The Tutorial Is Too Tough Novels & Stories

“I want to recreate one of the p**n videos I watched. The one where the tutor bends the girl over and fucks her stupid after she gets the answers right.” He chuckled, low and dark, the sound vibrating through me. “Not yet. You only got three right. You get a little gift for those three. Nothing more.” Before I could argue he stood up, grabbed me under my thighs, and lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. He carried me the two steps to the desk and set my ass right on the edge, spreading my thighs wide. My thong was soaked through. He hooked two fingers in the thin strap and yanked it to the side, exposing my bare, dripping pussy.

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She wasn’t wrong. Audrey barely acknowledged her. Her attention was locked on the video playing on the screen—an old ballet demonstration, a group of dancers moving with effortless grace. Then, her own voice filtered through the speakers. “Maintain a strong core. Shoulders down. Relax—don’t fight the movement.” She studied the footage with an intensity that told me exactly what was coming next. Halfway through, she paused the video with a slight frown. “That’s too advanced for Amelia,” she murmured, adjusting the tablet in her hands. “She needs something simpler.”

I want to gain weight, to gain muscle, so I can run as far away as possible. The next day, the tutor comes–a rigid older gentleman with a face like a crow and eyes just as black and beady. He’s neither gentle nor kind. “Hands flat on the table,” he commands in my language. He runs me through a series of responses to simple questions and commands. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes, Your Highness. No, Your Highness. I pick up as much as I can, willing my mind to expand and allow the words to settle and become familiar.

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Yet she still has the mood to tutor others? Others are fine, but Austin, Twelve Grade courses are hard to say. He is the first-to-last master of the grade every time. If you want him to be in the top 20, it is better to jump into the lake directly. ‘Others might be fine but not Austin. To begin with, twelve grade topics are very tough. And Austin has been getting the last place among students of the same grade. It’s easier for him to jump into a lake than making it into the top 20.’

TJ’s POV “I am never going to get this” and groan at Lowe and Atlas Atlas smiles at me “You will, you just need to concentrate better. Now try again” They had given me an apple to practise with, because starting small was the way to move forward apparently, but no matter how much I tried, the apple would end up in a different place either in the room or no where to be seen, one apple had even split in two. Lowe had joked that it wouldn't matter if I managed to pull that off with Alice

He shrugged nonchalantly before his lips quirked up into a smirk. I rolled my eyes at his unnecessary egotistical statement. I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling when he winked at me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later on that day, I searched for some tango videos for beginners on the web when I was done with my home works. I found several but they all seemed confusingly difficult. I tried practicing while following along the steps the woman demonstrated in the video but it was hard to get the steps. “Looks like you’re having a fun time practicing.” Ryder observed.

I pulled uр the wеbѕіtе оn mу соmрutеr аnd turnеd thе ѕсrееn tоwаrd Mаrіа. "See. They hаvе lіttlе mіnі-lесturеѕ wіth this ріесе оf сhаlk mоvіng like уоu wоuld ѕее іn a сlаѕѕ." I clicked оn a рrоblеm link. "And thеn уоu саn ѕоlvе thеѕе questions іn steps. Yоu can click fоr hіntѕ thаt pop up in аnоthеr window. I thіnk thаt аnуоnе can lеаrn оr rеlеаrn a lоt оf mаth from thіѕ ѕіtе аlоnе." Thе excitement іn my vоісе wаѕ сlеаr. I lі kе gооd teaching.

I started fumbling with the tie, my fingers trembling, all memory of the YouTube tutorial suddenly evaporated. What the hell? I am supposed to impress him. Why can't I remember the steps again? The silken fabric slipped and slid through my clumsy grasp. I sighed tried again , same thing. My heart was pounding this time in frustration. “Here,” he murmured, his voice close to my ear. He didn’t take over. Instead, he guided me. “Bring the wide end over… good. Now, under and through the loop…” His instructions were soft, intimate. I followed them, my knuckles brushing against the solid warmth of his chest through his shirt with every movement.