Extra Credit

Bob Kenworth shuffled his presentation notes on the lectern at the front of the small lecture hall at a community college in a sleepy midwestern town. He could have been a tenured professor at the capital city's State University but found definite advantages to being a bigger fish in a smaller pond at this more remote setting.

The last of his few dozen students were filing in and getting settled for class. He saw the clock ticking down the last two minutes before the hour and awaited the recurring sight about to unfold.

The rear room door swung open a final time and Farrah stepped through. She paused, scanned the room with her Mona Lisa smirk, drawing the eyes of every male in the room, including Bob. Some turned in their seats to look back at her, others were adjusting their cocks hidden under lap covering notebooks. Some of the young women scowled at the young men's fawning interest; others simply ignored the scene.

The head cheerleader was her usual vision of classic preppy loveliness: strappy heels elevating her smooth lithe legs to the hem of her mid-thigh pleated skirt and beyond, a nearly transparent white blouse bulging with big boobs, and the fluffy brunette waves that fell past her shoulders.

Having set the scene, Farrah delicately trod a few aisle rows down to the empty seat she always occupied. Bob watched her bra-packing breasts jiggle and her shapely ass sway as she sauntered her way to her usual perch and settled into the seat next to the junior college's star quarterback.

She leaned over, whispered a smiled greeting, and pecked the muscled athlete's cheek as she pressed his arm with her soft boobs. He stoically accepted the impromptu nuzzle, abiding the envious looks from some of his teammates.

Bob wondered how many of the boys in the room were thinking what he was thinking:

...waiting at the end of class until all the others left, grabbing the bodacious cheerleader from behind and pushing the conceited cockteaser's back against the wall, pressing her tits with his chest, bending her shapely leg up against his waist, slipping aside her thong and driving his hard cock deep into her wet cunt, suckling her neck while hammering out a standing fuck, ignoring her preliminary protests ringing in his ears until the angry shrieks softened into whimpers of passion, bringing her and him to a mutual roaring orgasm that left both panting with ecstatic exhaustion...

He blinked his eyes and cleared his mind of the recurring fantasy, bringing his attention back to his work.

With the last-minute disturbance concluded, everyone, including Bob, turned their attention to the day's lecture on circle geometry mathematics.

Time passed, notebooks filled with graphic notes, graded homework was returned and new exercises were assigned. Bob was gathering his notes as he watched the students exit, including a receding vista of Farrah's tight shapely ass.

The school's quarterback freed his arm from Farrah's over-friendly clutch and turned back to the front of the hall. Bob finished packing his laptop as the fit-looking boy, holding his graded homework, approached.

"Mr. Kenworth, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure... Curtis, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. Though most call me Curt. About my grades. I think I may have a problem with academic eligibility for football."

"Oh? What's the problem?"

"Well, I need to maintain a C average to stay on the team. I'm slightly low, especially in your math curriculum. Farrah has been tutoring me as much as she can but I still seem to be behind."

Bob's mind was filled with visions of a busty naked Farrah writhing beneath her star boyfriend, tutoring Curt in complex cock rhythms rather than complex math algorithms. The scene morphed into a vision of Bob above Farrah, pounding his stiff cock into her juicy core. But the professor kept his expression discrete. His replicated annual ploy was on the verge of another successful semester.

There were two ways out of this Midwestern backwater junior college: academic or athletic scholarships to State University. And Bob was the sly facilitator for students striving to achieve either path. But not for free...

"Well, I know Farrah is an excellent math student but she may not have the advanced tutoring skills that an experienced teacher can offer."

"Well, then, could you give me some extra tutoring?"

"Curt, that might be seen as favoritism. I know you're in line for an athletic scholarship to State U and Lord knows they could use your unparalleled talents in that tough conference, probably getting them a championship. But rumors about academic grooming might hurt your chances."

Bob watched the boy hang his head and his anxious expression fade. Now was the time: bait... hook... and reel 'em in.

"Maybe there's another way. I could show Farrah some novel tricks and she could share them with you. That way there's no direct connection."

Curt's head lifted and his smile lit the room. His future was brightening and generous Mr. Kenworth was offering to help.

"Look, Curt, it's already Friday and your next homework is due next week. Send Farrah by my house this evening and I'll get started teaching her some special gambits right away."

"Thanks a bunch, Mr. Kenworth. I'll see you then."

----------

At home that evening, in the receding dusk, Bob lounged on his living room sofa, anticipating Farrah's arrival. He was dressed casually, loose shirt and gym shorts, not the classroom coat and tie that the campus dress code demanded.

The doorbell rang. He lifted himself from his recliner and shuffled in his slippers to the foyer. He opened the door to find Curt standing alone.

"Good evening, Mr. Kenworth."

Bob was a bit taken aback; where was Farrah?

"Hello, Curt; what's up?"

The boy's hand reached aside the door, past Bob's vision, and grasped something out of sight, addressing the unseen recipient with a firm voice.

"Come on, Farrah, we talked about this. Don't be difficult. Mr. Kenworth has agreed to help and you agreed to cooperate."

He yanked her over by the arm to stand in Bob's view. She was still dressed in the classroom daywear of a tight blouse and skirt. Her full breasts bobbed and settled from Curt's rough sideways hauling. She pouted, stomped her heel, and whined.

"But I'm not the one who's behind. Why do I need more tutoring?"

Curt's voice was curt.

"It's not for you, baby; it's for me. Just go with the plan, okay?"

Bob watched the interchange of boyfriend and girlfriend coming to a head. Farrah's expression slowly softened and she smirked and winked at Curt. Her hand slid across his jean zipper and her voice took on a sexy smoothness.

"Fine... but you owe me one... big time, big boy."

Curt rolled his eyes.

"Okay... soon."

Curt took her cuddling hand and lifted it to steer her through the door. She stepped over the threshold, pushed forward awkwardly by her boyfriend's boosting hand on her ass. She moved past her math teacher into his home, leaving Bob and Curt to their parting.

"What time should I come back for her, sir? I'll take her back to her dorm. She seems to have plans for me tonight."

Curt's shy grin was endearing but it wasn't to be rewarded.

"No need, son. This will take a while, longer than you may think. I'll drop her off on campus later. Have a nice night."

With that, he firmly closed and locked the door on the bewildered footballer, signaling to him that he would need to take his own affairs in hand, so to speak.

Bob motioned Farrah to the living room, admiring her pert ass swaying ahead of him in her high-heeled stride. She pivoted at room center and stood waiting. Bob warmed inside as he gazed at her elegant beauty. It was time for stage two of his well-practiced strategy.

"Farrah, I'm so glad that you've agreed to help Curt with his grades. He has a bright future and we all want what's best for him and the football team."

"Sure... sure... so when do we start?"

"Right now. He told you what was needed?"

"You're going to teach me some new math tricks to become a better tutor for him."

"That's half correct. I will teach you some new tricks but not in math. If you are an obedient learner and practice what I teach you, Curt will be well motivated to maintain good grades and increase his academic standing for sports."

"If not math, what skills are you going to teach me?"

"Motivational skills."

Bob stepped closer to Farrah and lifted his hands to pluck at her blouse buttons.

She was astounded at his forwardness but took pause, not unfamiliar with the unfolding situation. It was a classic pornographic movie script: the coed got fucked by her teacher in exchange for better grades. It had happened to her before.

But now, she was suddenly cognizant of her role and duties in this alternative fuck for grades bargain. She would be fucked to help her boyfriend get the boosted grades.

She sighed at the age-old scenario and banally surrendered to the indecent deal. So be it; a quickie and then she was out of here.

Bob's unbuttoning fingers were halfway down her chest, beginning to expose her fully packed brassiere and its deep cleavage. She heard his murmurs as he enacted her disrobing.

"So, what have we got here... I knew they were big but... wow... they're really big! D's? Or more?"

She felt Bob tug her shirt tails out of her skirt waistband. She looked down as his fingers plucked the bra's front closure and released the tension pressing her boobs together. This was the well-known moment when the man swept her cups aside and moaned his admiration at the first naked sight of her tits and nipples. And then the cupping and squeezing for a tactile confirmation.

Farrah was proud of her boobs; Curt, and the other men and boyfriends before him, were always mesmerized by them, unrestrained in their handsy gropes. Bob instinctively followed the storied manhandling drill. His palms weighed and squeezed the warm mammary wonders that had been just revealed.

Farrah dismissively spoke the unbidden answer to the habitual unuttered question on every man's mind.

"Yes, they're real. And size 36D."

Bob broke off his reverie and looked higher at her face. She seemed to have acceded to the state of affairs. This was going well.

He shucked off her open shirt and bra and his hands descended to her skirt. A clip and a zip had it open and falling, revealing the high-cut pink thong, camel toe molded to her plush pussy. It was another confirmation of his half-semester-long curiosity about what Farrah's pussy might be like. His man tool was packing his shorts and he needed equal freedom of exposure.

"Now, it's your turn. Undress me."

Farrah hesitated briefly but took up her directed pre-coital function with calm resolve. Bob's shirt and shorts joined her own discarded duds on the floor. She peered at the manhood package bulging his briefs. Her hand cupped his cotton-covered cock and balls as she dwelled on her own naughty thoughts.

'Bigger than I assumed... maybe this won't be so bad.'

Bob let her play a moment and then slipped his fingers under her thong's hip straps, sweeping the minimal fabric over her ass and down her thighs. Her shaved pubis came into view and he sawed a fingertip up and down the fleshy crevasse. He discovered the truth.

Oily moisture! Her mood was building right along with his.

Farrah unconsciously moaned at his intimate touch, another good sign for Bob. She appeared in a rush as she pulled his tighty-whities out and down, exposing his already tumescent cock. Now a natural urge compelled them both to push down and off their own underwear.

He watched as she bent over to finish her last task, her dangling boobs swaying in the act of thong removal. She turned to drop it on the clothes pile but Bob snatched it away, tossing it on the sofa.

"A token to remind me of my time with you."

Farrah shrugged; whatever would get this over with so she could leave. Curt awaited her.

Bob pressed her shoulders and she squatted on her heels but he continued to push. She rolled onto her back on the carpet, letting her thighs fall open as Bob followed her down to kneel between them. He leaned in further and kissed her broad brown nipples, one and then the other. He moved his hips closer to her feminine saddle and his tip touched her digitally explored dewy cunt.

Farrah instinctively twitched at the genital nudge but calmed her unease, cooperating as much as she could by rolling up her Venus mound for a smooth mounting. And with that adjustment, Bob steadied his stance to his knees and elbows and pressed in, sliding halfway and pausing, retreating an inch, and then punching all the way down.

His ears heard Farrah's 'umph' at the swift vaginal invasion. He always liked that feminine reaction to his first incursion. It aroused him further and now his dick happily learned that Farrah's cunt was warm, wet, and snug. He wiggled his hips, stirring his cock head deep inside. She instinctively reacted to that, purring in her throat and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging his body to her big soft tits.

Bob drew back and pushed in again, even deeper, until his pubic pressed hard on hers. Another purr of contentment emerged at the clitoral bump, followed by genital strokes and thrusts that were accompanied by wiggles, waddles, and guttural utterings. Invigorated Bob let one hand tunnel under to cup her ass cheek, the other her neck, and lay his weight atop her. His hips set a reasonable stroke pace, letting Farrah feel the full measure of his long, swollen cock buffing her juicy tunnel while her boobs rolled under his chest.

With a gasp and a cry, he reared back, drove deep, and pelted his fulfilled fantasy's insides with a weeklong pent-up volume of manly elixir. Calling out a final cry of pleasure, he collapsed on her body, panting to regain life-sustaining air and mental lucidity after his terrific orgasm.

Farrah clung to him from underneath as he floated down from his post-ejaculation reverie. She was happy that the quickie was over and she could leave soon.

Bob regained his energy and backed off, kneeling up between her thighs as his hands caressed her tits and nipples. His sticky shaft curved into a lazy arc between his legs. Farrah moved to rise and he let her sit up.

"Okay, Mr. Kenworth. We're finished now and I'll be going."

"Finished? Oh, Farrah, my little fuck bunny, we're just getting started. We have a long weekend ahead of us."

"Weekend!"

"Of course. Did you think I could teach you everything in one session? You have much more to learn."

She scuttled back and attempted to stand but Bob was quicker and loomed over her, blocking her rise, his damp appendage dangling before her face.

"I guess Curt was fuzzy on the details. You'll stay here with me through the weekend, while I teach you the motivational methods that you will use to Curt's benefit... and yours, if you're smart."

Physically forbidding defiance, Bob grasped her upper arm and used his strength to lift her to her heeled feet, stumbling the naked coed toward his master suite. He wavered the march, causing her to stagger sometimes. He just couldn't get enough of watching her loose boobs bouncing and swaying as they proceeded through the house. They arrived at the end of the hallway and he hauled her inside his master bedroom.

"You should get to know this place; most of your training will happen here."

Still gripping her arm, he pushed her to the ensuite bath before releasing his hold. She looked at him with resentment but he ignored her, starting the water running in the garden tub.

"First, a bath... together. You wash me and I'll wash you. We can explore the ways a man and woman can come to know each other's favorite stimulation points."

This was more than Farrah had agreed to but... the fucking from her teacher hadn't been totally unpleasant, just not fulfilling. She was still highly aroused and another session might be tolerable if she could get herself off.

The tub was half full and Bob guided her to enter the water. She daintily stepped over the edge and settled her ass in the sudsy water as Bob joined her.

He used a washcloth to clean her pussy lips, then brushed terrycloth circles over her wet nipples. The nubs and areolae bumps swelled, giving Bob notice that her body was in tune with his brash handling. He dropped the cloth and used his fingertips on her pussy lips, slipping and sliding the digits across her pink swollen tissues. He watched as her eyes widened and dilated. She twerked her hips under the water. He stopped the cunt caresses and she whimpered with mild frustration.

He took her hand and placed it on his cock.

"Me first; always, me first."

She leaned forward and rubbed her hand up and down his shaft, adding a thumb rub up the coronal vee and over the tip slit. She certainly wasn't a stranger to hand jobs. Bob relaxed back and watched her pendulating tits jostle against the bubbly suds as she worked his erection.

God, what a pair of fun-bags! And his private play toys for the weekend. Those thoughts and the look of concentration on Farrah's face brought him to fulfillment and he spilled another dose of sperm onto his weekend playmate's stroking fist.

She released him and relaxed back. She needed her own relief and her hand crept to her submerged cunt. Bob roused himself to respond. He sat up, leaned over, and pushed her hand aside. His fingers rubbed her cunt lips furiously as she opened her mouth and panted in mounting pleasure. Her hands gripped the tub sides as her ass bounced uncontrollably. Then she elevated her hips and held in stiffened back arch as Bob's hand did its work and she blubbered out her long-delayed rapture.

When calm was restored, the pair exited the water and used towels to dry each other. There was no resistance now as Bob led Farrah to his bed and tucked her in under the sheets. He joined her in a loose cuddle and they drifted off to sleep.

During the night, Farrah awoke to find Bob laying atop her, her legs spread and his cock head touching her pussy. He watched her become more fully awake and she willingly spread her thighs wider to accommodate his pose.

"A lesson," he said.

"Okay," she replied.

His hand moved to her nipple and his fingertips capture the nub.

"What is the tenth prime number in sequence, discounting zero?"

Farrah thought this a strange request but went through the math count in her head.

'0, 1, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 23, 29...'

"29"

Bob squeezed hard on her nub. She squealed in pain, shaking her body to release his nipple pinch, but to no avail.

"Wrong... I said discounting zero."

Farrah went through the sequence again, her nipple throbbing in agony, still held in a loose pinch.

'1, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 23, 29, 31...'

"31"

"Good girl; you get a reward."

He released her tit point and pushed his cock at her labia, entering her vagina, and pressing down until he was fully embedded. He held there as she jogged her hips, trying to get some feminine coital stimulus.

"What's the natural logarithm of 1?"

She was good at this number conversion. His mouth descended to her other nipple and his teeth held her nub between them.

"1?"

His bite was harsh and she wiggled again but he held tight, mumbling through the toothy clasp.

"Natural logarithm."

She guessed again. "0?"

She tensed for the hurt but his teeth backed off. It must have been the right answer and she felt her reward as his cock sluiced back and forth in her feminine tunnel. He seemed to tire of the mathematical Q&A and settled into a nice fucking rhythm. She followed his lead and added her own ass rolls and boob wiggles until the inevitable climax brought them simultaneous ecstasies.

Later that morning, Bob lounged outside at his pool. A little earlier, he had lightly rousted his sleepy fuck companion and said he would meet her down at the pool. She protested that she didn't have a swimsuit but he told her there was a selection of one-piece ones in the closet. She could wear anything that fits.