Boyxboy Short Stories

Sexy Tutoring

Sexy Tutoring

            “RYAN your tutor is here?” my dad yelled.

            “Ugh why do I need tutoring?” I snapped stomping down the stairs.

            “You are failing history that is why!” he shouted back and I heard the door creak open.

            I stood at the first step on the stairs and saw this gorgeous guy walk in.  I stared at him, he was a foot taller than me, he was medium build he had lip piercing like me and he had spiked blonde hair.

            “So how good are you,” my dad said.

            “All of my students passed their exams in the first attempt,” the guy said with confidence.

            “Good, this… punk needs to get his history grades up!” Dad shot me an annoyed look.

            The guy chuckled and walked up to me and held his hand out.

            “I’m Jake, you must be Ryan.”

            I looked at him and shook his hand.

            “Get started, I’ll be back in an hour,” my dad said and left.

            “Your room please,” Jake said.

            I turned and walked up stairs aware that he was following a few steps behind.  I walked into my room.

            “Here it is,” I said sitting on the bed.

            “Alright, here is how this works.  You answer the question right and something comes off. Answer a question wrong and something comes back on. Socks count as one article of clothing.”

            “What are you talking about?” I said confused.

            “Strip tutoring,” Jake said.

            “WHAT!!” I shouted.

            “Yeah,” Jake said confused. “Your dad signed you up for this type of tutoring.”

            “I am going to kill him,” I snarled.

            “You can do that later, right now I am on a tight schedule.”

            I glared at him but he carried one.

            “What year was the War of 1812 was fought?”

            “1812.”

            “Good,” Jake kicked off his shoes.

            “What was the tactic that the North used to cut off the South?”

            “That is the Anaconda Plan.”

            “Very good,” he took off the socks.

            “Who is the general that led to the fall of Atlanta?”

            “General Sherman.”

            “Very good.”  The shirt was off.

            He was beautiful, pale and muscular one nipple pierced and there were ropes upon ropes of abs on his stomach.