Helen walked with the rest of the new graduate students, wandering through East Quad, feeling bored and restless. Her first day seemed staid and uneventful, not at all what she had imagined during her undergraduate years. "Such a shame," she thought, disappointed. The boys she met were still all immature and tedious; they stared at her tight tank top, but seemed scared and had no sense of how to talk to her.
As the tour continued, a boy named joined late. He had a strong chin, green eyes and long dark hair. His pants hung low, he wore a Velvet Acid Christ t-shirt, his head bobbing to music blaring from his Ipod. Helen watched as he basically ignored the group, and when he finally looked up she smiled, catching his grin.
The tour wandered through the dorm, the guide droning about majors and Internet access and food packages. Helen moved herself next to Mr. Acid Christ, their shoulders and arms bumping more regularly than needed. Helen felt electric as she noticed his eyes peaking at her nipples erect and jutting through the white cotton.
"I like your piercings," he grinned.
"You haven't seen them all yet." She moved away slightly, knowing his eyes were following.
As they walked, her fingers touched his forearms or shoulders as she talked, pushing against him as she laughed. As they walked back a hallway mirror, she could see how hot she looked in her tank top and mini skirt, the cheeks of her bottom barely contained by the fabric, her blond hair dancing on her shoulders, her legs long. As their eyes met in the mirror, she bumped back into him, feeling his growing erection against her ass as they stood pretending to listen.
As the tour ended, Helen turned and walked slowly from the group, knowing he would follow. "Hey, want to go get a coffee," he stammered, trying not to stare at her cleavage.
"I wanted to see some more of the dorm, do you mind going with me?"
"Ah, mmm, sure," he smiled.
"I hear they have music rooms that are sound proof and very private," she giggled, taking his hand. She wandered down a quiet hall the tour had passed earlier in the day, and pulled him into an empty room, closing the door.
"Wow," he stuttered, leaning to kiss her.
Kissing back hard, then pulling away she leaned her head back and put her finger in her mouth. "I am feeling like such a naughty girl," she cooed. Sinking to her knees, she unbuckled his pants, and pulled out the head of his cock. Licking, she looked up at him with big eyes. "You don't mind if I suck on you, do you?" she purred, and he could only nod, his cock rock hard and already pulsating. And she began to tease and tickle the head with her lush ripe lips.
As she started to push her mouth over his cock, the door suddenly opened. Helen fell back, her skirt riding up over her thong, the carpet rough on her bottom. She looked up to see Professor Demetre, the Dean of Admissions, glowering down at her. The boy, for whom she realized she had never asked his name, yelped, zipped up and bolted by the anger administrator.
Professor Demetre stood over Helen, and in a deep baritone voice toned, "Young lady, if you don't want to end up in trade school or working at 7 -- 11, you will follow me immediately to my office." He turned and walked out. Helen rose, straightened herself in a panic, thought of running, but scared, followed dutifully.
He held open his office door, and as she entered he barked, "Sit!" She sat in a chair facing a broad oak desk, the cool smoothness of the leather soft on her thighs as her skirt shrugged upwards despite her tugging.
Professor Demetre paced slowly about the room, "Miss, I met your parents this morning, what do you think they will say when I describe the indelicate position in which I discovered you?"
Tears started to form in Helen's eyes, "You can't tell them."
"Oh, yes I can, I am obligated to, and they have a right to know about the lustful slutty ways of their daughter."
"No you can't, please, there must be some way?"
"My dear, you should have thought of that before you knelt to suck that young man, do you even know him?"
Helen sighed, and shook her head, feeling panicked and desperate. She looked about the room, her eyes not even noticing the diplomas and awards, or the broad wooden fraternity paddle adorning the wall.
"Miss, I worry not only about your parents, but given your lascivious behavior, I may need to notify the other schools on your list."
"Please, Professor, I am begging you, I will do anything, I promise you I will behave."
He moved in front of the desk and sat down, his knees directly in front of her, his eyes looking down sternly. Squirming in her seat, trying to pull her skirt down, aware of how tight her top was, Helen thought she noticed a flash of something else in his gaze.
"I am sympathetic to your position, and I certainly want to promote your education, but how am I to trust you, given your promiscuous ways?"
"Oh Professor, I will work hard to earn your trust, I will do anything, just give me a chance to prove myself."
"My lessons may be more than you are ready for Helen," he whispered gruffly, leaning his face into hers. "Are you really ready to prove yourself for me?"
Helen pulled back in the chair, surprised, shocked, and although to scared to admit, aroused. "Sir, what are you asking?" She looked up, her eyes pleading and alive.
