[Chapter -1] - The Perks of Being A Doormat teacher R18+

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Chapter 1

I've always been a little bit of a doormat. I just have trouble saying no to people, especially when they tell me they need my help, and if they're girls, too, forget about it. I practically can't refuse a girl in need. Most people would assume that I do it in the hopes of sex, but it's not really about that. The age or beauty of the girl doesn't matter, very much, nor my prospective chances, it's just that I want to help. It's like I'm biologically hardwired not to be able to say no when a girl says the magic words, "Please."

For most of my life, this has caused me nothing but grief. All through school I'd "help" girls with their homework, doing most of it myself, or even allow them to copy off me. I've helped countless girls move, or given them rides from one place to another, even to dates with their boyfriends. I've loaned money without any expectation of getting it back, or of getting anything other than a thank you or maybe a hug in return. I'm a pushover, I know.

But there was that one time where not being able to say no when I wanted to made all the rest of my life as a doormat worth it and changed my world forever.

I was just out of college, and had my own place, a small apartment, and a new job. It was a pretty good job, writing program documentation for a software company. I could work from home and they didn't care what hours I set so long as I didn't miss a deadline. I was a little lonely, having no co-workers I met on a regular basis. There were a few friends from school I saw from time to time, but much of my social life was still seeing my family.

I lived with my parents through college, and after I graduated I didn't move far, only about a 10 minute drive away. I still saw them regularly; after all, I had to do my laundry. I'd also usually have at least one meal a week over there. My parents went to Church on Sunday, and afterwards they had a big meal, something hearty like a roast. Often, they invited friends from Church over to eat with them, and I got to know a few of them over the years.

One Sunday, they invited a woman named Grace, who'd been there many times before. I'd done favors for her too, usually typing something up that she wrote freehand. She was Asian, although spoke with only a very slight accent, having been in the US for something like 30 or 40 years. She was one of those people I didn't mind doing the occasional favor for. She was always outwardly very friendly, and even gave me Christmas presents every year. They were small things, but it was the thought that counted.

This time, Grace had some of her kids with her, two girls. They were technically her grandkids, but she raised them as her own since they were babies and they even called her Mom. She also lived with a teenage son who was with friends, and another grown son who now lived in another state... I'd met all of them at some point over the years (except the wayward daughter, mother of the two girls), but didn't get to know any of them very well.

The two with Grace that day were Stephanie, age fourteen, and her little sister Bonnie, age eleven. They were cute. Both were mixed-race, by the same father, and resembled each other a lot. Their Asian features were diluted, and except for shape of their eyes, they looked closer to Latina than Asian. But they had nice black hair, just a hint of shade to the skin, and sweet smiles although both wore braces. Stephanie had her very straight hair long, tied up in a ponytail, and was wearing a nice blouse for church that showed her developing breasts. Bonnie had shorter hair, a little curlier, down to just above her shoulders. She wore more childish attire, a pink t-shirt like top and pants.

Since I was out of their age range, I tried my best not to look at either of them, even though I was attracted. Mostly I just adopted my classic social eating pose, watching my plate and only paying cursory attention to the topics, answering only when spoken to directly. Sometimes, when they got into a topic like religion, I zoned out and lost track of the conversation entirely.

It was at one of those times staring down at a slice of gravy soaked beef and wondering about what kind of underwear Stephanie might be wearing, when I became aware of a sudden lull in the conversation and realized I'd been asked a question. "I'm sorry?" I asked. "I must have been thinking of something else."

"I said you must be really good at math, for computers," Grace said.

"Yeah," I said. "There's a lot of math required. But it's required for a lot of fields, not just computers."

Grace waved her fork in the direction of Stephanie. "She used to be so good at school, but lately, I don't know, something happened, she's been doing poorly."

I glanced at Stephanie, who was also now staring down at her plate, looking mortified. "Mom," she complained weakly.

"I'm sorry, but you need to fix this and work hard and get your grades up. You failed your last test! You used to be really good at math, and I don't know if you're distracted by all your friends, or…"

"It's just harder now," she said.

"Well it's not getting any easier. And this is important. Isn't it, Tim?"

I felt a little uncomfortable about being drawn into the conversation, even on the fringes. "Yeah, education is pretty important," I got out.

"That's right," Grace said. "So we need to nip this problem in the bud before it gets worse. If you're having trouble, you can get help. We've got a math expert right here." She looked at me pointedly.

"I don't know if I'd say expert…" I said, not liking where this was going.

"Compared to all of us here you are," she said. "Have you ever tutored anyone before?"

"No," I said honestly. "I don't even think I'd know how."

"Ha-ha, you need a tutor," Bonnie teased her sister.

"I don't need a tutor," Stephanie said.

Grace ignored them both. "I'm sure it's simple. You already know the math, you can just help her with her homework and the problems she's having learning. I certainly don't understand all of it."

"I don't think I'd be the best choice…" I said. That was the closest I usually came to refusal. I never outright said no, I just pointed out the reasons it was a bad idea, or other options that would be better. "I'm sure a professional tutor would be better."

"I don't think I can afford a professional. They charge an arm and a leg and I barely make ends meet. I can pay you a little. It would only be a couple times a week after school. You said you choose your own hours at your work, don't you?"

"Yeah," I said. "But I do have to stay close to home sometimes if I'm on call for an emergency." This was an outright lie, there are no software documentation emergencies, I just didn't like the idea of going over to her place a few times a week to tutor her kid.

"You could do it at your place," she said. "You live on the way to her school anyway." Grace had been present several times when my parents gave me a ride home on the way somewhere else. I tried to think of another objection I could use, when she said the magic words. "Please, Tim? I could really use your help on this. Her whole future could depend on just a little helping hand."

"I guess I could give it a shot," I said finally. "But I can't promise anything, I've never taught anybody anything before."

Grace smiled. "That's all I ask. Good! Thank you. God will bless you for this. We'll choose a day that's good for you. Right after school."

The conversation moved on. I caught Stephanie giving me a look out of the corner of her eye; I thought maybe she was angry at my agreeing. I gave her a helpless little shrug

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