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."