Her Reviewer’s Reward

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“How can you find the probability of three or fewer earthquakes in both cities combined?”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “I can find the probability of three earthquakes in Tokyo and zero in San Francisco, or two in Tokyo and one or zero in San Fran-“

“There’s an easier way,” I chided him.

He thought for a moment before sudden realization spread across his face. “Oh! They’re independent! So I only need to use one Poisson distribution, whose mean is the sum of the other two means!”

“Great job!” I cheered, using his progress as a pretext for an all-too-brief hug. His broad chest felt strong and safe against my own, his muscles obvious even through multiple layers of clothing. I buried my head against his shoulder for just an instant before reluctantly pulling away. “You’re so smart! You’re really catching on quickly. I’m surprised you even need a tutor. I thought you aced all your classes.”

“I usually do. I don’t know what it is about stats. It just doesn’t click for me.”

“It will! And until then, I’ll tutor you as much as you need it. Until you’re getting an A+!”

“Thanks, Kath.”

“Alright! I think you’re ready to try the practice exam.” I handed him a small packet. “Go use the dining room table.”

“Why not here?” he asked.

“I might distract you. And it’s best to practice under test conditions,” I explained, gazing into his mazarine eyes. “You want it to be as close to the real thing as possible. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

“Alright. Just give me some time warnings, too, so I can pace myself a bit, okay?” He stood up and gathered his things. His hand went for his cell phone, but I playfully slapped it away.

“No distractions,” I reminded him. “You won’t have a phone during the real thing.” He pouted, but relented. I watched that cute, tight butt of his walk out of my room and down the hallway. I sighed softly and hugged myself once he was out of view. Why couldn’t he be having trouble with more classes so I could spend more time tutoring him? Like French, the language of love…c’est dommage… He was just too perfect… I was lucky he had this one tiny flaw, at least.

Okay, enough gushing. I had my own studying to do. It wouldn’t do for the tutor to fall behind, would it? I opened up my notebook and read through my recent notes. I was really enjoying this class. Maybe I could major in statistics when I got to college next year.

A sudden buzz shook me out of my daydream. Scott’s phone vibrated, slowly skittering across the table. I glanced at the door. I didn’t want to bother him in the middle of his practice test. But what if it were something urgent? It wouldn’t hurt to just check, right? And if it weren’t something important, I’d put it right back.

I flipped his phone over.

There was a chat notification.

The preview read, “Just tell Kathleen that…”

My heart leapt.

That could definitely be important. Maybe someone was telling him to tell Kathleen that there was a fire. Or there was a kitten in trouble. Or World War III had begun. This warranted further investigation.

I went to the door and checked the hallway. Scott was nowhere to be seen. I went back in, took a deep breath, and unlocked his phone. He had checked it earlier, and I had seen his password. Having a head for numbers could be very useful. I found the app the notification had come from, and opened it. I read the full message.

“Just tell Kathleen that giving you a blowjob will boost her GPA. She’ll be gagging on it in a second. That girl would do anything to be valedictorian.”

I scoffed. That was not true! Although, I mean, maybe if that were the only way to become valedictorian, and it were Scott, I might consider it… Would it really be the worst way to boost my grade? Not that I had ever given one… I had practiced, for sure, on bananas and cucumbers and bottles, imagining Scott’s moans and groans, but I had never had a real boyfriend. Not unless you counted “going out” with Terry Stevens for two days back in third grade.

Wait, why were they discussing me anyway? I scrolled up for more context. Scott had sent a message. “I’m studying with Kathleen now and I can’t get this boner to go away. What should I do?” I felt a swell of pride in my chest. I made him hard? Wow…that was flattering… A blush of warmth spread through my loins. All that time we had been sitting side by side, he had been hiding a hard-on in his jeans? I wished I had noticed…

What sort of group was this? I checked out the details. There were about twenty or so guys from the senior class in it, and it was called Girl Rankings. I scrolled through, my mouth agape. It was full of blunt, crass, completely inappropriate comments about the girls in our grade. And it was making me wet…

“Check out Emily’s jugs today. No way she’s wearing a bra! They’re bouncing everywhere.”

“Amy bent over in front of me in gym class today and she was wearing a thong. I had to go jack off escort ataşehir in the locker room. I thought I was gonna jizz my pants.”

“Damn, I want to spank Nina’s ass. She’s thick!”

“Zoe blew me last night. No way she’s a virgin. She sucks like a porn star.”

“I couldn’t take my eyes off Miss Fox’s cleavage today. I’m totally gonna ask her out after graduation!”

“Did you see Kathleen at the water park? She looked like a photo finish at a zeppelin race in that bikini! I wish the water slide had taken her top off.”

I could feel myself blushing, warmth spreading across my cheeks and chest. This was how the boys of our class talked about us when they were safely away from our hearing? We were just tits and asses to them? Holes for their cocks? When I was busy talking to Derek about class during the field trip, he was imagining me naked, fantasizing about my breasts? Beneath that veneer of friendliness, they were horny beasts, planning how they could ravage us? I bit my lip and clenched my thighs, aware of a warm moistness growing in my panties.

There were even polls! Best Ass, Biggest Cocktease, Cutest Face, Sluttiest, Best Tits…even stuff like Best Armpits and Best Nip Slip. Beneath each poll were messages from the guys, justifying their votes. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I saw that Scott had voted for me for Best Ass, Cutest Face, and Best Tits. And he had voted Maria Gonzalez for Sluttiest. Good choice. She was a total hoe-bag.

I couldn’t help but notice that most of Scott’s comments were about me. “I just love Kathleen’s ass. It’s so big and round. Did you see her in that dress at the dance? I want to bend her over my knee and spank her black and blue.”

I could feel my cheeks burning as I continued, reading his innermost thoughts about me. This is what Scott was thinking while I tutored him? “Kathleen’s got such an adorable face. Her brown, crescent eyes, her little nose, her dimples, and those plump, red lips. Can’t you just picture those wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down as she stares into your eyes?”

“I’m thinking of asking out Kathleen to prom, what do you guys think? I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a boyfriend, and who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky. Just wish I knew how she felt about me.” He wanted to ask me to prom? My heart raced. Of course I’d say yes. I hoped he’d ask me… How lucky did he want to get, though? I quietly wondered just how lucky I’d let him get. Probably luckier than I should, but how could I say no to those mazarine eyes, that dashing smile, that handsome, tall face beneath his scruffy, dirty-blonde hair? I felt like a slut for admitting it, but if Scott wanted it, I’d probably do it for him.

I saw my name near the top of a list and paused. I had won second place in the Best Tits poll! I checked whether Scott had voted for me. He had! I beamed. I looked down at my chest. So, they were good for something besides backaches after all…

Just beneath the poll was another message from Scott. “Kathleen’s tits are just perfect. I can barely pay attention in class when she’s sitting next to me in those tight shirts. Those huge, creamy melons are impossible to keep my eyes off of. I want to stand behind her and reach up her shirt. I keep daydreaming about titfucking her.” I blushed. It’s not like I could help it. Most shirts were tight when you had tits the size of cantaloupes… But…what was titfucking? How did you fuck a tit?

I kept reading. The next message was a link from Scott, and he had commented, “Just like this,” with a winking emoji. I couldn’t resist my curiosity. I didn’t want to. I clicked on the link. The page opened.

A young, nude woman was sitting next to a handsome man with a rather obvious bulge in his pants. Her hands were on his thigh, rubbing it up and down hungrily, as though she were starved for its presence. She tore open his pants and tugged them down, revealing a long, thick cock, proudly erect. I bit my lip, wondering how Scott’s compared.

The camera switched to his point of view. His manhood rose magnificently between his thighs, proof of his potency, his virility. And above it, waiting eagerly, was the naked woman, her full, heavy breasts even larger than my own. Although, I noticed, they weren’t quite as perky. She spat onto her breasts and massaged them until they glistened. She then enveloped his cock with her breasts and began to bounce up and down, her hands over her breasts, keeping his shaft inside of her cleavage as she caressed his cock with her tits.

This must be titfucking, I realized… I stared silently as she continued her work, the head of his cock vanishing between her breasts with each bob, only to reappear a moment later. My own cleavage felt warm in vicarious lasciviousness. I pushed my breasts together, imagining how it would feel to have a burning hot, rock hard shaft there, to hear Scott’s moans and pants as I gave him the pleasure he had fantasized about for kadıköy escort so long.

From out of sight came a heavy grunt. The man’s hips bucked as the woman held her breasts still for him, letting him fuck her body. A thick spurt of cum gushed out of him, then another, and another, until a shimmering, white puddle had formed in her cleavage, surrounding his big, swollen head.

The video ended. Wow… My cheeks smoldered. My heart thundered. I let out the breath I had been holding. I hadn’t even realized that my hand had found its way between my legs. I kept rubbing, slowly.

I thought for a moment in silence before coming to a conclusion.

I could do that.

* * * * *

I walked into the dining room and swallowed my fear. “Time’s up,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. God, he was going to think I was an idiot. He was going to laugh at me for sure, and his next message to his friends would be about what an idiot I was.

He looked up from his booklet. His pencil fell onto the table, and his jaw would have followed were it not attached. “Kath! Y-you changed your shirt,” he observed.

“I spilled something on it,” I lied. “This was all that was clean.” In truth, the last time I had worn this shirt had been two cup sizes ago. The plunging neckline had been titillating back then. Now it was practically obscene, especially without a bra. I could feel the fabric straining, heroically containing the pressure of my breasts, keeping the dam from bursting. I also knew from when I had first modeled this shirt in the mirror that the hardness of my nipples was obvious to the briefest of glances, and judging from Scott’s eyes, he had discovered this fact, as well. Not surprising, considering how thorough his observation was. I felt as though he had x-ray vision and could see my naked body beneath my clothes with those intense eyes of his.

“Ready to go over your answers?” I asked. No reaction. I coughed and repeated myself.

“What? Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Good,” I said, sitting down next to him. I opened up the practice booklet, and we went over his answers one by one. With each question, I moved imperceptibly closer to him, until our shoulders touched. I leaned over the table, letting my breasts rest on the wood, threatening to bury the book beneath them. Every time he went to look at the answers, my tits were in his way. I could feel his gaze on me. I knew he was staring, using the study guide as a pretext to aim his eyes towards me. I loved it, knowing that he was ogling my body, fantasizing about fucking me, about groping me and squeezing me.

And, evidently, he was loving it, too. I glanced down and noticed something long and thick in the leg of his jeans. I let my hand rest on his thigh. He twitched, but didn’t move away. I knew I was just inches away from his cock. It was so hard to keep my hand still. I wanted to reach down immediately and grasp his manhood tightly in my hand, feel it throb in my grip. I wanted to hold his cock and make him feel amazing, I wanted to use my body to make him happy. I couldn’t wait any longer.

“You’re really amazing at this, Scott.” My hand began to slowly move up and down his leg, my nails grazing against the inside of his thigh. He squirmed. “I’m so impressed by you.”

“Thanks, Kath. I have a good tutor.”

“No, it’s all of your hard work,” I said with special emphasis. “You really deserve a reward.”

“A reward?” he repeated. Even with all the blood rushing away from his brain, even he must know what was coming.

“Mhm.” My hand slid up, and this time, it didn’t stop until his shaft was in my palm. A groan escaped his lips. I hoped he hadn’t just cum. I wanted to have more fun with him than that… “A very special reward,” I continued. “One I’ve been wanting to give to you for a long, long time,” and definitely not only for the last thirty minutes since I learned what titfucking was.

“Okay,” he gasped, putty in my hands. Already, he had leaned back in his chair and parted his legs, giving me easy access to my prize. I got off my chair and knelt between his legs. From down here, that bulge looked a lot bigger. I ran my fingernails along its length and was rewarded with a delightful shudder. It leapt up, trying to escape his pants. I stifled a gasp. It was practically its own creature, with a mind of its own… I continued trailing my finger up and down his hardness, watching it straining against its cruel confinement. I really should be merciful…

I gripped his fly and looked up at him sweetly. “May I?” I asked. He could only nod, his eyes full of awe and disbelief, as though he weren’t sure whether this were a dream or a dream come true. I unzipped his fly and tugged down his pants to his ankles. His manhood rose against his boxers, the tip of it visible through one leg. It wanted to be free so badly, and I would grant it that wish, and more. I pulled his boxers down fervently, and his cock sprung up, wild and free.

My maltepe escort bayan eyes went wide as I watched it slowly tremble with each heartbeat. My first cock. Scott’s cock. Scott’s precious manhood, ready and waiting for me to bring it to orgasm, to make him cum. Had another girl been here before me? Or was I the first woman to show him the joys of manhood? I hoped the latter. I wanted to be his introduction to carnal pleasure, I wanted him to think about me every time he orgasmed, remembering his first climax with a woman. I wanted to always occupy a special place in his heart and his fantasies.

I reached out and grabbed a man’s penis for the first time. It was hotter than I expected. Harder, too… I thought it would be rubbery, but he was firm and solid. Scott moaned softly as I explored, my hands wandering up and down his shaft as I stroked and ogled him. A wiry, thich bush of dark pubic hair sat above his large balls. His long, smooth, sleek shaft had a thick, dark band around its middle. His head was so smooth and red, and I hadn’t realized how big it would be. I mean, I had seen them in porn before, but up close, inches from my faces, it seemed so much bigger, so grand, almost divine. No wonder so many cultures had worshipped the phallus. I was ready to convert here and now.

But enough studying, I reminded myself. It was time for the final exam. I bit my lip and prayed I would impress him. I pulled my shirt up and over my head. Scott gasped as I bared my breasts before him, the objects of his fantasies finally revealed. I looked up into his eyes. He wasn’t looking at mine. His gaze aimed further down than that. I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him entranced by my body. I crossed my arms below them, propping them up for his view.

“Do you like them?” I asked.

“I love them,” he confessed. “They’re amazing…”

I bit my lip. What a delight to hear him say so… “I’ve noticed you staring at them, you naughty boy. I thought you deserved a better view.” I grabbed my breasts, pushing them up towards him, deepening my ample cleavage. My nipples poked urgently against my palms, desperate for attention, hungry for his gaze. “Feel them.”

He didn’t argue. He reached down and took a breast in each hand, clumsily but enthusiastically fondling them. I mewled. He didn’t spare a second of eye contact for me. He was focused entirely on my chest. I didn’t mind at all. Watching him so joyously groping my body, using my body for his own pleasure, filled me with arousal and pride. He kneaded and rubbed, massaged and squeezed, with a slow thoroughness that made me think he was committing every sensation to memory. Good. Let me be his masturbation fantasy. Let him cum to me every night in the shower.

But I wanted more. I pulled away. “I’m gonna make you feel good,” I promised him, reassuring that disappointed face. I moved his hands aside and leaned forward, enveloping his cock with my breasts.

His shaft pounded within my cleavage, his pulse racing, its heat suffusing through my breasts to my heart. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, allowing myself a long sigh to savor this moment, his manhood against my heart, between my breasts, exactly where it belonged. His manly aroma wafted up, his arousal obvious by touch, sight, and scent. I would be happy just sitting here like this, feeling every one of his heartbeats against my chest. But I knew I’d be even happier making him orgasm with just my tits until my chest was covered with his warm, thick, delicious cum.

I began my worship.

I held my breasts together, making sure his cock was nice and snug. I spit onto his cock, somewhat abashed, but a quick glance at his goofy grin assured me that he was delighted with my performance so far. I started to massage my breasts around his cock, softly pushing against his shaft, spreading my saliva until his shaft slipped easily between my tits.

He moaned loudly, “Oh, Kath,” as I bobbed my body up and down, keeping my breasts tightly around him. I had a marvelous view of his big, glistening head, appearing and disappearing back into my cleavage with each bounce. His uncontrolled moans and sighs and grunts of pleasure echoed in my ears. Every groan I elicited from him filled me with proud satisfaction, with the knowledge that I had this power over him, to bring him pleasure, to bring him to orgasm, I hoped. This young man I had had a crush on for so long, who had crushed on me, as well, was now moaning and panting because of me, because of my body. I was the cause of this hard-as-steel manhood between my breasts.

“How’s it feel” I asked, looking up into those mazarine eyes, eyes that were staring back at devotee with awed appreciation.

“You’re amazing, Kath. Don’t stop,” he begged. “Keep going.” I gladly did so. I kept moving up and down, my heavy breasts resting on his thighs each time I hit my nadir. A few drops of clear fluid dripped out of his cock. He was close. I was torn between making this moment last for as long as I could and bringing him to orgasm as fast as I could. I chose the latter. I quickened my pace, moving faster and his faster. His breath hastened after me. His hands gripped the seat as he grunted and said, “I’m gonna cum, Kath.” Music to my ears.

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