The Tutor Mom’s Dangerous Deal - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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Victoria Evans shot me an exasperated look, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they might stick. "Jesus, Sophia, relax. This is America, not the Victorian era. Stop being such a prude."
She leaned in, her manicured nails tapping against her wine glass. "Think about it—if you let your son keep jerking off to your panties, what's next? You? And even if it's not you, those random girls he'll eventually hook up with? God knows where they've been. At least I get tested every six months. Clean bill of health."
I chewed my lip, torn between her warped logic and the morals I'd clung to my whole life.
"I'll... think about it."
Not a yes. Not a no.
Victoria shrugged, scribbling her number on a cocktail napkin like she was signing an autograph. "Call me when you stop freaking out. Seriously, Sophia, it's just sex. Not the apocalypse."
She gave my shoulder a condescending pat before sauntering out, leaving me alone with my iced Americano. I took a sharp sip—too sharp. The bitter chill hit my throat like a punch, sending me into a coughing fit.
At home, her words looped in my head like a bad song.
When Ethan shuffled in after school, I couldn't even meet his eyes without imagining his hands on my lace. He caught me staring and froze like a deer in headlights.
"Mom, I—I didn't mean to last night. I'm... I'm sorry..."
His stammering confession hit me like a bucket of ice water.
He thought I knew.
About the lingerie.
I played dumb, watching him unravel. "What did you do last night?"
His face turned tomato-red. "N-nothing."
Lie.
He bolted to his room like the devil was on his heels.
That night, I heard his door creak open—then the soft click of the bathroom door. My pulse spiked. Was he at it again?
I sat rigid in bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes.
Fifteen later, he crept back.
I moved like a ghost to the bathroom, hands shaking as I dug through the hamper. No stains this time. Maybe just a piss break.
Then I saw it.
A single, coiled black hair, tangled in the lace like a snake.
My stomach dropped.
He'd done it again.
Rage burned through me. I nearly kicked his door down—then stopped. Humiliating him now would break him. Or worse, send him spiraling.
I stood there, fists clenched, until my nails bit half-moons into my palms. Then I walked away.
Back in my room, I grabbed my phone.
"Hello?" Victoria's voice was thick with sleep.
"I've made up my mind. When can you come?" My voice was cold, flat.
"Tomorrow. I'll be there."
I could hear the grin in her voice.
The call ended. I stared at my reflection in the dark window—a blurred shadow of a woman who'd just crossed a line she couldn't uncross.
This might be wrong.
But letting Ethan self-destruct was worse.
The next evening, Victoria waltzed in with a bottle of wine and a smirk.
"How the hell do we even start this?" I hissed. "I can't just say, 'Hey son, meet your new sex tutor.'"
She laughed, twisting the corkscrew into the bottle. "Easy. Cook something decent, introduce me as your friend, pour the wine. Hormones'll handle the rest."
She leaned in, her manicured nails tapping against her wine glass. "Think about it—if you let your son keep jerking off to your panties, what's next? You? And even if it's not you, those random girls he'll eventually hook up with? God knows where they've been. At least I get tested every six months. Clean bill of health."
I chewed my lip, torn between her warped logic and the morals I'd clung to my whole life.
"I'll... think about it."
Not a yes. Not a no.
Victoria shrugged, scribbling her number on a cocktail napkin like she was signing an autograph. "Call me when you stop freaking out. Seriously, Sophia, it's just sex. Not the apocalypse."
She gave my shoulder a condescending pat before sauntering out, leaving me alone with my iced Americano. I took a sharp sip—too sharp. The bitter chill hit my throat like a punch, sending me into a coughing fit.
At home, her words looped in my head like a bad song.
When Ethan shuffled in after school, I couldn't even meet his eyes without imagining his hands on my lace. He caught me staring and froze like a deer in headlights.
"Mom, I—I didn't mean to last night. I'm... I'm sorry..."
His stammering confession hit me like a bucket of ice water.
He thought I knew.
About the lingerie.
I played dumb, watching him unravel. "What did you do last night?"
His face turned tomato-red. "N-nothing."
Lie.
He bolted to his room like the devil was on his heels.
That night, I heard his door creak open—then the soft click of the bathroom door. My pulse spiked. Was he at it again?
I sat rigid in bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes.
Fifteen later, he crept back.
I moved like a ghost to the bathroom, hands shaking as I dug through the hamper. No stains this time. Maybe just a piss break.
Then I saw it.
A single, coiled black hair, tangled in the lace like a snake.
My stomach dropped.
He'd done it again.
Rage burned through me. I nearly kicked his door down—then stopped. Humiliating him now would break him. Or worse, send him spiraling.
I stood there, fists clenched, until my nails bit half-moons into my palms. Then I walked away.
Back in my room, I grabbed my phone.
"Hello?" Victoria's voice was thick with sleep.
"I've made up my mind. When can you come?" My voice was cold, flat.
"Tomorrow. I'll be there."
I could hear the grin in her voice.
The call ended. I stared at my reflection in the dark window—a blurred shadow of a woman who'd just crossed a line she couldn't uncross.
This might be wrong.
But letting Ethan self-destruct was worse.
The next evening, Victoria waltzed in with a bottle of wine and a smirk.
"How the hell do we even start this?" I hissed. "I can't just say, 'Hey son, meet your new sex tutor.'"
She laughed, twisting the corkscrew into the bottle. "Easy. Cook something decent, introduce me as your friend, pour the wine. Hormones'll handle the rest."
End of The Tutor Mom’s Dangerous Deal Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to The Tutor Mom’s Dangerous Deal book page.