0 comments/ 42056 views/ 0 favorites Making the Grade By: Taylor Brown I love Tuesday mornings because I am so in lust with you. My desire gets stronger every time I see you. I love to watch the way you move and to hear the sound of your voice as it rises and falls in your intense yet mellow manner. I love being close to you, to smell your clean scent. I love your beautiful shoulders and the grace and strength of your hands. My fingers ache to touch your hair, to brush it back off your forehead and comb through it. But most of all I love your face and getting lost in the soothing calm of your gaze and the beautiful hue of your eyes. I adore the impish charm of your smile and oh, how I want your mouth! I dream of what it would be like to kiss you, to feel the charge of energy, the shock of you pressing your lips to mine. To be able to release the bottled up passion I feel for you... To be in your embrace - the comfortable grip of your arms around me and to be able wrap to my arms around you. To press my body against yours and feel the evidence of your desire as you push your hard cock against me. A burst of longing blazes upward through me as I imagine how you would open my mouth with your tongue and I would meet yours with mine. You thrust your tongue deeper into my mouth - challenging, demanding, conquering. I start sucking and you try to withdraw but I keep you deep in my mouth - making you mine, wanting you to be part of me. I release you and give you my tongue to suck on - submitting, melding, being yours. You want more, so while you are still kissing me you unbutton my shirt, slipping it off my shoulders. You move your lips to my neck as you unhook my bra and drop it to the floor. You pull back slightly and look into my eyes as you undo my ponytail. You smile as my hair cascades down around my hips. At your gentle urging I turn around and you bury your face in my hair as you nuzzle my neck. Your hands cup my breasts and you pull me back against your chest as you leave a trail of kisses on my shoulders. I take your hands and slide them to my crotch - I suck in my breath when your finger tips find my clit. You grasp my mound in both hands and pull my butt against your cock. You moan as you grind against me. Impatiently you undo my pants and slide them off my hips. I turn as I step out of them. While I unbutton your shirt you slide your fingers over the triangle of silky fabric that covers my ass. You release me so I can slide your shirt off your shoulders and down your arms. Once your hands are free you put them on my face and pull me towards you. For a brief moment before our lips touch, I drown in the intensity of the passion and desire so evident in your eyes and waves of longing wash through me. Your mouth is not enough! I want more of you! I pull back, fumbling to unbutton your pants. As they fall around your feet, you groan because my hands have reached your crotch and are caressing your balls. Oh God, I love the velvety spot between them! To cradle them in my hands and run my finger tips across it. I look up at you and smile - you grab my head and pull my mouth to yours - pressing against me, trapping your cock between us. I rub against you, loving the feel of the sensitive head of your cock pushing on my stomach - the faint hint of moisture lubricating my skin so I can slide gently back and forth. We both sigh as our tongues collide, fighting, dueling to take up a position in the other's mouth. Our bodies press even more tightly together, wanting, needing to get even closer. Your tongue wins and you push it as far as you can reach into my mouth and I suck on it trying to pull you even deeper. But again your tongue just isn't enough! I break free and your eyes fly open and you look at me questioningly. I smile and, still pressing against you, I slowly bend my knees and the tip of your cock leaves a trail of wetness up my belly and into the valley between my tits. I lean back just enough to give you one more quick smile and then with a sigh of anticipation I take you into my mouth. As the sensations - the wet heat, the engulfing closeness, the pressure of the full length of my tongue - sweep through you, you cry out, curl your fingers in my hair and pull me even closer. The head of your cock reaches the back of my throat and I moan, loving the feel of you filling my mouth. Using your grip on my hair you pull me back, watching your shaft slowly reappear as you overcome the pull of the suction my mouth is creating. You withdraw but I keep the tip of my tongue pressed against the sensitive spot just under the head of your cock and I look up at you, reveling in the passion glazed look in you eyes. A sweet/salty taste fills my mouth as drops of pre-cum flow over my tongue. A near painful jolt clenches your belly as you watch my lips cover just the head of your cock, my tongue still teasing, caressing and loving the tender flesh below it. A heavy pressure is building but for you it's too soon - too much - you want to savor the sweet sensations so you try to pull back, but I don't want to let you. I pull you into my mouth, demanding that you give in to the need I'm creating. You relent and start thrusting and withdrawing. You move in and out of the hot, wet grip of my mouth, the overwhelming pressure of my tongue and the encircling grip of my lips. I love the feel of you sliding in and out and hitting the back of my throat with each pounding thrust. You can't stop now, the need is too strong. I want it too much! Driving yourself into me, the pressure builds and then an intense pulsing pleasure grips you. With one final, deep thrust and you pour your cum into my throat, drowning me with each white hot spurt, filling me as I swallow the flood, sucking you dry, wanting every last droplet. I want to linger and savor the taste and feel of you, but you pull me up and cover my lips with yours, driving your tongue into the still salty depths of my mouth. Strange metallic scraping sounds and paper rustling impinge on my brain. No! I want your lips against mine! Voices assail my ears and I try to shut them out, but they get louder and I lose my grip on you. Don't go! My eyes fly open and the sights and sounds of the classroom return with a vengeance. I gasp and look at the paper on the desk in front of me - blank! Another lecture period lost to dreams of you. But there you are, speaking to a student. Oblivious to the passionate encounter we just shared you smile as our eyes meet briefly and I realize that a tutorial session is just what I need to get caught up on the material I've missed. Making The Grade Sitting at her desk in the back row of her Advanced Calculus class, Hilary is hiding behind her text book and a bottle of Iced Tea nail polish. This is the most boring class she has ever had to sleep through. When will she ever need calculus to get her through a psychology exam. She has wanted to be a psychiatrist for five years and finally, in six months, high school would be over and she would be off to college. Of course, she would have to give up cheerleading and tennis practice. It was a small price to pay to be on her own. University. No more curfews or chores, and no more pathetic high school boys trying to get a feel up her panties every Friday night. She was saving that special moment for a college guy who knew how to do it right! The bell rings. She only has twenty minutes to get changed and get down to the field. She was late yesterday and her coach threw a royal fit. "Just a moment, Miss Jennings. I'd like to have a word with you." "Mr. Fox, I'm late for practice," she called to her teacher. "I'm afraid it will have to wait, how long is up to you...you're aware that your performance in this class has not been up to par. Especially for the grade you will need to pass your entrance exams." "I really need to get down to the field. Couldn't we talk about this tomorrow?" "I'll make you a deal Hilary...go to practice and be back here in this classroom no later that five o'clock and we'll see if we can figure out a way to bring that grade up." "Thanks Mr. Fox...you're a doll. Be back at five." Practice was grueling today, Coach Burns never shut up about the competition at state next month. "Shit!" "What's the matter, Hil..." "Damn it, I'm late for a meeting...I'll talk to you tomorrow, gotta run." Panting and perspiring, Hilary knocks on Mr. Fox's door with thirty seconds to spare. "Come in Miss Jennings." "I'm sorry. Practice ran late today." "No problem. Take a seat. Didn't have time to change, I see." "No, I'm a little sweaty, I didn't have time to shower first." "Don't worry about that. Let's just get down to business. I am sorry to say that there is virtually no way for you to improve your grade in the six months we have left together." "What am I going to do? You said we'd try and figure out a way to pass me." "And we will. I've already thought of one way...but before I tell you, I'd like you to take the elastic out of your hair. You have the most beautiful strawberry hair I've ever seen." "Mr. Fox..." "Miss Jennings, trust me when I say that I am not kidding. You will fail this course. You will not be accepted into any college. What will your parents think? Now tell me...is it all really worth it? One favor in exchange for another. Let's both be adults about this." "Mr. Fox...I can't do what I think you're asking for..." "At this point, Hilary, you have no choice. Now, let's see you take out the elastic." Hilary looks around to realize that the shade has been pulled on the door to the room. It's after five o'clock. Everyone has gone home. How could she have been so stupid. She should have seen this coming a mile away. But Mr. Fox is right. She'll never pass the exam if she doesn't get this class. She pulls the red elastic from her hair, even though she has never been more scared in her life. "That's so much better. Come over here beside me...let me smell it." He roughly takes a fistful of Hilary's hair and raises it to his nose. Hilary can't hide a shiver that runs down her spine. It was bad enough to be pawed by her boyfriend, but to have this forty-five year old man running his fingers through her hair and up her back was making her sick. Mr. Fox wasn't all that bad looking but he was creepy just the same. He had really weird eyes and he was almost bald. In a fluid gesture, he rises from his chair and lifts Hilary up and sets her to rest atop his spotless desk. "Now let's see what you've got under here..." he says as he pops the top button of her work-out shirt. "Please, no, don't touch me...Oh God no..." He wastes no time undoing the rest and completely removing her shirt. His breath is hot on her shoulder. He's breathing so hard, Hilary thinks he might pass out. No such luck today. His eyes are glued to her nipples poking out through her bra. "You have perfect, small breasts...I can't wait to see how they taste, Miss Jennings. Take off the bra, I want to see you do it." With shaking hands and clammy fingers, Hilary reaches around and unsnaps the clasp. She pulls the straps down slowly so she can hide her breasts for as long as she is allowed. "Now don't be shy. We've known each other all year. Let me have a look at those pretty tits." She brings her arms down to her sides and looks away. She has to think of something besides what is about to happen to her here. A hand reaches out and brings Hilary out of her reverie. A quick, rough pinch of her left nipples makes her squeal. This can't be happening. Why is she letting this happen to herself? He takes a stiff nipple into his wet mouth and sucks hungrily on it while he kneads the other with his calloused hand. He then pulls away and looks into Hilary's eyes. "Have you ever has your pussy sucked, young lady?" "No, Mr. fox...please don't. Please, I'll stay after class every day..." "Oh, and you will Miss Jennings...we are only just starting to become friends," he says as his hand moves slowly down to her crotch. "Mr. Fox, no! I can't do this! You can't do this!" "I can, and I am...so shut the fuck up! This can be nice and fun or it can be painful and unpleasant, your choice." Moving his hand up inside her shorts, he uses the other to undo his belt strap. "Take it out for me." "What?" "I said, 'Take my cock out for me'. Wrap your tiny, little fist around it and pull it out of my pants." "I've never...I mean...I can't do this!" Mr. Fox angrily grabbed hold of Hilary's small breast and squeezed it hard. He twisted the nipple once before he leaned over and bit it. "Undo the fucking zipper and take out my cock!" With a shaking hand, Hilary bent down and slid open the zipper. Mr. Fox was not wearing anything under his jeans and Hilary immediately saw a thick patch of black pubic hair. She thought she would throw up, but she reached inside and gently lifted his dick out over the opening of his pants, then let it hang there as she took her hand away. "Oh baby girl...you're gonna love the lesson I have for you this afternoon..." She had never seen a real cock up close before but she knew that this one was big, and only bound to get bigger since it was not yet erect. There was no way that thing was going inside her virgin pussy. "I need to see that tight snatch of yours. I can smell it already through your jeans." With that, he took her shorts in both hands and ripped them open at the zipper. He then wasted no time in pulling them down her legs and off, over her tennis shoes. Hilary had worn her thong panties today because they didn't ride up her ass when she was working out. Mr. Fox pulled tightly on the thong's string, causing it to tear into her ass and pussy lips. "Aaaaagh!" "I love to hear you scream like that, sweet thing...tells me you're enjoying this!" With another harsh tug on the thong, it snapped and Mr. Fox pulled it off with one hand. Since Hilary spent a lot of time in the sun, wearing only a bikini or short shorts, she kept her pubic area trimmed very short. If Mr. Fox didn't know any better, he would guess that she had only begun puberty. He leaned in between her legs and inhaled a lungful of her sweet musk. With the thumb of each hand he gently spread her bald, pink lips. He kissed the small patch of hair just above her clit then sent his tongue to work, exploring the inner folds of her perfect, teenage cunt. Slowly at first, he had to savour her youthful flavour. Up and back, he moved his lizard-like tongue, across her clit and then deep into Hilary's sweet hole. Hilary let her mind wander again...she could not bear to think of, let alone watch, what was happening to her below her waist. A knock at he door stopped them both cold. Hilary stifled a scream, in fear of being caught in this compromising and humiliating position. For some strange reason, Mr. fox didn't look at all worried about being caught like this, with his big head stuffed between Hilary's shaking legs. There was a key in the door. The latch clicking...oh God, someone was coming in. What was she going to say? "Come on in Eddie...party's just getting started. I'm just warming her up..." It was Eddie, the janitor! He was maybe forty, tall, thin, and very greasy. He looked like a mafia hit-man from the movies. Jesus, he knew what was going on in here and he's here to share me, Hilary thought as sirens went off inside her head. "NO! NO! NO! You can't! No! Please! Mr. Fox...stop! Don't let him touch me, please. Let me go! "Hilary, you're being very rude. Eddie is very good at this. We've been tag-team partners for ten years, I should know." Eddie walked over and grabbed Hilary by the hair and slammed her head back down onto the desk. "Keep doing what you were doing Barry, I'll shut her up," Eddie smiled. Before the words were even out of his mouth, Eddie had unbuttoned his coveralls and had taken a hold of his massive organ. He then slapped it across Hilary's face a couple times before stuffing it into her screaming mouth. "You bite me, bitch and it'll be the last time you do anything!" Hilary had only heard about blowjobs and she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing, although she was sure that choking wasn't the right thing. Trying to suppress her gag reflex, she opened up her throat and tried to take as much as she could, while Eddie kept hammering into her, without throwing up. Tears had begun to flow down her face. She was being humiliated...she was so exposed to these awful men and there was no one who was coming to help her. Suddenly, a terrible pain ripped through her body. Mr. Fox had driven two fingers inside her while his tongue continued to lap at her pussy. The thrashing at her face and crotch continued like this for what seemed like hours until Mr. Fox stood and ordered Eddie to switch places with him. Hilary stole a deep breath of air before she was inevitably forced to suck another cock. Her lips hurt and she was sure they were bleeding from too much contact with her teeth. She prepared herself for another wet tongue invading her most private parts as Mr. Fox rubbed his now-stiff dick across her sore lips. What she hadn't prepared for was Eddie ramming his 10 inch rod into her in one swift motion, breaking through her hymen and sending pain and a wave of complete panic and fear through her. "NOoooooo!" "Oh Yes! Fuckin' Yes! Tight, young, hot cunt! So fucking tight, I could almost cum right now...," Eddie wailed as he pulled out and plowed Hilary again, while she lay there in shock and disbelief. This is how she was losing her precious virginity...to the school janitor across a slab of fake oak in the math room, while her teacher plugged her throat with his cock. It would only get worse... Pumping his huge dick in and out, Eddie took hold of Hilary's legs and raised them up to his shoulders. He loved the view this way. He loved to watch the lips around a young girl's hole stretch and suck him inside her. He loved to lick his finger and rub it across her tiny clit, knowing that although the girl wasn't consenting, she was still secretly happy to have him fucking her. He knew that, because their unused muscles would contract and pull him deeper, they would get wetter and wetter, so ready to take more of him. While Eddie fucked, Mr. Fox stood over Hilary's head and bucked his dick into her heart-shaped mouth while he pinched and pulled her pretty nipples. Hilary could only lay there. If this were any other situation, this might feel kind of nice...but it didn't. This was too rough. She never thought it would be like this. Her pussy was swelling and she was having feelings that she never felt before. She was tingling and shivering, not from cold; she thought it had to be from her body's excitement. Her own body was betraying her. She did not want to enjoy this. She did, however, want this to be as quick as possible, so she didn't protest. She just let it all happen, deciding that when it was over, she would never have to think of it again. No one would ever have to know. Without warning, Eddie and Mr. Fox both pulled out of Hilary. Eddie grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to her feet. Was it over? Then Eddie lay down atop the desk, where she had just been laying. His cock stood at full attention. He stroked it a couple times then he took out some kind of gel and squeezed it onto the tip. He began to rub it all over his thick cock. "Hop on Hilary," Mr. Fox ordered, while he too stroked his own shaft. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice quivering. "Climb up on the desk and straddle Eddie's dick. I suggest you hurry or you'll have to suck us both to erection again. Oh, and turn this way to face me." Hilary did as she was told, she climbed on the desk and put a leg over Eddie's body. She knew what was expected, so she automatically lowered her pussy onto his waiting pole. "Not that hole, I'm afraid, Miss Jennings...I think you know what I mean. I don't want any argument or this will be most unpleasant for you." Mr. Fox was telling her that Eddie was going to put that huge monster in her ass. This couldn't be happening. "Mr. Fox....pleeeeeese...," she began to cry. "SIT!" Eddie took charged and grabbed a hold of Hilary's small ass. With one hand, he positioned his rod at the opening of her back passage and slowly lowered her down. "Oh God! Oh Fuck No! It hurts so much...!" "Take it all, sweet girl, take it all deep inside you." Mr Fox was so fascinated with watching Eddie rip through Hilary's hole that he almost forgot about his growing need. He jacked himself a few times then bent over the table and thrust his tongue up inside her again, moving it faster across her clit this time. Hilary couldn't stifle a moan as the electricity travelled up her body. Her ass was not stinging anymore and the pussy licking felt almost good to her. Then she remembered where she was and who she was with. At least they have done the worst to her. What could be worse than an ass-fucking. She then found out, as Mr. Fox pushed her back onto Eddie's stomach. Eddie grabbed a tit in each hand and began to squeeze while Mr. Fox climbed on top of her and positioned himself at her other opening. Eddie's cock took up so much room inside her ass that Mr. Fox had a hard time pushing inside her. When he finally entered her bruised cunt, Hilary groaned and heaved. She was so full of cock. She had never imagined that anything like this happened to people. Now it was happening to her! Both men drove into her with a steady rhythm, Eddie pinching one breast while Mr. Fox sucked hard on the other. "Fuck that virgin ass!! Fill that virgin ass with cum, Eddie!" "Tell me when you're ready, Barry...we'll fill her up in both holes at the same time. Come on, man, I'm almost there...oh Fuck, this shit-hole is tight! I'm losing it, man!" "Let it go Eddie, I'm coming too!" screamed Mr. Fox. Pounding furiously into ass and pussy, both men exploded inside Hilary's abused body. Mr. fox climbed off first, then Eddie pushed Hilary to the side and stepped off the desk. Her shaking form lay there, naked, sore, used and utterly mortified. Mr. Fox slapped her bruised ass after he had finished dressing and said to her, "My house, tomorrow...five o'clock." Through Eddie's laughter, she heard her teacher say..."And I wouldn't mention this...our sessions are all being taped. Don't be late again tomorrow, Miss Jennings, I have something special planned." continued... Making The Grade A Fantasy: When The Young Coed Needs This Instructor's Help I can't help but notice the blazing blonde hair flowing halfway down her back, surrounding a face which initially confuses me. While she can give off the "I'm-so-fucking-bitching" attitude, I shortly assess she's actually a semi-innocent, cute, naive, and childlike -- yet knowingly flirtatious -- young woman, caring more about having fun in the moment than anything else. Sitting in the front row ("Obviously a learning strategy she's picked up somewhere," I silently surmise, smiling to myself), her striking features and two-piece outfit scream for my attention. She's dressed perfectly for the warm autumn days at the beginning of the school year. The bottom of the thigh-length black floral print skirt flutters innocently in the ever-so-slight breeze passing through the room, but when she spins to take part in the ice-breaker I've planned, I notice how the top wraps tightly around her flawless waist around stays snug until where it just passes the point where her perfectly-defined buttcheeks take form. My subtle (yet well-trained) observation skills notice the slight rise of the intended-to-be-invisible top flare of her thong under that silken wrap surrounding her ass. "Hmmm," I think to myself, "lovely accentuation brought out by a comfortable -- and lovely -- skirt." As well, I notice the match: what looks like one of Daddy's lightweight white Oxford dress shirts. She has tied it off up just under her rack. And what a pair of gorgeous tits: They're tight, firm, and just a little larger than what might be expected on a girl her size. The only button she'd bothered to fasten was the unique gold-covered change Daddy must have made: the Playboy bunny emblem. Consequently, because the shirt is a tad too big, she affords me an amazing view of her right breast. When she turns, the consequence of not-yet removing all the starch causes the left side to lap open slightly, providing an unobstructed view of her nibble ring and a rush of blood to my easily engorged cock. By reading and following up on her "beginning of the year" questionnaire, I discover that not only is she on the spirit squad; she's also one of the premier individual dancers in the state. Within days I learn that, in dance, she regularly wins competitions, showcasing her choreographic talent -- and her crushing tendency to unknowingly incite the distracted judges (both men and women) to lust after her. As the semester progresses, I find I (almost) unknowingly schedule any needed walk through campus at the same times as her practice. Her perfectly trained ass gyrates to the sounds of the music which carries her into erotic ecstasy -- at least in my mind. But it's in class where her magic continues to capture my imagination and fuel the fantasy. It is a game day just like any other, and she's there in that short skirt which easily gives way to her tight, pussy-outlining panties. It's as if she forgets she's wearing something so short, and lets herself spread those luscious powerful legs just a little too far. It's then I can barely contain the blood rushing to my member. Needless to say, this makes it difficult to conduct class, as she slides her ass toward the front of the chair, oblivious that she's giving me a peep show up her skirt. I find it hard to focus on the aesthetic consequences of Reductionism. My brain tries, but slips and stumbles. Ohh, that trimmed young beaver, barely covered by her panties. I know all it would take: The class session ends, the other students file out considering the profound implications of what I'd presented that morning. Consequently, they're oblivious that she's remaining, overwhelmed. Their departure gives me the change-of-pace I need as I put away my notes, seeing the blur of faces exit the room. At first, even I don't notice her still sitting exactly where and how she had been less than a minute prior, but it doesn't take long. I look up and see what I think is that look I've seen in the eyes of multiple struggling coeds like her before. But I'm wrong, and we are alone -- with nobody needing the room for over an hour. Tucked behind those those seemingly sad liquid blue eyes is a question. She looks at the floor, or so it seems. "Professor, you... well... you know my grade in this class isn't so good, and well... I really need a good grade in here, and I'll do ANYTHING to raise it." She slightly tilts her head, raises the corners of her mouth almost indiscernably and slowly works her eyes up my form to meet my eyes. Her smile nervously widens just a bit, and she works her eyes down my body, stopping at my crotch. "Anything," she repeats, and slowly opens her mouth. She pushes her tongue forward, stroking her upper lip and teeth, then runs it slowly around her lips. She is still sitting in the same desk, and she slides forward even further, the seat bottom’s friction holding her barely-covering skirt, which causes her tender crotch to move forward freely. To offset this movement, she arches her back, pushing her melons to the sky. I waste no time thinking; the next position I know is my engorged, clothing-caged cock thrusting forward and my face buried between those milky white, beautifully conditioned inner thighs. It takes just a few seconds, and her panties' crotch becomes a rich, musky mixture of my saliva and her tender young womanhood. I nearly gasp in disbelief as my hands reach to grasp her rock-hard, panty-covered ass and find no material -- except the thin line running up her crack. My testicles quiver in pure desire to unleash the cum they’re just barely holding back. Her head tilts back, letting that brilliant blonde hair fall back behind her. Her hands move in two directions: the right moves to the bottom of her sweater and begins to glide it upward, revealing those luscious, tight bra-less breasts my mouth has nuzzled many times in my private mental-fantasy moments before now. She slowly caresses her breasts, alternately pinching her nipples, which quickly become swollen and rock-hard. Her left hand pulls her skirt up to her waist, softly touching my hair ... face.... As I train my eyes on her, she briefly smiles and giggles, but her pleasure is too strong to remain distracted and she begins to let forth a deep growl as her hand slides to the point just above where my mouth meets her mounting moisture. The frothing frenzy mere microfibers from her rapidly spreading pussy lips call her fingers closeby. Her index and middle finger move deftly underneath to straddle her barely-covered clit and begin to rub in a way that tells me they are not strangers, but friends. As she begins to writhe in the morning's growing heat, her position on the desk becomes unsteady, making me fear what would happen if the desk fell over, injuring one or both of us. As if she reads my mind, she grabs my head and pulls me over to the floor. This change of position reminds me of the raging hard-on I'm enjoying but wanting to free. Again, she arrives at the place before I can say anything. She scrambles frantically at my belt and pants, like she believes there won't be any treats in the bucket if she's not through the cage in 2.5 seconds. Before I can gasp in relief, my pants and underwear are strewn on the floor some ten feet away. Now, my prize pupil is teaching me about the power of determination. She cups my shaved balls in her left hand and takes my entire cock into her mouth like it's her reward for staying after class and talking to teacher. As she works her way up and down on my thick engorged monster, her saliva runs over my balls. Her left hand slippery from the magical potion of saliva and her own cunt juice, she slides her fingers to my asshole and coaxes my anus to relax -- all the while rolling my stirring volcano in her right hand. She slows her pace, silently telling me there's so much more to cum. I smile in bliss. Slowly, she works her middle finger into my aching asshole. When she sees I'm about to blow my wad, she abruptly stops and slaps my mountain. As I lay on my back, momentarily stunned, this powerful, flexible, sweet bitch swings around on her right leg, and in one unbelievable acrobatic flying move, removes her musky, moisture-laden panties, exposing the buried treasure I coaxed open moments earlier. This sight of the young coed some five feet from me, now bent over fingering her pussy, sends me over the edge. Once again, my crotch leads my body’s movement from where I am to where she is. Hearing the charge of the rhinoceros, she spins around and stands straight up, asserting her power. I dip down, picking her up at the waist. As I begin to carry her, the sweater she is wearing slides over her head, fully releasing those amazing tits, so round, firm, and upright. Again, her nipples spring to attention. Once more standing on the floor in victory, she laughs, grabs my balls, and speaks for the first time since telling me she'll "do anything." "Come with me," she commands. We both laugh. I grab her skirt and pull it straight down. As she hears it rip under the strain of moving past her rock-hard ass, she laughs again. "Fuck it. I've got four more of those in my room. Besides, it'll be fun giving the boys a show as I dance over to my room." She laughs again and tugs my nuts. While I'm bent over forward in shock, she jumps on my back like a kid on the playground. Laughing, she squeals, “Give me a ride!” Our intermingling sweat along with the added moisture of her sweet juices press on my lower back and I feel them trickling down my butt crack toward my balls. Before I can prepare myself, the dancer masterfully uses that same slickness to slide to the left. By instinct, I widen my stance, thrust my hips forward, throw my torso back, and bend at the knees in preparation to catch her. That adjustment causes her movement to increase. She spins around me like I’m a stripper’s stage device, and sweeping her right hand below her, catches my joystick, effortlessly mounting and sliding her tight, hot, sweet cunt lips all the way down to my hips, while her slick canal envelopes my fleshy invader. Wrapping her legs around my ass, she lays back in midair, her body parallel to the ground. All the while, she's squeezing her legs around me, taking full advantage of the ability to pull her body back and forth on my rigid tool. I lean back and claw at her ass, attempting to be a counterbalance to the soon-screaming and fully-thrashing wildwoman increasingly lost in the waves of orgasm as her body shudders under the weight of her head exploding in pleasure. As she screams in ecstasy, her cum glides over my cock and balls, dripping off my scrotum. She momentarily relaxes, then quickly spins 90 degrees so that the top of her right foot catches behind my head and her left leg slides between my legs. Not only does this force my cock into an uncomfortable position, but she slowly begins to squeeze my balls between her legs. Reeling to take in this delicious pain and not fall over, I spread my toes, throw back my head, and moan deeply. Seizing the moment further, she flies headfirst for the big toe on my right foot while swinging her right hand around to take hold of my backside. In a split second, she simultaneously digs her razor red fingernails into my ass and forcefully bites down on the toe. All the while, she increases pressure on -- and in -- my aching balls. When I squeal from the pain, she sucks the toe, then lets it go. I watch a small, thin line of blood ooze from the top, yet the nails remain embedded some three feet higher. "You know why I did that, you motherfucker?" she probes with a wicked grin, still squeezing my nuts and pulling my reeling rod downward, but releasing and slapping my tenderized backside. I take her hands and swing her chest upward, that bold blonde hair rushing behind. As her legs again make their way around my hips we stare deep into each other’s eyes, engulfed in the moment. "Yeah," I smilingly wince, "I do. You sweet bitch tease." I walk her over to the table, half releasing and half throwing her hot glistening body onto the gleaming finished top. While I thrust my member to match her momentum, her knees unleash my midsection and her feet spread wide. She lands with a thud and sweat-drenched slide, her jugs jiggling the first time I've ever seen. Unharmed yet infused with this injection of sex-charged energy, she both begs and demands, “Fuck me with a fury...NOW!” With a final spin, she flips facedown on the table, her hot pussy still wrapped around my third leg. She grabs the sides of the table, bracing herself for the deep, pounding cum building to explode from deep inside me. As a dancer, her intuitive groove is rhythm, and within two thrusts, she knows mine. As I drive deep into her gooey gash, she begins to buck like a bitch in heat, wanting her stud to come and cum deep in her in order to bring about the fulfillment of her purpose. However, I’m not ready to end her ongoing pleasure in this hedonistic romp. As I feel her powerful spasms begin to swell I immediately slow my pace. She lets out a slight whimper, first from unmet expectation but then from heightened sensation as I slowly pull my pulsating head past her frothing pouty lips which quiver at the bump of the monster’s departure. With the same timing, I slip the fleshy slippery beast forward across her asshole, my left thumb reaching over to press the belly of the beast against her excited anus and to pick up the pure juice of her passion fruit as the monster pulls back to once again find the honey pot. Immediately, my slickened thumb rests on her now-lubed anal entrance. Again her passion pleasure principle stuns me as she instinctively arches her back and lets forth a deep growl. Her bunghole opens ever so slightly, and at the same time my thumb slides up to its deepest joint, my thickness slides back into her sheath and all the way to the hilt, inducing a lust-empowered “OOOOOHHHHH!!” As the tip of my thumb massages her inside, and the knuckles expand and release the tension at the entrance, the fluids of her ass quickly take over the lubing the back door. In concert and in sync, my instrument drums the hot rhythms of the wild kingdom we have entered. Her clitoris pulsates with each thrust as my naked, swinging lava rocks brush the hardened and barely exposed button; her fresh melons give in to sexual swell’s gravitational and stroke-driven swaying. Our sweat-drenched bodies move with the motions of ancestors deep from history past, when the panting, moaning, grunting and orgasmic yelling told it all: fulfilling the pleasure of the primal urge was the only language needed, known and used. This modern coed has captured the power of the past and fused it with the passion of the present, as her powerful sculpted body surges with me in the act of unbridled heat. We no longer act upon each other; we act with each other, this purely physical -- almost brutal -- elevation leading to indistinguishable mutual sensation. As the spasms deep within her womanhood seduce me, we draw near to climax. From what feels like the bottom of my feet, I feel the hot creamy steamy cum working its way out of me. As the first burst shoots from my rock, my head explodes in orgasmic explosion and previously unknown vocal convulsions propel from deep inside my belly. Within microseconds, those convulsions translate from vocal only to pelvic also. My hips slam deep into her womanhood, while my engorged cock pulls my balls tighter. The total physical intensity rushes to the middle of my body -- from the area as high as my belly button to the bottom of my ass -- so that the overwhelming spasm underway produces an orgasm that makes me feel like my spinal fluid is part of my cum. As my ass tightens, forcing the second spray of cum to start firing wildly, the rapidly heating warmth of the orgasm centers first at the base, and grows progressively hotter in an uncontrolled burn as it radiates out and all through my cock. As the third and most powerful burst is just about to be unleashed, my sexual universe feels like it will now explode -- even as her lovetube gapes to engulf it and suction the hot creamy culprit flailing for freedom. As I happily lose all sense of control, that exhilarating rush of my cock rippling out the cum also triggers her sexual firing pin. In the power of her feminine mystique, with her head up, her blazing blonde hair thrown around, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy, and her tits barely swinging back and forth as the forerunners to what is beginning, her mind welcomes the tsunami her muff now produces. The rollicking screaming slashing multiwave orgasm overtakes her, which shockwaves the lecture table across the lecture stage. The pump sprays cum inside her in powerful shots, my synapses exploding in the ongoing pleasure of our shared orgasm. As we lay across the stage, our naked and separated bodies glow from the blend of sweat and cum, although we can’t tell from whom the particular juices first came. Slowly catching our breath, she takes my cock in her mouth and slurps up the oozing cunt juice and seminal white chocolate still milking from my cumrocket. She takes a lick, looks up my chest to my face, takes another lick, and requests, "Will that help my grade?" I sit up quickly and playfully grab her. "Yeah, That'll move you up one-third of a grade. Keep up the good work, and you'll pull a B in the class." She plants her hand on the floor, and spinning around ends up with both legs straddling mine. I feel the warm juices of our passion, which begin to ooze from her squeeze box then run over the base of my cock, and down onto my balls. She doesn’t notice it, but gleefully squeals and throws her head back in disbelief, her erect nipples brushing my face and a jolt of her woman scent leaping from between her ever-perfect melons. I lightly run my tongue up her the middle of her chest, from between her breasts to just below her neck, but she doesn’t even seem to notice. "Wow. A grade of B? That's fuckin' hot.” She looks back down at my still sweat drenched face, then reaches her right hand behind and below her ass to find my the head of my cock. A final drop of cum has made its way to the tip, and as her finger passes over it, she wipes the drop onto her fingertip and from there to her tongue -- almost looking like a small child who discovers the world through tasting whatever is in her hand. She looks at the contact as she rubs the finger dry on her nipple and then looks back at me. “Whattaya doin' tomorrow?" she inquires in the same excited tone of a moment earlier. I throw my head back and laugh. "Shit, this is amazing!" I think to myself. "I'll bang her all the way to an A-, and she'll think I'm the greatest fucking teacher in the world. I can handle this!" And a smile rolls across my face. ------ Sitting at the desk in my small office during office hours, I'm feeling the tension rise between my legs as I consider what that whole scenario would be like if it ever came about. I hear a light knock on the door. "Come in," I call out half dreamily and half disappointed. The blazing blonde hair swishes around the edge of the door, the sculpted legs following a nanosecond later. The coed nervously inquires, "Hey, Professor J, can I talk with you soon about my grade in your class? I can't talk now 'cause I have dance rehearsal, but would it be okay to talk real soon after class?" I force myself not to stare, yet give into the urge to indulge a second’s worth of eye candy. The ‘V’ where her running shorts outline her frontal mergepoint, and the obvious disappearance of the front seam into her labia lead my wandering eyes upward toward her tight, cut midriff. The amateur adjustment to the shirt’s lower half leaves her unencumbered breasts nearly exposed. After what seems like minutes, my blinking eyelids break the momentary trance, allowing me to absorb the childlike expression on her tanned face. The thought about hitting practice after office hours flashes through my mind, and I fight myself to avoid giving away my intentions through unintended body language. Making The Grade I look at her straight in the eyes and answer, "Yes, that would be acceptable. What about tomorrow? after the morning class?" Immediately after saying this it hits me: tomorrow is the discussion on Reductionism. Her tension disappears. "Uh, sure! I'm dancing at the game tomorrow night, so my time's kinda limited, but that'd be bitchin'! OOHH, sorry. I didn't mean to be disrespectful...." "It's okay,” I say, smiling slightly. I pause a moment, then ask, “Hey, what do you prefer to be called?" Distracted, she turns to look out the door, giving me a profile view of her exquisite form. I can’t help but notice the cut of the shorts on the side goes all the way to the waist, and from where I sit, the cut of the midriff gives an almost completely clear view of the bottom of her bare breasts. She turns her head, catching me trying (and failing) to be discreet about inspecting her tits, then says innocently, "Well, some of the guys call me 'Squeeze.' That’s okay." My smile widens. "Alright, Squeeze; I'll see you tomorrow." After she turns, I watch her tight ass as it disappears out my office door. Once again, the lines of her thong push out through the shorts, and the color difference of her smooth skin screams through the wispy thin material. I settle back in the chair, smiling about the growing tingle in my crotch. © 2000 by Willie B. ver. 20010101 Making the Grade I have been an "A" student since grade school and graduated number one in my high school class. My father is a doctor, and my mother is an attorney. Both of them have always set high standards for me, and it has always been important to me to meet their expectations. Although you might suspect that I am a geek, I have always been popular among my classmates. I was vice president of the student body in high school and was first runner up for home coming queen. The quote by my picture in the yearbook says "beauty, brains and sweetness, all in one package." Though I have had boyfriends since I was 13 or 14, I did not become sexually involved until the summer before my senior year in high school. My boyfriend at the time wore down my resistance after months of working at it, and he and I probably had sex once a week throughout our senior year. When I enrolled as a freshman at Yale, I knew it would be more difficult than high school, but I expected to achieve the usual high grades with the usual ease. This was true for the most part, but I was struggling mightily in physics. No matter how hard I studied, I never seemed to do better than a "C" on the bi-weekly exams. After getting a "D" on the mid-term exam, I became very concerned about my final grade and decided to speak with my professor. Dr. Jones (name changed to protect the innocent) is a very nice looking man, probably in his early 40's. Rumors abound about whether he is single or divorced, and he gets lots of comments among the girls – all favorable. He welcomed me into his small office with a pleasant smile, nodding toward a chair for me and sitting in the swivel chair beside his desk. He listened sympathetically to my tale of woe and my grave concern about earning nothing below a "B" in physics. I tried to make my case with an appropriate combination of academic seriousness and feminine wile. "Lynn, you're a very bright girl, but I suspect that your aptitudes are not suited for physics. You should try to adapt to the idea of something less than a "B" for the final grade." I gulped as he said this, because the idea of a "C" or worse is so unacceptable to me. "Oh, please, Dr. Jones, there must be some way for me to make the grade. I absolutely couldn't face my parents with anything less than a "B." "Speaking very pragmatically, Lynn, I don't think there is a way." "But Dr. Jones, I will work hard . . . I'll do anything for a 'B'. Absolutely anything!" He squirmed in his seat a little, and I could tell that his mind was racing. "Can you combine your determination with absolute discretion, Lynn?" he asked with his eyebrows raised. "Oh, Dr. Jones, I can be and would be the soul of discretion." "Can you follow instructions to the letter?" he asked. "Oh, I can, I can," I implored. "Turn the lock on the door behind you." I turned and twisted the lock, throwing the dead bolt in the door to his office. "Now, unbutton your blouse." I felt the warmth in my face as I blushed at this request, but I desperately wanted that "B." I started with the top button and unfastened them quickly, pulling the blouse from the waistband of my skirt and freeing the bottom button. "That's a lovely bra, dear, what size is it?" "It's a 36C, Dr. Jones," I replied, with my voice quavering. "Would you like to take it off for me?" he asked quietly. I responded by freeing the clasp at the front of the bra and pushing it and my blouse off my shoulders and down my arms. My firm breasts bounced free, my nipples beginning to harden in response to the chill and to the forbidden nature of what was happening. "Very nice, Lynn. You have beautiful tits." He rolled his chair closer to mine and extended both hands toward me, hesitating briefly for any sign of reluctance on my part. I showed none, and the fingers of both his hands began to caress my breasts and stroke my nipples. The electric jolts shot directly from my nipples to my crotch. I moaned softly as he licked his lips and tugged gently on my nipples. "How seriously do you want that "B," Lynn?" "Oh, Dr. Jones, I have to have a "B," I implored. "Take your panties off for me," he said, almost in a whisper. I pushed my skirt up around my hips and tugged my panties down, slipping them over my shoes. "Show me," he said, and I spread my thighs and lifted my skirt, letting him see my pussy. "Are you a virgin?" "No," I answered, with my voice trembling. "Take off your skirt and shoes, and sit up here on the edge of my desk." I reached for the button at the waistband of my skirt as I kicked off my shoes. After letting my skirt drop to the floor, I stood up and took two steps and seated myself on the edge of his desk. He stood up and followed me, standing in front of me unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. His pants dropped, and he pushed down his boxer shorts to expose his erection. He took it in his right hand and stepped closer. With his left hand he urged my thighs widely apart, stepped closer still, and began softly rubbing the head of his penis up and down my pussy. I trembled in response, partly in fear, partly in erotic reaction. "Do you want it?" he asked. I nodded slowly. "You have to tell me, Lynn, and you must use erotic language. Talking dirty isn't dirty under such circumstances." "I really want it, Dr. Jones. Please give it to me." "That's still a "D," Lynn. You're going to have to talk more persuasively." "I want your cock, Dr. Jones. Please give me your cock." He smiled sardonically and moved another half step closer. He rubbed the head of his penis up and down the slit of my pussy, then pressed it against my opening and pushed gently. The head slipped snugly inside me. The jolts of energy shot in both directions up and down my body, and I took a quick breath that made me gasp. Dr. Jones slipped his hands behind my hips and pulled me forward as he thrust toward me, pushing his penis halfway inside me. "Does that feel good, Lynn?" he asked in a quiet but husky voice. "Oh, yes, Dr. Jones. It feels so good!" "You're only performing at "C-" levels, Lynn, remember what I told you." "Your cock feels so good in my pussy, Dr. Jones. Please fuck me." He pushed again, forcing his penis fully inside me. "Unbutton my shirt!" I quickly undid the buttons on his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms. He leaned toward me, rubbing his chest against my breasts. "You have nice tits, Lynn, does that feel good? Do you like my cock in your cunt?" "Mmmm, that makes my tits feel so good, Dr. Jones. My cunt loves your cock. Fuck me, please!" He withdrew his cock almost fully, and I looked down to see it wet and shiny from my juices. I watched as he thrust it back inside me and felt the "switch trip" from acting for his benefit to actually enjoying what was happening. "Oh, god, that feels good. Give me that big, hard cock!" I whispered hoarsely. He lowered his head and closed his lips around my right nipple, sucking it hard as his hips moved to thrust his cock in and out of me. I put my hands on his shoulders and held on as his thrusts became increasingly hard. I could feel the head of his cock rubbing deep inside me. "Fuck my cunt! Fuck me hard! Fuck me deep!" I encouraged, and he responded with increasingly rapid thrusts of his cock. He suddenly stopped, withdrew his cock, and pulled me off the desk and onto my feet – turning me to face the desk and making me bend forward. I put my hands on the edge of the desk as I felt him pushing his cock back inside me from behind. It went deeper than before and felt great. His hands moved beneath me to cup and caress my breasts as he resumed fucking me. "You should have come in earlier in the semester, Lynn" he whispered, "we could have avoided some of those "C's." I love that tight, wet little cunt of yours." "Then fuck it, Dr. Jones! Fuck my tight little cunt! Squeeze my tits, and let's fuck our way into an "A." I thrust my hips back at him as he repeatedly plunged his cock into me. He moved one hand away from my breast and began to finger my clit as he fucked me. "Oh, god, yes, that feels soooo good!" He groaned quietly and then said, "I'm going to cum, baby, your tight little cunt is going to make me cum! I'm going to fill your cunt with my hot cum!" "Give me your cum!" I squealed. I was becoming more and more excited as one of his hands moved from nipple to nipple, pulling on them, while the other hand rapidly fingered my clit. I knew I would cum soon too. "Uuuuunnnnhhhh," he groaned, and I felt the first burst of his cum explode inside me. I twisted on his cock, pushing back on him, and he thrust hard as a second burst shot up the length of his shaft. He suddenly slumped over my back, thrusting in shorter stabs, as I felt my own orgasm beginning. My legs began to tremble. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I cried out softly. "I'm cumming, Dr. Jones!" My body was trembling now, from the soles of my bare feet to the back of my neck. I reached between my legs and ran my fingertips over his balls, feeling him thrust forward in a startled way, squeezing the last of his load inside me. He kissed my neck, shoulders and back for the next minute or so, as we both panted to recover pulmonary function. Then he withdrew his cock and turned me to face him, resting my hips once again on the edge of his desk. He rubbed his wet cock over my pussy, smiling at me. "An "A" it is, Lynn. You have clearly mastered all the physics you need." Making the Grade Please, if you are under the age of 18, don't read this material. Just wait a few years and you'll be all good and legal for this kind of stuff. Now for the rest of you, Enjoy! (fF, Oral, Spank, Humil, School) In the world of Fantasy, we make our Reality! ***************************** During my senior year I worked my butt off to get good grades. This was the final year that colleges would be looking at when considering my application and I wanted to do as good as possible. I left nothing to chance, and made sure every assignment I did was an A. And for the most part everything went well, I would work hard and receive the grades I wanted. And it wasn't easy. Ms McKlain, my teacher for English class, was a very strict, no-nonsense woman who made sure you worked hard for your marks. However, I think I was her favorite simply because I gave so much effort for my grades. But there was something a little bit unfair. Even though I was always getting A's on assignments, there was another group of students that also got A's. The problem was that these students were downright awful. They were the low lifes, the drugies, the future dead heads of society. It was clear from the beginning that they never had any intention of working hard for their grades and were always so horribly behaved to the teacher Ms McKlain. But like any good teacher, she would have none of it and always put them in their place when they acted up. Yet when report cards would come out, they always bragged about their top grades. Something just didn't seem to add up. I just couldn't understand it. Why would my reputable teacher, give these poorly behaved drugies A's and B's when they hardly did any work. I began to realize that someone must be pressuring her to do this and I suspected who. You see one of the members of the group is Jamie. Jamie comes from a rich family and used to be a little princess. But when she entered highschool she got caught up into drugs and into the wrong crowd and now she's the one who buys the drugs for the group. So I figure that its Jamie's parents who pressured Ms McKlain to give good grades. But I had no proof. I needed to find out the truth in all this. So one day, after school I decided to sneak into Ms McKlains room and look at her grade book. I needed to see if grades had been changed. Luckily the room was unlocked for the janitor so I snuck in and went straight to the desk drawer. Darn, locked. I took out a little pocket knife I keep in my purse and tried playing with the lock and to my amazement it opened. I opened the drawer and found what I was looking for, Ms McKlain's grade book. I pulled it out, placed it on the table and opened it. I was right. Under Jamie's name and a few of the others, grades had been changed. What used to be D's and F's where now A's and B's. This was definite proof that something was going on. Suddenly I heard voices outside approaching the room. In panic I threw the book back in the drawer but realized that I was trapped. Any moment people would be coming in and catch me. With out thinking I duct under Ms McKlains desk and hid just as the people entered the room. Fortunately the desk was designed so that I was hidden on all sides except where the chair was. Upon hearing the voices I realized that there were two people in the room, Ms McKlain and Jamie. Ha! Now I was going to catch them red handed. I sat back and listened carefully. "I hope your parents are doing well?" "They are, thanks, now about this last grade Ms McKlain." "Yes, well, you did a very poor job on the assignment Jamie and the 'C' I gave you was more than generous....." "Yeah yeah what ever, listen I don't have time for this, I have to meet up with my friends soon, so lets just get this over with so you can change my grade and I can get out of here." Get what over with? What was there arrangement? I began to hear the rustling of clothes and suddenly it felt as if someone was sitting on the front of the desk. After a minute of I began to hear a faint noise, but still couldn't see anything. I strained my ears to hear better. Soon I could make out a strange slurping sound, almost like someone was licking......OH MY GOSH.....What was going on up there??? Suddenly I heard Ms McKlain give out a low moan. That Bitch. I cannot believe that she would do this. Trading sexual favors for better grades. I could even hear poor Jamie moaning herself as she probably suffered to please the teacher. This was horrible. Jamie was moaning even louder now, probably trying to get her teacher to hurry up and cum as she licked away. I felt so badly for Jamie now, being used like this by her teacher, just to get a better grade. Soon the table was shaking. After a minute of silence. I heard Jamie, in obvious lack of breath from her task begin to talk: "Ok Ms McKlain, you can change my grade now." Suddenly I felt someone lifting off the table, and soon noticed Ms McKlain walking to the back of the table. My heart froze in fear of being caught as she opened the drawer and pulled her book out. She laid it on the table and began writing in it. Then she put it back in the desk, closed the drawer. "Ok Ms McKlain, thanks for your time and see you tomorrow." "No problem Jamie, remember to say hello to your parents for me." And they both walked out. I just sat there for five minutes thinking about what had happened. At first I was very upset at Ms McKlain. How could she be so ruthless as to take advantage of a student like that. And poor Jamie, I was actually feeling sorry for her now. I could still imaging the rich drugi on her knees orally pleasing her teacher for better grades. Then another thought acurd to me. I had already admired and respected Ms McKlain, but now I saw her in a new light. The fact that she could commanded such a position from a student awed me. I mean in class, Jamie and her drugged up friends would try to act so tough, but it appeared Ms McKlain was truly the queen of the class. On my way home, I was actually beginning to feel better about the situation. Sure Jamie and her friends got better grades than they deserved, but thinking about the price they had to pay made me smile. ------------ Over the next few days in class I carefully studied Ms McKlain, Jamie and her friends. It was amazing. Despite what had gone on that day, all their interactions were as if nothing odd was going on. The group was still rude to Ms McKlain and she would always put them in their place. Even when more assignments were handed back with bad grades, there was not even the slightest hint of change of expression on any of their faces as to how it would be resolved later. Despite my curiosity, I had'nt gone back to witness more of Jamie's favors. I didn't really need to see that sort of thing. I was happy enough knowing what Jamie did without seeing more of it. Until now, all of Jamie's papers were C's. That was until today when I saw Jamie received her's with a big 'D' on the front. For the first time I saw a change of expression on her face as she looked at her grade. At first she had a look of being very upset, then it quickly changed into a slight but cruel smile. I soon realized that she was no longer looking at her paper but at Ms McKlain. I darted my eyes over to Ms McKlain just long enough to see her looking right back at Jamie before looking away. This was definitely something odd. I mean until now all of Jamie's grades were C's. If she had to do oral favors for a 'C', what would Jamie have to do improve a 'D'? Curiosity got the better of me and that evening, just after school, I again snuck into Ms McKlain room and hid under her desk. Within ten minutes I heard them both enter the room with Jamie obviously very pissed. "What the hell is this? A 'D'? How can you give me a 'D'?" "Well Jamie, this was a very poorly done paper, I felt it didn't deserve any better than a 'D'." "Do you really think so? Well I'm sorry you think that. What do you suppose we should do about it Ms McKlain? "Well Jamie, I...I think someone must......be punished for that grade." Wow, so that was Ms McKlain's terms. If Jamie wanted to get a better grade, she was going to have to accept a punishment. "Yes Ms McKlain, someone should be punished." So, Jamie seemingly was accepting these terms. "And....what type of punishment should be....be given?" "Oh I think a spanking is in order don't you Ms McKlain?" "Yes, I think that is deserved." Something was a little bit strange. Despite the fact that Jamie was about to get a spanking for her 'D' her voice seemed more confidant then ever. And even more strange was Ms McKlain voice seemed more timid, despite the fact she was about to spank her student. After a moment I felt someone leaning against and over the desk. The only thing that separated my face and Jamie's was the thin table top. Then Ms McKlain spoke again. "Ok Jamie, I'm ready to begin" "Hold on Ms McKlain, let me lift up the dress first.....and slide down the panties.....ok now we're ready to begin." I couldn't get it out of my head how snug and cocky Jamie sounded. I mean she was about to get spanked by her teacher. Then quickly it happened [SLAP]. The table jerked as the sound of the first spank vibrated around the room. It was like time had slowed down. I couldn't believe it was actually happening. [SLAP] Another jerk of the table. [SLAP] a slight moan came from above. [SLAP] another moan. I now had an image in my head of high and mighty drugged up Jamie bent over Ms McKlain's desk, with her exposed little ass sticking in the air. The thought made me tingle. [SLAP]...[SLAP]...[SLAP] Now the spanks were coming down harder and faster as the moaning became louder and quicker. Soon I could her faint crying as the merciless spanking continued. 15....20... They just kept going. There was now significant wailing coming from above and I was getting worried. Ms McKlain was taking this too far. Her student was in misery and there was no sign of stopping. I had to end this. As much as I wanted Jamie to suffer I couldn't allow this to continue. So with one more spank I crawled out from under the desk and quickly stood up....and dropped my jaw. At first what I saw didn't focus in my head right away. Something was very confusing. For some reason, the sight of Jamie standing frozen with her hand held high didn't register properly. As my eyes traveled down the confusion only increased as I tried to comprehend why Ms McKlain was bent over her desk wailing. My eyes then finally centered on the exposed, and very red plump behind of Ms McKlain. The full realization hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn't Ms McKlain who was spanking Jamie, it was the other way around. But how could this be? Jamie was the one who was supposed to be punished for her bad grade. I then looked back up to Jamie. She just stared at me, frozen with her hand still in the air. She was apparently stunned by my sudden appearance. Then she began studying me, looking at my reaction to the sight before me. I looked down to Ms McKlain's face. Her eyes were closed and her face was contorted in pain as her wailing was slowing down. She still hadn't noticed me but was starting to shift since Jamie had paused in her spanking. She was about to open her eyes and instinctively I dove back under the desk. After a few more seconds I heard another [SLAP] immediately followed by another loud wail. Jamie then continued almost uninterrupted as I sat below Ms McKlain's desk trying to comprehend this new concept. So Ms McKlain was the one being punished for Jamie's bad grade. But why? Why would Ms McKlain allow herself to be spanked by her own student, then give her a better grade as a reward? Then another image entered my head. The image of the last time I was under Ms McKlain's desk. The one were Jamie was supposed to be on her knees orally pleasing her teacher. But that's not how it was. Instead the teacher, who commanded so much respect and took no nonsense from her students was the one on her knees sticking her face between her rude student's legs, and now was bent over her own desk and spanked like a child by the same disrespectful girl. Finally Jamie signaled the end of the spanking. "Ok Ms McKlain, I think that's enough. Has someone learned a lesson today?" "y..y..yes.....I..I'm sorry." "So you say, but I doubt it. When your done wailing Ms McKlain you can get up and change my grade." After a minute, Ms McKlain wailing lowered to repeated sniveling and she lifted off the desk to move around to the front. Again I was petrified that I would be caught. As she came to the front I had a perfect view of the lower half of her body. She still had her dress above her waist and her panties down around her ankles as she rounded the front rubbing her very red behind. Then she turned completely towards the desk and began pulling out her grade book. Now her bush was only a foot away from my face and while she was busy re-entering Jamie's grade I peered between my teacher's legs. Her lips and pubic hair were almost completely drenched and there was some juice running down her legs. Now it made sense. Now I knew why Ms McKlain was allowing this to happen. It turned her on. She must be loving this. My sicko of a teacher must get off on dominating her students while in class, then being dominated by her rudest one later. Jamie got better grades out of it. It must be the perfect deal for both of them. Now Ms McKlain, still sniveling, put the book back in her desk. "Very good teach, take care of the little butt and see you tomorrow" Jamie proclaimed in a perky voice and then she was gone. Ms McKlain stood in place for a full three minutes rubbing her behind and sniveling, then pulled up her panties, lowered her dress, and left. I just sat there in awe. I now knew what was going on, and why, but I was still in shock. Then I heard the Janitor down the hall making his rounds, so I got up and left before being discovered. That night I found it hard to sleep. I tossed and turned as I thought about all I had witnessed. I was also a little unsure of myself. When I had first thought it was Ms McKlain who was dominating Jamie I had smiled to myself and felt a little tingle around my pussy. But now that I knew the truth, that it was Jamie who was dominating Ms McKlain I no longer smiled, but had that tingling feeling even stronger and deeper. Then a question popped into my head. Every time Jamie and Ms McKlain where finished, Ms McKlain would only change Jamie's grade, yet I know for a fact that some of Jamie's friends grades were also being changed. This was a new mystery that I feared I would soon find the answers too. Then for the first time, it finally hit me that Jamie had seen me, and knew that I had witnessed their little game. Would she do anything about it? Would she tell Ms McKlain? Would she stop all together? I was still thinking of these questions when I walked back into class the next day. Jamie and most of her friends weren't there yet, and Ms McKlain was doing the usual, simply writing on the board. She gave me no indication that she knew of me. Just as the bell begun to ring, Jamie and her crowd waltzed through the door making all sorts of noise and being rude. Immediately Ms McKlain told them to be quiet and warned them against mis-behavior. I was in awe of how Ms McKlain could be so confidant and in control with Jamie one moment, then be completely the other way around later. Jamie and her friends seemed to quiet down and class began. For a while I couldn't bring myself to look at Jamie. But by mid-way through the class, I realized that Ms McKlain hadn't sat down yet. How odd this was. Soon after this thought, Ms McKlain assigned us a test and had no choice but to sit. I watched carefully the frustration on her face as she readied to sit down. When she finally sat, a moment of pain came across her face. I inwardly laughed to myself as I realized why. I looked over to Jamie to see her cruelly smiling back. I quickly turned away and went back to my test. Over the next few days nothing really happened. There were very few papers handed back and the grades Jamie was receiving were pretty good. I was also surprised that She never once approached me about what had gone on. I was pretty much convinced that she hadn't told Ms McKlain either. As the days turned into a week, I was actually a little bit disappointed. A part of me was hoping to see more, witness more of the little games that the teacher and her student played. Finally a week and a half later I got my wish. Ms McKlain was handing back our grades from the test we had taken. I of course got an 'A' and Ms McKlain smiled approvingly as she handed me my paper. The whole time she was passing out papers, Jamie and her group were talking loudly amongst themselves. As she reached Jamie the small group quieted down. Ms McKlain was trying not to show it, but her hand was shaking as she handed Jamie her paper. Jamie took one look at the grade, then cruelly smiled back up at Ms McKlain. I could have sworn I saw Ms McKlain shiver. She finished handing out papers and returned to her desk as the bell rung. As Jamie was getting up to leave, she was showing the grade to her friends, and I could see what it was......an 'F'. Through out the rest of the day my imagination went wild. What was going to happed this time? I mean if Ms McKlain had to give oral sex for C's, get spankings for D's, what would Jamie do to Ms McKlain for an 'F'? Dozens of scenarios went through my head and needless to say by the end of the day I was very wet and excited. I could hardly stand the anticipation. Finally the bell signaling the end of the school day rang and I made my way to Ms McKlain's room. Making sure everyone had left, I entered and took my spot under Ms McKlain's desk and waited....and waited.....and waited. Nothing! After a half an hour I was starting to get confused and worried. What was going on? It was at this time that I noticed the note taped on one of the inside walls of the desk. All it had on it was an address. I thought for a moment and recognized that it pointed to a residential neighborhood in a not too comfortable part of town. I figure Jamie must have written this and I could not be sure what she had planned. Never the less, I was much too curious and soon found my way towards the address. I arrived at the address to find a run down looking house with several cars parked outside. I had no intention of walking through the door so I starting walking towards the back to look for a window. Unfortunately the large dog that was guarding the backyard would have none of it. So I found a window on the side of the house, braced myself, and looked in. Inside, sitting around a coffee table on couches was Jamie and almost the entire gang from the class room. They all seemed to be drinking and smoking weed. Bottles were everywhere and the smell was horrid. The rest of the house looked just as pathetic. But besides that, there was nothing special going on. They were just sitting around talking. I couldn't even see Ms McKlain. Then there was a knock on the door. Jamie rose from her chair and opened the door. There stood Ms McKlain, dressed in her regular teachers suit and carrying a book in her left arm and a teacher's paddle in her right. "Hey Ms McKlain, what a surprise, what can we do for you?" "Hello Jamie...I wanted to....er...what I mean is...." "Ms McKlain, unless you hurry up, I'm going to go back and continue smoking weed with my friends." "Well I'm here to....talk about....your exam grade." "Oh that, that was a very poor grade you gave me Ms McKlain. What was it you gave me again?" Ms McKlain lowered her eyes "An F" I could see a shiver run through her as she said it. Making the Grade "Ya, that really was harsh. And I heard you gave the same grade to some of my friends, is that true?" She nodded. "Tisk tisk, your a bad teacher aren't you Ms McKlain?" Again she nodded, eyes to the floor. "So what are you here to do about it?" "I'm...here to....apologize." "Ok Ms McKlain, we'll let you try, now follow me." Ms McKlain obediently followed Jamie into the main room with all the friends. "Hey everybody, look whose here. The teach is very sorry about giving us that nasty grade on our exam and is here is personally apologize for it." The group hollered and laughed as Ms McKlain's face started to turn red. Jamie then took the book from Ms McKlain and set it on the coffee table. Then she took the paddle and joined her friends on the couch. Now Ms McKlain stood at the center of the group. "Before we can listen to your apology, you first need to dress more appropriately." Blushing even more, Ms McKlain began unbuttoning her blouse to the snickers of her students. Soon she pulled it off to reveal her rather large bra covered breasts. Next she lowered her skirt down to her high heels and stepped out of them. There she stood, only in white bra and panties, hoping that this would be enough for her wicked student. "Ms McKlain, your still not dressed appropriately for class." With a sigh she reached back and undid the clasp of her bra and soon her bosoms hung free. Her pink nipples hardening to attention. Then she took hold of her panties and lowered them. I was very surprised to see a bald pussy as the strict, no-none sense teacher stood only in high heels before her rudest students. The boys whistled and the girls snickered as Ms McKlain held her arms at her sides and head low. "Ok Ms McKlain, its time for you to begin your apology." Ms McKlain slowly walked over to Jamie and, to my amassment, laid herself over her knees. Jamie, paddle in hand and smile on her face brought the paddle down hard on Ms McKlain's exposed ass. Ms McKlain jerked her body and gave a slight shriek before announcing: "One, I'm sorry Ms Jamie" Then came another "Two, I'm sorry Ms Jamie" "Three, I'm sorry Ms Jamie" "Four, I'm sorry Ms Jamie" After ten brutal swats Ms McKlain ass was a nice rosy red as she squirmed on Jamie's knees. Then Ms McKlain rose, took the paddle from Jamie and walked to another one of her students, a girl named Tara. She handed Tara the paddle and, to my ever growing amazement, laid over her lap to. "One, I'm sorry Ms Tara" "Two, I'm sorry Ms Tara" "Three, I'm sorry Ms Tara" "Four, I'm sorry Ms Tara" Every time Ms McKlain stood up, her ass was getting redder and redder. After the seventh and final student had paddle her, her ass was a horrible red. She was crying heavily and jumping up and down from the stinging pain, which caused her large breasts to jiggle and bounce obscenely. Now Ms McKlain stood before Jamie, rubbing her tender ass as she held her head down. Jamie looked at her teacher, then jabbed two fingers into her pussy and began stroking. Ms McKlain squirmed but didn't resist. After a moment she couldn't stand any more and sank to her knees. Jamie continued to furiously jab her fingers into the teacher. Then sensing that the teacher was close to orgasm, pulled her fingers out. This caused Ms McKlain to whale in frustration. "Oh what's the matter? Does the poor wittle teacher want more?" Drenched in shame the teacher begged her student "Yes please, please, I need more, please put your fingers back in me." "Back in where?" "MY PUSSY! I need your fingers in my pussy!" "Oh what a nasty little teacher we have here guys, she wants her own student to get her off. Well first she's going to get us off." Jamie then inhaled some weed and blew into the teacher's face, before removing her own panties. Then Jamie grabbed her teacher's hair and roughly forced Ms McKlain's face into her now exposed crotch. Ms McKlain immediately went to work licking her student's pussy for all she was worth. As Ms McKlain licked, the other students took their delights on her body in other ways. One girl took a large paper clip she had stolen from Ms McKlain's desk and attached it to her left nipple. Others had taken markers and were writing obscene comments all over her body like "slut", "bad teacher", "pussy licker", "failure". They even wrote two big F's, one on each tit. Another girl shoved an empty beer bottle into her ass. When Jamie had orgasmed, Ms McKlain was passed to the next student, Tod. I could remember that he always was making rude sexual comments about his teacher behind her back, yet now here she was bobbing her head up and down his cock while the girl was still fucking her ass with the bottle. Most of the other students had gone back to smoking weed and talking as they waited their turn with the teacher's mouth. Finally after all dicks and pussy's had been taken care of Ms McKlain crawled back over to Jamie and rested her head in her lap. Jamie stroked her head as she spoke: "There there, that's a good girl. Your apology seems to be sincere. You've made your student's very happy. Now why don't you be a good little teacher a go change those nasty grades." Ms McKlain nodded, then turned around towards the coffee table. Jamie gave her a quick slap on the butt and Ms McKlain crawled to the book on the table. That's when I realized what it was, it was her grade book. I continued to watch as Ms McKlain opened her book and, with a clip on her nipple and a beer bottle sticking out of her ass, began to change all the grades from F's to A's. When the last grade had been changed, Jamie lifted her foot between her teacher's legs and rubbed her sneaker against her pussy. Soon Ms McKlain began rocking her hips back and forth over her student's dirty sneaker. She rocked faster and faster until she exploded in dirty pleasure. She collapsed on top of her grade book as she cried through her orgasm. After a good 4 or 5 minutes of drinking and smoking weed Jamie told her teacher to turn around and lick the mess she made off her shoe. After cleaning Ms McKlain again knelt before Jamie. Jamie then stood and walked out of the room. A moment later she return with what looked like a dog collar and a leash. She clasped the collar around Ms McKlain's neck and attached the leash. The teacher's body was shaking as she kept her head down. "Now Ms McKlain, everything you have done until now was an apology, and we have accepted it. However, you still need to be punished for being such a bad teacher, don't you Ms McKlain?" Ms McKlain nodded as tears formed in her eyes. Jamie then cruelly removed the nipple clip and beer bottle from her ass, as well as her high heels. And with that Jamie began to lead her crawling teacher out the back door. The gang was now really getting riled up. As the Jamie opened the back door I could her the loud barking of the dog. My eyes widened as the realization of what was about to happen dawned on me. The last image I saw was Ms McKlain's ass wiggling out of the door before it closed. I turned around and ran, ran as fast as I could. I couldn't bare to see what was going to happen. It was too much. I just ran and ran until I reached my house completely out of breath. I went to my room and collapsed on my bed. As I lay there, I realized that my cloths were sticking to my body from the sweat of running. As I began to remove my cloths I noticed my panties were completely drenched. I couldn't deny it. What I had witnessed had really turned me on, even as perverted as it was. I began to remove the panties for a new pair but my fingers accidentally brushed against my clit and a low moan escaped my lips. Suddenly all the images that I had seen within the past hour came flooding back. The sight of Ms McKlain getting paddled, of the words being written all over her body, of the beer bottle lodged in her ass, of the crude way she fucked Jamie's shoe, and finally of her reddened ass as she crawled out the back door. My knees gave way and I collapsed to the floor as I furiously rubbed my fingers against my clit, cumming hard a few moments later to these images. I awoke the next morning with my fingers in my pussy. I got dressed and went to school. The entire day all I could think of was last evening. What would it be like today in class. How would Ms McKlain compose her in front of the same students that degraded her. My answer came as I entered Ms McKlain's class. Nothing. Not a thing was different. I was truly amazed at how normal Ms McKlain acted when she was back in class. She was back to being her strict demanding self again. Even when a few of the bad kids were talking too loud, she immediately told them to be quiet and they lowered their voices. However I did notice that she wasn't sitting in her chair very much, as well as the high collared blouse she was wearing. I'm guessing the two large F's on her breasts didn't wash away yet. It was then that I looked over to Jamie and saw that sinister smile looking back. I turned away in embarrassment. She knew I was there last night. She knew I saw almost everything. But why was she letting me see all this? Was she toying with me? In any case, the next few days nothing special happened. Most of the work we did in class wasn't very hard, even Jamie and her dumb friends did well on them. Despite myself I was just begging for Jamie to get another bad grade. I wanted to see more. I know its horrible for me to wish this but I was so dame curious to see the teacher I once respected get humiliated some more. Especially when Ms McKlain was acting so tough in class. So when Jamie got a "D" handed back to her the next week, I almost shrieked with joy. I was almost shaking with anticipation the rest of the day. Finally the last school bell rang and I made my way to Ms McKlain's room. Making sure everyone was gone I slipped in and hid under the desk. Right on queue I heard Jamie and Ms McKlain coming into the room after a few minutes. "But Jamie, you didn't even turn in the assignment. I thought I was being more than generous by giving you a 'D'." "Ms McKlain, a bad grade is still a bad grade, and you gave me a bad grade did you not?" "Yes I did but..." "Ok Ms McKlain, your right. I have no reason to protest. I'll leave right now and keep the grade." "No wait!" "Yes?" "I...I...your right." "Right about what Ms McKlain?" "You deserve a better grade." "I see, you know what that means don't you teach?" "Yes Ms Jamie." Then I felt the desk move slightly as Ms McKlain must have been bending over it. Then the rustling of a skirt being lifted and panties being lowered. Then I heard the sound of a hand caressing bare skin as Jamie began tormenting Ms McKlain. "You know Ms McKlain, you really are quite pathetic. Bending over your own desk while letting a female student half your age caress your bare ass. A student that couldn't care less about your class or your teachings." I could here a low moan escape from the teacher. "It reminds me of the first time this happened. I was sick and tired of all your shit and bad grades. I walked into your class after school ready for a headed argument. Imagine my surprise when you surrendered so quickly. I had always been warned that you were a tough bitch, but now your my bitch aren't you, your my little pet." Another moan. "Oh you resisted at first, trying to act all high and mighty, but I broke you soon enough. I remember your face the first time I told you you were going to be sticking that educated tongue inside my ass, all shocked. Now you can't get enough. And your embarrassment when I showed my new pet off to my friends from class, it was priceless. You've made me a lot more popular Ms McKlain that's for sure. But you get what you wanted out of it as well. We both know how much you enjoy being humiliated by your worst students. Just look how wet you are right now, its pathetic. And your wiggling your ass just begging for punishment aren't you." "yy..yes Ms Jamie" [SLAP] "Ahhh" [SLAP] [SLAP] [SLAP] "Ahhooooowwwweee" "I mean I could work hard for my grades, but this is so much more fun isn't it Ms McKlain?" [SLAP] "Ahhh yes Ms Jamie" "Its a whole lot easier spanking my teachers ass instead of kissing it like some of your other students, like Amber for instance." Did she just mention my name? "Students like Amber work so hard to get those top marks, but I know this is how you prefer to give grades." [SLAP] "Ohhhh" "And what do you think of Amber?" [SLAP] "Do you believe she deserves the high grades that she gets?" [SLAP] "Well, Amber is a very good student" [SLAP] "ahh, and she works very hard for her grades." Finally, Ms McKlain is sticking up for me, her best student. "Yeah, she's a regular teachers pet isn't she?" [SLAP] "Ahhh!" "Just like your my little pet aren't you?" Well..hmmm [SLAP] ahhhh....yes [SLAP] YES! [SLAP] I'm your little pet! And do pets deserve to be punished? [SLAP] "Uh Huh!" Where is this going? "And since Amber is her teacher's pet, doesn't she deserve to get punished?" [SLAP] "Yes Ms Jamie." "So go ahead Ms McKlain, tell Amber how bad she's been." "Amber, you've been a bad girl [SLAP] always turning in 'A' papers [SLAP] and being so smart [SLAP] and so well behaved [SLAP] and becoming your teacher's pet [SLAP]" "And does she need to be punished for being such a bad little pet?" [SLAP] "Yesssss!" "Come on Amber, you heard Ms McKlain. You've been a bad little pet and need to be punished." I was shocked. She couldn't really be meaning that I actually be punished...could she? She especially couldn't expect me to actually agree to being punished for getting good grades. I was expecting her to continue, to move on with her humiliation of our teacher. Yet all I could hear was my own ragged heavy breathing. To my utter shock and surprise I found myself slowly rising from beneath the table. As I stood I could see Ms McKlain's shocked face, but worse Jamie's evil cocky smile. Instinctively I lowered my head. Why did I do that? "Come little pet, join your teacher in her punishment." Tears started to form as I walked to the front of the desk. Now I could see Ms McKlain's very very red exposed ass. That's when I felt Jamie's hand gentle push my back forward. And there I was, lying over Ms McKlain's desk. Ms McKlain on the left, I on the right. The respected and in control teacher and her smartest dedicated student side by side, bent over the table, skirts up over our backs and panties at our ankles, and asses exposed to the cruel hand of the rudest student. [SLAP] The End! All Comments are greatly appreciated, please send them to my address. Your encouragements keep me going :) ******* This work is copyright (c) 2002 by Phoenix Arrow. You may download and keep copies for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on the copies. Please do not post this story to any web site without permission from the author. All other rights reserved. No alteration of the contents is permitted. Making the Grade This is my first story written from a male perspective and I hope it turns out okay. $#$#$#$# The second quarter of the fall semester was turning out to be a bitch. The Dean had laid on another section of European History on me after one of the other profs got herself bent out of shape in an auto accident and I had to take over mid-stream. The prof was one of those radical feminist types who always thought that every event in history was just another excuse for an "assault on womyns' vaginas!" Naturally, it was my luck to not be at the Department meeting when it was decided who would take over the classes filled with militant neo-lesbians. I guess a little of my own history is in order. My name is Philistine Smith, or 'Phil', and I am a tenured Professor of Western Civilization at the University of California at Berkeley. That probably explains a lot to you about the militant neo-lesbian component on my campus. I've got another fifteen years to go until I qualify for full retirement, but when you're fifty-one fifteen years doesn't seem all that long a time. I actually went to this school thirty years ago and was one of the fellows who actually went to class and did okay for himself instead of smoking pot, dropping acid, and protesting "The War" and "The Man". I graduated with my Phi Beta Kappa Key and found a lot of doors in the world flung wide open before me. It wasn't hard for me to pick up a teaching job at Mills College where I spent my days teaching and my nights writing my doctoral thesis on why the Edict of Nantes was actually a good thing for the Hugenots in the end. My doctoral thesis attracted the attention of the old guard of the faculty at Berkeley as it was one of the few mundane subjects they'd seen in quite some time. They were surprised that I could string together six hundred pages without using the name "Viet Nam" even once. I was offered a tenured position in the Social Sciences Department and that was about it for me. I rapidly became known for not having a single controversial idea and the more conservative students, those who managed to finagle their way onto campus, all tended to gravitate to my classes. All the better to my liking as I didn't have to deal with walk-outs, sit-ins, drop-outs, and fuck-ups. In thirty years of tenure I'd never been mentioned on the front page of any newspaper nor as the lead story on the evening news. This is a rare accomplishment at Berkeley. Well, yes. And I also met my darling wife in 1976. We were at a bar along Telegraph where I was grading papers and she was a grad student celebrating the election of Jimmy Carter. As the first Democrat since Kennedy (true Dems don't count Johnson, I've found) there was a lot of hope that Carter would be able to clean up Washington and heal the wounds of Viet Nam and Watergate and Anna was radiant with hope that evening. And no small amount of rum, too, I might add. The rum is how we met, or what caused us to meet, that is. Anna jumped up on a table as Gerald Ford came on TV to concede the election to Carter and I looked up to see her lose her balance. I caught her head just before she would've hit the fireplace at the old bar and, in the process, doused a number of papers with beer. She laughed her drunken head off and asked me my name before going back to the party. I shook my head at the foolish drunk and gathered up the sodden paperwork to take home and toss in the dryer. The next day a much more sober Anna came to my office and apologized for her lack of decorum the night before. She'd had to go back to the bar to get my name as she'd forgotten it as quickly as I'd said it to her. Upon visiting the bar she examined the spot where we'd met, took a good look at the fireplace, and realized how close she'd come to dying from a head injury. And I was her hero. Imagine that. Me. A hero. To Anna, I was better than Superman. I was the first man she'd met who didn't try to get in her pants right away and I didn't make a big deal about saving her life, which seemed to enamor her of me even more. She took me home to meet her family over Thanksgiving and then I came back for Christmas and New Years. The clock rang in 1977 and I proposed to Anna on bended knee with four years' savings displayed in a little blue box from Tiffany & Co. It seemed appropriate that we were married on January 20th, Jimmy Carter's Inauguration Day. The years went by and Anna gave me three beautiful children. All three grew up to be the kind of kids any man would be damned proud to have. Our eldest, Lisa, works for the Justice Department as a young FBI agent. Millie, the middle child, is pre-med at Johns Hopkins. And Darryl, our youngest. What can I say? The son of a radical and a nebbish and he got on the bus for UC San Diego and got off at Camp Pendleton. Right now he's God-knows-where hunting for Saddam and Osama for his Uncle Sam as a United States Marine. He's quite the sight in his uniform, especially when he comes to visit the old man here at Berkeley. He came to see me last month before he shipped out and he walked proudly into the nest of neo-lesbian heckles and screams that is now one of my classes. It was quite inspiring to me when he kept his calm and walked to the front of the class and saluted me before hugging me. The class was dead silent when they heard him say, "I love you, dad." The mean faces with short-clipped hair were all mute, probably in fear that I'd retaliate against them come grading time. And isn't that the joy of tenure? Make no doubt, some of those sick little Rosie O'Donnell wanna-bes will be losing their financial aid when their semester grades come out. I hope their little attitudes are as welcome at Podunk Community College as they are at Berkeley. Anyhow, I saw my son off after first dismissing the class and I walked him across campus to get him a cab to the train station at Emeryville. I found myself looking at him now and again as we walked and I wondered how it was that I had raised a lean, mean, killing machine. I still remember him crying when his goldfish died. I still remember him crying at his mother's funeral last year. His entire platoon, eighty-three strong, came to the funeral and six of them carried Anna from the chapel to her final resting place. Darryl's sergeant ("Master Gunnery Sergeant Ortiz!", as he'd surely remind me) later told me that he'd felt an obligation to show the respect of The Corps to the mother of, as he said, "One damn fine Marine, sir!" Turns out that this is high praise from a USMC Sergeant. My Anna was the mother of a damn fine boy and I'll never forget it. Which brings me to Thrusday night three weeks ago. Melissa Courtney, a fetching little lass if there ever was one, comes into my office blathering about her financial aid and scholarships and on and on. She's actually one of the better students, and normal, to boot, in the neo-lezbo class. Quite by mistake, I'd flunked her thinking she was one of the lezbo mob that had screamed and spat at my Darryl. It would just be a matter of paperwork for me to correct her grade and I'd have simply done that were it not for her sudden clarity of speech. "Prof. Smith, sir, I'll do ANYTHING, I mean it sir, ANYTHING, to get my grade back!" She kept talking and I guess I just tuned out the noise and thought about her long, brown hair and her shapely little figure. After all, it had been five years since Anna and I had, well, you know with her illness there hadn't been any sex at the Smith house in some time. I held my hand up to Miss Courtney and she quieted down. "Now, Miss Courtney," I swallowed as I crossed an ethical line, "you had a...a proposition in mind, did you? And what, pray tell, would that be young lady?" The English language with all of its nuances and intonations has the remarkable ability to say something while using words completely unrelated to the message being conveyed. Miss Courtney grasped my meaning accurately. Her eyes widened and she whispered, "You mean you want me to give you a blowjob?" I stood up and went to the door of my office. I looked up and down the hall and the place was a tomb. A glance at the clock and I realized it was after eight in the evening! No wonder we were alone. I closed the door and locked it before turning back to Miss Courtney. "Yes, Melissa, a blowjob shall be a nice start to redeeming your grade. But first," (in for a penny, in for a pound I say) "why don't we see those boobs of yours? Hmm?" Shocked, she stood there as I sat back down in my chair and pushed back from my desk. "Now would be a good time to take off your blouse, dear." I could see her mentally balancing the value of her grade against her integrity and I guess virtue just isn't what it used to be. Odd, I was simultaneously pleased and disappointed when she unbuttoned the blouse to reveal a satiny pink bra over, hmmm, they must've been 34, maybe 35 C's. My cock began to whir with some familiar feelings as the girl undressed and I must say it was nice to feel like a man again. "Melissa, I can call you 'Melissa', right?" She nodded her assent. "Yes, and you can call me 'Phil', if you'd like. Yes, Melissa, let's have you take off that bra, shall we?" She was truly quite lovely once she was bare from the waist up. Pert breasts with a womanly hint of fullness to them decorated by the kind of nipples a child would someday find easy to suckle upon. Melissa was acutely aware of me staring at her wares and her apprehension faded a little to display her more aggressive side. "Can we get this over with? I can't stand here like this all night." I perked up an eyebrow at her insolence and then sighed as I unzipped my trousers, pulled aside my boxers, and freed my cock for my new friend. She came around the desk without being bidden and I was pleased when her eyes went wide at the side of my equipment. Anna had always told me I was blessed as a man but I just took her words as the act of a loving wife. Melissa's reaction reminded me of the passion Anna and I had once shared and I felt myself swell with anticipation. The pert little brunette knelt between my legs and looked at my tool before looking up at me, as if maybe I'd change my mind. "Go on, dear, it's getting late." And, God Bless America!, did Melissa go on. It was my first blowjob, to be honest, and Melissa did such wondrous things with her toungue! I let my hands drift into the cloud of her lovely hair as her head bobbed up and down on my cock and I asked myself why I hadn't insisted on this kind of thing years before? The talented young thing knew just how to do this and I realized that she'd acquired no small amount of experience in this sort of activity. I felt less guilty for what I was making her do as the image of her unsoiled innocence faded from my mind. Quite literally, I saw stars as my loins erupted into her mouth. The little nymph didn't stop as I released and she drew forth another gout of my juice. I was catching my breath as she suddenly stopped, stood up, and turned to the garbage can. Just as quickly, she knelt down and noisily upchucked the contents of her stomach into the can. Upon consideration, I realized this might be why I've heard men prefer that a woman 'swallow'. The alternative is rather unappealing. "There, are you happy?" Clearly, the insulted and aggrieved girl was fighting back tears. My mind quickly calculated her gathering courage and I decided that courage, a virtue in general, wasn't a good thing in a young lady who'd recently fellated her professor under coercion. I decided to quickly take control of things. "SLAP!" She was clearly stunned. "Melissa, you'll do well to speak to me respectfully or not at all." I let her dwell on this for a moment. "We'd be done here tonight were it not for your attitude. As of this moment you have earned yourself a 'D'." The implication was clear. While she wouldn't fail with a 'D', she'd not be returning for the Spring semester. I took her reddened cheek in my hand as I talked to her. "My house is in Orinda. You'll be my guest tomorrow night for some more...tutoring, shall we say?" She drew a breath to protest and I placed a finger on her pouty, full lips. "No, dear, not one more word or the deal's off. Got it?" She looked down at her shoes and nodded with proper submission. "Good. Then I'll pick you up at the BART station at, say, six tomorrow evening. We'll have a nice dinner and I'll introduce you to a remarkable claret before we have a lovely sorbet and a port older than yourself for dessert." I loudly zipped my trousers for effect. "Now get dressed and get out of my office, I have work to do." It was all I could do to studiously ignore the pretty girl as she dressed and then exited my office, closing the door quite properly behind herself. The door had no sooner clicked shut than I'd broke out in a sweat over what I'd done. It takes thirty years to build a reputation and five minutes to destroy it. And I'd put in the five minutes now, hadn't I? The trip home was uneventful and the traffic through the Callahan was blessedly light. Less than forty minutes after I'd locked my office door I was in my chair at home with a generous tumbler of Scotch soothing my nerves. What the hell was I thinking? What was I really going to have the poor girl do tomorrow night? Me, a flabby old man with a comb-over and a taut young thing. Mutt and Jeff, we'd be. Surely, Melissa had a young man on the Bears who'd kick my ass right into the emergency room were he to find out. I had three children who'd never forgive me. I'd lose my job. The girl could sue me. A lot of years had passed since I'd had a half a fifth of Scotch and I certainly felt it the next morning. I had to take a migraine pill before getting in the car and then I still suffered as the traffic on the 24 crawled along. It was noon before I felt normal again and then, after lunch, it was time for class. Melissa was absent from her seat and my paranoid mind was just waiting for the Dean and Campus Police to walk in the door and arrest me in the middle of creating the Hanseatic League. The rest of the day was no better. When four thirty came along I was relieved to get to my car without handcuffs on and I flipped on the radio for some music as I made my way to the Oakland hills. It was quarter past five when I pulled off at Orinda and drove past the BART station. Then I drove past it again. I guess it was on my fifth circumnavigation of the station when I pulled in and parked near to the front. It was ten 'till the hour according to the deejay. My passenger door swung open and a blur of blue and gold jacket swung in. The fist of a boyfriend was on my quickened heart and then I saw the blur of brown hair bundled up neatly upon a feminine figure. "You're early. Thanks for not making me wait." She sounded appreciative, really. It was uncomfortable, at first, but we drove along and talked about school before arriving at the house. The garage door closed behind the car and I escorted my guest into the house. Melissa asked for, and received, a large vodka rocks before dinner, I guess to try to relax. She toured around the house and complimented the view even though the view is really of other houses in the valley. She even remarked on the furniture and surprised me with her eye for the Federal pieces in my library. She readily knew them to be originals and not reproductions. It surprised me that she had this kind of depth. Dinner went off quite well. The salmon almondine was done perfectly and the claret was a nice accent to the red fish. The raspberry sorbet complimented the forty-five year old port and I noticed my guest having no small amount of the fortified spirit for herself. We finally retired to the living room where I set a nice Brahms medley on the CD player and our conversation continued. The five CD's had run their course and my guest and I noticed the evening had moved into the later hours. Melissa's light mood suddenly evaporated and she poured the remaining half of the fine port into her empty water glass and then emptied the glass in single draught. "There," she slurred, "now I'm ready. The dinner was great and all, but how 'bout we get that blowjob done so I can go?" Without prompting, she stood and pulled off her polo top and doffed her bra. Kneeling down at my feet she pulled at my belt and undid my trousers, pulling my rising cock out of my boxers. She looked at me, then down at my crotch and then held her hands to her face. Springing up she ran to my bedroom and slammed the door. That she was crying was a certainty and I composed myself before following her. "I'm not a slut." she sniffled as I entered the room. "I never said you were, Melissa. I just wanted to accomplish some business and enjoy your company for the evening." She sniffled again, almost a snort if you will. I patted her on the back. "You can't blame me for wanting you, can you?" She nodded politely and I could see my little bit of flattery was well timed and well taken. "Where's your bathroom?" she inquired. I gestured at the correct door and she got up from the bed where we were seated and strode quite beautifully to the door. The volume of alcohol she'd imbibed had caught up with her bladder and the tile walls of the bathroom served to amplify the resultant sounds. She peed like a racehorse, frankly. It was a while before I heard the sound of a flush and then a good fifteen minutes passed as I waited for her to emerge. When she didn't appear I finally got up and knocked on the door. With no response I opened the door and found my guest in a rather distressed position. Her pants and panties were around her ankles and her face rested on the counter next to the toilet where she was still seated. The snoring was subtle and feminine. I chuckled a bit as I knelt down and looked at her. "Melissa?" "Melissa, dear, are you awake?" There was no response. Well, I decided not to leave her like this all night and I had to figure out how to get her to the bed. Carrying her was out of the question since my back just isn't what it used to be. I'd have to get her awake enough to stumble to the bed. I shook her a bit and got a precious little response. Calculating that I'd be able to get her to her feet, and that I'd need her on her feet to get her pants back on, I knelt down and removed her sneakers, socks, and then the pants and panties. Sure, I could've done this another way, but this way I got to see her naked. This way was the best, don't you agree? Freed from her constraints I got her arm around my neck and lifted her up. "Wha-wha-where am I going?" I chuckled again. "I'm putting you to bed. You're drunk." "Okay." She worked with me enough that we made it to the bed where I let her fall to one side. I walked around to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers back then, reaching across to Melissa, I prompted her to get in and then I pulled the blankets up over her angelic form. Memories of mornings in the distant past when a girlfriend stole out early one morning came back to me. I gathered Melissa's clothing and her purse and placed them in the trunk of my car. Now it was well after midnight and past my own bedtime. A proper part of me thought about the guestroom and then I gave consideration to the naked brunette in my bed and figured a little companionship in bed might be nice for the first time in too many years. My clothes were folded in their place and I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I flossed and brushed and rinsed. Spitting out the mouthwash I looked at the paunchy, two hundred sixty pound fellow in the mirror and wondered what Melissa would think when she awoke to this sight in the morning? I decided to find out. Making the Grade I set my customary glass of water by my bedside and then set a little blue pill next to it. The pill had been a gag gift for my birthday and I'd kept it with its three comrades, never thinking I might have a use for it. Then I eased myself into the bed where my guest was busy snoring off her drunk. It was really quite th luxury when I sidled up to her naked form and draped my arm around her breasts. She fidgeted a little bit and then cuddled herself up to me before slipping into a deep sleep. Satisfied with the company of a warm woman in my bed, I readily slipped off to a comfortable sleep as well. I didn't stir again until the clock buzzed at six on Saturday morning. I reached over and clicked it off wondering why I'd set it so early on my day off? A delicate hand pawed at my back and I remembered the night before. I turned gently and in the early morning glow I saw my guest happily sleeping next to me. Her hand drifted to my fat belly and playfully tugged at my belly hairs. I reached for my water and was about to take a swig when I remembered to find the little pill. It was right where I'd left it and it was soon the first thing I'd have for breakfast. I slipped back into the warm covers and lay on my back, unsure of what to do next. Melissa, in her sleepy innocence, lazily placed her hand on my hip, her fingers perilously close to my crotch. Ever so gently, I reached over and touched her breast, my fingers tracing a feathery touch along the young skin. The little bud of a nipple swelled up in response to my attentions and it swelled more as I brushed my index finger over it. The promise of the blowjob the night before was nothing in the world compared to luxuriating with this beautiful nymph first thing in the morning. I breathed a silent, and blasphemous, prayer of thanks to God for giving me this moment. With an empty stomach it wasn't long before the effects of my little blue pill were being realized. I felt a vigor I hadn't felt in over twenty years coursing through my body. Maybe a half-hour passed between my taking the pill and its taking effect and I amazed at the throbbing monster tenting up the blankets. It was even more amazing when a certain delicate hand wrapped around it and gave me the most gentle attentions I could ever have imagined! In the growing light I looked at Melissa's face and saw her lips pursing in a kind of tempo. The tempo matched that of her hand on my cock. Then it wisely occured to me to wonder what her other hand was up to. Or down to. Her moans grew in intensity while her hand busied itself in her crotch. Shortly, the hand that had been giving me quite the thrill was removed to hold her own chest as she brought herself to her own rapture. An old familiar musky smell came to me and I was quite taken with the heady aroma of a sexually pleased woman in my bed. I felt like a teenager as I realized I had no idea what to do next. Once again, I was blessed by Fate. Melissa stirred and whispered to the morning. "Mmmm, I want you." In her sleepy, orgasmic state she was asking for her lover. I knew damn right well she wasn't thinking of me when she made that invitation, but I'd been wanting more than a blowjob and this was probably going to be my only chance. As gently as I could, I rolled myself over and held her head in my hand. Removing her pillow, I laid her pretty head down on the sheet. Her hand went up behind my neck and gathered me to her breast as I kissed the ruby set against her porcelain skin. "Mmmm" she murmered as I suckled the perfect nub in between my teeth. I dared one leg to insinuate itself between her fawn-like limbs and she didn't challenge me at all. I kissed her neck as I got myself fully between her legs and felt my heart wildly thumping in my chest. I mused that, yes, this would be an okay time to have a heart attack and die! The delicate hands went up to my sides as I held my weight on my elbows and kissed her lovely, long neck. I was conscious of the heat of her body on my cock and I fought the urge to simply assault the girl. I imagined myself teasing her and making her beg me to take her. I pictured myself waiting an hour before doing anything. Turns out I have no such willpower at all. My painfully hard cock touched a woman for the first time in years and a rusty old instinct took over and made me thrust. Melissa responded by spreading her legs for me and I pushed again. Her dewey lips caught the head of my cock and I gasped with joy as I felt the head poke into the precious girl. My thrusts were not as measured as they might once have been and my need was quite overwhelming. I kissed Melissa full on the lips and she kissed me right back as thrust myself into her body and my passion began to build. With one final and deep thrust we were fully involved and I felt my heavy balls fall against her pretty, upturned ass. Melissa's back arched as I pushed hard and deep into her and her pretty eyes opened to look at me. The dreamy, sleepy look gave way to wide-eyed horror as my young guest realized it was me. Our kiss abruptly ended. I froze in place, poised over the young beauty. "Prof. Smith! Omigod, what's going on? Where am I?" Her hands felt up and down my sides and then she tried to reach between us. I shifted a bit and my cock moved inside of her. "You're FUCKING ME? You filthy, ugly fat BASTARD! You're gonna go to jail you fucking evil piece of shit!" Her tirade continued and I was really quite insulted. Her little hands pushed feebly at my shoulders and there was really no way she was going to be able to push me off of her. She screamed with frustration. "Get the FUCK out of me before you make me pregnant! I'm unprotected you goddam dumb, ugly fuck!" Melissa's little legs were running in place they were so busy trying to get me away. A little sidebar here is needed. In years passed my wife and I would have been making love and if she'd become upset my cock would go limp as if the air had been let from a balloon. But Viagra doesn't work that way. As humbled and concerned and insulted as I was, my cock stayed nice and firm in Melissa's pussy. Her struggles made for some back and forth motion and that wasn't bad either. I'm not sure if it was the Viagra or just what it was, but the insults had hit a chord with me and my reaction surprised even myself. "Melissa SHUT UP!!!" I bellowed. Her pouty mouth went open in utter shock. She drew a breath to say something. I held her body tight and felt her pussy pull off of me. "SHUT...UP!!!" My face was maybe two inches from her when I said this. I reached up to her face with one hand and held her lovely cheeks, scrunching up her face in a kind of caricature. "You, yes YOU, asked me to make love to you and now I am making love to you..." She struggled and moaned and I squeezed harder. "...and you're going to be a good girl and let me finish what YOU asked me to start." A tear ran from her eye and down her cheek. "No...please...no." "YOU asked me to." The little sprite went from vulnerable little girl to a full-on harpie in a flash. "You're not sticking that FUCKING THING back in me if I HAVE TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!" Funny thing, before she'd shifted into 'bitch' I was about to stop and just let it go. She hawked up a goodly amount of lung cheese and spat it straight in my face in the midst of the hurricane of insults and screams and acrimony. I reached to my bedside table and drew a tissue that I used to wipe my face. Impassioned, I let it fall to the floor and then I refocused on the nasty little thing in my bed. I made up my mind. She settled down a little as she felt me rise off of her and step from the bed. She fell silent as I padded out of the room to my library. I remember thinking to myself that my cock looked ridiculous as it stuck straight out as it did. In the library I reached up to the frame that held one of my eldest daughter's mementos of her Academy days and then I turned and padded straight back to the bedroom. Melissa was still on the bed when I came back. "Where are my clothes?" She said some other things I also ignored as I got up on the bed and pushed her down on her back. I straddled her chest and roughly grabbed her right hand. The smartass bitch act ended quite abruptly when the handcuff locked into place. I held her hand behind the stout bedframe and seized and locked up her left hand as she tried to slap me. I got up from the bed now and walked to the foot of the bed. The noise coming out of her mouth stopped as I grabbed her ankles and pulled her tight. She screamed as her shoulders and wrists were suddenly very uncomfortable. "Melissa, I was actually going to let you go until you spat in my face." She screamed some more nonsense as I pulled the blankets from the bed and dropped them to the floor. Her eyes were quite wide as I walked around and got back onto the bed with her. She recoiled as I rolled myself onto her again and forced her legs apart. "There, now, Melissa," I said with my cock poised at her entrance, "now we can finish what you started." My chemically enhanced cock slipped right back into her moist, warm body and she silently endured my renewed attention. The only vocalizations I had from her for twenty minutes were little gasps as I'd give her sudden, deep thrusts in the middle of my steady lovemaking. With no more complaints I enjoyed kissing her neck, caressing her breasts and her arms, and she didn't complain when I pulled her legs up to my sides, allowing me to bottom out my cock in her lovely body. She closed her eyes and kissed me back when I dared to place my lips on hers. The returned affection made me push into her a little harder and I was rewarded with a familiar feeling. Her tender little pussy contracted around my cock as the little vixen milked me. Our kissing became more fervored and her legs gradually spread further to accept me. I felt like a man again as the young woman responded to me. It took some more keen effort, but she finally rewarded me with a prize beyond price for a man such as myself. My reward sounded like this: "Unnnnghh....unnnghhh.....UNNGHHHHH!!!" Melissa's pussy spasmed about my thrusting cock as the beauty surrendered to her lust. There was a time when I'd have become gentle at a time like this, but this wasn't the time. I got up on the girl in a push-up position until the only place where we touched was where I plunged into her again and again. She strained to spread her legs wider as I prolonged her sexual release. My chest was thumping wildly and I saw a drop of sweat fall from my forehead to the lust inflamed breast beneath me. I fucked her as hard as I could. I fucked her 'till she screamed and fell completely limp. It wouldn't be long now. I could feel it. I grit my teeth as my lungs burned with the effort to keep up with my body. Melissa tossed about like a ragdoll as I fucked her relentlessly. My arms gave out and I fell onto her body, crushing her into the mattress. I kissed her and thrust my toungue into her weakened mouth and felt her tender little toungue meet mine. I thrust into her deeply and held myself there. "Oh, Jesus." I heard her say. My hard cock throbbed and swelled and poured my come into the girl's eager pussy like a firehose. "Oh, God...oh, God...oh, God..." With each pulse of my come into her pussy she'd call upon Divinity. It was quite a nice compliment, really. Her legs relaxed and I lay my head at the side of hers while my cock stayed unnaturally firm as it spasmed for a while longer. The sheets were quite sodden with our comingled sweat and other sundry juices. I felt around and touched her thigh and she responded by pulling her leg up to my side. The movement stimulated me and I made a slight thrust into Melissa. "Mmmm...ahhhmmmmmm." And thus, were we off and at it again. In the middle of fucking her the second time, I undid the handcuffs and was rewarded with a lovely kiss from my bedmate. Eleven in the morning was when my cock finally went limp for the day after doing a yeoman's job of repeatedly servicing my young guest. We weakly made our way to the shower together and Melissa surprised me yet again with her tenderness as we washed each other. "Phil, I'm glad you didn't let me go. God, I had no idea what an older guy could be like...shit." I kissed her and held her tight, wishing the moment would never end. Hmmph. I did have three more pills left, didn't I?