Let’s do a little role-playing… I’ll be the teacher. You need a better grade. You didn’t bother to study because you knew from the way my eyes linger on you in class that I want you, won’t be able to resist. You could come in for office hours…
You pull your shirt tight, and I can see you aren’t wearing a bra. Your nipples are hard, showing through the white fabric. Locking the door behind you, you saunter into the classroom, biting your lip, pouting, making sure I can see the hungry look in your eyes.
‘Professor,’ you say, crossing the classroom to stand by my desk. Close enough to me for me to feel how warm you are. Definitely closer than is appropriate for teacher and student. ‘I need to talk to you about my grade.’
Your voice is already husky, low, suggestive. I gulp nervously. I can’t help it. You’re my student, and I’m having thoughts I know I shouldn’t. ‘You’re failing my class,’ I say. ‘Your attendance has been spotty, you didn’t turn in the last three assignments, and you failed the final.’