tagMatureGood Grades

Good Grades


"Please, sit down, Mr. Anderson," Kylie nodded at the two leather chairs. "I imagine," she continued, after he had sat down, "you know why I called you in my office."

"Yes..." Rob lowered his eyes.

"Very well," she cleared her throat. "So, anything in particular I should know?"

"Not really, Mrs. Stevens, I..." he paused; "the training is really intense, and..."

"Yes, Mr. Anderson, I know," she sighed heavily. "You are not the first athlete that takes my class. You thought it'd just be some easy credits, right?"

"No, of course not, I..." he protested, vainly.

"Look," she told him softly, "I get it. Your interest lies in the sport, not academia. I don't blame you, nor did I call you here to change your mind."

"You're flunking me..." Rob said solemnly.

"No; not yet." He raised his eyes hopefully, she offered him a broad, warm smile. "It's still early in the term, Mr. Anderson; however," she pointed her index finger at him, "you need to make some changes, if you want to pass."

"Mrs. Stevens, I..." he said, "what do I have to do? I mean, training and working out takes up most of my time, I don't..."

"Mr. Anderson," she interrupted him, albeit gently, "you knew from the start it'd be tough; that's not an excuse."

"Yes, I know," he apologized. "It's just... I can't fail, you know? I just..."

"Why don't you try a bit harder to convince me?" She leaned back and crossed her leg high, her slit skirt rose.

"I'm doing my best," he tried hard to keep his gaze away from her leg, and the thin, black nylon-stocking hugging it tightly.

"Do you?" She raised her eyebrow and her lips curled. "I don't think you've ever even read one of the stories I assigned to the class. Not one," she leaned forth, placing both arms on the desk, purposefully squeezing her breasts that struggled inside her shirt.

He sat straighter up, crossed his legs, and tried to fix his jeans without being noticed.

Kylie did notice; her smile widened momentarily, then she leaned closer to the desk, her breasts resting on her crossed arms. She did not know what she was doing, exactly; her intentions, when she called Rob to her office, were unclear to her own self.

On the one hand, she did want to talk to him about his grade, his effort (or lack thereof), and to help him improve and not flunk her class. On the other hand, in a classroom filled with liberal arts freshmen, mainly young girls and literary wannabe writer-boys that could not tell between a pen and their dick, Rob was the ray of bright light penetrating the grey clouds of a rainy afternoon.

Tall, athletic, handsome, and with kind eyes, he was the one towards whom her eyes constantly moved during her lectures; and, besides, she did enjoy the way he was looking at her, with a lustful concentration that gave away it was not in her words he was interested.

"I'll try harder, Mrs. Stevens," he finally said, in a shaky voice. "But," he continued after a long pause, "I might need some help. I just don't understand some of the things we talk about in class."

"Like what?" She leaned back, kicked her leg high and crossed it, letting the skirt be lifted even higher.

"I've heard you talk about allegories, metaphors, meanings... I just don't see any of that, when I read a story."

"What do you see?" She smiled.

"A story," he shrugged his shoulders, fainting apathy; his gaze often fell down to her leg, his hard cock struggling inside the tight jeans. "Just a story someone felt it had to be written."

"Well," she licked her lips, "you could have a point there; nevertheless, you have to learn to read a story through different lenses, analyze it. If," she pointed out, "you want to pass my class."

He wiped the sweat off his forehead, when she uncrossed her legs and kept them open; he stared, helplessly, at the garter hugging her thigh and her exposed cunt.

"Something caught your attention?" She asked smilingly.

"No, I'm... sorry, didn't mean to..." he apologized hurriedly, stumbling on his words.

He couldn't understand what was really happening; he could feel the vibes, yet, he was too scared to believe it. Besides, she was a respected professor and he was just a freshman; would he risk punishment, or even being expelled, for some faint signs?

"Don't apologize," she told him, running her finger up her thigh, lifting the skirt even higher. "Confidence is a must in academia; without it, you'll go nowhere, even if your ideas can change the world."

"Right, yes," he nodded confused. "I'm just..."

"Relax," she got up, fixed her skirt slowly.

He watched her walking slowly to the door to lock it; his eyes observed the slim figure, the sturdy, round ass, the large breasts under the silk shirt. He was sitting rigidly, his hands crossed over his crotch.

"Well," she bit the corner of her lips as she bent over to face him, placing her hands firmly on the chair's handles, "maybe, you could use some extra hours of teaching; to catch up with the rest of the class."

"That...would...be...great..." he said slowly, incapable anymore to maintain eye-contact, her breasts—clearly visible through the cleavage of the shirt—were right in his face.

"You're very easily distracted, aren't you?" She chuckled warmly. "Perhaps, we should work on that first!"

"What do..." He started, but, he stopped as soon as she unbuttoned her shirt.

His jaw dropped, when she got out of her shirt and bra; her breasts were melon-sized, round, and perfectly firm, looking even bigger in contrast to her flat stomach and thin arms.

"What are you so afraid of?" She whispered in his ear, leaning close, her tits pressed against his body. "I'd imagine a jock like you would have all the girls at his feet..."

"I..." he swallowed down hard, reluctantly touching her waist.

"Is it simply because I'm your professor, or, are you waiting for the one true love?" She bit his earlobe and her hand slipped under his t-shirt, her fingers running across his abs.

"I'm just..." he was breathing heavily, both his hands now around her waist, holding her steadily.

"Not sure what's happening? I thought you were smart enough!"

Her warm, low laughter in his ear caused a tingling through his body, the hair on his arms stood in attention. His hands went under her skirt and grabbed, firmly, her ass, squeezing tightly.

She helped him out of his shirt, then lowered her head, running her lips softly across his chest and stomach, licking his toned muscles, and staring directly into his eyes.

He pulled her hair up, with one hand caressing her back and shoulder blades, feeling her soft, moisturized skin on his fingertips. Suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety, he stared about; all blinds were drawn down, the door had been locked. She planted a kiss down south, low on his stomach, and he smiled idiotically.

She unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them; "was about time," she said as she pulled his pants down, "we did something about that." She winked at him, then kissed his cock over his tight, black boxers, humming pleasantly.

He got up and she was down to her knees, still kissing and rubbing his erect cock over the boxers; she was smiling, both outwardly and inwardly, as she felt the length and thickness of the young prick.

She lowered his boxers fast, the imprisoned cock placed on the side jumped up and slapped her across the face. She leaned backwards, then a chuckle escaped her mouth. For a moment she simply looked at the hard, pulsing cock; then, she stroke it gently, leaning closer to it, licking both it and the swollen, clean-shaved balls.

He was holding her long, light brown hair up, staring at the ceiling as her tongue and lips worked on his cock, already bringing him close to an orgasm, despite not even having taken it in her mouth yet. Rob was panting, the slurping sounds music to his ears.

She took him in her mouth, first keeping only the tip in her mouth, her tongue moving in circular fashion around it; her glance fixed upwards, searching for his. She took him deeper down her throat, with one hand playing with his balls and with the other twisting and rubbing her nipples.

His eyes met hers; they were watery from gagging on his cock. She took him all the way in, kept him there for as long as she could; then, she'd pull back to draw a breath, before attacking his cock all over again.

She lifted her skirt to her waist and reached down to her pussy; she rubbed her clit furiously, still sucking Rob deep and hard. He held her head steady with both hands, gradually finding his courage and confidence, and began thrusting his cock down her throat fast.

His balls slapped against her jaw, her eyes were teary, her mascara running; she was finger-fucking her wet cunt, her body shaking.

He rubbed his cock over her face, she took his balls in her mouth and sucked them good; suddenly, she got up and slid out of her skirt.

For a moment he remained aghast, staring in mad desire at her body—now dressed only in garter nylon stockings and high-heeled black pumps. Then, he took her in his arms, fondling her ass, caressing her thighs; their lips met in a fiery kiss, their tongues engaged in a wild, primitive dance.

She ran her hands across his muscled body, drawing immense joy from having the athletic body pressed against hers; she reached down south, grabbed his throbbing cock. She rubbed it and slapped it against her wet pussy; he squeezed her ass cheeks hard, pulling her closer to him.

She raised one leg, he grabbed it and held it high; she aided his cock inside of her. At first slowly, he worked on the thrusts; long, deep, passionate. Her face was buried in his shoulder, kissing and biting his neck, breathing heavily straight into his ear.

He intensified the penetration, their moaning grew louder; his balls slapped against her dripping pussy hard. He was about to cum, his knees were growing weaker; he pulled out, turned her around.

She grinded her ass up against him, her arms wrapped around his neck; he kissed her on the neck, on the cheeks, on the lips. She smiled broadly, returning the kisses. Abruptly, he bent her over; her hands on the desk, she spread her legs and looked at him meaningfully.

In he went once more, having been able to restrain himself from exploding so early; the penetration was slower now, more methodical. He slapped her ass, pulled her hair; pacing himself, sometimes stopping the thrusts while balls-deep inside of her.

She writhed and trembled, her head resting on the desk and with one hand reached down to her clit, rubbing hard.

He swooped her legs up and continued to fuck her, holding her in the air; she screamed from the suddenness of the move, finding herself almost hanging in the air, helpless to his will. She held on to the desk, as he put more strength behind every thrust.

Almost ready to cum once more, he pulled out; her feet back on the floor, he picked her up, turned her around. They were face to face, he sucked on her tits, bit the erect nipples. She pressed his head closer to her body, keeping him imprisoned between her tits; he sucked and bit and squeezed, she moaned loudly.

He picked her up; immediately, she wrapped her legs around his waist. In he went and began pounding her hard again, kissing and sucking her neck. Her breasts juggled rhythmically with the pounding; he held her from the ass, spreading the cheeks.

Her arms went around his neck, her lips on his ear, moaning and groaning seductively; her toes curled, her legs grew numb. He put more power behind each thrust, taking the cock all the way out, leaving only the tip inside, then pushing it all back in, balls slapping against her all-wet and dripping cunt.

Her moans grew heavier; he remained deep inside of her, his cock throbbed and pulsated. He couldn't hold it any longer; he had overcome his own limits.

"Yes, yes," she whispered in his ear passionately, "fill me up, baby. I'm cumming, too..."

She bit her lips hard, climaxing the moment the first load of sperm was dumped inside of her; he came and came, unloading a river of hot jizz in her. Finally, he was done and pulled out.

He put Kylie on the desk; she sat there, legs spread, cunt dripping, looking at him completely satisfied and exhausted. She pulled him towards her, planted a hot, wet kiss on his lips. Then, she bent over and kissed his softening cock.

"I hope you..." he began saying, but, she hurriedly placed her finger on his lips.

"Don't..." she shook her head with a smile. "Keep it up, though, and you'll soon be getting straight A's!"

"It wasn't..."

"Don't talk," she scolded him.

She got up, quickly got dressed. He did the same.

"Maybe," she told him, after she had unlocked the door and grabbed the knob, "I'll come to the field tonight, to see you after practice."

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