[It has been some time since I submitted my last set of College Adventures and I encourage you to read the prior submissions to best understand what transpires here. And please don't hesitate to offer comments or suggestions. Enjoy.]
Alina Sorel was one of the students that I'd found to be in an 'inappropriate' relationship with one of our faculty members – trading certain sexual favors for higher grades. She was an exceptional young woman in terms of her beauty, with strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, and one of those bodies that so many young women aspire to, but seldom seem to achieve. But her scholarly abilities clearly were not the equal of many of the other students here at McCalester. It was fortunate then, that she came from a wealthy family and that her father was chair of the University's Board of Trustees. Not only did she get into McCalester (needless to say, with her father's assistance), but she had managed to fit in, if struggling academically. My assistant and personal whore, Jen, had pointed out that Ms. Sorel was a bit of a bitch. That wasn't particularly concerning to me since it all worked in my favor. Although admittedly, I probably should have thought twice before fucking the 19-year old daughter of the man who chaired the college's Board of Trustees.
I had arranged with my assistant Jen to deliver her directly to my residence rather than my office. When they walked in, I was in my robe at my desk, and I dismissed Jen with a short "You won't be needed any more this evening." I could tell she was clearly irritated and that she had expected to be involved in the evening's festivities. Or debaucheries. But I had other things planned for her, and was looking forward to focusing my attention (and desires) on young Ms. Sorel this evening.
I looked up briefly from my paperwork, sipped from the glass of the scotch on my desk, and took in the young woman from my position behind the desk. She clearly hadn't expected to meet with me in my residence and was uncomfortable under my gaze, especially I think, given my less than formal dress. She wore a pale yellow sundress that stopped at mid-thigh. She was curvaceous, with a budding woman's body. She had well-formed hips under the billowy dress, and her breasts were full, firm and nearly overflowing from the top of the dress, contained only by the well-placed straps holding the dress in place.
I turned back to my work and ignored her. She busied herself looking around for a few minutes and then exasperated, indicated by a long and loud exhaled sigh, she parked herself in the large leather chair across from my desk. I continued to focus on the pile of papers on my desk until she annoyingly spoke up, "Why am I here?"
I looked directly into her eyes and was equally plain in my response, "Because I wanted a young bitch to fuck this afternoon, and since you're here, you were clearly available."
Her look was one of utter shock. She quickly rose and turned to leave the room when I again spoke, "I understand you've been fucking one of your professors."
She stopped, and then turned to face me, her face flushed and clearly flustered. "What are you talking about?"
"Was I not clear in what I said?"
She looked at me like an animal caught in a trap. And she made her first mistake. "Professor Bradford started it. I didn't want to....but, but,..."
Keeping my composure at this revelation was difficult – I hadn't expected this, but I was ecstatic in its potential implications. I knew she'd screwed Bob Mitchell, negotiating her grade for what appeared to be on the video I had, a sumptuous blowjob, and one I was looking forward to experiencing. Alina went on, and I listened, becoming more ecstatic and horny by the minute. Sara Bradford, who was also Associate Dean, had been a significant thorn in my side since my appointment as President, but had seemed invulnerable. Alina's revelation that she was screwing Dean Bradford now pierced that aura of invincibility and I looked forward to being the person to really puncture it. I let myself become distracted thinking about fucking Sara Bradford, when Alina shrieked, "What the hell are you doing?"
I had inadvertently begun to stroke my now-hard cock in anticipation of the depravities I expected to engage in with Sara, only to be brought back to the reality of the moment, and young Ms. Sorel. Who was going to make a more than adequate substitute in Dean Bradford's immediate absence.
I stood up, my robe open and my prick fully erect, my hand wrapped around the thick shaft, slowly sliding up and down. Alina, obviously shocked, turned and started quickly for the door, only to stop when I said loudly "I think you might want to see this." She turned when she heard the moans from the large screen on the wall as I turned on the already cued up video.
Like I had done with Trisha Campbell, in vivid display on the large flat-screen hanging on the wall, was Alina in a rather precarious position on a couch, moaning loudly, her mouth wrapped around an erect, if rather tiny cock, and Professor Mitchell, in the throes of what appeared to be an excellent blowjob, furiously masturbating her clit. He was clearly not doing a good job of it given the pained expression on her face. However, she continued to suck his cock despite the look on her face that suggested Bob was rubbing her clit with sandpaper. I looked at her. "If you've been fucking Dean Bradford, who I didn't know about, and Professor Mitchell, who I obviously do know about, it makes me wonder which of the other faculty members you've been screwing. And since I know you're sucking his cock in exchange for a grade, it makes me ask whether your grades for any of your courses are legitimate at all?"
She stopped in mid-stride and shrieked "How did you get this?! This is illegal! You can't..."
I walked up to her and coldly slapped her across the face which quickly brought the shrieking to a halt. She looked at me in stunned silence. I stared directly into her eyes, "All you need to understand is the following. With a single flick of my finger, I will send a copy of this little video clip from an anonymous account to your father. Do I need to say more?"
