Extra Credit 55

"...And that's it, folks. We're at time. Please pass your exams to the front. I hope you all have a great week off; as a reminder, next semester starts our block on Ethics. If you aren't caught up on the reading yet -- I'm looking at you, Blake -- make sure you take advantage of spring break to

get

caught up."

Blake -- one of the worst students not just in this section, but in

any

section -- gave me a cheery wave of acknowledgement. He was on the football team, taking this to fulfill a gen ed requirement. Barely passing the course, and that was

with

some creative help from me in grading. But he showed up, he tried, and, hey, our football team was doing pretty well.

Beyond that, he was a good kid. To be honest, they were all good kids. I say kids, but really, they were only a few years younger than me; part of being a grad student was TAing a few sections of Philosophy 101 each year. Mostly freshmen and sophmores, students who wouldn't ever go on to seriously study it.

But even the ones who didn't try that hard were at least polite to me, did the work, tried to get a decent grade. It beat the hell out of the other section I had, Philosophy 370 -- Philosophy of Religion. A bunch of egotistical philosophy majors who all thought they were the next Jordan Peterson.

I watched from behind my desk as exams got dropped off, and various classmates gathered in small groups to compare plans. This was the last class of the day, which meant it was the last class before break, so it was slow to filter out.

The conversation from a group off to the side of my desk and relatively close to me filtered through the buzz in the room. It was Blake, holding court with a few of his buddies.

"Hey, Jake, did you end up hooking up with Allie last night? It looked to me like she was into you at that party, and she broke up with Matt a few weeks ago..."

Jake was blushing. "I, uh, yeah, but..." He shrugged, helplessly.

The whole group laughed, Blake the loudest of all. He shook his head, all masculine sympathy. "Haha, dude. She got you too, huh?"

Jake nodded glumly, and Blake clapped him on the shoulder. "She just knows what she's doin, man. Don't sweat it."

"Yeah, with those tits, it just, uh...didn't take long." Jake sighed, embarrassed.

The aforementioned Matt chimed in. "Yep, that's how it is. It's like Blake was saying...Allie just knows what she's doing. I couldn't ever handle it either."

Allie.

Who, I confirmed with a quick glance around the room, wasn't actually here today.

"Maybe she just hasn't gotten with the right guy yet," one of the other guys chimed in, with a smirk.

Jake took this personally. "Dude, please. You don't even have a shot. She just..." he shrugged again. "Ah, whatever. If you ever hooked up with her she'd make you blow in like five seconds. You'd be too embarrassed to even talk about it." There were murmurs of agreement from the other guys in the conversation.

As interesting as this was, I decided letting this conversation continue was probably not cultivating the kind of inclusive space I wanted in my classroom. I intervened. "Guys, if you're gonna continue this conversation, you've gotta do it somewhere else. And I recommend you don't continue it."

For a moment it looked like there might be a mutiny, but Blake understood who was giving him those scholarship-retaining grades. "Hey, sorry, Trent. Just guys talking, you know? Have a good break. And I will do the reading, I swear."

I nodded at him, and they dispersed, along with the rest of the class. I was just gathering all the exams into a bag to head out myself, when Allie showed up. Unusually late, even for her.

Allie was the kind of young woman that

everyone

noticed the moment she walked into a room. Pretty face, olive skin, a slim build. Short, just over five feet. Long, dark blonde hair down to her low back. Petite.

Except

for her chest. Oversized for her frame, her breasts looked like they were intended for a woman six inches taller and quite a bit heavier. The effect was distracting, especially when -- like today -- she was wearing a low cut top, that showed off an impressive amount of enticing, tanned cleavage.

And it was even more distracting today after hearing the conversation between Blake and his buddies. It sounded like she was really...

talented

. I felt myself flush.

I boxed off those thoughts. The only thing keeping me from feeling too guilty was that I suspected every single straight male faculty member had exactly the same challenge treating Allie professionally. I interacted with college girls all day long, and mostly didn't have any issues making sure I thought of them as my students...but Allie was one of the exceptions.

I smiled at her, sadly. "Hi, Allie. I'm afraid I just collected exams; you're too late to take it. We'll have to mark this as another non-complete."

"I--I know, but I was, uh...sick...I really need the grade, can't I...?" she trailed off as I shook my head.

I sighed. "Allie, you've missed like half of the TA sessions, with no excuses or forewarning for any of the absences. When you do attend, you aren't actively participating in the discussions. You turned in your last essay late, and -- like we talked about after I gave you the grade -- it really reflected that you haven't been keeping up with the reading."

She looked crushed.

I tried to be firm. "Look, the bottom line is that you're skating pretty close to being too far behind to catch back up; it might already be too late. We're past the deadline to drop the class but I'd really recommend you consider talking to the dean and asking for an exception so you can drop it. This isn't going to be the sort of grade you want on your transcript."

"I-I know, I'm sorry, I just...there's some stuff going on...it's been a difficult few months for me personally...I'm having trouble staying focused on classwork...but I really don't think I can afford to take this class again next semester, I need the requirement completed..." Now she looked like she might cry. Shit.

This

was an occupational hazard that only came with Philosophy 101 sections. Nobody cried in Philosophy 370.

I felt a little bad, and I could at least see what her options were. "Look, with classes out next week, I have some extra time. Let me take a closer look at your grades so far. I can give you some makeup assignments, maybe even talk to the professor about making up the exam. But the second half of this semester would have to look very different from the fir--"

"God, yes,

please

. That would be helpful. You're the best. I promise to do a lot better! Thank you!" She practically leaped forward, hugging me.

She was more than a foot shorter than me. As a result, I could feel her pillowy chest against my lower stomach.

Fuck

, her tits felt fucking good, crushed against me. My physical response was almost immediate. I awkwardly patted her, and then extricated myself, making sure the hug was as brief as possible. Fortunately, I didn't

think

she had felt me getting hard.

As she stepped back, I was treated to a view down the front of her shirt. Those big tits, tan and soft, pushed together by a plain, nude-colored bra. God damn. It was all too easy to imagine why all her classmates were trying to sleep with her -- and why it sounded like they were all cumming quickly...

I realized she was looking up at me. Had probably seen me looking down her shirt.

I tried to smoothly move past it. "Are you around at all over break? I won't be doing Tuesday office hours but I'll still do the Friday ones if you can stop by then, and we can talk about what you can do to improve your grade."

She nodded, gratefully. "I'll be there. Thanks so much for this. I know I need to do better...I'll show you what a good student I can be." She smiled at me, elated.

--

Later that night, reflecting on the day, I was brought back to the conversation I had heard the guys in class having. It was a little surprising. Allie wasn't confident -- she was pretty, yes, and had a huge pair of tits -- but she was anxious, scattered. She had a kind of...nervous energy, about her. She was late to class often, didn't raise her hand much. Wasn't the best dressed or the most social...she wasn't the most popular girl on campus by a longshot, if I had to guess. All in all -- she wasn't the sort of girl you thought would be a maneater.

So I was transfixed by the idea that she was getting guys to blow their loads quickly enough that they were all openly embarrassed and talking about it. Were her naked tits that sexy? Was she just really good in bed? I couldn't get it out of my mind.

I mean, it was all too easy to imagine what it would be like, having your cock between those big tits, but it was much harder to imagine quiet, anxious, disorganized Allie, just out there confidently making guys cum embarrasingly quickly.

Before I knew it, the idea that maybe Allie was secretly this seductive vixen took shape in my mind.

I'll show you what a good student I can be.

She had said it with nothing suggestive in her voice, earlier...but it could've been

really

suggestive.

I was rock hard, thinking about it. That hug, the way those big tits had felt against my stomach...

And she was coming to my office hours next week. We'd be alone.

The teacher-student fantasy played out in my head. Against my better judgment, I sat down to masturbate.

Her showing up at office hours wearing lingerie under her t-shirt and jeans, stripping down to show off...

C'mon, professor, all the

boys

in class think I'm an A+ student, don't you agree? Let me show you..

Now she'd be stroking those big tits up and down my length, a smirk on her face, knowing how good she was at it...

I was jacking faster, imagining how those big tits would feel. Maybe she'd spit on my length to lubricate it.

She'd be going faster, looking down at my cock, mouth open, watching the head appear out of her cleavage each time she brought her tits down my length, a sly little smirk on that pretty face...

Mmm...you're lasting longer than those college boys, but nobody lasts

very

long for me, professor...Are you going to show me how much extra credit you think I deserve?

And just like that, I was cumming, a hard, intense, orgasm. It had happened quickly, thinking about that teasing smile on Allie's face...

I felt guilty, afterwards. Totally inappropriate, obviously. But harmless. And at least I had gotten it out of my system.

--

Headed into office hours the following week, I resolved that it was going to be professional. No staring down her top. No other students talking about how quick she got them off. Definitely no hugs. No thinking about my little fantasy.

She wasn't like that anyway,

I told myself, firmly.

To avoid thinking about her body any further, I focused on preparing for the conversation.

I printed out all her past grades and assignments to see what the situation was...and the math for Allie wasn't good, unfortunately.

Even using every trick in the book, there just wasn't a way to get her a passing grade. A 100 on every remaining assignment and exam still had her failing. Hell, perfect scores on everything

plus

the amount of extra credit work I was authorized to give her beyond that

still

had her failing.

She was guaranteed an F at this point. She really needed to ask the dean if she could drop the class even though this was after the deadline. I made some notes on how the numbers worked out, and drafted an email to the dean so I could push send right after our conversation. It would help if she could describe the reason she had fallen so far behind.

Allie didn't show up until late, near the end of office hours. Very much her style.

She looked like she had been crying -- eyes a little puffy and red. Or maybe she was high. It didn't matter, I thought. Neither did another low cut top -- a crop top, this time -- that showed off an expanse of slim, tan midriff between the bottom of her crop top and the top of her jeans. And those big tits...I pulled my eyes back up, forced myself to smiled warmly, and said, "Thanks for coming by, Allie. Why don't you close the door."

It was unnecessary -- with spring break, nobody else was around anyway. But the office hours policy was doors open,

unless

you were having a conversation with a student that might be embarrassing if overheard -- like, for example, when you told them they should try to get an exception to drop the class because they were 100% guaranteed an F otherwise. And I was going to make sure this conversation was by-the-book.

Allie closed the door, and sat in the chair next to my desk. "So, like, is there some extra credit I can do? Maybe take a makeup exam?" She leaned forward, earnestly.

I spared a single, brief glance down her top.

Fuck.

She was must be wearing a push-up bra; Her tits looked incredible, and the expanse of full cleavage on display today was hard to look away from. I pulled my eyes back up and took a breath.

"Look, Allie, I've reviewed your grades, and..." Firmly, but sympathetically, I outlined the situation for her.

About halfway through she got teary-eyed, but she managed to hold it together.

"...so, look. I can email the dean and let him know you'll be reaching out. What do you think?" As I finished, I slid a box of tissues across my desk towards her.

She ignored them. "I...I can't really afford to drop the class," she said, softly. "I'm already behind on my degree, and this would mean I'd need to do a fifth year."

I nodded sympathetically. "I know, but if you fail you'll need to retake it anyway."

She looked at me. "Isn't there something you can do? Some

extra

extra credit?"

She said the words in a pleading, hopeful tone, not a suggestive one. But my brain -- or maybe, more accurately, my dick -- took the words, and ran with them anyway, plugging them into the scenario I had jacked off last week. I couldn't help it -- I glanced down at her crop top, at that valley of appealing cleavage, and thought about what the guys in class had been talking about...

Shit.

I pulled my eyes back up again. She was looking a little forlornly at the printed grades. I didn't think she had noticed me staring at her tits. This wasn't some hottie in a porno who wanted to get me off, I reminded myself. It was just a 19-year-old who wanted a passing grade.

"Uh, Allie, my hands are really tied..." I trailed off as she bit her lip and looked down and away. I took the opportunity to check her out again. God, it was hard to have a conversation with her. Her tits looked so good. I was kind of glad she hadn't attending my TA section regularly this semester; she would've been a real distraction.

I needed to wrap this up and get her out of here, I decided. I could feel myself getting hard.

What else had I needed to raise in this conversation?

Oh, right.

"Can I ask...is there something that's been happening that's affecting your ability to focus on schoolwork and attend lectures? Something that's been impacting your academic performance, that might help you explain things to the dean?"

"I guess there is, y-yeah..." She looked uncomfortable.

It was obviously something personal. I put on a sympathetic, kind, smile. "Hey, you don't have to tell me. Just be honest with the dean. It really helps in these situations, trust me."

She folded her arms, hunching a little, obviously worried, ill at ease. "I...I'd actually like to talk to you about it first, if that's okay..."

She looked up at me, making eye contact...or trying to. As it happened, I was staring at her tits again. Folding her arms underneath them really emphasized them, pushed them up and together, the way they might be if they were wrapped around...

I snapped my eyes up to hers, a full two seconds too late.

Shit.

She had definitely caught me staring that time. I blushed.

"I, uh...if you're sure, but you could also speak to one of the counseling services people or..." I felt off-balance, now. I tried to read her expression. Tried not to look down at those big tits.

"N-no, I..." she bit her lip, and said, more firmly. "I want to talk to you about it."

I flushed. Maybe she was about to tell me that she didn't like how I kept staring at her tits? That would be mortifying, the kind of thing that could tank my career.

"Of course, Allie." I tried to keep sympathy on my face.

"I...I'm having some...um, dating problems," she looked down, embarrassed. "I...it involves some of the guys in class, and so I thought..." she trailed off, nervously.

Ah.

"I see...I really think this is the kind of thing counseling could help with..."

She shook her head. "I-it's just that, um...I haven't really...figured out boys."

I smiled, trying to be kind. "I get it, although we're really not that complicated."

Shit.

Why had I said

that

? I shouldn't be having this conversation.

She smiled, encouraged, and tried to press on. "I...I've been dating some this semester but uh, it hasn't...ended well...with some of the guys in class..." She was blushing, now.

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you feel like the classroom environment isn't welcoming because they're in it? Allie, if that's impacting your attendance..."

She shook her head, then hesitated. "Not...not exactly...it's, um..." she shrugged, helplessly.

Well, now there was an entirely different question I had to ask, to make sure I got a clear answer, or I'd get in trouble later. Campus policies were

really

clear. "Allie...has anything...nonconsensual happened? Even something that maybe felt okay or a little uncomfortable in the moment but as you've thought about it more, feels..."

I trailed off because she was shaking her head, vehemently. "N-no. I appreciate you asking, but no, nothing like that...it's...well, it's hard to talk about, but I'm just gonna be direct, Trent. I...I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable." Her face was beet red now.

I nodded. "I understand. Please, you can share whatever you like." I was relieved I didn't have to report an assault. And I put on a carefully neutral expression. Now I thought I knew what she was going to say, and tried to steel myself not to react, not to look down at her tits, or flush.

"I've been, um, seeing a few of the guys in the class...and uh, none of them last very long, y'know, in...bed. They're all really embarrassed about it, after. They don't talk to me any more, kind of avoid me when I'm around. And I know they're all talking to each other about it, too. It...it's weird. Not like they're bullying me, they just...I think I remind them that they, y'know...um....came...quick." She trailed off slowly, finishing.

This was the longest series of sentences I had ever heard Allie string together. And I was kind of impressed. That was, based on what I had heard them saying, a pretty accurate read on what was going on.

I was also turned on. I had focused on making eye contact and not reacting, but I was fully hard now. I hoped it wasn't obvious. Her talking about it was just too hot -- she was more embarrassed about it than in my fantasy, but that almost made it hotter.

She wasn't even doing it on purpose.

These guys just couldn't help it.

Trying to keep eye contact with her, I said, sympathetically. "Ah, I see. Allie, guys at your age are inexperienced, still...learning about themselves, you know? That sounds really awkward right now, but I'm sure it'll--"

She cut me off, jumping in excitedly. "Yeah, it's really awkward in class, exactly. Isn't that a good reason I should get some extra credit? Maybe you can do some private TA sessions or something for me in the second half of the semester? Like I said, I'll show you what a good student I can be, this has just been--"