Good Grades

"Please, sit down, Mr. Anderson," Kylie gestured at the two leather armchairs. "I imagine," she continued, after he took a seat, "you know why I called you in my office."

"Yes..." Rob lowered his glance.

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

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

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

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

"Look," she said softly, "I get it. Your interest lies in sports, not academia. I don't blame you, nor did I ask to see you to change your mind."

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

"No; not yet." He raised his eyes hopefully and 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 cleared his throat, "what do I have to do? I mean, training, practice, and working out takes up most of my time, I don't..."

"Mr. Anderson," she interjected, albeit gently, "you knew from the get-go it'd be hard; 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 little harder to convince me?" She leaned back on the desk chair and crossed her—visible from the high slit of her skirt—legs high.

"I'm doing my best," he struggled not to look at her legs, hugged by the thin, black nylon-stocking.

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

His back stiffened and he crossed his legs, trying 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 wasn't entirely certain of what she was doing; her true intention behind calling Rob to her office remained unclear even in her own mind.

On one hand, she did want to talk to him about his grades, 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 wannabe writer-boys that could not tell a pen and their dicks apart, Rob was the ray of sunshine penetrating the grey clouds of a rainy afternoon.

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

"I'll try harder, Mrs. Stevens," he finally said, his lips lightly twitching. "But," he added 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, allowing the skirt to rise even higher.

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

"What do you see?" She smiled.

"A story," he shrugged, feigning apathy; his gaze often dropped to her legs, his turgid member suffocating inside his tight jeans. "Just a story someone felt had to be written."

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

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

"Something caught your attention?" She smirked.

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

He couldn't understand what was going on; he could feel the vibes, yet, he was too scared to let himself believe. 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 said and caressed her thigh, lifting the skirt even higher. "Confidence is a must in academia; without it, you'll go nowhere, even if your ideas are world-changing."

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

"Relax," she got up and fixed her skirt deliberately slow.

He observed her walking slowly to the door to lock it; his eyes scanned her slim figure, her sturdy, round ass which she wiggled oh so lightly and effortlessly, her large breasts barely hidden under the silk shirt. He sat all too rigidly, his hands crossed over his crotch.

"Well," she bit the corner of her lips and placed her hands firmly on the chair's arms, "maybe, you could use some extra hours; help you catch up with the rest of the class."

"That...would...be...great..." he articulated each word carefully, physically incapable of maintaining eye-contact, her breasts 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, swallowed her rest of the question down, when she unbuttoned her shirt.

His jaw dropped to the floor, when she took her shirt and bra off; her breasts—melon-sized, round, and perfectly firm—looked even bigger in contrast to her flat stomach and thin arms.

"What are you so afraid of?" She whispered in his ear, pressing her tits against his torso. "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 caressed his abs.

"I'm just..." he drew deep breaths, both his hands around her waist.

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

Her warm, low laughter in his ear sent a tingling sensation across his body, the hair on his arms standing in attention. He moved his hands under her skirt and groped her ass firmly.

She helped him out of his t-shirt and ran 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. Abruptly overwhelmed with anxiety, he glanced 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 and jerked his pants down, "we did something about that." She winked, then kissed his cock over his tight, black boxers, while humming softly.

He stood up and she got down to her knees, still kissing and rubbing his erect cock over the boxers; she smiled broadly, both outwardly and inwardly, while feeling up the length and thickness of the young prick.

She pulled down his boxers and the imprisoned cock jumped up and slapped her across the face. She softly leaned back and a girlish chuckle escaped her mouth. For a brief moment, she simply stared at the hard, pulsating cock; then, she stroke it, tilting closer to it, running her tongue across the shaft and teasingly sucking the balls.

He held her long, light-brown hair up, and lifted his glance to the ceiling, as her tongue and lips worked on his cock, already causing his lower back to jerk, despite not even having taken it in her mouth yet. He panted, mesmerized by the slurping sounds filling the room.

She took the tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue; looking up, searching for his eyes. She took him deeper down her throat, with one hand massaging his balls and with the other teasing her nipples.

Their gazed met; hers had grown watery. She took him balls deep in, choking herself on his dong, till she had to pull back for a breather, before attacking his cock all over again.

She lifted her skirt up around her waist and rubbed her clit fervently, while sucking Rob deep and hard. He held her head steady with both hands, gradually finding his courage and confidence, and slammed her mouth.

His balls slapped against her jaw and her mascara was ruined by the tears running down her eyes; she fingered herself hard, her whole body shaking.

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

For a moment, he stared aghast, and with mad desire, at her body—now only in garter nylon stockings and high-heel black pumps. 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 chiseled body, enthralled at having the athletic body pressed against hers; she grabbed his throbbing cock. She rubbed and slapped it on her wet pussy; he squeezed her asscheeks and pulled her even closer.

She lifted one leg and he placed it on his shoulder; she helped guide his cock in her soaked pussy. At first slowly, he worked on the thrusts; long, deep, passionate. She buried her face in his shoulder, kissing and biting his neck, breathing heavily directly into his ear.

He intensified his pace, their synchronous moaning growing louder; his balls slapped against her dripping pussy. His knees grew weaker, as he came close to coming; he pulled out and twisted her around.

She grinded her ass against him, her arms wrapped around his neck; he kissed her on the neck, on the cheeks, on the lips. She smiled broadly and reciprocated the kisses. Swiftly, he pushed her forth; she placed her hands on the desk and spread her leg, looking back at him meaningfully.

He pushed his shaft back inside of her; he thrust slower now, more methodical. He spanked her ass and pulled her hair; pacing himself, occasionally stopping the thrusts while balls-deep in her.

She squirmed and bit down her lips, resting her head on the desk and with one hand rubbing her clit.

He lifted her legs off the floor and drilled her, while holding her in the air; she screamed from the abruptness of the move, finding herself in the air, helpless to his will. She held on to the desk, as he put more power behind every thrust.

On the brink of coming, he pulled out; he let her legs go, and she stepped on solid ground again, right before he pulled her up and spun her around. Face to face, he sucked on her tits and bit the erect nipples. She pressed his head closer to her body, imprisoning him between her tits; he sucked and bit and squeezed, while she moaned loudly to the ceiling.

He picked her up and, immediately, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He rammed her hard again, kissing and sucking her neck. Her breasts bounced rhythmically, while he had a firm grip on her buttocks.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips right in his ear, moaning and groaning seductively; her toes curled, her legs grew numb. He slammed her even harder, rocking her body up and down, her tits rubbing against his chest.

Her moans grew heavier, when his cock throbbed deep inside her. He couldn't hold it any longer; he had reached his physical limits.

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

She bit her lips hard and threw her head back, climaxing the moment she felt the first load of cum inside of her; he unloaded a river of hot jizz in her. Finally, he pulled out, panting heavily and all too satisfied.

He put Kylie on the desk; she sat there, legs spread, cunt dripping, looking at him with a wide smile of perfect satisfaction. She pulled him closer and planted a hot, wet kiss on his lips. Then, she bent and kissed his flaccid, dripping shaft.

"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 mimicked her.

"Maybe," she said, after she unlocked the door, "I'll come to the field tonight, to see you after practice."