The Grade-Whore: Ch. 1 Bargain Accepted
Author's note: This is a two-part tale of May-December romance, intense eroticism, and most importantly, overwhelming love. You are free to decide if you believe it really happened. But it did, almost exactly as I've described it here.
BACKGROUND: ETHICS, LUST, AND SELF-DELUSION
Everyone has heard the stories, right? Pretty college coed trades sex for a good grade in a course? I'd always been too professional and self-righteous to take advantage of the poor young girls who had propositioned me. I knew it was unethical, and that was enough. Besides, what if I got one of them pregnant? What if somebody saw us? What if I caught something? Too much could go wrong. It just wasn't worth the risk - to my marriage or to my career. Most importantly, to my sense of who I was. I was BETTER than that!
Brad, a colleague of mine from another department, had a well-deserved reputation for seducing girls in his classes. I'd overheard him talking about it to several intrigued male colleagues. "Look, they're whores, right? Only instead of money or jewelry they're asking for something else of value. It's usually a good grade in my class, but sometimes they also want to get laid by somebody who knows what he's doing. So once they make the offer, everything's on the table. They'll trade their bodies for what they want. And if they think the grade is worth enough, they'll put out. Hell, I never get less than a whole night, and usually the deal is for a whole lot more! I haven't settled for a tit-flash or a pussy-fingering or a blowjob in more than ten years! If I can't fuck them until I'VE had enough, there just isn't any deal. In their twats, in their asses, in their mouths. I'm got something of value that they'll trade for. Grade-whores, that's all they really are. So why not fuck 'em and enjoy it? A cunt's a cunt, right? And they're young and hot with great bodies! Grade-whores. Gotta love this job!"
I couldn't accept Brad's hedonistic rationalizations. I was in a position of trust, and I had real power over my students. Given that power, they often weren't able to make a fair deal. I could force them into having sex, and they really didn't have many options. But ethics and morality alone didn't keep me from exploiting my coeds. Too many bad things could happen, and I wasn't going to risk everything for a few short moments of sexual release. I really had no idea how much higher the cost could easily be, but the fates had cruelly decided to inform me.
Some coeds are truly tempting. Many of them are at the peak of their beauty, and they exuded their desire and need to find mates. During tests I often studied their firm, hard bodies and beautiful faces. Walking around the room and gazing down I often saw breasts exposed to the nipples. While sitting at my desk it was common for me to be able to look up a skirt and see panties, and occasionally an uncovered pussy. I was known for giving more tests than most of my colleagues, and the opportunity to look at their bodies was one of the reasons. Looking was fine as long as I didn't touch. Sure.
Janice Stewart caught my eye the first day of classes during one spring semester. I called the roll to see which students on my roster were actually attending my calculus class, and she was one of three particularly attractive coeds in the group of thirty students. She was about five-foot-seven, blonde, blue-eyed, and trim but rounded the way women should be. It was still winter and she was wearing relatively heavy clothing, but her posture and bearing radiated her physical confidence. Most students, particularly the women, looked away when I called their names and looked closely at them in order to memorize their faces. Jan gave me an enigmatic smile and stared directly into my eyes. "Jan, not Janice. Please call me Jan, Professor." I felt her eyes pull at me, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. She was special from the first moment I saw her.
Nobody ever sat in the front row, but Jan sat one row back, right in the front. I quickly realized she was a serious student. She asked questions in class, and she frequently stopped by my office for help with assignments. As the weather began to get warm, everyone's clothing reflected the arrival of spring, and I could easily see that her figure was indeed as shapely and trim as I had suspected that first day. When she sat next to me in my office and worked on problems at my desk, I could smell her shoulder-length, golden hair. The natural scent of her skin frequently caused me to become erect. Unfortunately this meant I usually masturbated while thinking about Jan since I was unable to get normal sexual relief at home.
After our second child graduated from college and left home, my wife quickly divorced me so that she could stop, as she phrased it, "living a lie." She had known she was a lesbian before I began dating her. It was only after our divorce that I learned she had maintained a three-decade-long affair with Lisa, her lover/roommate from college. Lisa was unmarried, and had often stayed for several days at a time in our home. I had never suspected a thing.
The day she moved out, my ex-wife moved into an apartment with Lisa and proclaimed their sexuality to the world. Six months later we finally sold our house and divided the proceeds. I bought a tiny old farmhouse about ten miles from town. Its location made it easier for me to hide from the stares of my colleagues, both male and female.
I had always felt virile and athletic, even if I didn't fuck my coeds. But my masculine reputation was very much a matter of derision after my wife left me for a woman. After several single women turned me down for dates, I gave up trying. Mary Palm and her five daughters now provided my only sexual activity - as they had done for some time prior to my divorce. Dreaming about Jan and several of the other women in my classes at least made the experience more intense. I was free to fantasize about fucking them even if I knew I could never actually do it.
During our so-called marriage I had acquired a number of pieces of exercise equipment. My ex had no interest in any of it, and I used the dining room of my farmhouse as my workout space. I had always kept myself in good shape, so when I unexpectedly found myself living alone, I began to vigorously work out two or more hours each day. I also laid out several trails on my new property, and during good weather I managed daily runs of several miles.
Six months after my marriage ended I was in the best physical shape of my life. I didn't have the raw strength I'd had when I was younger, but I had a resting heart-rate pf fifty- five, and my waist was a trim thirty-two inches. My lean six-foot-tall body had returned to one hundred seventy-five pounds. My ejaculations, wasted as I masturbated, increased in both quantity and squirt-distance. For the first time since I was a teenager, I constantly thought about sex. The irony of my situation was not lost on me.
My raw lust for Jan tempted me. But I hadn't fooled around with my students since my first couple of years of graduate school, and I wasn't about to start now. I suspected that Jan was used to professors coming on to her. Consequently when I didn't make any moves, she became relaxed and comfortable around me. In fact we became as friendly as we possibly could, given our professor-student relationship. When she got a C- on my first exam, she cried in my office for nearly a half-hour. She didn't ask me to change her grade. Instead she asked for advice about ways to control her crippling anxiety during exams.
In about the middle of the semester Jan brought two tennis racquets to class. Her hair was tied back in a cute ponytail. That's how I learned she played number two on the women's tennis team, and her daily practices explained her healthy, athletic, slender figure.
From that day forward I made a point of watching her home matches. Her short tennis outfit revealed her shapely, powerful legs and unexpectedly bouncy breasts, and I was embarrassed by my inappropriate erections. Win or lose, she would always stop by the bleachers to say hello and talk for a few minutes after her matches. I could barely conceal my lust for her young body. Smelling the aroma of her fresh sweat turned on my libido like flipping a switch. I felt like a pervert. Mary Palm and her daughters were kept busy after her matches as I fantasized about having sex with Jan.
Jan earned a B- on the second test, but then fell back to a D on the third. Perhaps because of the time she spent practicing tennis, she barely earned a C on the comprehensive final exam which she took that fateful Wednesday morning..
THURSDAY: TEASED, TEMPTED, AND TESTED
Jan knew she had not done well, and the day after the exam she sent me an e-mail asking about her course grade. Twenty minutes after I e-mailed her that she had received a C, she was knocking on my office door.
Jan sat down in a chair facing the front of my desk, dropped her clutch purse onto my desk, and immediately began sobbing into her hands. I sat behind my desk, wondering what I should do. My office door was open, as is my custom whenever students are with me, and several colleagues glanced in and saw her crying. This was not an uncommon scene at this time of year, and they gave me sympathetic smiles.
I handed Jan a box of tissues, and she finally composed herself. She stared at me. Her deep blue eyes were red and swollen, and I could see she was still on the verge of tears. I've never been able to handle crying women, and I didn't know what to say, so I just looked back at her. I really liked her, I was still lusting after her body, and I didn't know how to handle her tears. I was a complete jerk.
"I can't get a C in this class!" Jan finally said in a voice not much louder than a whisper. "I just can't!" Her eyes caught and held my own.
