A cute little goth girl was in danger of failing the college class I was teaching. She offered to suck me off in exchange for a passing grade. Instead, I made her learn the value of hard work, responsibility, and self-respect. And then, yeah, I fucked the shit out of all her holes. [MF]

“I love sucking cock,” Morgan told me, leaning forward over my desk, her pale tits almost spilling out of her black tank top. “I love feeling it pump into my mouth, and I love gagging on it. But eating pussy is even better. Especially if it’s a girl who’s never been eaten out by another girl—that’s the best.”

“Be that as it may,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, trying to do anything I could to relieve some of the pressure my jeans were exerting on my rapidly hardening cock. “You still haven’t told me when you’ll finish editing your midterm paper.”

Morgan sat back and pouted.

“Seriously? All that and you’re still obsessed with my paper?”

~

Allow me to offer some context for this scene.

In my first year out of graduate school, I was a Visiting Assistant Professor (or a VAP, if you will—how Dracula would pronounce WAP!) at a small liberal arts college. I was teaching three courses a semester, which was quite a bit of work, but here I was, living the tweed jacket dream of college teaching.

[MF] I’m a college professor and during the first few weeks of the Pandemic, one of my students needed a place to stay. She insisted on paying me back with her body, and I started off by whipping her ass, fucking it, and making her my sex slave.

Geeta arched her back and let out a groan–one so loud, I was sure the rest of the neighborhood would hear her. Her asshole, virgin until a few moments ago, stretched lewdly around my cock. Her moans became hoarse and then, strangled–sobs of pain and pleasure.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she whimpered. My hands slid down her body, slick with sweat, gripping her breasts and then her tits as I drove into her tightness.

“This is how I’m going to pay rent, right?”

~

All right. Let me back up.

Before you think this was actually some sort of anal-for-housing arrangement (2022, am I right?), allow me to offer some context.

My first semester teaching at a certain prestigious girls-only liberal arts college was autumn 2019. I was remarkably optimistic back then: I had just finished my dissertation, I had found a tenure track job in my field, and, residual Trumpism aside, it seemed like the ghosts of 2016 might finally be fading. How wrong I was, obviously.