I didn’t know what I wanted out of college but my family pressured me to go anyway. The one thing I was sure if was that I was hot and I was tired of boys my age. So I said fuck it, and day one I straight up flirted with my professors, wearing short skirts and cock-teasingly tight tops and hinting heavily at the possibilities open to them. I ended up sleeping with over a dozen of them plus a few visiting lecturers and guest speakers, including some I didn’t even have classes with. I didn’t do it for grades because I didn’t care about grades, but that didn’t stop many of them from giving me top marks anyway. And you know what? I probably learned a more from dates and pillow talk than I would’ve if I’d paid attention in their classes (which I usually skipped anyway).
I fucked them in offices, cars, hotels, bedrooms. Some were single, some weren’t. I didn’t give a shit about the ethics of it and I figured their professional and personal risks were their concern. Still, I was surprised how easy it was—turns out a middle-aged man, when presented with a 8.5/10 half his age offering him anal and blowjobs, is basically unable to say no. In their eyes, my tight, willing body was a gift from god, and to me that felt powerful, hot, and fun.
Anyway, lockdown happened during my second semester, classes went remote, and school got suddenly very boring for me—it got much harder for these guys to sneak out for a few hours of play once they were working from home, although I had some dirty fun over zoom. I realized college wasn’t for me, not yet anyway, and told my parents I was going to decide (and pay) for my own future. Still, I don’t regret my year as a hot little college slut.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wuh1rp/f_during_my_one_year_as_a_college_student_i_18f