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“Make sure all of you read the instructions carefully.”
You lazily focus your eyes on the professor standing attentively behind his desk. The semester was nearing the last two weeks of classes. It was the final stretch. The home run of your four year long endeavor to complete your degree plan and leave this miserable hellhole. That was the goal. Until this course.
You thought saving the hardest class for last would be the wisest decision. It didn’t take long for you to soon regret that choice. Sure, most of it was your fault. Procrastination, partying, hangouts, drinking, and everything else you can possibly think of stole most of your time, if not all of it.
So much so, you somehow missed a crucial portion of your syllabus that stated in big bold letters, “All grades are final.” No makeup work or grade adjustments would be offered, and he was pretty adamant on that fact when you went to talk to him the week prior about possibly working with you.
So maybe it was entirely your fault.
Another sigh leaves your deflated chest. You stare at the professor’s long black slacks, and sleek cut turtleneck. His biceps ripple underneath his black shirt as he gestures to the board pointing out vital details for the final project.
Not that you cared. Your grade is so far in the dumps, acing this assignment wouldn’t do crap for redeeming your failing marks.
It really is a shame. You’d been interested in him for a while now.
Something about his cold and harsh demeanor was alluring making it impossible to ignore. He was shrouded in a dark, sophisticated energy that attracted you for some inexplicable reason. His piercing gaze plundered your breath any time he brought those sinister shining orbs of his to you, and weaponized that patronizing smile he seemed to enjoy wearing.
If it wasn’t for that stern attitude of his, he would be undeniably perfect. During your mindless staring, his eyes slowly survey over the vast audience, stopping on you. Your eyes connect for a brief moment halting your spiraling thoughts.
There isn’t much to his expression, except the vivid, almost predatory green glowing hue of his narrowed eyes burning fervently into your bored ones. The simple action tugs on your heart strings, enamored with the intricate color that could seemingly steal anyone’s breath away.
Much to your dismay, his head continues to move over each individual student to make sure everyone understands the gist of his explanation.
“Any questions?” Silence engulfs the room.
“Good. Then I expect this in by next week. Everyone have a great weekend.”
In record speed, people are stashing their belongings in their bags and making their way out the room doors.
This was it. Time to set your plan into motion. Using the momentary chaos of everyone packing up, you power on your phone and quickly tap a few buttons to open up the camera app, prop your phone behind your pencil case, and hit record. You remain seated in your chair eyeing the last of the people trickle out the room leaving just you and him.
The last group of people finally disperse and the room empties. You rise from your chair and begin making your way to the front of the classroom. His head remains engrossed into the textbook on the desk, reviewing the material for the next lecture.
Your hands dust any loose lint off your skirt and readjusts your tight shirt to appear more promiscuous before stopping in front of his desk with an interruptive throat clear.
Without uttering a word, he flips the text book closed with an echoing thud, and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest to look at you. Up close, he was even hotter. If he wasn’t your professor, you’d totally consider hooking up with him long term.
His eyes dance over your captivated face being mesmerized by his. “What’s up?” His deep voice gathers your wondering thoughts, perching a brow at your blank expression.
You lower your head and wrap your arms over your chest to appear pitiful. Huffing out a breath, your face pulls into a somber frown. The saddest thing you can think of helps to glisten your eyes under the white, luminescent bulbs shimmering just enough to be convincing.
“Listen, professor,” your words wobble unsteadily to really sell the act. “I understand you don’t offer opportunities for makeup work. I truly do. I should’ve been more responsible in recalling the due dates. But ple—“
Your voice trails off seeing him raise a singular hand to stop your dramatic speech. He sucks in a sharp breath shaking his head. “As much as I feel for you, and everyone else, you were all given the same opportunity. Had you emailed me sooner, we might have been able to work something out.”
Your fingers tighten, instantly dropping your expression into a scowl. His face doesn’t flinch at all by your predictable reaction.
“Seriously? I’m quite literally begging you at this point and you still won’t reconsider?” He uses two fingers to flick his laptop. “I’m sure you’ve read the syllabus I provided. Next time, you should be more prepared.” Your eyes glower into his lax ones.
Time for plan B.
The empty classroom fills with the sound of your hands abruptly banging the desk, hovering over the textbook. “I’m not going to accept that. You know I won’t accept that.” A small, entertained smile pokes at his lips. Your jaw ticks seeing how calm he is. He was treating your pleading like a simple temper tantrum. As if it was nothing to bat an eye over when your academic performance was in jeopardy.
“I’ll do anything to pass, sir.” Your tone softens, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek. It takes everything to continue holding intense eye contact with him.
Unease brews in the pit of your stomach. He wasn’t taking the bait. At this point, you were running out of bargaining chips. All you could do now was hope he’d pick up what you were laying out.
After an excruciatingly long silence, he exhales a lengthy sigh standing up from the chair. He slides his hands into his pockets, towering over you as you watch him intently. “You should head home.” Every muscle in your body paralyzes with dread.
Defeatedly, you groan slumping on the desk. You’d have to kiss goodbye to your high gpa, possibly your scholarship offers, and your graduation this semester. Wires felt like they were squeezing deathly around your heart, poking through one by one to extract what little hope you may have harbored.
You furrow your brows annoyed, and pull off the table to glare at him properly. “You won’t even give my offer a thought?” His eyes linger on you for a moment before carving into a grin. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking most of the time through that breathtaking poker face he always masked, and now was one of those moments.
His smile did no justice in conveying what he was thinking in that head of his. “Since you’re so passionate about your grade, i’ll help you out just this once.” Your mouth readies to try another string of begs, but falls agape at his change of heart. In some unbelievable twist of fate, you’d somehow manage to persuade him. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest forming a lump in your dry throat.
Luck had finally decided to be on your side. Halfway there until you’d be able to successfully blackmail him.
His hand retracts from his pocket patting down on the wooden desk. “Get on.” Eagerly, your legs bend and carefully climb atop the sturdy thing. His eyes narrow with a tight lipped smile watching you comply without hesitation.
“Lye down on your back and hang your head over the edge for me.” You disregard the odd position and obey like a puppy learning a new trick. Flipping around, you lye down and let your head hang just slightly off the edge of the table with your legs dangling on the other end.
Your eyes momentarily stare at his pants in front of you when he walks off to draw the curtains of the room and flick the lock on the door. His footsteps retreat further into the classroom handling business out of sight before he promptly returns behind the desk with the same tenacious smile on his lips.
“I’m sure you know what to do.” He steps in front of you bringing his crotch to your face. You swallow hardly, forcing down the nervousness rising in your chest. Your hands raise to unbutton the clasp of his pants and fumble around with the zipper. He watches you struggle from your upside down position, until you finally tug the metal down and reveal his boxers underneath.
His clothed arms cross over his chest forcing you to be the one to remove him from his boxers.
Hesitant, you tuck your fingers underneath the waist band and gradually shrug them down. Your eyes flutter in a mixture of disbelief and shock, your forehead creasing in apprehension when you glimpse his large size. It didn’t look comfortable to put in either end of your holes. Even though it was for your grade, you were beginning to have second thoughts.
Wrapping your hand around him, you bring the head to your mouth and pucker your lips to place a kiss. His eyes hone into you, studying the way you run your puckered lips gently up his shaft and trail back down with opened mouth kisses. Your tongue methodically licks the underside feeling each vein line and disappear into his body.
Gathering some spit, you lather it around his penis with your lips. His hips move forward to let you suck on his balls as you use your hand to pump him. Gradually, you feel him stir to life, hardening into a swelling erection under your curled fingers.
Your legs flinch feeling his hand touch your thigh and trail over your short skirt. His fingers sneak under the fabric and brush over your panties, cascading a chill of tingles down your spine as you continue kneading his balls.
He uses a finger to drag the tip of his nail down your slit and runs down your panties dripping with the wet slick of your desire.
“How frivolous,” he chuckles lowly. He caresses your inner thigh, intentionally avoiding your clit. Instead, his hands rub the skin of your trembling legs, teasingly tracing the lace of your tight undergarments.
His hand leaves your skirt and brings his fingers to his mouth to seductively lick his hand clean of your arousal. His legs take a step back pulling away from your suckling lips and angles the tip to your mouth.
Following his lead, you hold your mouth open with your tongue out so he can venture inside, slowly gliding to the back with a hefty breath. Sliding down your tongue and pushing into your throat, he holds his balls to your face shivering softly at the sensation.
“You know,” he speaks slightly disheveled, bending his torso over you to lace your hands in his. His hips pull back and then push forward, dipping into your throat and burying your face in his thighs. “I’m really glad you care about your grades.”
You listen to his words as he relishes in the heavenly thrill tingling his skin each time he plunges down your throat. His hands squeezes yours at the building pressure of his cock throbbing excitedly inside your mouth. A ragged breath escapes his chest when he inches all the way in, submerging his length in your warmth.
He stops moving settling in the depths of your throat. Your brows curl in confusion. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he admits in a lighthearted tone. Your heart skips a beat at his accusatory words. Your stomach turns knowing what he was implying, but hoping he doesn’t say. He chuckles darkly and begins moving again, bulging inside your tightening neck.
“So I took care of that pesky phone for you.” He pulls out leaving just the tip in, and slams his hips forward railing your throat. Your eyes clamp shut from the force.
“As I said, there’s no extra credit.” He reclines again, thrusting forward towards your face with an audible grunt. “But, thank you for offering to let me use your face this once. I’ll be sure to enjoy it,” his tongue swipes over his lips feeling your hands worm around in his.
With his final admission, he stops speaking and begins a slow steady pace thrusting as deep as he can manage down your extended throat. The jutted angle of your neck lets him snake down your entire neck in purposeful slow movements.
His hips press to your face, rubbing your lips around his swollen testicles pulsing with the erotic sensation of your muscles hugging his aching penis.
Resting his head on your stomach, his hips throttle with mini thrusts stroking himself down your mushy muscles. Your eyes remain shut, trying but failing to wriggle your hands from his wrapped tightly in yours. Somehow, you’d been played at your own game. No extra credit and nothing to blackmail him with.
The stupidity of the situation felt so absurd. And yet, you weren’t mad. He duped you fair and square, and it was impossible to be upset with the audible lewd sounds that were spilling out of him like water from a faucet. Your chest warms at the fact he was enjoying himself at the expense of your throat.
His hips buckle, slapping his skin to your lips while he places kisses on your exposed midriff. In a few seconds, your throat is flooded with the warmth of his cum as he rocks himself forward with a lengthy moan falling from his mouth.
He pumps himself with your lips making sure to empty everything down your throat for you to swallow. His hands offer a reassuring squeeze whilst he jerks down your esophagus, drunk on the intoxicating fumes of pleasure clouding his mind.
The table squeaks under you with each thrust pushing your head against the edge. You swallow his cum down letting him paint your throat with his semen drenching your passageway.
Your tongue swirls around his rough skin encouraging him to serve you everything he’s got. “Fuck,” he breaths out a sharp grunt, pulsating in your mouth with shallow breaths. He slows down to hold your face to him, shuddering each time the muscles in your throat sucks him in.
He stands up flushed, with a domineering smirk plastered on his face. He admires your lips pursed tightly around him.
His eyes close, inhaling a fulfilling breath to let the ephemeral orgasm rush throughout his body still spasming with his cock nested deep in your throat. Teasingly, he settles himself fully down your neck to block you from speaking.
“I’ll be seeing you in class next semester, my love,” he whispers in a satiated deep voice.
He rubs your cheek with his thumb, chuckling at your reddening flustered face.
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