Revenge of the Retired Tutor

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Revenge of Retired Tutor.jpg
By KP Wee

Book Details

Book Description

Marcel Donnels was already retired. Or so he thought. However, when a gorgeous young woman showed up abruptly at his house wanting him to tutor her, he couldn't resist. After all, he was lonely and didn't mind having a little female companionship. Besides, she kissed him and he really liked it too.

The relationship did end up being romantic, but would she eventually become tired of Marcel? He was, after all, twenty years older than her... How would Marcel get revenge when he found out she was cheating on him?

Excerpt

The strong fruity fragrance of her perfume made me aroused. What was a gorgeous babe like her doing in my house?

“Hello, Mr. Marshall Donnel,” she said, giving me a cute smile.

She’d mispronounced my name. It was Marcel Donnels, not Marshall Donnel. But I didn’t correct her. Obviously she was looking for me indeed, for a private tutor. Her English skills obviously needed sharpening, and she’d come to seek me out.

I was totally caught off guard. Never before had any potential student come to my house unannounced. They’d always called me up on the phone and then I’d laugh at them and reject them. And never before had a female student express interest in my tutoring services.

I stared at her from head to toe. She was a gorgeous one, for sure, and that irresistible fragrance was making me drool. But I didn’t say anything stupid. Just in case she was a decoy hired by the damn taxman. And that wouldn’t be a total shock. I’d watched enough television dramas and movies to know that cops and the government did indeed trap people like me. Send in a pretty little thing to trick an unsuspecting soul, and the next thing you knew, you were going to prison for paying for a prostitute or having sex with a minor, or in this case, committing fraud for having a phony business.

“Yes, I’m Marcel Donnels. What can I do for you?” I said to the seductive woman. My eyes were focused on her breasts, longing to rip that black outfit off her and suck on them. If she was a legitimate student, I was definitely going to take her on and be her tutor, for sure.

She seemed to notice my eyeballs staring at her breasts, so I quickly looked at her waist instead. “That’s an adorable outfit you have there,” I said quietly, pointing to the cute little bow at her waist.

The young woman smiled, and said, “Thank you.”

I shrugged. I never understand why people always said “thank you” when I complimented them on their clothing. I was usually just making conversation with that comment; it wasn’t like I’d invented or sewn together their outfit. Geez. Why thank me?

“I want hire tutor,” she said in her broken English. “Your front door open, so I just come in. Anyway, I want hire tutor. I see your name in phone book.” She continued smiling at me.

Shoot. I couldn’t remember what exactly I’d put on the Yellow Pages ad. What did I specialize in again? Was it grammar or writing? Or speaking and pronunciation? I didn’t even have any of the brochures left in my house. After I had them printed up, I might have just thrown them away in a dumpster somewhere. I needed just to show the taxman—with the receipt for having the brochures printed out—I was seriously trying to make some kind of a profit in this tutoring business.

“Well, uh,” I said, “I do specialize in English. I tutor English to people needing English. I mean, I am the English expert.”

That sounded ridiculous, but hey, would she know any better?

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