Heather 3

Rules are to be broken, rules are to be abridged, rules are to be changed; but for Heather, there were no rules.

My spring semester had finally come to a conclusion, and the process of totaling up points, sorting grades, and amassing papers was heavy on my shoulders in the final days. My desk was a rubbish heap, knee deep in graded and un-graded research papers.

She quietly tapped on my open door. "Dr. Browne."

My concentration broke; I looked up at the young woman standing in my doorway. "Yes."

"Dr. Browne, I'm Heather from your ten o'clock class." She stepped into the office and put her books on a side chair.

"Oh, yes, Heather, sorry my eyes are blurry from looking at this computer screen."

Cute girl, wonder why I haven't noticed her before.

"Let's see, you sit on the left side near the back."

She nodded. "Near the window so I can get some air."

"Yeah, it gets a little stuffy in there alright, and not all if from my lectures." I chuckled but noted that the young coed had a serious look.

Heather put her hand on my desk. "I'm real concerned about my grade this semester." A long lock of her hair fell across her face.

I motioned for her to sit. "Have you been following your scores?"

She pushed the lock of her long brown hair back. "Yes sir, I haven't seen my final research paper grade as yet. I'm hoping it will pull up my average."

"Let me check the grade book." Our grade accounting was kept in an electronic file, so I spun my chair around to the computer. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. All of her mediocre grades were recorded except the research paper. "Okay Heather," I said, spinning my chair back around. "Everything is in except the final paper; I think I have it on the desk here. However, you're barely holding on so I hope the research paper is well done."

She leaned toward the desk. "Can we look at it? I mean, would you mind?"

Shit, she's braless.

"Let me see if I can find it." I quickly found her paper in the un-graded stack and pulled it to my desk top. "Here it is."

Heather stood and leaned over the desk.

Damn, I'm getting hard and probably wet.

Her pouting breasts were clearly displayed down her drooping blouse. I stayed in my chair and slid my lap under the desk.

"Dr. Browne, do you see anything that jumps off the page?"

If she only knew, I'd like to jump on the table and fuck her royally.

"Heather let's go though this together." It was easy to pick up her first run-on sentence. I circled the problem with a red pen, then made a few additional marks down the paper.

Heather placed her hand on top of mine and cooed. "I really need this grade; I'll do anything to pass the class."

I straightened up in my chair. "Well, this paper needs some editing. Why don't you take it to the Library and proof it, make some corrections, and then bring it back this afternoon. I probably won't grade your class until this evening."

She licked her finger and picked up the paper; however, as she turned the second page floated to the floor. Heather made a point of pausing long enough for me to watch as she retrieved the errant research paper and put it into her book bag. I had no doubt what she wanted me to see.

"Absolutely, anything," she said, and disappeared out the door.

When my heart stopped racing I looked down at the large wet spot in my tan trousers. "Shit." I pulled several tissues out of my desk box and stuck them in my pants.

I spent the afternoon fighting through mounds of paper and was about to run over to a nearby gas station for a microwave sandwich, when Heather again appeared in my doorway. Most of the faculty had left for the day, and only a handful of offices were occupied in my building.

"I ran into some problems, I thought maybe you could fix." Heather handed her paper across the desk. My marks were still on the front page. I noted she had tied her hair back with a bow.

"What kind of help can I give you?"

Heather crossed the invisible barrier separating my side of the desk from a visitor. "I don't understand exactly what you want."

I leaned over the desk with her on my shoulder. "Look Heather, there are several grammar issues, even before we get to your citations."

Damn, she's stroking my beard.

The bulge in my pants had reoccurred and was bursting against the zipper, both trying to escape.

"Can you show me what to do?" She whispered.

I thought I would be cute. "Sure, but it will cost you a hug and kiss." Fraternization with students was a strict violation of the ethics code, but young girls often gave a quick hug and cheek kiss to professors at the end of the semester.

Heather put her hands on my cheeks and pressed her mouth on my lips placing her tongue deep in my mouth with a warm French kiss. Then she put her arms around my shoulder and her face next to mine. Her gaping blouse had another button open and her small breast was resting against my arm. "You're tense," she whispered.

That isn't the half of it.

"Heather, there are people in the building."

"I know, Math people, all upstairs." She unbuttoned another button on her blouse and slid down to her knees. Slowly, she brought my left hand down to her breast; then she unzipped my pants and pulled out my raging cock. "Ooh, this is nice."

I was never impressed with my own masculinity, totally low average in the locker room. "Heather," I softly protested, but it was too late, she had already taken it into her mouth and was beginning an even stroke. Within minutes I exploded into her mouth and she continued to lick the head. "Jeeze girl."

"Like I said, anything to pass."

"Shit, what would you do for an 'A'?"

Heather smiled and wiped her mouth with a tissue. "I'll be back in hour."