I attended a small college in S. Carolina on a football scholarship. I was never much of a student, but managed to impress the football scouts and coaches enough to get on the team.
I decided to major in business instead of physical education like many of the other players. I wasn't good enough for the pros, so I figured I better get a degree in something that would be useful later in life. After my first exam I got an email from my math professor. She asked me to meet with her to discuss my grade. Normally, this is not a good sign.
I arrived at her office at the appointed hour. She got right to the point. "You got a big fat F on your test, Bobby," she said as she held up the exam sheet that was full of red marks. "You know that's not acceptable. You'll never keep your football scholarship with grades like this."
"I know that, Professor Dixon. I've never been very good in math," I said apologetically.
The professor looked at me sternly. "I sent this grade to your football coach. And he wasn't very happy."
"I know that,too. He talked to me after practice yesterday. He said I had to do better in your class. And that you might be able to set me up with a tutor or something."
Professor Dixon looked at me over her reading glasses. She was several years older than me, but in great shape. It was very hard for me to ignore her big tits that were on full display in her tight, low-cut blouse. Many of the other football players had her and the opinion was unanimous, she was definitely a MILF.
"Does your girlfriend help you with your homework?"
"No," I replied. "She's not very good in math either. She's an Education major."
Professor Dixon thought for a moment. "I see. Well, I bet you do other things beside homework."
I wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. "Well, sure we go out with friends and stuff."
"I love watching you on Saturday. Do you and your girlfriend like to party after the game. I bet the girls don't think twice about dropping their panties for you."
"Professor Dixon, I don't know what this has to do with my math grade," I replied.
"I'll tell you what it has to do with your math grade, Bobby. Maybe you could do something for me. And in return, I could destroy this test and you could do some extra credit."
Professor Dixon leaned over her desk to give me a full view of her tits spilling out of her blouse. "OK," I said, "what do I have to do?"
"Why don't you do me a favor and unbutton your pants. Don't be shy. It's after school and everyone is gone. No one is looking for you. And no one would expect anything from me. And call me Pamela."