, like I just stole her bag of Halloween candy.
"That's it," she repeated, dejected.
"Yeah, let's hit the showers," I said, then let a wicked smile appear. "Sorry, shower," I corrected.
"Shower," she repeated, dejection replaced by shock. "As in singular."
I just chuckled and started walking, enjoying the sound of her hesitant footsteps as she followed me.