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She bit her lip. Fingers caressing the doorway to my office, yoga pants contouring the firm muscles of her cross country legs, and a button down shirt with just one too many undone. "I know the paper was due today, but could you help me with mine?" I invited her in. My officemate had just left for class, the same class that I should be getting off to, but I had a couple minutes. Like graduate students the world over, I teach an introductory course, have office hours for students to avoid until the last minute (or in this case, after the last minute), and genuinely enjoy helping students out one on one. This student (Jessica), though, was a bit of a problem. She had been intentionally distracting from the first day. At the time, I didn’t have a girlfriend, and on the first day during the "getting to know you" activity we’re encouraged to do, Jessica immediately asked me if I was single. She had a gaggle of friends she sat with, all apparently signing up for the same introductory course (as juniors and seniors) so they could blow it off together. The friends were fellow athletes, mainly girls, and all giggled at the boldness of their friend asking their teacher about his love life. I was used to personal questions from students, I even encouraged them, and it would have been fine had this been the end of it. But from that class on, Jessica toyed with me, to the amusement of her friends and fellow classmates. My university is small, so like most of the athletes, Jessica didn’t fit the big-school stereotype of the stupid athlete: she had always excelled at school just as she had at sports. It was clear, too, because of her confidence. Is there anything sexier than a confident woman? That confidence translated to how she looked and dressed: her clothes tended to be those tight athletic-wear in the usually fluorescent colors. Sports bra underneath, making it not clear what the size of her breasts were, but clearly big enough to occasionally push some cleavage out. Yoga pants were typical, but the occasional jeans showed off this ass that just moved in 3d. Each cheek would roll back and forth as she walked. God damn. Not to say that I’d been noticing her or anything. Okay, well, maybe I have. In fact, maybe she had been the number one transaction for my spank bank for that semester. But I have a solid amount of self control, I know the rules on behavior with students, so I just assumed it would continue to be a fantasy. I’m short, soft-spoken, and somewhat nerdy. Curly hair, 130 lbs, and 5’8". When it comes to women, my main draw is just being a nice guy. Which is to say that I wasn’t rolling in the pussy. But about a year ago, I started doing the recommended routine on 1s4SKhnr/bodyweightfitness and my prospects have been looking brighter. I’ve added a lot of muscle mass to my previously lean runner’s body. I can tell from the mirror and the scale, but also from the increased attention. Women will laugh a little more at my jokes, if they can hear them; they’ll keep up a playful texting for a little bit longer; and they’ll even smile a little bit when they catch me staring at them. Tinder has been working well for me. I’m no sex god, but I get it at least once every two months, which is far more than what it used to be. Thank you 1s4SKhnr/bodyweightfitness. But back to Jessica. And back to her in my office asking for help on an assignment I now found out she didn’t do at all. She’s still standing, I’m sitting in my chair trying not to stare at the tilt of her hip bone peeking out from underneath her shirt. "So yeah, I haven’t really done the paper. I know "You do remember that the syllabus explains you cannot get an A without doing each of the papers on time, right?" "Yeah, I wanted to talk with you about that" She walked closer towards me, hips swaying from side to side each step. I tried not staring. "Is there anything I can do," she licked her lips, "for you to just forget about that rule? Just this once?" I hadn’t noticed until now, but she had closed the door ever so slightly to where it was just barely still open. I’m still sitting in my chair, probably with my mouth wide open, as this seductress of my fantasies is saying exactly what I’ve imagined her saying over and over. Way more seconds than is appropriate passed before I got a jolt of realization: I have a minute before needing to get to my graduate class. A minute wasn’t a problem, the class was in the same building as my office; the problem was what to do about Jessica. You know those times when you realize you are in like a first-person game where you are the one that controls your every move? I had that, realizing that I could shut this door, push this student against the wall as I grip the band of her thong and yoga pants and rip them down her legs, shove her in front of my desk, and watch my dick slide in and out of her, I’m sure, wet pussy. But I also realized that I was just a couple months away from graduating. I’ve been the most successful graduate student-teacher at my school. My thesis is almost done and there’s talk of my university offering to publish it in a longer form. If I fuck a student, the word will get out, and I will lose all of this good will. And it’s just wrong: I understand why student relationships aren’t allowed: there’s a power dynamic that is just not acceptable. But fuck, I wanted her so bad. And now I realized ten seconds have gone by without me doing anything besides not taking my eyes off that hip bone. She stepped even closer to me, she’s now standing over my legs, as she leans down and rests her hands on either armrest of my chair. "What’s the matter? Do you not want to fuck me?" The way she said fuck told me that this girl doesn’t make-love or have sex, she fucks. I came to my senses. I pushed my chair back away from her, crossed my legs, and explained, "I’m sorry for any misunderstanding. As your teacher, I cannot have any kind of unprofessional relationship with you. Your paper is going to count as a zero and there will be no way for you to get an A in this class. I’m going to be late for my class and I need you to leave." "That’s cute how you’re getting angry," she said, as she shifted her weight, "but I hate to break it to you, I’m not offering to fuck you. I can’t risk my athletic scholarship. What I am offering is a way for me to get an A and a way for you to take care of that." She pointed to the situation she had made in between my legs. "Look, you really need to leave. And I’m going to have to report this to..." "Christine, get in here and shut the door," she said authoritatively. The door opened and a woman the same age as Jessica slid in as she shut the door behind her. Where Jessica was long legged and slim, Christine was shorter and curvier. The ass was about the same. I think she played for the softball team. What really stands out in my memory, though, were the most perfect pair of dick sucking lips. My god. Jessica hadn’t taken her eyes off of me. "I can’t offer myself to you, but I can offer my girlfriend. I want you to fuck her brains out and you’re going to fucking give me that A." I immediately realized the genius of the loophole Jessica made. I didn’t question it, but I didn’t know what to do. I was confused, until I saw Christine give a loving peck on Jessica’s cheek. I must have had an even more confused look on my face, because Jessica explained, "Yeah. I like girls, but she likes both. And I like to make her happy. Now close your eyes, professor." I did what I was fucking told. I felt hands sliding my jeans and briefs off. Immediately, the warmest lips I’ve ever felt slid up and down my dick. Christine shivered as she wrapped her hand around my cock, "Oh, Jess, I love you so much," as she engulfed me again. 1J2AhKM missourisummer 1JRY6aX 1JRY6aX