Special thanks to whordinarygirl for her editing advice. She saved you all from several grammatical errors: any remaining mistakes are mine alone. Enjoy! -SecretSmileToday
*
She couldn't believe she'd agreed to this. It's true, it was sort of her idea, but maybe—maybe—she had expected her husband would hit the brakes.
Joanna stared at the reflection in the mirror. Almost forty but still sexy: A good diet and a workout habit helped her feel confident in herself despite a few wrinkles and a slightly stretched-out "momma's belly". The outfit, now... that was something different. She felt a flush of something—Embarrassment? Lust? Both?---when she looked at the short skirt and white blouse, classic "naughty school girl" attire for tonight's party.
She smiled when she thought of her husband's mysteriousness and buildup. Joanna was comfortable with their new lifestyle: after fifteen years of monogamy, and kids, and work, and all other kinds of joys, they had decided to branch out sexually, invite occasional other couples into their shared pleasures. They'd worked through the few patches of jealousy that cropped up, but mainly were thrilled that they matched up as well here as in other areas. She loved watching him make his partner come, and the mingled love and lust in his eyes when he watched her fuck another man's gorgeous cock often helped put her over the edge. So, after all that, it seemed a little silly the lengths he'd gone to for tonight.
To be fair, this was her biggest unfulfilled fantasy: the naughty schoolgirl.
She wasn't attracted to teenagers, but something about the outfit, the not-quite-innocence, the power differential... did it for her every time. She rarely masturbated these days with so many willing men (and women) offering to help, but when she did it was often imagining herself in a professor's office, on her knees in the outfit she was wearing now, working ever so hard to earn that "A." She'd brought it up a few times lately, and apparently, her husband wanted to help make it happen.
She made a face in the mirror. They did very well when they communicated clearly. Why had she taken so long to let him half-know how important this was to her? She was looking forward to tonight, but worried it might be too tame, not quite what she needed. She'd had a few "zingers"—that sudden rush of electric sensation—when she'd realized he was sounding her out about her boundaries. How far could he go? Would she want to have a safeword or just trust him and play it by ear?
It was almost a disappointment when she realized they were heading to the city and the swinger club's Naughty Schoolgirl Night. She'd hoped (or feared? or both?) that he was planning something bigger. But then she thought about all the things she'd been too nervous to try on their last visit. Would he get so into his role that he would push her to finally spread her legs for him at that very public barstool, ride him on that centrally located bed, or get fucked while leaning over the railing? Did she want him to?
She let the complications fall away as she pulled on the stockings, the too-short plaid skirt, and the tight white blouse over the revealing bra. She was going to enjoy the hell out of tonight regardless.
***
Mark was nervous, excited, and thoroughly horny. A month ago, he'd been licking the sexiest, most responsive pussy in the world and trying for the thousandth time not to gloat that this goddess had somehow chosen him to build a life with, when her phone buzzed. She picked it up, knowing he liked to take his time and wouldn't mind the pause. Less expectedly, she replied to the text, and then another, and then another, getting noticeably wetter and more vocal with each exchange. She'd finally tossed the phone to the side as she'd thrashed to a screaming orgasm and then another in rapid succession. That night they fucked for hours, and she kept coming the whole time, in every position. With, she later admitted, visions of a naughty schoolgirl on her knees filling her head the whole time.
The texts were innocuous enough for their lifestyle: a suggestive bit of banter with a friend who happened to teach classes at the local community college, sexy joking about earning some extra credit, and a few sexy pictures of her performing enthusiastic fellatio the week before. She was sexy in those texts like always, but Mark couldn't deny that she'd reacted much more strongly than usual to a bit of flirting. And he wanted to see that again.
All of which led to tonight. He was terrible at keeping secrets, so he let her figure out they were going to the Naughty School Girl theme night at the club. He just didn't let on that he had an assignment for her.
***
Joanna looked up in surprise as she walked out of the bathroom of the hotel room they had gotten for the night. Mark was already dressed, and he'd dressed the part: shirt, slacks, blazer... where did he get fake glasses? Weirder, he was sitting at the desk in the small hotel room, with a stack of books and papers in front of him.
"Hello, Miss...?"
"Claire," she replied. Hell, why not go for the fantasy? "I'm in your intro psych class. I'm the one who emailed you about the extra credit?"
His eyes lingered on the hemline of her skirt, halfway between her knee and her rapidly warming pussy. "Well, that's not as easy as you seem to think. You need to earn your grades in this class, Claire."
Joanna could settle for this just fine: a little further than they'd gone before, and probably some wicked hot sex at the end. Would they even make it to the party? Worth it, anyway. "I promise I can earn it, Professor. Just let me show you!" She slid around the desk, sinking to her knees and sliding her hands up his pant legs and over the hardening bulge where they met.
"Now Claire," he interrupted in a firm tone, "we've already been down this road. I admit you give great head, and you definitely earned your opportunity to retake the midterm, but the final is over now. You can't just retake the exam, they're graded and in."
"But..." Joanna didn't have to fake the confusion, but she decided to roll with it. "But what can I do then? I really need this "A." I just know we can work something out..." she ran her tongue over her lips, and tried for confidence as she firmly gripped his engorged cock through the slacks. "What do you say, Professor?"
This felt too good, and Mark had plans for the evening. He stood up and walked to the side of the desk. "There is one possibility, but you need to take this seriously. I could allow an extra credit project, but you'd have to get it done tonight, and it might be past your comfort zone. Claire, sit down." He gestured firmly to the chair. She sat, spreading her legs slightly, and looked up at him through her eyelashes.
"If you want to do this, you'll be helping me in my research. You'll need to commit to stick with it the whole night, even though it might be difficult. If you do well, you'll earn that "A", but if you do poorly there will be no recourse. Are you sure you want to do this? I'll give you a moment to think it over."
What was this about? "I'm in!" she said with a bright grin. "So, what's this extra credit?" She started to unbutton her blouse, but he was already headed to the door. "Grab your coat, it's chilly out there. You'll need that manila envelope as well," he gestured at her elbow. Slightly confused, Joanna follow her husband, but tonight it was Claire following her professor out the door. \
The club was only a few blocks away. Joanna reached for her husband's hand, but he shook it off. "This is serious research, Claire. Try to behave professionally." Slightly annoyed, she increased the distance between them, but he only gave a curt nod and kept walking.
At the door, they signed in as usual but then he pocketed her ID. "Don't forget who you are or why you're here tonight, Claire. I'm counting on you to take this seriously." She felt a little shiver at how deeply he'd gotten into the role, and how uncertain this now felt. She trusted him, and yet... this was different somehow. "Open the envelope, Claire."
Joanna felt her cheeks flush as she saw the 'experimental procedure' written up. "This is your last chance to back out, Claire," he said, handing her a small bag. Inside, she recognized the remote-controlled vibrator they'd used only once in public. He'd come so hard so fast that night in the hotel, after 'playing' with her through dinner in the lobby restaurant, but that had been years ago... She decided. "Okay, Professor. This gets me an "A", right?" On his nod, she excused herself to the bathroom and slipped the vibrator into her pussy.
Was she really doing this? According to the procedure, she would approach at least thirty patrons to get her "A." She would ask each if she could get their help with a physiology experiment, which would involve taking their pulse, then kissing them on the lips, and then taking their pulse again. Unbeknownst to the volunteers, "Claire" would record for each if they were condition A (control) or condition B (aroused), where the kiss would coincide with Claire's vibrator triggering in her pussy. She tried to feel indignant, and realized those emotions were swamped by how incredibly turned on she was getting.
