It’s the last day of my freshman year. Grades are due today, and I partied way too hard on my eighteenth birthday during finals week.. yeah, I graduated early. I’m smart AND hot. Unfortunately, this means I’m about to fail my first year of college and lose my scholarship.
My boyfriend is John, he’s a fifth, maybe sixth year senior. Whatever, he’s older than me. A lot older.. he said hi to me after I used my fake ID at the local bar. We started talking, then fucking, and here we are now. He says I need to go talk to my professor and that he’ll go with me.
John knows I’m a slut for him. What he doesn’t know is I’m just…a slut for anyone. I don’t think he has any idea what I have in mind to get my grades back up to par and he’s a jealous asshole sometimes, so he’s going to hate it. John wants me to talk to my professor, let him know the circumstances, come up with a fake dead relative story, he’ll even pose as my father or somebody. I want to fuck my way into passing, and I’m going to fuck my way into passing.
Office hours start in three hours. John is going to meet me there, so I start getting ready in my dorm room. I lucked out this year, my roommate never showed so I have an entire dorm room to myself! So much sex has gone on in here and I never have to wear clothes.
Naked, I straighten my hair while dancing to my favorite radio station. Hips swaying, I start getting myself ready for the dick I’ll be taking. Straight, my hair reaches down past my breasts. It feels good on my nipples, making them firm up a little. I always shave smooth, but I do a once over again to make sure there’s not a single hair on my whole body.
I go over to the bed with my lotion and begin rubbing it on everywhere. My tan skin cools with its hydration. I start on my feet, toes painted white, and work my way up. I pay close attention to my thighs and around my pussy. Tummy, with its shiny, sparkling piercing next followed by a pit stop to massage my chest. I then work on my neck.
Soft and smooth, I bend over and pull open the bottom drawer of my dresser. It’s where I keep all my fun clothes! I find exactly what I was looking for, the stereotype. A short plaid skirt that barely covers my ass (I do a lot of squats, okay?). I shimmy that up my long legs before sliding my feet into a pair of black heeled boots. I rummage around my apartment for a good shirt to wear, settling on a white button down. Obviously, no bra or panties for this mission.
I know I can’t walk across campus like this though, so I put on a big hoodie. Campus police are everywhere and I can’t risk getting busted for lewdness or something. John is going to meet me there in 20 minutes, so I take the campus shuttle across and arrive at the building. I take a deep breath before walking up the stairs and inside.
I find John in the atrium and he kisses me, grabbing my ass a little. He compliments the perfume I put on just for this occasion. It’s also his favorite. He whispers in my ear what that perfume means for us tonight. We walk down the hall together, hand in hand finding my professor’s office.
Professor Samwell sits behind a large oak desk. That’s what you get when you’re the chair of the English department. I failed his final the worst. He says hello and makes us have a seat. I’m in one leather chair, John next to me in the other. John introduces himself, says he’s here for emotional support. I remind Professor Samwell which class I’m in, and stand up to let him know why I’m here.
I walk while I exaggerate my hips swaying behind my chair, hands with long, coffin-shaped nails on them, white like my toes. I face away from the men and close the door, whilst removing my oversized, baggie, Billie Eilish style hoodie. It reveals the outfit of someone desperate for a good grade, who will do anything, even in front of their own boyfriend for the ability to pass their first year of college.
Professor Samwell and John are both equally shocked. Professor Samwell stands, and I can already see an arousal in his pants. He demands I relax and ask what this is all about. John starts angrily questioning me. I tell them both to shut up. That John is going to sit there like a good boy. That Professor Samwell is going to pass me and that he can have the best pussy of his life.
English teachers are easy. They tend to be liberal and free-spirited anyways. They’re all old hippies. In an instant, Professor Samwell agrees. My boyfriend, though, doesn’t. He curses at me, which I ignore as I undo the belt buckle from around Professor Samwell’s khakis. I drop to my knees as his old cock pops out with an erection. I wrap my smooth, barely legal hands around it’s shaft and study harder than I ever have.
John hears me gag as I make Professor Samwell’s thick teacher dick wet and slippery. It’s perfect for a young pussy like mine. John’s jaw is dropped. He knows what this mouth feels like, what this tongue on the balls does to a man. I can see that John is horrified, but also aroused. His pants are tighter than when we walked in.
I stand up and bend over the mighty oak desk, reminiscent of the cock of the professor who sits behind it. Firm, sturdy, aged. I shake my ass as I feel himself line up for my pussy before entering with a gasp as I moan. No matter how much John and I fuck, I’m still always so tight.
Professor Samwell begins to pump. It’s not fast, he’s a bit old for that, but the slow rhythm feels nice for me. This is the best way to pass a class I think. I lock eyes with John, whispering a thank you to him from across the room.
Professor Samwell swells before a warmth fills me. No condoms were necessary, he’s too old for children. I sit back down next to John and grab his hand. Professor Samwell leaks out of me and onto the brown leather. It’s quite the contrast.
I rub myself. I ask Professor Samwell what grade I got for the semester. He says any other day, it would be a A- but because John was there, I got an A+! He said he loves to show the young ones how to fuck. I chuckle.
John laughs, says he’s not young, says he knows how to fuck and that he taught me everything I just used on him. Professor Samwell sits back in his office chair, cock still out, softening up but thick as ever and laughs again. He wonders aloud why I would choose to fuck for my grades if John fucked me so good.
Like I said, John thinks I’m his slut. I’m my own slut.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/x4c5h5/ill_do_anything_to_pass_teacherstudent_mmf_cuckold