By two, the office was all cleaned up and my graduate teaching assistant, Spiros, was gone, leaving me spent of sexual tension, if only for an hour or two. I had quite an appetite for graduate students.
The two o'clock was going to be a chore, however. One of my students had turned in a paper early, which wasn't like him, and when I started to check it over, I found that he'd badly plagiarized nearly everything in it. This had dismayed me, not only because Pete was one of the stars of the football team, which was set to play its biggest game of the year three weeks from now, just about the time this scandal would become public, but also because he was beautiful in a way that had made my cock ache to be inside him ever since he'd showed up to my class. I had thought he was a Jamaican with his looks that were so ruggedly handsome and his skin that was chocolate laced with milk brown, but I soon came to learn from things he'd said in class that he was from a mixed-race family. He always showed up to class, as athletes are prone to do, in sloppy gym clothes that left little doubt about his musculature and how well his basket was filled out. And his butt cheeks were bulbous. I could hardly keep my hands off him.
And now I was going to have to do something that might get him expelled and might tick the alumni off at me.
He entered my office and both my heart and my dick took a leap. He was beautiful, as always, wearing those tight shorts and that school sweat shirt with the arms cut out to show off the mountainous curves of his biceps. He was carrying a folder under his arm. The veins of his biceps and arms bulged out, being pushed out to the surface by his heavily develop muscles. The arm and neck holes were cut down enough that a profusion of black, curly hair spilled out in profusion. His long, black, curly hair was tied off in a pony tail.
He sat down in the chair next to my desk, very close to me, putting his folder on my desk, and gave me a grin that was all white teeth. His eyes were hazel green. What a contrast in parentage. Big, powerful knees were pointed at me, bisecting big muscled thighs and firm calves, all covered with a black, curly down. He was wearing open sandals, and he had big, long feet, with long sensuous toes, dark brown, with a tinge of pink under them. I wondered if what they said about big feet on a man was true.
But I got right to business, trying to ignore the yearning in my crotch. "I've read the paper you turned in, Pete."
"And did you like it? I worked very hard to get it in early," Pete said, giving me another of his big grins.
"I liked it when I first read what you had put in it, Pete. But that was when someone else had written it. Some of this is straight out of our textbook."
The grin faded a bit. "We have to practice hard, Professor. The UNC game is coming up. This is important for the school."
"I'm quite aware of all of the ramifications of this, Pete. It would have been well if you had been. I understand what this could mean for the school, particularly financially, but you are here, first, to learn. And I am here to see that you learn properly. What are we going to do with you now, Pete?"
Pete gave me a perplexed look, but that slowly changed into a mischievous grin look.
"Well, I'm sure we could come to some accommodation, Professor," he said in a low voice. His big, beefy hands reached out and settled on the top of my tightly closed thighs. I'm sure he could feel my legs trembling through the thin material of my pants. My legs felt like jelly, and I didn't resist when the hands went between them and pulled them apart.
"I know your assistant, Spiros, pretty well. In fact, you might say I know him biblically."
One of his hands had moved up to cup my basket. "Ummm," he said, letting his breath out slowly and widening his grin. "And Spiros didn't lie about you. You do seem interested in accommodating me. That would be one word for it." He laughed at that.
"Pete, this isn't solving your problem," I said weakly.
