"Well, there is something you can do," I said.
"What? I'll do anything!" she responded, naΓ―ve to what I was asking. "I'm desperate. If I don't get at least a D in this class, I won't graduate."
"Points-wise, you can't possibly get a D. You've missed too many assignments. But, sometimes, students in similar situations take it upon themselves to do some extra work... to impress me."
"Like what?" she asked, still not getting it.
"Sometimes, when students are struggling in class, we can find some work outside of the classroom that you can do to make up for it. It's really up to the student, though. She has to be willing to go the extra mile do what needs to be done."
Michaella just stared at me, finally starting to grasp what I was suggesting. "Dr. Thomas, are you saying what I think you're saying?"
I stood up and walked around my desk to her. She was going to say yes, even if she didn't know it yet. They always say yes when graduation is on the line and this one was particularly obvious from the start. She walked into my office in a little, brown dress that showed just a little bit of cleavage and a lot of leg. She gave me some story about heading to a social after but it was obvious what she was doing. I spend half my day having hot little students like Michaela try to use their bodies to get what they want.
Fine, if she wanted to use her body to get a better grade, I was going to help her.
I put my hands on her shoulders. I could feel her tense up. "Michaella, what you're asking for his a really big deal. I have 45 students who did the work they needed to do to earn the grade they deserve. Why should just give you a better grade if you aren't willing to work for it?"
She turned her head, looked up at me, and said her voice shaking a little bit, "I am willing to work for it. Just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it."
"Good," I responded as I shut the door to my office. It was late and no one was around but I wanted to ensure privacy.
I turned back to her. She looked up at me, nervously. I put my hands on her face, gently, and said, "Relax, Michaella, you know what to do."
She reached for my belt and started undoing my pants. As she unzipped me, my cock started to poke out through my fly. She reached for it, took it and, nervously, started to stroke it. I could feel her hands trembling, as she stroked my shaft. She looked up at me, licked her hand and continued to stroke me a little faster. It felt good... but a handjob wasn't going to be enough.
She could barely make eye-contact with me as she continued to jerk me off, getting faster and faster.
I placed my hand on her cheek again, bent forward and whispered to her, "Michaella, this feels incredible."
She smiled, nervously, and continued to try and get me off.