Ken’s tutoring session with Amy lingered in his mind the entire school day. Butterflies tickled his stomach as students passed their homework forward in Mrs. Furukawa’s last-period math class. Meeting Amy had been otherworldly–like meeting an alien, or being in the presence of a benevolent goddess.

Ken stared off into space pondering analogies until he felt something poking at his gakuran from behind. *Right.* He grabbed the stack of homework assignments, added his own, and passed them forward.

Okay, maybe those were exaggerations. Whatever the case, it was a welcome distraction from certain… other girls he could potentially be thinking about. And Amy was so far above him in the social hierarchy of Kaneko that it wasn't like she'd ever date him, so there was no pressure. He could just be himself. He could *relax…*

He needed to see her again. Not because he was daydreaming about the warmth of her chest, or the way she sucked on her pen, no… scheduling another tutoring session before his mother could do it for him just seemed like the responsible thing to do.

Ken turned his focus to Mrs. Furukawa as she started her lesson. Amy would want him to, after all.

As the last bell rang Ken quickly packed up his books and headed to the library. Banners for the library’s tutoring service featured prominently on its walls and on the school's website. Maybe he could re-enlist Amy’s services there.

“Nishihara,” the petite girl at the information desk greeted him as he walked in. She didn’t bother whispering; the space emptied out during the break between class hours and club meetings. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything,” Ken said. He’d forgotten Chloe Ashikaga worked here. She–along with Ken, up until this semester–was part of Kaneko’s tech crew, the club for students who helped produce and build sets for the drama club’s plays. Ken had been friends with Chloe since middle school, but she'd developed an irritable side freshman year, and they'd grown apart a little bit. Ken's theory was it had something to do with puberty.

“Enjoying all the free time now that you quit?” Chloe stared up at him through light brown eyes and heavy eyeliner, the latter another product of puberty. Chloe would have preferred not to stand out relative to her peers, but her bright pink hair made that all but impossible, so to compensate she wore black at every available opportunity. Ken had always thought the look was kind of hot on her, but he’d rather die than tell her that.

“I wish. Mom says I have to graduate though.” Self-deprecating humor usually prevented the worst of Chloe’s abrasiveness. “Anyway I had a question about the tutoring services.”

“Oh you’re serious about it,” Chloe said, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you.” Her voice reeked of sarcasm, but then again, it usually did. “Yeah we have a form you can sign up with. You just put down the class you want help with and your schedule and the librarian finds a tutor who’s available for it.”

“Is it possible,” he started, carefully, “to request a certain tutor? Or are they just randomly assigned?”

"If you're looking for Amy Matsumura, don't bother," Chloe said flatly, as if she was tired of explaining this. "She's booked until graduation."

"I–how–no, that's not–" Ken stammered, then regained his composure. “Huh. I honestly didn’t even know she was a tutor.” This had at least been true, up until yesterday.

Chloe looked him up and down quickly. “Yeah, she’s probably not your type anyway.”

“What does that mean??” Ken feigned offense, but he earnestly wanted to know.

The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes. “You want me to get the form or not?”

"Um–actually, I’m good. Just, one more question. This might sound weird, but–do tutors ever do, like, appointments at people’s houses? Or do they only take place here?"

"You're looking for a *house call* with Amy Matsumura?" She waited a moment, as if processing the absurdity of the request, then burst into laughter. The sound pierced the quiet of the empty library, but Chloe only grew louder. After a moment she was practically crying, covering her eyes and bracing herself on the table as she broke down over the ridiculous hypothetical.

Mercifully, the office door behind the desk finally opened, and an older woman looked out at them. “Chloe!” she hissed. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep it down?”

Chloe stopped, but only reluctantly. “I’m sorry Ms. Miura,” she said, catching her breath. “He just made a good joke, that’s all.”

“I’m serious. You are on *thin ice,* young lady!” Ms. Miura said, and closed the door.

“You really are an idiot, Nishihara.” She said it sympathetically, but that didn’t dampen Ken’s embarrassment. “Good luck in your class. Maybe come visit us sometime. I-I mean it’s not like we miss you or anything! The–the set is cool, that’s all.”

“Thanks, Chloe.” Ken adjusted his bookbag on his shoulder and turned to leave. “You’re really sweet for thinking of me.” The only other way to combat Chloe’s personality was to be just as sardonic back to her.

“Hey! It’s not like th–” Chloe began to raise her voice, but he was already out the door.

—

“Hey dad,” Ken said, breaking the awkward silence that usually resulted when his mother wasn’t at dinner to prompt conversation. She’d left on an extended weekend trip with her girlfriends, but she’d made sure to leave plenty of food, along with detailed instructions for a variety of chores that Ken already knew how to do. “You know that math tutor mom got for me?”

His father appraised him over thick spectacles. “Oh yeah, she told me about that. She said it went well. Amy, right?”

“Uh–um, yeah, it went good.” Conversations with his dad felt so perfunctory sometimes. “I was wondering, did you have any idea how mom hired her? Is there like, a website or something?” Ken tried not to sound like he cared too much.

“I assumed she went through your guidance counselor. Why don’t you ask Amy yourself? She should be over in like–” Ken’s dad glanced at the clock–”hmm, fifteen minutes?”

“Wait what?” A piece of leftover beef stew fell out of Ken’s mouth and back into his bowl, and a drop of broth splashed onto his shirt. But if Ken’s dad noticed, he didn’t react.

“Mom didn’t tell you? Or–maybe she told me to tell you and I forgot. Sorry. But yeah. And I won’t be working tonight, so you’re free to study wherever you’d like.”

Ken began scarfing down his food, the same way Amy had eaten the night before. “No, she didm’t. Whadever though.”

“You know,” his dad said, “your grades have been pretty good lately. I can tell your mom to stop making appointments if it really bothers–”

“Nonono it’s ok! I meam–” Ken took a big gulp of food and tried to collect his thoughts. Amy’s impending arrival had sent his mind racing. “Yeah it’s kinda weird she does that but Amy’s a really wonderful tutor. I mean a good tutor. I think it’s helping.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Ken tried to sound as genuine as possible. He was *not* freaking out, and if he was, his dad definitely did *not* need to know about it.

—

Ken had just finished changing back into his school uniform when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” he called, determined to let Amy in himself, but his dad didn’t even respond. Ken tugged on the sides of his unbuttoned gakuran. *You can do this. She’s just a normal girl. ...Who’s really smart and pretty and so stunning you can barely even remember what happened last night.*

“Hiiii…” Ken trailed off as he opened the door. He still wasn’t used to seeing her up close. Her face, framed perfectly on either side by long, jet-black hair, was rosy from the cold, almost glowing.

“Hey!” Amy’s breath was visible against the chilly air as she spoke. “You dressed up for me!”

“Yeah,” Ken laughed as she stepped inside, “the nicest outfit in my wardrobe. Also I spilled food on my shirt.”

“So you *didn’t* do it for me? Ken!” She cried in mock indignation as he closed the door.

"Oh, was–um–"

"Ken," Amy laughed, touching his shoulder, "I'm kidding. *Relax.*" Ken's thoughts flickered at the word, like an old TV being turned off and on to fix an unreliable screen. Amy was right–he should relax around her. Amy was always right. “It’s the finest outfit *I* own, too,” she added as she took off her shoes.

"Did you eat, by the way?" Ken asked. I guess mom wanted to make sure–"

"Yup!" Amy said. "She actually made me promise I would."

Ken narrowed his eyes. "You bought a convenience store meal, didn't you."

"Oh my god you are *just* like her!" Ken could feel himself blushing. "Come on, let's get started. I have a lot of homework to do too." She took his hand for a brief moment and then started up the stairs.

*Holy…* Amy's skirt dangled right in front of Ken's face as they ascended, swishing with every step she took. Such a pert, round ass, barely covered by that thin layer of fabric… Ken’s thoughts melted into a puddle of lust as he watched it sway back and forth languorously. Every motion it made it seemed to beg to be slapped and squeezed and played with. Back and forth, the hem so tantalizingly close to his face that Ken found his mind wandering to what might be underneath. What kind of panties did Amy wear? What color? Or maybe she was even–

Amy reached the top of the staircase with a heavy step, and her skirt rose even higher, briefly threatening to reveal her nether regions. But right before it did Amy smoothed the fabric over her butt, leaving Ken with nothing to stare at beyond the thin strip of bare thigh skin poking out above her long, black socks.

She smiled at him, apparently oblivious. "Your room is… thhhat one, right?" Amy pointed to Ken's door, snapping him out of his daze.

"Yeah. Um, we don't have to study in here if you don't want to. My dad said we're free to use the kitchen if you'd be more, uh, comf–"

Amy cut him off. "Awww but I like your room! It's…" She searched for a word. "Private."

Ken swallowed. Did she really just say that? A hundred ‘private’ things he’d like to do with Amy Matsumura flashed through his mind. “Uh–yeah! It, uh, totally is. I agree. Let’s do it in here then. Erm, study, I mean.”

Amy giggled. “Of course. After you.”

Ken sighed internally. Would he ever get used to this?

Inside his room, Amy set her satchel down and stretched. Ken tried not to look as her breasts strained against the buttons on her shirt. “Mmm, what a nice night to just sit down and study.”

Ken raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Really? A Friday?”

“Oh! Um–sure, why not?”

“I’m just surprised you’re not doing something else. Like student council, or… I dunno…” Ken trailed off, realizing he couldn’t simply say ‘hot girl stuff.’ Surely with school ending soon she’d be getting invited to parties, or asked out on dates…

“Oh, student council’s no big deal.” Amy flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder, as if for emphasis. “It picks up when we’re running events, or doing the budget, but right now it’s not a big commitment. So, what's the plan for tonight? Any specific concepts you wanna start with?”

"Honestly, I actually had no idea you were coming until like a moment ago, so I don’t really have a plan."

“Your mom didn’t tell you?”

Ken laughed. “She barely tells me anything! I don’t even know how she hired you. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

The beginnings of a smile appeared on Amy’s face, then vanished. “Oh! Yeah normally I tutor through the library’s program, but I’ve got some free time this semester and they have limited hours, so I actually made my own website for it.”

“Your own website? Wow…”

Amy blushed a little. “It's not like, super advanced or anything, I just used one of those online templates. Here, if you wanna check it out, the link is on my business card.” Amy reached into her pack and handed Ken a small, white paper, which he glanced at before putting into his pocket.

It read

> Amy Matsumura

> Student - Kaneko Academy (Senior)

> Math & General Studies Tutor

The line below had a phone number, and the name of her website lined the bottom, in small lettering.

“This is very… official,” Ken said, slipping the card into his pocket.

“I *know,* I know, I’m a nerd, you can say it,” Amy said.

“No, I–” If anyone else had made a business card and a website, Ken might have considered it dorky. But Amy doing it was irresistibly cute. And besides, she probably had enough clients to make it worthwhile. “I’m just happy you take it seriously. I can imagine some other senior half-assing it, since we only have a few months of school left.”

“Yeah, I get really into things sometimes.” She giggled as she said it. “That’s just… how I am. Now–” Amy pressed her palms together, ”–let’s get started. My biggest priority as a tutor is to keep both of us from getting… distracted.”

*Too late for that.* Literally any other tutor would have been less distracting than Amy, no matter how studious she was. Even her most innocuous mannerisms seemed to effortlessly highlight her attractive features.

Fortunately, Ken didn’t need much help for much of the night. Amy guided him for a bit but eventually began to do her own homework, and somehow that implicit confidence, together with the way she worked so quietly and diligently, helped him concentrate.

As they neared the end of the scheduled hour Amy looked up from her paper to check on him. She drew herself up to Ken’s textbook, pulling her arms back and pushing her chest out as she scooched forward in her chair, which drew Ken’s gaze again toward her noticeable bust.

“Hey, how’d this one go?” Amy pointed her pencil's eraser at a problem in the textbook.

“Oh I skipped that one,” Ken said. “I’m coming back to it later.”

"Ken, that's the whole reason I'm here! They're meant to be done in order; if you get stuck on one–" She clapped her hands together to emphasize the word *stuck*, like in her magnet example from the previous session. "...you'll most likely get stuck on the rest, too.”

Amy sighed, and Ken's gaze followed her fingers as she drew them up to her shirt to loosen her school tie. "I want to make sure you're comfortable telling me when you don't know the answer, okay?" The question sounded like something Mrs. Furukawa would say. A younger, sexier Furukawa.

"Yeah. No, you're right, I just didn't wanna interrupt, I dunno."

"Mm-hmm. Now let's see. 'Given the position equation for simple harmonic motion below, show that d2x/dt2 equals -x*w^2, where w is angular frequency.’ Okay… so how far did you get with this one?”

“Well we didn’t cover this in class, so I saw it and got a little overwhelmed,” Ken said. “I don’t think I’ve learned about simple harmonic motion for years.”

“Ah…” Amy said knowingly, “the trick with these kinds of word problems is that while it *looks* like a totally new concept, once you break it down it turns out it’s what you were studying all along. So what was the lesson today?”

“The chain rule…”

“Which is d d x…” Amy pointed toward the paper for Ken to write down the formula. Ken lost his concentration at the sight of Amy’s bosom being squashed between her upper arms.

“D d x… uh… d… d…” Amy brushed away a tress of hair that had fallen over her chest. *Were* they DD cups? Or perhaps bigger? He was fully staring now as Amy rested her palms on her thighs, causing her tits to jiggle a little under her shirt. *Was she even *wearing* a bra?* Ken shook his head and tried to steel himself. “Sorry. Um…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Amy said. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned against him, her tit brushing against his arm. “I get it–I know it can be overwhelming sometimes. Why don’t I do another visual demonstration?”

“Uh, s-sure…”

"I’ll start from the beginning, and if you’re starting to feel lost again, just let me know," Amy said calmly. "Hm, what can I use for…" She made a show of searching around for something, then looked down at her chest and started undoing her tie. Amy's breasts squished under her hands as she shimmied the tie off and undid the top couple buttons of her shirt.

"There we go." She held the tie by the narrow end and dangled it in front of Ken. "So pretend this is simple harmonic motion. I know I'm keeping it swinging, but pretend I'm not, and you just have this tie swaying back and forth on its own. Look closely, ok?"

"Okay…" Ken wasn't sure this was necessary, but he nodded his head anyway.

"Track it back and forth with your eyes as it swings. Now, at what point is its velocity the lowest?

Ken's eyes darted to either side. "On the sides. Because it has to stop to change direction."

"Very good," Amy purred. "Now, where is its *acceleration* the lowest?"

"Um…" Ken thought about it for a second. This was obvious, right?

"Make sure you're concentrating as best as you can…"

As Ken stared deeper into the red tie, he thought about the way it had been resting on her breasts not a minute earlier. The way it hung over the slope of her chest…

"It's… the middle… right?"

"That's right, Ken." A smile had begun to creep over Amy's face. “Now, what about the rate of change of the acceleration? When is that the lowest?"

"The… what…?"

"The rate of change of the acceleration," Amy said softly, as if not to disturb him. "Can you tell me what that is? Maybe stare a little harder if you're having trouble remembering…"

Watching the tie had become an awful lot of effort. "I…" Ken practically froze in place, his eyes the only part of his body that moved. *Maybe if I stare hard enough…* "I'm a little…" Ken managed.

"...Lost?"

Ken nodded. He had to keep staring. Amy would know how to help him. Only Amy.

"Aowh, that's okay," Amy cooed sympathetically. "*Relax for me.*" Ken's shoulders slumped and his eyelids sagged as his tutor said the hypnotic trigger.

"That's it, deeply relaxed and calm now." Amy's voice had become a soothing murmur. "You might find your eyelids becoming tired with every swing my tie makes, and that's perfectly okay. It's bound to happen when you stare so deeply at such a relaxing, harmonic motion. So easy to become lost in as it swings back and forth in front of you, as you start to relax all your other thoughts away. Feel those eyelids sag even further. All your stress, and worry, just melt away as you relax for me. You can just let yourself go completely blank as you continue to stare. As you allow it to fascinate you."

Amy sidled up to Ken and brought her free hand to the back of his head, holding it in place. Then she began to subtly caress his hair with her fingers. "Unable to remember what you were even thinking about before you started watching it. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists to you except my tie, and my voice in your head. Relax for me. Sink deeper and deeper down into my warm words… loving the way they sound in your ears… lost to the world as the waves of sweet sounds vibrate around in your ears. Baaack, and forth, just like the tie… baaack, and forrrth… such simple, harmonic motion taking you nice and deep… so deep that when I count from 3 to 1 you’ll find yourself giving in completely to the sound waves echoing around in your head… and to my gently swinging tie… utterly unable to resist total relaxation as it overwhelms your tired neck… your droopy eyelids… and the rest of your heavy body.

“3… 2… 1.” As she said the final number Amy tapped the back of Ken’s head with her finger, as if to remind him of the motion his head made the last time he fell into trance. Sure enough Ken’s eyes slipped close, his neck muscles went slack, and his head hung forward. Amy draped the tie back around her neck, smirking.

“You’re doing so, so good for me. Because it feels *good* to do what I tell you to. Good to obey my commands. And I want to make sure you're getting the absolute *most*"--she briefly stroked a hand down Ken's limp upper arm–"out of our sessions, so I'm going to ask you a few questions. And every time I do, I'm going to end it with the phrase, 'tell me.'" Amy continued to stroke Ken's hair and shoulder as she leaned into him, speaking in a calm yet commanding tone. "Every time I say this phrase, you will feel a powerful compulsion to answer honestly. To tell me the complete truth. You will not resist this. You will not be able to resist. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Amy."

*"Tell me."*

"Yes, Amy."

—

Amy Matsumura’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t believe any of this actually worked, less that it worked so well. Amy had studied the process, but she’d never actually hypnotized anyone in person before. Her voice shook with nervous anticipation as she thought about the suggestions she planned to slip into his subconscious, but Ken didn't stir at all. He really had been a perfect hypnotic subject.

“*Very* good. Now *tell me…* did you think about me today?”

“Yes, Amy,” Ken muttered.

"Yeah? What did you think about?"

"Scheduling… more sessions…"

"Oh, it makes me so happy to hear that." Actually, it made Amy more than just happy. She felt something stirring deep inside her. She wasn't horny, no–it was just… thrilling, that's it. She was used to guys fighting for her attention, and for once it felt good to work for it, to squeeze the desire out of one. Especially a guy she'd just met. She studied Ken's slumped torso. Okay, a *cute* guy she'd just met.

"Did you have any other thoughts about me, Ken?"

"Yes…"

"Mm, like what? *Tell me.*"

"Like… like…" Ken whined, reluctant.

"Ah ah ah, it's okay. Relax for me, that's it. Sink nice and deep, and focus on the blissful relaxation my voice brings you. And getting ready to drop even deeper as I count from 3 to 1 yet again."

Amy's tone was soft but unrelenting, a barrage of words meant to distract Ken from the thoughts that had threatened to interrupt his trance.

"3, 2, 1 and dropping ten times deeper now, ohhh there you go. Mmm, notice now nice that feels…" Amy continued her encouragement, practically moaning into Ken's ear as he slumped even further forward. His chest hit the edge of the desk, and Amy guided his head down gently onto the surface of his open notebook.

"Now *tell me…*" Amy leaned down so she could hear him better. "What else did you think about me?"

"I… can't…" Ken's voice was muffled, but Amy still heard it. She furrowed her eyebrows. Why wasn't the trigger working? She'd taken him as deep as she knew how. Maybe he'd respond better to a different type of stimulation.

Amy lifted Ken's shoulders until he sat upright again. A small dot of saliva had dribbled onto his homework, but not enough of one that Mrs. Furukawa would mark him off for it once it had dried. Hopefully. "That's perfectly okay, Ken. Sit up nice and straight and relax for me. I want you to be comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that when I touch you you won't even react to it. Like being touched by me is the most normal, natural thing in the whole world. I’m sure you can imagine what that might be like."

Amy rested a hand on Ken's thigh and he didn't recoil. But in the space between his legs, the fabric began to shift. Amy watched it as she caressed Ken's inner thigh, and with every stroke the tent in Ken's pants grew higher.

"Good boy. Gooood boyyy…" Amy said softly. "Do you want me to keep touching you?"

Ken moaned. "Yes… please…"

"Then *tell me…*" Amy laid as much seduction into her voice as she knew how.

"Please… touch me…" Ken's breathing was ragged. Amy swung a thigh high-covered leg over him, and he drew in a sharp breath. Her knee hovered not an inch from Ken's desperate erection as her supple thigh rested over his own, gently trapping him in his chair.

Amy peeled back one of Ken's eyelids to find his eyes had rolled upward, and she felt a pulse of excitement run through her seeing the physical effects of her hypnosis.

"Touch you where, Ken? Use your words." Amy leaned close enough into Ken that, had he been lucid, he could have smelled her conditioner.

"C-can't… Amy please…"

But if he was hypnotized… why was he so reluctant to answer? Her gaze drifted down to the bulge in Ken's slacks. Most guys Amy knew would have loved to describe in lurid detail all their sexual fantasies about her, given the chance.

"Hmm~? Please what? Do you want… *this?*" Amy braced herself on Ken's shoulders and straddled him, resting her thighs on top of his. Ken's swivel chair creaked a little as Amy settled into her pupil's lap. She smoothed the front of her skirt, briefly brushing against Ken's hardness, and rested an arm over his shoulder, admiring her unresponsive subject.

"Because…" Amy started, cradling his chin with her fingers and pulling his fluttering eyelids up to hers, "it sure seems like you do. So. *Tell me.*"

Amy's beautiful eyes could have bored into Ken's soul. Her chest heaved in anticipation, her breasts rising and falling expectantly, inches from his face. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and she'd cut off every possible avenue of escape. He’d never be able to resist her like this. "Amy, I… I'm so fucking h–"

And at that moment Ken's phone vibrated loudly on his desk.

Amy Matsumura turned toward the noise and scowled. She hated smartphones. She hated how people's heads were always buried in them, she hated their effect on people's attention spans, and she hated how difficult it was to socialize without one. Guys seemed to think Amy's absence from social media added to her mystique, but the truth was she was just stubborn.

Ken stirred a little, and Amy twisted herself around in his lap and grabbed the device to silence it, rubbing up against Ken's crotch and eliciting a dazed moan in the process. Ken's chair started to turn as Amy fiddled with the screen. *How do you turn these things off?* She jabbed at it with her finger in frustration, and a text message notification popped up.

> Steph

The name looked familiar, but Amy couldn't quite place it. Then she read the message preview.

> "Hey babe! [Kissing emoji] I'm gonna be in town this weekend. Wanna…"

*Ken Nishihara has a girlfriend?!* As she processed the information the phone shook again, and Amy panicked. She twisted to place the device back on the desk, but this made the chair swivel even more, and she lost her balance. The phone flew out of her hand, and Amy fell out of the chair and onto the carpet with a thud.

—

Ken woke at the sound with a start. What was going on? Amy had been demonstrating simple harmonic motion, and then it felt like he had blacked out for a moment. And now…

He opened his eyes. There, sprawled out in front of him, was Amy Matsumura in her tight little school uniform… blushing deeply… with the area under her skirt facing directly toward him. For a split second, Ken could see everything: every inch of Amy’s smooth upper thighs, and at their intersection a pair of small, white panties. They hugged her crotch so tightly Ken could even see the outline of her mound pressed against them. And he couldn't be sure, but–was there a little wet spot on them? *Holy shit.*

"Oh my god!" Both of them cried simultaneously. Ken looked away, covering his eyes.

"Is everything okay in there?" Ken's dad's voice called from somewhere in the house.

"Yes!" They both shouted back. Ken and Amy exchanged a mortified look–Ken, with his hands still mostly covering his eyes, and Amy with hers clutching the hem of her skirt.

“Okay!” came the reply, apparently satisfied, while the two of them sat for a moment, frozen in bewilderment.

"A–are you hurt?" Ken asked.

Amy moved her legs and adjusted her skirt, smoothing it out frantically. "No, I'm fine. Y-you can look now."

"What happened?" he asked, extending a hand and helping her up.

“It was totally my bad. You uh, had something on your eye, so I leaned over to get it off and lost my balance.” She let out an uneasy laugh.

“Oh right, I kinda remember you were just touching it. Is it still there?”

Amy smiled, relieved that he’d accepted her explanation, then brought her face up close, pretending to examine him. “Nope! All gone.”

“Good.”

“You got a text, by the way.”

“Oh!” Ken checked his phone. “I should probably answer this, one sec.”

Amy stewed while Ken tapped at his phone. Who *was* this girl? She refused to believe Ken was the kind of guy who’d study in his bedroom with a girl if he had a long-distance girlfriend. Then again, if there was anything Amy had learned over the last few months, it was that her instincts about men weren’t reliable in the slightest.

“There. All done. Um–where were we?"

Amy tried to smile, but she felt completely enervated. Not only had she, in a rare moment of clumsiness, let Ken see up her skirt, if she proceeded any further with her plan she'd be brainwashing him to cheat on this poor girl. Amy's morals were flexible, but not *that* flexible.

"Um–simple harmonic motion. Hey uh, I actually can't stay super late like last time. Why don't I finish explaining this one and if you need me again–" she pointed towards his pocket to remind him of the business card–"you can give me a call. Any time. Sound good?"

"Oh… sure." And with that Amy continued with the lesson.

—

After seeing Amy off, Ken shuffled up the stairs, rubbing her business card around in his pocket. He’d barely made it through the rest of the session after the insistent erection she’d somehow given him simply by wiping off his eye. It almost didn’t make sense that such an innocent gesture could consume him with lust so easily, but that only turned Ken on more. His fingers wandered deeper into his pocket. The way she'd rubbed her thigh against his leg so confidently… Ken teased his cock through the fabric before he even entered his bedroom, unable to help himself. Once inside he closed the door a little too loudly and stuffed his hand down his pants. He'd finish his homework in a couple minutes. For now, he needed some relief. He sat against the door and imagined Amy going even further–sitting on his lap… grinding on him… pulling those little panties to the side… Ken's breath hitched as he felt an orgasm approaching. This was going to take far less than a couple minutes.