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A couple invent a game to save their marriage.

She met his gaze again, but said nothing.

The two of them sat there, staring across the desk at one another and Pete started to wonder if he really had the patience to win. Two more times they each pushed the envelop back towards the other and still neither of them said a word. After he'd pushed it back the second time he saw Ms. Masters reach for it and felt his heart pump rapidly in response. She opened it and very carefully and deliberately counted out five one hundred dollar bills. She placed the envelope back on the desk and undid two buttons. Her white blouse parted to reveal a portion of a white cotton bra; practical and simple. It still made Pete's dick twitch. She pushed the envelope back.

Peter took out his study notes and allowed her to commence, though initially he paid little attention to what was said. He was too busy thinking about what his next move might be.

"Concentrate," she said to him after a while when he'd failed to answer with the level of analysis that she expected.

He pushed the envelope across to her. "Take the blouse off and I will."

She laughed long and hard at that. "What on earth makes you think that you'll be able to concentrate if I take my blouse off?"

"Take it off and I'll prove it to you," he countered.

"And if you can't?"

"If I can't, you can leave, take the money and never tutor me again." That got her attention. He saw the hunger in her expression. It was clear that she wanted a way out, an end to having to do something that she didn't want to be part of. It hurt him a little, but he understood that he'd manipulated her and that it was never going result in friendship. He hoped that he would actually be able to concentrate. It sure as hell wouldn't be easy.

His breath caught as she reached out and pulled the envelope toward her. She picked it up and counted the money inside.

"Its short."


"You said two thousand but there's only fifteen hundred in here," she said flatly.

Pete bit back his protest and refused to look at the five hundred that she'd previously counted out onto the desk. Instead he stood up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He counted out three hundred then went through to his bedroom. He returned and placed another two hundred with the rest. If Ms. Masters was surprised at how ready to hand one of her high school students had an extra five hundred dollars, she gave no clue. Instead she stood and pulled the blouse from the hem of her skirt.

Pete really stared then. She released each button down the front of her blouse in turn. His eyes were glued to the simple, efficient movements and the bra that was being revealed beneath. It was a little disappointing when compared with Monday's black bra, but as she shrugged the blouse from her shoulders and allowed it to fall down to the back of the chair behind her, he fixed his gaze on it anyway. He studied the curve of the cup where it all but blended with her skin. He decided that she must have had it professionally fitted given how perfectly molded to her it was. There was no sign of the flesh spilling over the bra and each breast sat wonderfully within its cup's confines. Even before he'd had a decent chance to study her properly she launched into the session.

He expected her to pound him with information in an attempt to catch him out, but she had a different, possibly more challenging approach. Rather than give him too much, she spaced it out and gave him too much time to think and observe between bouts of information; ample time to get lost in the beauty of her cleavage. He desperately avoided looking too long at the curve of the bra and the swell of her breasts and focused on the information and instruction that she provided. He was determined to win.

Pete kept half an eye on the clock, seeing time tick away, the hand's staccato movement inching closer to the point where she would leave. He started flicking his gaze to her breasts more regularly, as he sought to inscribe the image in his mind.

When the time came Ms.

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