Brittany fidgeted as she stared to the front of the classroom. Only five minutes left in the lesson, and she still hadn't thought of a way to approach Mr. Hughes. She watched him as he wrote some notes up on the board. Sort of handsome, in his way, but certainly past his prime. He was in is late forties or early fifties, strong-looking, but definitely had a belly. She grimaced.
Two days ago, she had received a notice in her mailbox from Mr. Hughes, informing her that she was failing his Calculus class. As it was 3/4 of the way through the semester, that made sense: all teachers were expected to inform failing students before the end of term.
Britt had a hard time with Calc as it was, but with all her other classes, she was having even more trouble keeping up. Her dancing commitments, too, were an added time constraint. Brittany was a svelte 5 foot 6 inches, and, built with smooth, muscular thighs and a spectacular ass, she was an exemplary member of the school's hip hop team. She had perky, ample-sized breasts and a delicate, pretty face, and fit well into the small skirt and fitted tee she wore that spring morning.
Brittany tapped her foot. Only a few moments remained of class, and still no ideas. If she failed this class, she'd be kicked off the dance team, and might lose her scholarship. She couldn't let that happen!
The bell rang. As the students filed out, Britt made her way to the front of the room.
"Er... Mr. Hughes?" she began. "Ms. Coleston! Yes, I thought I might be seeing you," he said. Always proper, he called her by her surname, as she did to him.
"Yeah," Britt began, regretfully. "I got your letter. Look, it's... I mean, I really... I can't fail this class!" she burst out. "I'll get kicked off the dance team, and they might revoke my scholarship." She looked at the floor.
"I understand," Mr. Hughes said kindly. "Calculus is a hard class! And I know you're busy. But as a college sophomore, you should be able to manage your time better."
"I know," Brittany said, embarrassed. "But is there anything I can do to improve my grade?" "Well," thought Mr. Hughes, "there are still a few more assignments, a quiz, and the final exam. But, with your grade as low as it is, you'll need to ace all of them."
"Mr. Hughes, I almost never know what's going on in class, that's never going to happen!" said Brittany, stricken. "Isn't there anything else?" Mind racing, Britt looked down at the floor again, then looked up at her professor, batting her eyelashes. "Please?" She couldn't believe she was doing this, but, not one to half-ass something, she bit her lip for full effect.
Mr. Hughes cleared his throat. "Erm, well... I suppose there is some extra credit you can do, if you wish. But it will take dedication. Are you... prepared, Ms. Coleston?" He stared at her, taking her in. He'd always admired her body, and sometimes even gotten a look up some of her skirts on a lucky day, but had never imagined this opportunity presenting itself in such a...succulent way. He took a step closer to her, to make his intentions clear.
Britt took a deep breath. Was she prepared? She eyed her professor. Imagined his belly pushing against her, his balls bouncing against her flesh as he fucked her. His cock in her mouth. Her insides squirmed. But there was no way she could get the A's she needed to pass. She exhaled. "Yes, I'm prepared," she said, licking her lips.
"Very well. Please close the door." She hurried to do as she was told. "And turn to the desk," he said smoothly, as she returned to the front of the room. Looking at the floor, Brittany complied with his request. Mr. Hughes stood behind her, and slid his hands down her body, slowly, taking in every dip and curve. He moved his hands back up to cup her breasts. "Oh, Ms. Coleston," he moaned into her ear, "I think I'm going to enjoy this."
He slid his hands up under her shirt, to hold her bare tits in his hands. "Mmmm, no bra?" he chuckled, grabbing her breasts roughly and squeezing both nipples, making her squeal. "Now, now, Ms. Coleston," he chastised. "This is only the beginning." Britt could feel his cock hardening against the small of her back. Her mind was racing, but she saw no way out.
Mr. Hughes suddenly pushed her over his desk. "Now," he said haughtily, "Let's see what's under that little skirt, shall we?" His hands pushed Britt's skirt right up over her smooth ass. His hands were exploring freely, and he exhaled slowly, shakily.
"Ah, Ms. Coleston. What have we here?" His finders slid lightly under the hem of Britt's small, black thong. Britt, facing the desk, blushed deeply, but she could feel her pussy beginning to tingle. Something about his total domineering attitude was turning her on! "Fantastic," he breathed. He slowly slid his hand down the length of her ass, to brush against her pussy lips, which were now straining against and soaking the fabric of her panties as she arched her back, without Britt even realizing.
"Ms. Coleston! It seems this is getting you all hot and bothered," he said, gruffly but clearly aroused. "N-no, sir," Britt whispered, "not at all."