BAGGAGE & BULLSHIT

H A R D  L E S S O N S

INSTALLMENT: ?

~~~BAGGAGE & BULLSHIT~~~

                         

"All My Friends Know A Low Rider..."

 


           

Another Start...

         The last week before Spring Break was always hectic.  Actually, chaotic was more accurate; students were pressed between the demands of studying for exams and planning out their long-awaited escapes to someplace hot, even tropical, overflowing with the seasonal influx of beautiful bodies eager to party.  Derek Andrews wondered quietly to himself by what percentile did the exam scores suffer because of how thoughts of Spring Break adventures distracted the students. Ten percent?  Twenty?  More...?  It was a topic he and some of his fellow professors discussed and considered at length. 

         Whatever the factor, one thing had been proved during his recently finalized tenure at the university and that was that some students were willing to do practically anything to prevent a bad grade.  They seemed nearly phobic about the prospect of having their precious GPAs take a nose dive over low exam scores.  Before 'Break, he'd both been told and seen for himself that anxiety was even worse in person.  That in mind, he'd found out--- tipped by another professor near the close of his first year--- that this was the sexual equivalent of hunting season, a time where fear of failure made female students incredibly receptive to what he referred to as "alternative credit".

         He ran a broad hand through his wavy black hair and exhaled, he had been at the university just under four years but he'd been enjoying the unwritten perks of the teaching position since the start.  This campus was large and the student body had an incredibly broad cross-section of ethnicities and backgrounds.  Eager young minds, tight young bodies, it was an open candy store for the right man and he definitely considered himself that.  Enjoying this time of year almost as much as the students, he watched happily as winter clothing gave way to skimpier, more revealing summer attire, with the urges of mating season tangibly "in the air".  Walking across campus between classes he loved watching them go here and there; Derek appreciated the luscious young scenery in all its gloriously diverse flavors...

         Smiling, Derek shifted slightly in his chair and leaned back again.  Looking down, he stared at the upturned face of one of his freshman European History students.  There, squatting between his thighs, her soft, red hair tumbling forward in waves that framed her creamy-skinned, lightly freckled face was Heather Carmichael.  Head bobbing forward and back in a measured rhythm she was devouring him hungrily. 
         
         Her green eyes were bright with lust as she stared at her professor, loving the effect she knew she was having on him as well as the effect he always had on her.  With the small, milky slopes of her breasts pulled free from her bra her nipples were brushing against his tanned legs and growing thicker by the moment.  It was almost funny, she might have been truly pissed off by this whole situation--- this "sexual blackmail"--- if she didn't have it so BAD for Professor Andrews.  He was so fucking HOT!  All her girlfriends agreed but none of them--- at least not that she knew of--- had been bold enough to try anything.  Heather had never been short on bravado and she'd been a joy to look at since she'd been young so sexual confidence had blossomed in her both naturally and early.  Armed with that, she had--- whenever a man was involved--- always been able to get what she wanted.  For the past week what she'd wanted, what she'd been doing daily, was being here half-naked in this small office, sucking her Professor with a whore's finesse.

         Mouth gliding forward along his fat, uncircumcised cock, she pushed his foreskin back, baring the plum-colored head to her tongue.  The more she sucked, the more he moaned and the more he moaned the louder and more aggressive she got.  Dropping a hand to the top of her head, he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled, forcing her mouth farther and farther down until--- gagging--- she pulled away,her nostrils flaring for air.  Eyes watering she steadied herself and resumed taking him once more to the back of her throat.

         "Mmmmnnnh...  Miss Carmichael, Damn if you don't get better every time."  Heather could only slurp and groan as her professor fed her more of his dick.  She clenched his nuts tight just to feel the way it made the head of his dick swell in her mouth. 

         "Sapristi..." Derek hissed.  "With this kind of work ethic, you should be on the Dean's List."

         Heather pulled back off his dick, rolling the naked head on her tongue before smiling up at him, her lips wet, dripping.  "I know I could work harder if you gave me a chance; I can do anything--- ANYTHING--- I set my mind to, my Mother taught me that."

         As she watched him in that way Derek imagined cats watched mice, she moved one of her hands up from his balls to jack his dick with a slow, twisting motion that moved the fleshy sleeve of his foreskin up and over the head then back down, her eyes fixed on his, watching closely for the signs of how good she was making him feel.

         "Playing games with me now, Heather...?"

         Heather swallowed and hesitated for a moment before continuing stroking the heavy shaft in her hand.  "Uhm, no, Sir.  No, I... I didn't...  I mean I wasn't---"

         "Shhhhh, you were bound to try.  A nice, beautiful young girl like you, a family with money; you've been spoiled, you're used to getting things your way.  I understand how that is but you see," Derek said, edging forward, "in this instance, girl, YOU are the toy." 

         Trapped in the rising intensity of his stare, Heather knelt and listened in silence, her hands working on their own, not daring to stop the attentive massaging for fear he would kick her out the minute he wasn't pleased.  All thoughts of controlling this man vanished like a desert mirage.

         "This... this may have always been easy for you, Heather, but you see I'm not like these boys on campus.  I'm a man, Heather, and you, you're just a very, very sexy girl with a lot to learn.  Say it."
         
         "I...  I'm still just a girl and I have so many things to learn, Sir."

         "Right.  Now tell the truth, you thought with your frequent visits to my office and the things I allowed you to do you were in some way special?  Perhaps even unique?"

         Heather continued squeezing the professor's shaft in silence but his words were burning right through her.  She wasn't accustomed to feeling shamed or subordinate but she stayed where she was, stroking and listening.

         "I knew it.  You got to the school, first time away from home, and didn't know what you wanted to get into first.  As it sank in that you really are away from home--- your parents, your family, old friends--- and that nobody you knew, no one with an opinion that matters, can see what you do or who you do it with, you decided to try ME." Derek's laugh was laced with an almost pitying tone.  "Your mind was spinning, out of nowhere you got that wild, crazy itch in your pussy for something you've never had.  Something new, something...different."

         Heather's silence was confession enough.

         "You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you Heather?" he asked, watching her intently.  "After all, you're holding it right now, there in your hand.  You like the feel of that, don't you...?  Pretty thick, isn't it?  Is it as big as you imagined?  Bigger, perhaps...?  And the foreskin... you seem to enjoy teasing it, exploring it."  Derek grinned knowingly and leaned back again, enjoying Heather's caress and the idea that he had seen through her.  "Perhaps before last week you even spent some sleepless nights thinking about me, the young professor from an entirely different country.  About my big, Sicilian dick splitting that trust fund pussy of yours in half while cursing you in a language you don't understand."

         Heather shuddered, a quiver that started in her pussy and fanned outward: the blunt truth of his words was undeniable.  How could he possibly know her that well? 
Was she really such an obvious stereotype?  Apparently, Derek had seen her for who and what she was; for him it had never been in doubt.  She was caught, busted, completely at his mercy.  It seemed like a time to be apprehensive; with the tables turned, she had no clue what was coming next but oddly she wasn't afraid. 

         Not even a little.  She was still locked to his glossy pole, one soft hand stroking while his balls shifted and tumbled in the grip of her other.  She didn't want to let go, she didn't want to stop, and sucking him, she decided, would now only be the start.  Her pussy was already oozing and she hadn't even--- HE hadn't even--- touched it. 

         His dark eyes fixing her with a stare that burned into and then through her, all she could do was keep serving him as he---

         EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT!  EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT!  EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT! 

         "Wha...? What the..."

         EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT!  EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT!  EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT! 

         "Where...Heather?  Heather...?"

         EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT!  EHHHHRRRRRRNNNT!  EHHHHRR---CLIKT.

         Derek dragged his hand from the silenced alarm clock and rolled back onto his bed.  No.  Not Heather, not sex in his office.  The dream, it had been the damned dream.

         Again.

         Scratching his fleshy middle he blinked, staring up at the ceiling.  He was still breathing heavy, still sweating, like all the other times before.  He blinked again then looked over at the clock.  The alarm had been set for six because he had a meeting scheduled.  He didn't want to go but he had to, some shit had hit the fan and he needed to tidy it up.  Fuck, he would give anything to be back in the dream--- back in Heather--- again but the alarm had killed that.  Besides, any more and he was going to be late.

         "Seize the goddamn day," he muttered, rising from the mess he had made of his bed.  "Seize the goddamn day..."
 



 

                                                         

<<<<  "I Got 99 Problems But A Bitch Ain't One..."  >>>>

         “You do understand this is highly…irregular; we have certain protocols in place for very specific reasons, Mr. Simms.”

         “Very specific reasons somewhere along the lines of men coaching female athletes being a ‘can’t keep the hands out of the cookie jar’ scenario, am I right Dean Janson?”

         Beside him, Derek cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.  Guy definitely had balls, fucking with the Dean in his first year.  She didn't seem overly impressed.

         Louise Janson sat behind her broad, cherry-stained oak desk and stared at the man seated across from her.  Nothing on the polished surface was out of place, her office was the same.  Or rather it had been, until this meeting.

         Finger tapping idly against the rim of her eyeglasses, she considered his proposal in silence.  Her school had almost complete parity between male and female athletic programs but one discriminatory point had remained consistent over the years: males coached male teams, females coached female teams.  This year, unexpectedly, the girl’s lacrosse coach had resigned at a point so close to the season’s beginning that an adequate search for another woman to replace her was impossible.  The newly placed Assistant coach had no coaching experience, this was to be her first year with a team and, desperate as the school was they weren't that desperate. 

         Yet. 

         And now, here was Alex Simms, junior staff Chemistry professor asking--- demanding, actually--- the coaching position.  Fresh into his first year on the faculty and already he was in her office attempting to rock the boat, practically daring her to refuse him on the basis of his sex.  Alex Simms... cocky bastard.

         “Remind me again about your qualifications for coach, Mr. Simms,” she said finally, unhappy even to have to entertain the idea.

         Alex smiled, smoothing his slacks as he crossed his legs before  meeting the Dean’s stare head-on.  “You probably have forgotten, but I attended college on an athletic scholarship to one of the few universities I was interested in that was offering them for lacrosse players.  After two years playing in high school I played all four years in college as a starter, and in those seasons we made division finals twice."

         “Ah,” she began, no longer tapping her glasses.  “I saw athletic scholarship in your files and had assumed---“

         “Assumed what, basketball or football?  Track, maybe?”

         “Well, in point of fact, yes, basketball.  I mean with your build…”

         “Yesss, with my build and my color basketball was first pick but no, ever since I learned the game I’ve loved lacrosse.  I was definitely a minority in the division though.”

         “I imagine you were, but this isn’t about race, Mr. Simms, not at all.”

         “No, Dean Janson, for once I'm sure it isn't.  Like I said, your problem is with the idea of temptation.  Be it mine, or theirs."

         "You also have no coaching experience, collegiate or otherwise aside from being on a college team."

         "College-level coaching, no.  I did, however coach a girl's teen summer league for three years.  We went undefeated two out of those three seasons.  I believe I have an understanding of  both the game and the dynamics of coaching.”

         The Dean sighed, her protests were becoming less and less easy to mount.

         "Fair enough, if it disturbs you that much, give me the job purely as a temporary posting.  Probational until we see how the season goes.  In addition, assign a female chaperon that can be a watchdog for all this…impropriety you’re so concerned about.”

         “Temporary goes without saying, and there was already going to be not one but two female chaperons assigned.  Not to mention Bethany, the Assistant coach.”

         "Right, the assistant coach with no experience who you can't give this job to with any prayer of having your girls be competitive.  No problem, everybody has to learn, we'll all be students in this together."

         Damn him...






                                                                                    

INTERLUDE: 1

                                                                             

"Fucking Up"

         
         "Yeah, can you believe it?  He's such a prick I can't believe I let him fuck me in my ass.  What...?  Yes, remember?  I told you we did it last month, for his birthday.  I wanted to give him something special, you know?  What...?  Hell YES it HURT, I told you how big he is...  The bastard, hope his fuckin' dick falls off the next time he sticks it in that old bitch." 

         Jessie kicked back on her couch, sighing as she paused in her story and listening to her girlfriend's reaction to the scoop she'd just laid on her.  It wasn't an enjoyable story, not even a little, it was a story detailing how her boyfriend had gotten a taste for fucking his English Lit professor.  As far as Jessie knew, this was the first time he'd ever cheated on her in their fifteen month relationship, but that wasn't what had her stewing.  No, what was really getting to her was that she was seemingly losing out to an older woman.  How the FUCK had that happened...?
 
         Oscar was a starting fullback for the school's football team who would--- even if he never got the Heiseman--- be high up on the NFL's most-wanted lists.  He was handsome, smart, and a grade-A hunk of meat by most every other standard too.  Jessie, Georgia born and raised, didn't give two shits that he was dark as a Hershey bar because he--- and his dick--- had always been just as sweet, but now...  Well, now he'd fucked her over and things were different.  Her best friend Angie, who had been chattering away about how wrong this was had now switched over to talking about all the different things Jessie could do to get back at Oscar.  Oddly, angry as Jessie was, none of it really sounded worth the effort.  Besides, she was mad but underneath it, if push came to shove she just wanted Oscar back with her, doing what he did best--- aside from plowing over other football players like they weren't even there, that is---and that was plowing her pussy.

         And making her feel beautiful, he really went out of his way to do that, too...

         Jessie giggled, laughing at Angie; she was getting plain silly now.  "No, I'm not cutting his dick off!  Damn, girl, you're so stupid!"  She stretched one shapely leg out in front of her, pointing her toes, making her calf flex.  Oscar loved her legs and playing field hockey had kept them nice and toned.  Recalling that made her think of the way his big hands felt sliding along her thighs.  Made her forget about being angry, about fighting.  Made her--- made her pussy--- very, very slippery.

         Love was stupidity, stupidity was Love, and lust was never far behind...

         "Uh-huh.  Yeah, whatever, you just need to quit talking trash," she said trying to put her mind back into the conversation and into being pissed.  "I can wish bad shit on him all I want but girl I know I don't mean it. Oscar knew how to handle me, I just want him back again and his professor can go find something else to stuff her raggedy pussy with." 

         A knock at the door made Jessie sit up suddenly.  "Who is it?" she shouted.

         "Baby, it's me... it's Oscar.  Come on, Jess, let's talk."

         Jessie let his deep voice echo a while as she made him wait for her answer then she shouted back.  "Ohhhhhh no you don't think I'm letting your ass in here after what you did!  Fuck that, why don't you go study some more of that senior citizen pussy?  Go pump her in her WALKER!"

         "Jess, please...  This is embarrassing."

         "Embarrassed?  You want to know what 'embarrassed' is?  Embarrassed is having your boyfriend decide some old heifer is sexier than you, that's embarrassing, asshole!"

         "Jess, it wasn't like that.  Baby come on, let me just explain."  As his voice faded, Jessie let silence be her reply, besides she was almost at a boil and considering shooting his dumb ass if she'd had a gun.  The quiet lasted, Oscar apparently had given up, and Jessie slowly brought the phone back to her ear. 

         "Sorry girl.  Yeah, it was him, trying that 'let me explain' crap.  I am so pissed off right now...  He just doesn't realize how lucky he is that I didn't open that door.  Huh...?  I don't care, I have a baseball bat under my bed, I could've took him---wait, that's my other line, hold on."  Pressing her flash button, Jessie clicked over to her second line without really wondering who it might be.  When Oscar's voice greeted her, a cut-in via his cell phone, she couldn't even say anything.  That didn't last long.

         "Baby..." he began, but that was as far as he got before she exploded.

         "You bastard!  Don't come up in here calling me 'baby' and trying to act like it's all good!  You know your ass is so wrong, you fucked your teacher and didn't even try to be sneaky about it.  Your boys knew and I bet that bitch told her friends too, bragging about how she got your Mandingo ass all up in her!"

         "Hey, fuck this shit!" Oscar shouted, cutting in again.  "Mandingo is half a step off from calling me 'nigger' and if I remember right, you seemed to love every bit of me before so how did I get to be a nigger now?  You know what, never mind, I don't give a damn about your answer cuz now you just fucked up.  I tried apologizing but I don't need to be out in this damn hall sweatin' you like your ass is platinum.  I'm out."  The line went dead as Oscar hung up and Jessie sat there in her room, swallowed by that new silence, not knowing what to do or how to feel. 

         Pressing the flash button again she wasn't surprised to find Angie still holding on, faithful as ever.  As soon as Jessie clicked over, Angie could tell something big had happened; big, and it wasn't good.  She decided to start off with the obvious question and hopefully make it easier for Jess to talk about it.

         "So, who was it?"  Angie asked, waiting quietly for the answer.  Jessie didn't speak right up but when she did, Angie understood the mood change.

         "It was him, it was Oscar.  He used his cell; I should have known...I shouldn't have answered.  Dammit, now everythings messed up."  Jessie laid back, feet up on the wall, eyes moist as she started detailing all of what had just happened.  It sounded to Angie like this was going to be one of those nights where being a girlfriend was going to cover the entire deal, might even end up somewhere doing shooters or eating ice cream.  Oh well, however it worked out, whichever way it went, Angie was always going to be there for her girl...



                                                                               

<<    <>    >>

         Hitting the quad like he were headed for the goal line, Oscar was as focused and immovable as a roaring freight train.  Getting lost in the shadows of the tree-lined parking lot outside Jessie's dormitory, he headed for his car.  His teeth clenched, his broad, angular jaw flexing, Oscar was without doubt really, really pissed.  Tapping his electronic key, the lights of his silver Nissan X-Terra flashed as the doors unlocked.  Climbing into the SUV, Oscar slammed one broad hand hard against the rim of the steering wheel as he pulled his door shut. 

         "Fuck!"

         Jamming the key into the ignition, he started the truck up.  This wasn't supposed to be this way, he thought, shifting into second and screeching out of the lot.  He was smart, talented, and yes, he was black.  His culture, his heritage, these had been things his parents and grandparents had always been strong on schooling him in, making sure he was well-grounded when the time came to be out on his own in a society that was full of sectors not keen on seeing him succeed.  But Oscar had his own opinions, not that he didn't respect what he'd been taught, just that today--- and the future--- carried with it so much more diversity than past times that opportunities just couldn't be restrained.

         Oscar had always appreciated opportunities.  The earliest sign of his more..."flexible" mindset was the first time he consciously chose to accept the attentions of a girl outside his race.  It wasn't an easy experience; his parents had been shocked, her parents had wanted to ship her back to Korea.

         Crazy, it was only fifth grade and they'd only kissed and held hands walking home half a dozen times but still everyone went ballistic.  Kim, delicate with her dark eyes, long black hair and a voice as soft and gentle as her smile was, as Oscar remembered, beautiful.  She was also obedient.  When her Father expressed his disapproval of the "relationship" she quickly broke it off with Oscar and they never talked again.  But from that point on, Oscar had come to the realization that girls---and later on, women---would come in all flavors and there was no reason to ignore the strawberry, vanilla, or butter pecan to only eat the chocolate.  Ice cream sundaes had the variety of multiple flavors, no reason that wisdom shouldn't be applied to his outlook on relationships.

         Well, that's what he'd thought, anyway.  But now, after all this time, here was the bullshit flaring up like his family had always said it would.  On and on they'd told him about how shallow the smiles were, about how careful he needed to be and most of all that the safest and best route was to "keep to his own" altogether.  His father had even pulled him aside before he'd left for college and had a talk about how dangerous---yeah, he'd actually used the word "dangerous"---it could be for him being so high profile and rolling around having sex with other kinds of women, white women in particular.  He'd told him to be careful, to be smart, and to keep his eyes and ears open.  Well he trusted his Father more than ever now because his ears had just heard words from the mouth of a girl he'd been dating for eight months, words that made his blood boil. 

         "Mandingo" she had called him.  What was up with that?  And what was worse, it had come to her so quickly, so easily; like it was something that had been on a standby menu all along just waiting for a chance to get used.  He thought he had gotten to know Jessie well, very well, and this had made him wonder now about what he really knew.  "Mandingo", just another word for nigger; a word that showed the opinion that black was far below white, just another animal in their stable.  Yeah, this really was fucked up.

         Steering off campus, Oscar shifted to fifth and aimed his truck toward the city.  He pressed one button and the moon roof tilted open, another button turned on his stereo, filling the heretofore silent interior with the instrumental and vocal energy of Earth, Wind & Fire singing "Fantasy".  Trying to open his head up, he shrugged off the night's confrontation and slowly began singing along, his truck fading into the distance...




           

<<<<"...That's What I Used To Do, Uuussse And Abuse Them." >>>>

         "Mmmnh, now isn't this better than arguing?"  Elizabeth asked.  Dragging her tongue cat-like along her lips she leaned backward, her ass settling down on the heels of her bare feet.   

         "Yeah," Oscar replied, voice distant.

         His dick--- glistening and sloppy with her spit---was clenched in her pale fist, her green eyes fixed on his hazel ones.  She was squatting between Oscar's muscular thighs, smiling up at him, short-stroking his shaft and waiting patiently for her efforts to inspire him.  He had come to her to talk about what had happened, about how he felt used and how things with his silly little girlfriend were all "messed up" now because he'd taken her up on an offer along with another guy from her class and fucked her to get a "free" A on the mid-term exam. 

         Children, she thought, cradling the pulsing length of his dick in her palm, they just didn't appreciate good things when they had them.  Oscar's girlfriend had somehow found out about the "extra credit" and decided it was reason enough to disconnect herself from this beautiful young man.  Elizabeth couldn't believe how naïve the girl obviously was; what Oscar had to offer in so many ways wasn't just waiting around every corner and here this girl Jessie had been, with Oscar obviously coming close to being in Love, and then bang, one strike---one he'd gone for not following his dick per se but risking for his future, no less---and she was ready to write him off like a bad check.  Yes, silly, silly little girl...

         But the bitch had also caused Elizabeth to bet put on non-specific administrative probation which now made her an enemy.

         Oscar had come to her apartment sullen and moody, his broad shoulders filling her doorway when she opened it.  "We need to get some things straightened out," he had said upon entering.  She'd just listened as he ran down the events of his evening and all the things that had been tumbling around in his head.  With a hunter's patience she'd listened and waited---much like she was doing now---until he seemed to just exhale and relax, some of the initial tension leaving his body with the last of his venting.  Then, without much preamble, she moved in close to him and began kissing him, one soft hand against his hard jaw, the other fishing far lower, inside the waist band of his boxers. 

         At first he had seemed ready to resist, ready to stop her, but her fingers found him and clutched at his heavy meat while her tongue danced inside his mouth.  His mood had shifted; somewhere inside Oscar a decision got made and he just surrendered to his Professor's skilled advances.  One thing soon led to another and now here they were, him eased back in her couch, her between his thighs nursing his dick with abandon.

         Watching his professor crawl into place, Oscar stared her down as she knelt on the floor in front of him.  She was thirty-something but whatever that was supposed to look like, he believed she looked much younger.  Except maybe in the eyes, the eyes were where she got you, where she trapped you.  They were a predator's eyes and they'd seen a lot of hunting.  He sat quietly as did she, her hand holding his dick upright as it slid and twisted up and down along his veiny length.  Her hair, golden and pinned up, with soft waves of it tumbling forward framing her face made her eyes that much more distinct.    But unlike his initial reaction toward her at the beginning of the semester---when his dick had gone bone-stiff as he watched her navigating the aisles of her lecture hall in a short, clinging black skirt and white blouse with heels that showed off her toned calves and thighs---now he saw a much different woman in front of him.  She had mastered her sexuality as a practiced tool and likely couldn't be trusted very far beyond the bedroom.

         That made him think. 

         Why was he doing this?  Why let her touch him at all if she couldn't be trusted?  He was just an available dick to her he was sure, but he'd been dumb enough to get his ass in a bind over her and her promises which made it all worse.

         And yeah, he was angry with Jessie; somewhere in his brain a part of him was even now rationalizing that fucking this woman tonight--- regardless of before--- was justified because of the way Jessie had acted.  But that voice was weak, he really didn't believe it.  He'd hurt Jessie's feelings and it was legit for her to lash out because of that hurt but getting into this...this mess with his professor, well that was one pool he didn't need to be swimming in again.  Nostrils flaring as he let out a breath, he felt his new resolve settle over him and watched as his dick began to soften in Elizabeth's hands, something she noticed also, and quickly.   

         "What the...?!?"

         "I'm...  Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come over here, this is wrong."

         Elizabeth dragged the back of her hand slowly across her lips, her eyes going cold as she stared at him.  "What do you mean you're 'sorry'?  I'm not some five-dollar whore giving head in an alley, I'm your Professor!"

         Shit, Oscar thought, recognizing her reaction.  Here it was, the fuck-up. 

         AGAIN.




                                 

<<<<"...I Git Paid T' Do Tha Wild Thang.">>>>

         Laura had been partying a LOT and consequently had fallen dangerously behind in several core classes because of it.  Through her Physics teacher whom she'd spent two nights with last week, word had spread to certain other like-minded faculty that, given the chance, she was willing to go that "extra mile" to get her GPA back where it needed to be.  This endorsement soon led to other Professors offering her similar "make-up" opportunities that had nothing at all to do with class and everything to do with ASS. 

         Her Calculus professor was one of the first to take advantage, he didn't even bother trying to be subtle: she came into his office at the end of the day and he was already standing by the window, dick hanging from his trousers awaiting the skilled caress of Laura's practiced young lips. 

         "An A-Plus on your exam would help your current average considerably, Miss Hayes," he said as Laura closed and locked the office door behind her.  "Of course that would require the appropriate...effort and initiative on your part."

         "Sure, Professor, no problem.  And when I'm swallowing your cum be sure you understand also..."  Laura watched his pale dick twitch when she said that and knew once she got started he wouldn't last long.  Oh well, best to get it over with, she had other classes to pass and he was such a geek... 

         Within a short period of time Laura was deep into her task, while it wasn't much of a thrill for her, Herbert Jameson, her Calculus professor, couldn't have paid for a better time if he'd wanted to.

         She sucked him quickly, sloppily, kneeling in the center of his office and slurping his narrow dick until he was shaking with pleasure.  Pulling away, he sat down on the small couch and urged Heather to straddle him.  Slightly surprised she rose, bunching her skirt around her flared hips to reveal the closely trimmed, silky hairs lightly covering the plump lips of her pussy.

         "That's  what I want.  Mmmmmnnnn, bring it here, Miss Hayes, bring me that right now.  I'm going to thoroughly enjoy this you know, every wet, nasty moment."  She threw one leg across his lap and turned her back to him, lowering her round ass toward his upright prick as he pulled a latex sheathe tightly over it.  With an almost feverish impatience he bucked upward and was in her before she realized it.  Barely a dozen or so rough strokes later and he groaned out loudly, trembling as his rubber bloated with the cum spilling out of him.  Laura  just sat astride him trying desperately not to laugh.  Gasping for air and sweaty, Herbert leaned against her supple back, arms tight around her waist mumbling something about the her "Heavenly" pussy and her new passing grade.  Once she heard "A-Plus" confirmed, she pulled herself off his shrinking member and straightened her clothes. 

         Yeah, she'd been right about him: he'd been done quicker than the time it took to find the value of Pi.  Poor bastard, a geek was a geek was a GEEK...



                                                                             

EPILOGUE: 1

                                       

Jobs, Hobbies, And Things We Just Love To Fucking Do

         Spring Break flew by for Rebecca, Cabo San Lucas had been everything Jeremy said it would be.  Great weather, beautiful beaches, liquor, clubs, and partying.  Almost before she realized it, the hiatus was over; 'Break was finished and her mind was already on other things. 

         Before leaving, she had spent her last night with Jeremy--- Professor Hendricks--- in his office, bent over his desk with his cum splattered all over her welted ass cheeks.  In a low, near-breathless voice, he had offered her the aide job for when she returned. 

         No less fatigued, she had moaned a quick, assertive, "yes".  The job ordinarily was sought after by students either majoring in the professor's particular field or in need of a job for tuition assistance.  Rebecca didn't need extra money and she was actually a Business major, not Political Sciences like Jeremy taught.  She had taken the job for one reason only: it assured her frequent access to Jeremy's big, chocolate dick. 

         She couldn't wait.  Only slightly embarrassed by her own eagerness, she even spent a good part of her vacation planning out scenarios she could surprise him with.  Role play, experiments with bondage, new...equipment to use.  She'd gotten lost in the possibilities.  As she considered it now, it was evident the plans were as much about things she wanted to discover as it was about things she wanted to offer. 

         So many ways to tease him, to make him want her bad enough to rip whatever she was wearing off and tear into her pussy like he hadn't had a woman in years.  Just thinking about it, about him, made the crotch of her panties sopping wet.  Damn, his dick was going to feel so good plowing between the bald, freshly waxed lips of her pussy.  She loved the way his fat cock stretched her, the way the swollen head felt when it was cramming its way in.  No other lover had felt like he felt, made her react the way he made her react.  She loved it and she tingled with the knowledge that every passing moment brought her that much closer back to him...





                                                                               

{To Be CONCLUDED... }