Saving Amy Part 5 Showtime
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Daylight Saving Time Lesson free porn video
“You are early,” her parents commented on my way in.
“No, I am not,” I responded glancing at my smartwatch prior to continuing: “I think you forgot that we have entered Daylight Saving Time.”
The couple looked at each other, with the husband clearly thinking about what I just said. After a short while, he gave up on the mental process. The conversation then turned to their seventeen-year-old daughter. I was Kate’s mathematics and physics tutor.
“Kate’s grades are improving. You are…, umm, how do I put this, a bit ‘unconventional’ with your approach. I think she appreciates another view on things,” Kate’s mom offered sincere feedback.
“Well, Thank You. She is not dumb. I think she fell into the wrong set of friends. She is constantly distracted by her friends. She is too compliant to their ‘games’. With my assistance, she will do well,” I responded.
“Apparently, we are one hour late. Kate is inside, the door is unlocked. Let yourself in,” Kate’s mom invited me into their family home.
“Kate! I’m here!” I called out to the teenager. I set up my teaching aids at the family’s dinner table as I always do. Kate did not respond to my calls, I called out to her again. Still, there was no response.
As I waited for her, my mind turned to the ‘unconventional’ relationship that I have with that teenager. I sense that I am a blend of her teacher, friend and confidant. I felt proud that she started to confide small secrets in me. I felt good that someone actually trusts me.
One more call out went unanswered so I went to look for her. Find her, I did: headphones in her ears. Eyes closed, dancing in the hallway. Thin can of deodorant in her hand, the cap still on. This was the first time seeing her nude. My eyes were drawn to her shaven vagina, which glistened with moisture and her clitoris appeared to be enlarged.
I put one and one together and decided to intervene. I walked up to the teenager, who was twenty-two-years my junior. I gently removed the deodorant can from her hand. I couldn’t let her masturbate with it. With her eyes still closed, her face turned from enjoyment to confusion.
She opened her eyes and saw me. She let out an instinctual screech but calmed down quickly. She tried to cover her engorged genitals with her hand. I gestured to her that there was no need for it. Reluctantly, and turning red, she allowed them to be on full frontal view.
“Go to your room. Finish what you started. I will wait in the living-room,” firmly I instructed her.
Kate looked at me with utter confusion. She stared at the deodorant can. I was certain at that point what she wanted to do.
“Go to your room. Finish what you started, without the ‘can’. We will talk once you released ‘the tension’,” calmly yet firmly I reiterated my point.
“I need that can!” she began to protest.
“No. It is not safe. What if you insert it the wrong way and the cup gets stuck inside of you?” I showed some annoyance in my voice.
“I need it! It’s the only thing that fits!” Kate continued her protest. I sensed that she was holding back a full feet-stomping girly tantrum. She made that mistake once with me. I treated her like a young child for a week afterwards. I guess she does learn.
She made a lunge at me trying to grab it from me. I pulled my arm back denying her the prize. She lost her footing and fell onto me. I grabbed the opportunity to embrace her. Kate surprised me by calming down.
“That can is not safe. You will build your own toy,” I suggested in the embrace.
She pulled away from the embrace. Her face said lit up with a mixture of delight, surprise and deeper sexual arousal. I invited the nude teenager to the kitchen to scrounge around. We were in luck: we found what I was hoping for.
Wax paper was almost used up, and a replacement was already purchased. I got Kate to transfer the remaining commodity onto the new roll. She didn’t realise yet that the cardboard tube would act as her new toy. I have had personal experience with that type of an object.
From my wallet, I gave Kate a gold square packet. She looked at it not knowing what it was. She flipped the object over and read the word ‘condom’ on it. Out of embarrassment, she dropped it on the floor.
“Kate. I guess you have never seen a condom before. Pick it up, and I’ll show you how to open it up,” calmly I guided her. We also moulded one end of the cardboard tube to resemble a cone. I got her to tear open the packet, and with a combination of curiosity and disgust, she handled the latex product. I made her roll it on onto the cardboard tube.
Kate was not allowed to sit down: I made that quite clear. Her vaginal fluids would transfer to the furniture and that is not exactly hygienic. Something was irritating her, as she began to squirm a little. I suspected that the amount of vaginal fluid generated in her arousal was a bit too much for the teenager. I guessed that she never felt like this before.
“Don’t touch!” I barked at Kate as she tried to wipe her vagina. She immediately backed off.
“May I?” I pushed my luck hoping to have a look, or even touch, her down there.
Kate responded by blushing and covering her face with her hands, and softly said: “yes”.
I squatted to get eye-level with the aroused teenager’s genitals. Her clitoris was protruding from her labia but still covered in its hood. Her labia, engorged and naturally parted, was filled with sticky fluid. Heavier droplets began to form strings towards the floor. As she fidgeted, they got attached to her inner thighs.
I asked for the toy. I watched as her clitoris became even bigger as Kate complied with the request. I looked up at her looking for some emotion. The sight of me looking into her eyes triggered a blush and face cover. For some unknown reason, she fully trusted me with her vagina.
I touched her with the toy. I caught her by surprise: she gasped and reflexed. I paused but she didn’t protest further. I used her abundant natural lubricant to coat the condom. I pressed it against her vagina parting her labia. Twisting the toy in order to fully cover the condom made her squirm. I decided to overcoat the condom.
“Here you go,” I tried to hand the now lubricated toy back to her. She turned away from me in embarrassment. She cradled her face in her hands. I felt I stepped over the line.
“I’m sorry,” I offered an apology, touching both her shoulders from behind.
“Oh, no. It’s not that… I’m… I'm just a bit…” Kate struggled for honest words through her embarrassment.
“You will be fine. Take the toy to your bedroom. Release the tension, and we are good,” I offered her support.
Kate picked up the toy. She looked at the tip covered in a condom lubricated in her own fluids. She looked at me, but couldn’t keep it together. Perhaps it is a little bigger than she is used to?
“Kate, what is it? Be honest,” I queried.
“Can you…, I mean…, would you mind?” social protocol was cramping her style from asking for assistance.
“You would like me to insert it the toy for you?” I asked her blatantly.
Kate pulled away. Red face buried in her hand. She just nodded a response.
I got a grin on my face. Right there in the kitchen stood a nude, horny teenage girl. She was asking a middle-aged, over-weight man to pleasure her. This had a definite effect inside my trousers.
“Are you sure?” I tried to confirm the action with her. She nodded once again.
“The rules are as follows:
“One: Both you and I can exit the game at any time for any reason, no explanation needed.
“Two: If you don’t like something say so.
“Three: You need to speak up. Let's also use colours:
“‘Green’ means ‘I’m liking this’.
‘Yellow’ means ‘I had enough’.
“‘Red’ means ‘stop now’,” I briefed her as if I had done this before. Kate acknowledged with a nod.
“Oh, one more thing, I have a ‘no touching’ rule: you are not allowed to touch your own body. I will now touch your body to get you aroused even further, and for you to get used to the touch,” I added.
I started to touch her long flowing hair on her head from behind. My hands moved down her shoulders. I moved her hands away from her face, running my fingernails along to her palms. I dragged my fingers up her forearms, then her upper arms. I ran my palms down her side: this caused her to squirm.
I stopped and backtracked to the narrowest point on her waist. I could see her getting aroused again, struggling to keep her vaginal fluids from leaking again. I moved up and down for couple times driving her deep into the desire to touch herself. She resisted the urge nicely. I needed to reward her properly. She started to clench her buttocks in an attempt to stop herself from leaking. It was to no avail.
I decided that she had enough stimulation, hence moved towards her hips. One hand reached around to touch her pubic mound. The other hand on her spine encouraged her to lean forward over a stool. I gently calmed her down as I set her up for a rear entry. Her glistening vagina was now exposed.
Kate was nervous. She tried to clench her vagina, so I allowed the tip of the condom to just touch her. I slid it towards her clitoris for additional stimulation. I picked up fresh fluids and made my way to the vaginal opening. With firm pressure, I pushed the toy inside her.
She gasped, but I felt that it was not hurting her.
“Hold your position!” I instructed her, “It will get more comfortable.”
Ten…, nine…, eight…, seven…, six-and-a-half…, six-and-a-quarter…, si…” I counted down. The mathematical joke had the desired effect of getting her slightly annoyed and worried. She knew I like to slip in geeky jokes when they are inappropriate.
I continued to count-down a little bit faster: “five, four, three, two, one, and out”.
As with my promise I pulled out the toy. I kept her in the bent-over position as I looked into her vagina. Once her vagina tightened up a little, the toy went in again. This time, I twisted and rotated it during full penetration. As before, I removed the toy and allowed some recovery. Next exercise was the classic in-and-out movement of the toy.
“Lesson over, now it is time for homework,” I reset Kate back to the vertical. I got her to face me, pulled her hands away from the face. She was blushing, her breathing has changed. This time I successfully handed over the toy.
“Come on. Off to your bedroom,” I encouraged the dumbfounded teenager.
“Will you come with me?” Kate reached out for support with unease.
“Come on, off we go,” I gave in and followed her to her chamber.
“Don’t touch! Don’t touch your vagina or the condom,” I guided her now lying on her bed as she awkwardly handled the toy. It was a struggle for me to get her to be more independent. She realised that she would need to insert this item herself. Well, there I was, I got sucked in into watching and coaching her in masturbation. Once she found the correct angle, the toy was inside her wet vagina.
“STOP. Freeze,” I waited for a very compromising position, to scare her. The toy was fully inserted and she applied pressure on in.
“What?” frightened Kate responded. I left her room before I could deliver her an answer.
I returned thirty-some fifteen seconds later. Kate remained frozen, in a very uncomfortable position, with the toy inside of her.
“Feet flat on the bed. Lift up your hips,” I instructed and Kate complied with my recommendations. With her hips in the air, I slipped a towel under her butt.
“This is going to get wet,” I smiled and applied pressure to her pubic mound to go down. I positioned my fingers such that I could gently rub her clitoris for her. I did a couple of strokes, attempting to expose the clitoral glans itself.
I encouraged her to restart. That moment I became her coach. I applied gentle pressure on her not to withdraw the toy. I coached her to keep up the speed, not to give up. I encouraged her to twist the toy, to try different strokes. I got her other hand to explore other parts of her.
I simply couldn’t resist it any longer. I decided to retract her clitoral hood for her. I encouraged her to keep on pumping, to keep going. I got her to stop and explained the concept of edging.
We restarted again. I encouraged her to keep her clitoral hood retracted. She claimed the need for urgent pee. The request was flatly denied. She was instructed to keep on pumping. I knew she was about to climax. She fired off a squirt, she screamed in ecstasy. Due to the toy being inside her, she fired at high pressure. Her fluids hit the wall of her room.
Her hands were shaking; mine were not. I took over the toy, giving her a few gentle strokes and finally pulling it out. I simply couldn’t resist: I used the towel to wipe her vagina for her. She was too much in a trance to care. I don’t think she ever squirted.
“Tension released,” I announced.
“Wow, thank-you,” Kate was still panting, “Why did you encourage me like that?”
“Well, sexual tension is something natural. It is something not to be ashamed of. It comes to everybody. It has to be released,” I answered her sitting on her bed watching her vagina lose its arousal.
I moved on to giving her the lecture as promised: “Now for the lecture. Luckily it was just me. If you are going to do stuff like that, lock your door. Take care of your security first.”
Confused Kate asked me: “So, you are not upset that I masturbate?”
“Of course not, sexual tension needs to be released. It is far better than intercourse,” I responded to her.
“Why did you come one hour early?” Kate asked the burning question.
“Daylight saving time, synchronise your watch.”
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