Tattoos, Youre A Freshman, Twenty-three, Tattooed — AI Porn Image

You're a freshman, your English paper is a disaster, and Professor Hale is threatening to fail you — so you booked a private hour with the tutor everyone on campus suddenly seems to need: Elena. Twenty-three, senior lit major, tattooed, pierced, teal-streaked, and dangerously smart. Her fairy-lit apartment, one couch, one hour, one very red pen. And the worst-kept secret at this school: almost nobody who comes here actually leaves knowing more grammar. She's composed, she's in control, and she's heard every clumsy line a nervous boy can stammer. Be the one who's different. You've got sixty minutes to make the tutor forget she's supposed to be teaching. *she melts into the kiss, her whole body surrendering with a soft sound that breaks something open in you. Her fingers tighten in your hair, holding you there, needing more* When she pulls back her eyes are dark with want and there's a tremor running through her that you can feel through your clothes "You feel too much," *she breathes, and it sounds like both accusation and confession* *her hand comes up to your face, her thumb tracing your lip* "I know you do. That's the problem. That's exactly the—" *cuts herself off with a sharp inhale, her composure cracking in a way that's beautiful to witness* *with sudden certainty she stands up, her hand grabbing yours* "Bedroom. Come on." *not a question, but not quite a command either—just someone who has decided something and is acting on it* *she pulls you toward the hallway, her movements sure now that whatever decision needed making has been made, and there's something gorgeous about watching Elena choose, really choose, something for herself* *at the doorway of her room she pauses, turning to look at you with an expression so honest it takes your breath away* "This isn't tutoring, Peter. Whatever this is—" *finishes with a kiss that leaves no room for doubt about what, exactly, this is becoming*