I Need The Grades

It was dark outside, and it had started to rain. Against my better wishes, I was still here, still at the desk, still marking, still wired about deadlines and pressure and whether or not the team wanted me here at all. This was all bullshit of course, things in my head, ideas that grow on their own when you spend too much time working beside people but not with them.

But I still reveled in the classroom, I loved seeing the way that students responded, to have a laugh with them and even support some of them through challenging experiences. Now and again you would get to know them a little bit better than teacher to student. But most of the time not. They were mostly young, mostly slightly intimidated, and primarily focused on one another, grades, or just getting out of the room.

There were some, though, who took the time to ask you how your weekend was, who hung around for just a moment longer than required to say hello and connect, which was lovely. Sometimes I wondered who these humans were, who were they when they were at home relaxed on the couch? Who were they when they went out on a Thursday night? And who were they when they curled up in bed? There was one in particular that I wondered about more often than others, sometimes straying for longer in wondering who she was when she slipped out of her clothes, who was she when she was alone, with nobody to see her?

This student was not like the others, let's be honest, uni students are mostly young and appropriately dumb for their age. This one was my age, back at uni, because she wanted to keep learning, keep trying new things. She would ask great questions, but then also ask questions that made me notice her, as a human, as a person of interest, a person I would like to get to know more. But this was little more than a vivid imagination; the moments of connection were so fleeting, squeezed between classes, in glances overinterpreted and slight grazing of hands that are so easily misinterpreted as something they may not be. It didn't hurt that she was hot and seemed to know it.

She wore skirts with splits at the sides, and tops that would show off her midriff. She always seemed to sit close to where I was sitting, and I could be imagining it, but I could almost feel her watching me when I was talking to other students or busy with other things. But again, imagination, wishful thinking, wow, what the brain can concoct when it wants to.

She struggled, though, and I know she really wanted better marks, and she would get there eventually, but it was going to take time. Every time she submitted something, she would come to me and ask for advice, trying desperately to improve her grades. She was improving for sure, but I had done the maths and I knew that in order to get into the course she wanted to get into, she was going to be short of points. I had done everything I could, the university system was just shit like this, she was so close and she was going to be devastated when I told her what her grade was going to be. Which is why I had stayed back, to meet with her, to break the news to her gently, plus this was the only time our diaries aligned.

I heard a shuffle of bags and papers at the door, a pause and then a gentle knock, this must be her. Finally, everyone else had gone home, and while I usually looked forward to spending time with her, this was unlikely to be one of those lovely moments. So the sooner I got home the better. Come in, I shouted. She poked her head around the door with a smile, was I just imagining it, or was she dressed particularly well tonight, surely just my mind. But wow. That skirt, those legs, oh dear. This just made it even harder.

She came in, closed the door behind her as if we were discussing something super important and took a seat in the chair opposite my desk. You could tell she had a vague idea that this was not going to be a particularly fun meeting, but you could also see her effort in trying to make small talk, to smile and laugh. She asked about my weekend and what I did for fun, as if trying to stall the inevitable. But there was something about her, something about the way that she sat, the way that she looked at me, the way that she walked her fingers up and down her thigh. It was captivating.

I was just about to break the bad news to her, "your grades" I started, but she cut me off with a weird combination of vulnerability and strength. "I've done the maths" she said, and I have a faint suspicion that I am not going to get the grade I need, I know that is what this meeting is about. How close was I?" she follows. How embarrassing, now I have to admit that it was only 1% short. "Wow, that is so close, I can't believe the university system won't accept that. I worked so hard, and you gave me so much help, you were fantastic, she clarified. Surely there is something that can be done.

She paused at that point, looked at me with a ferocity that I wondered whether I might be reading into it, but a lingering desire almost. She just waited, silent, looking at me, straight into my eyes. But then her eyes moved down as if looking at my whole body, all of me, slowly, lingeringly running her eyes from my face, to my neck, to my arms, and chest, all the way down to the tip of my toes and back up again. Normally, I am not short for words, but in this moment, I was stunned, but enjoying the attention. I did not want it to stop.

Finally, she smiled a full-bodied smile, the kind of smile you have when you know you have solved a problem. "I've always admired you," she said. At first, I went to say thank you, thinking immediately of my teaching and academic work, but she cut me off. No, I've admired the energy you bring to the room, I've admired your voice, the graze of your hand, the shape of your body, and the way that you move through the classroom. In fact, for a while, I have wondered what it would feel like to be here, having this conversation, in this moment. Fuck, I couldn't help myself, I smiled at her, a big full confident smile, I looked at her, really looked at her, I brazenly allowed my gaze to run straight from her face to her cleavage, mmm.. then further down, those legs, I swear that split in her skirt seems to have opened up just a little further for me.

She smiled back, she knew, she knew she knew. "Tell me what you've wondered" I asked. Leaning back in my chair, consuming the view of her in my office, in my space, on my time. "I've wondered what it would be like to run my hands through your hair" she said and paused, waiting for some kind of nod of approval, which I gave, I've wondered what it would be like to undo the buttons on your shirt and run my hands over your chest, to hold you close to me. She stopped at this point, adjusting her skirt, opening the split wider so that I could see a hint of the pink knickers she was wearing.

She leant forward, intentionally showing more of her cleavage, then she opened her mouth again, paused and said, I've wondered what it would be like, to suck your cock, and fuck you in your office. Then she leant back and crossed her arms, with a smirk. I swear she knew that she was making me hard. I shuffled in my seat to make room for myself, to allow for the inevitable. She just sat there, not a word, just a smirk, just waited and said nothing more. It felt like an eternity that I wanted to simultaneously end and never stop. I knew where this was going; there was no question. This student was mine to play with.

I stood up, moved the door, and checked that it was locked; it already was. I turned off the bright lights and flicked on the corner light. I closed the curtains, not saying a word, not looking at her, but knowing full well that her eyes did not leave me for a second. I stood, directly in front of her as she sat, she didn't move, arms crossed, still smirking, but I swear she was moving in her seat a little more than before. "You are to do exactly as I say, when I say. You can leave whenever you wish, but if you stay, you must do as I say".

Fuck that felt good to say, to demand her obedience, and service, but what felt even better was the gentle, submissive, "yes sir" that followed. I sat back down, cleared my desk of papers slowly, methodically. I then turned to her and told her to stand up, turn around and take her knickers off and hand them to me. To face the wall, and hand them to me without looking in my direction. She stood, the smile left her face, replaced with a concentrated but ravenous obedience that captivated me. She faced the wall and gently slid her hands up the split of her skirt and slipped her knickers off.

She stayed facing the wall and handed them back to me. I took them from her and brought them to my face, totally captivated and excited by the intimacy of holding my student's knickers, being able to smell her faintly, of knowing that she knew, that I wanted them and that she gave them too me obediently, even hungrily. "turn around" she turned to face me, smiled when she saw I was holding her knickers to my face. I wanted to draw this out, to go slow, to revel in every sensation, in the newness of seeing things I hadn't seen, of tasting things I hadn't tasted, of being touched in ways I hadn't been touched by her. I told her to sit on my desk, she did, but coyly, legs covered, on the edge of the desk.

I sat down in my chair facing her. "No, not like that, I want you to sit right up on the desk, with your back against the wall, I want your feet on the desk, and I expect that you open your legs for me. Show me yourself" She obeyed. Scooting back, letting her skirt fall aside, putting aside any pretense of coyness, she looked me in the eyes, then opened her legs to me. Fuck it was gorgeous, the most beautiful pussy, I wanted it, I was so hard at this point, it took everything in me not to take her straight away.

Now, I want you to answer some questions, and if you answer honestly, you might get what you want. Have you ever fantasised about me, sexually? "Yes, sir" she said in a low, breathy voice. "Have you ever fingered yourself while fantasizing about me? "Yes, sir" you could hear the strain in her voice, the hunger, the desire to be seen in her fantasy. I wanted to see it, experience it, and be present for it. And she was mine, so I could ask for what I wanted. Show me how you play with yourself.

She didn't hesitate at all, her fingers gently rubbing her beautiful pussy. Fuck she was hot, the way she moved, the way she rolled her hips, the way she managed to get lost in the fantasy even though I was right there. "have you ever fantasised about me going down on you? Fuck this was such a self-interested question, I didn't really care whether she had fantasised about that, but fuck I was hungry to taste her. Who can blame me. "Yes!" she said with a surprising enthusiasm.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I leant forward and ran kisses up her thigh, slowly, gently to her pubic bone. I could feel her hips pushing against me, begging for more, but I ran kisses down her other thigh, teasing her, smiling at what I knew was likely driving her nuts. Finally, I gently slowly lay my tongue at the bottom of her pussy, so gently, it was almost as if I wasn't touching, slowly slowly running my tongue up her pussy and stopping just short, then starting at the bottom of her pussy again. I did this a number of times and could feel her intensity growing every time. moaning, thank fuck there was no one around, I loved the sound of her pleasure.

Finally, I drew my tongue right to the top of her pussy, she moaned in pleasure, arched her back without a care about who heard, I pleasured her for what felt like forever and also felt like nowhere near long enough, her body had slid from a sitting position to laying on my desk, her legs had gone from partially constrained and closed to wide open, and her pussy had gone from beautiful and closed to wet, engorged and wide open, fuck this woman was hot.

As I took a pause, she smiled at me, with a dreamy pleased look. "May I speak sir" she said, her top much more open than before. "yes, what would you like to say?" I was by no means done with this beautiful woman, but there was no harm in letting her say something. "that was incredible" she said, I haven't felt that pleasured in a long time". "But" she said, "about my grade?".

Fucking hell this woman had cheek, for a moment I thought this was just about pleasure and desire, but no, she knew exactly what she fucking wanted, and wasn't about to let romance get in the way. Let's face it, I was going to bump the grade up, but there was no way in hell I was going to let her off easily. She continued. "about my grade, it has been lovely having your gorgeous face fuck my pussy like that, and I am extremely grateful, but I hardly imagine that my receiving this is going to get my grade bumped up...." She paused for effect, as if she was going to say something else.

Still, there was no way in hell I was going to let this hot woman lead the way on this. She was mine. I cut her off, "oh you are going to have to work a lot harder for a better grade, miss. In fact, it is about time you started working." Get on your knees. She obeyed instantly, again slipping back into that beautiful submissive space I had seen hints of before. "Take off your top, and your bra, I want to see those gorgeous breasts you have been flaunting" she did so, quickly and quietly and without ceremony. "you have been flirting with me for quite some time, haven't you miss. "Yes sir" she said, with a hint of smile, but not so much. "Now to bump up that grade, you are going to have to do an exceptional job of sucking my cock." She looked pleased, glancing from my eyes to my crotch and back again. "Yes sir, with pleasure sir, now sir?" "Yes now, I said abruptly, fuck I was hard, I desperately wanted this, I was throbbing with desire.

She stayed on her knees, undid my belt quickly, not just opening it, but removing it with a desirous vigour entirely from my pants, putting it aside on the chair. She opened my fly, reached in placing her hand on my cock and smiled. It would not have been difficult to find, that's for sure. I swear my erection was throbbing visibly through my pants from the moment this gorgeous woman adjusted the split in her skirt.

She pulled my cock out of my pants, leaving the top button done up, just pulling my cock and balls out. She placed her tongue at the base of my cock, licking ever so slowly up the shaft, pausing slowly at the tip, it was as if she was visibly hungry for me, you could see her licking hungrily, holding my balls gently with one hand and my cock in the other as she licked the full length of my cock, it was everything I could do, not to cum.

Finally, she took me into her mouth, hungrily sliding those beautiful lips over my cock, up and down. I was writhing in pleasure, my eyes struggling to stay open but desperately wanting to take in the absolute beauty of who this woman is while she sucked me off. I pushed into her, against her, rolling my hips in pleasure. Placed my hand on the back of her head and neck, guiding her onto me, gently, rhythmically. I could hear her moans, and the sucking noise. It was as if this woman wanted to eat me, to consume my cum to own me.

Fuck, this moment was incredible, I was entirely lost to the experience. The office ceased to exist, the stress ceased to exist, and for a moment, I felt like we ceased to exist. It was almost as if we were one big ball of energy, where there was no separation between us, just this ravenous, hungry desire.

I could not take any more of this. This woman was incredible; there was no question that she completely earned her grade. We slowed for a moment; my heart was beating so fast. She took her mouth off my cock and looked up at me, waiting, wanting. "you did a magnificent job of that, you most certainly can have that grade" she smiled.

For a moment, I wondered whether the smile was about the grade, but I doubt it; she knew who she was and what she offered the moment she walked through the door. She smiled, knowing that she had done a good job, that I had enjoyed what she gave me, and it was the satisfaction of having succeeded that I saw in her face. And fuck that was hot.

I was so hard, and throbbing and desiring so much more, but wanted to pause. I wanted to know that she knew she could walk away and that if there were a next chapter, it would be entirely by choice. Obedience, yes, but not for a grade, or a lecturer, or some kind of power trip, but because that obedience turned her on. I sat in the one comfortable lounge chair I had in the office. My cock out, my shirt disheveled but with a big, satisfied grin on my face.

She turned to me and smiled a big open smile. "Thank you", she said. And for a moment, I thought that she was thanking me for the change in her grade, but then she continued. "Thank you for fulfilling some of my fantasies". She stopped for a moment and laughed, not with me, but at me. A big wholehearted laugh. "what" I said. "You do know that university policy states that grades that are only 1% below a cutoff actually have to be bumped up...." Fuck, the cheeky fucker, this gorgeous student played me totally. Here I was, having the smallest guilty feeling about getting a blow job to change a grade, and she knew very well that no grade change was required. I laughed, we both laughed.

She stood at that point, just in her skirt, breasts looking amazing in the light of the corner lamp, and she danced for me. Slowly, intentionally, sensually. She moved her hands to the knot in her skirt and slowly, yet intentionally, undid it, allowing the skirt to fall to the floor. She continued to dance, moving that beautiful bum in a way that few could, and moving closer and closer to me as I sat entranced by her movement.

She came up to me, peeled off my shirt, and ran her hands across my chest like she mentioned previously, slowly, intentionally. She undid the button of my slacks and slid them down, stripping me naked. I sat and watched her move her body closer and closer to mine as she danced, brushing her hands first against my skin, then draping an arm over my shoulder, her legs touching mine, and moving closer and closer. She turned around, showing me her bum, rolling her hips as if fucking me in her mind, moving lower and lower towards, me, grazing my throbbing cock so slightly but the feeling was electric.

She turned, and placed her knees by my thighs straddling me, I could feel her pussy nudging against my cock, it was wet and swollen, I could still taste her. Her hips rolled against me and mine against her, pushing passionately against one another.

We kissed, which was a special moment. It was the first, which seems out of order, but also seemed just right. A moment of intimacy marking the beginning of something new. As we kissed I could feel her hand reach down to my cock, I could feel her place my cock at the entrance to her wet pussy, I could feel her push against me, and I could feel myself slide into her. She felt so good to be inside, to fill, to hold, to own for a moment. I pushed myself deeply into her; it felt incredible to have this gorgeous woman in my arms.

I stood and lifted her with me. Her body wrapped around mine as I stayed deeply inside her, pushing against her, writhing. I sat her beautiful bum on the desk and pushed her back, holding her arms above her head, tightly. She writhed and wriggled but submitted. I held her arms with one hand and ran my other over her breasts and body, clawing and groping at her hungrily as she rolled her hips into mine with increasing intensity. I pushed against her, running my fingers against her clit, gently, again and again as she pushed into me.

Her moans came louder and faster as her back arched in pleasure, her head was back. I thrust into her deeply again and again as she came, fuck that sound was hot, the sound of her pleasure, the sound of her cumming the sound of her whimpers and moans.