I know I don't have a commanding appearance. I'm 5'1" and young for a professor, some students mistake me for one of them, and when I have to talk to the football players for missing too many classes they're all at least a whole foot taller than me. It's not the best for trying to be a firm teacher. I learned quickly that for those football boys, you need a firm hand. Dropping words like failing with an unforgiving tone is a surefire way to get their attention. Another is to dress the part. I'm not talking porn shoot teacher, although I will admit I've considered it for some of the more stubborn students. I usually wear pencil skirts, I've got a killer ass, and thighs that could crush a watermelon. I hear guys like that. My blouses are usually one button too many undone, just to give a glimpse. My tits aren't the show, my lecture is.
There's one boy, bullheaded, 6'3" total jock type, who gives me trouble every semester. I'm the head of the English department, and he's technically an English major, so he's had no end to my lectures. Whether it's in class, or when I make him stay after to scold him for late work or slacking off, or missing classes. I know the game schedule, I have told the coach that if his students miss my classes I will fail them. He knows I will, and schedules around what I give him. So when the football players show up saying it was for practice I give them a 0. I'm didn't get to be head of the department by handing out A's.
Alexander comes into my office at least once a week complaining about my grades, saying my classes are too hard, a fun new excuse for every absence. Alexander is big, he's around 250 lbs, and like I said, over a foot taller than me. He makes me look like a toddler in size comparison. It's a friday, so normally students rush out, but today as I sit in my office I get a knock. It's him.
"Miss Z you gave me the wrong grade!" He says, walking in without me inviting him. I look over my glasses at him with a bland expression. I most certainly did not. He has a paper clutched in his massive paw and he puts it on my desk. It's the last quiz I gave about the novel the Scarlet Letter. "I studied and everything, and you gave me a D." He said urgently.
"Did you read the book?" I asked. He looked at me like I was being unreasonable.
"I read the sparknotes." He said impatiently.
"I could tell by your answers. The assignment was to read the book, so you failed to fill the requirements I gave." I said looking at the paper he'd deposited.
"You can't expect me to read that whole book." He huffed.
"I actually can." I said turning back to the papers I was grading.
"It's your fault." He said, a bald accusation, but of what, I was unsure. I looked at him over my glasses again, expecting more explanation. "You dress like that and expect us to be able to pay attention." He said.
"Like what?" My tone was warning, but he seemed to not notice.
"Like a slut." He said barreling ahead. "All I do in class is think about fucking you, how can I learn in that kind of environment?"
"Excuse me?" I was shocked. I'd heard of a lot of excuses, most from Alexander, but this one was new. I almost laughed. "I'm eleven years your elder." I noted. He was 19, barely out of highschool, he was naive.
"Your tits out and your ass-"
"I think you need to leave my office and rethink this line of argument." I said.
"Someone has to say it, Miss Z." He shrugged, like it was common to think so lewdly about their professor. "Maybe if I got it out of my system I'd do better in your class." He closed my office door. I stared at him wide eyed, was he really suggesting-
"I'd lose my job." I protest.
"Only if we tell." He rounds my desk and pulls my glasses off.
"This is wrong." I protest, he has hold of my wrist, pulling me out of my seat.
"It's for the betterment of my academics. Don't you want me to succeed?" He asked, pushing me backwards against my bookshelf.
"Alexander-"
"It's for my future, Miss Z." He pushed a knee between my thighs as he pinned my wrists above me. I stared up at him, he made me feel so small, so helpless. With his free hand he pulled roughly on my blouse, straining the buttons to the point where two popped open, spilling my tits out onto his hands. He grinned, his meaty hand going to palm them greedily. "I wanted to fuck you for so long." He sighed as his hand slid between my tit and my bra, pushing the lacy fabric down for full access. "I know you thought about it, the way you dress. I'd bet anyone with an A in your class is fucking you for it." He pulled roughly on my tit and I whimpered. His hand moved to my skirt, pulling it up around my waist.
"Of course these stockings are thigh highs. God you're a little whore." He grinned, dropping to one knee to bury his nose in my pussy. The lacy material matched my bra and some part of my brain was glad I'd worn my cute underwear for this. The hand that was on my wrists let go to press his fingers to my pussy through the fabric. "You're so wet." He moaned. He hooked a finger around them and slid them off, stuffing them in his pocket. There was a knock at my door and we both froze. Quick as a dart he hid under my large mahogany desk, and I adjusted my blouse and bra as best I could before going to sit at my desk with Alexander between my legs.
"Come in." I called. Andrew took that as permission, as pressed his face to my pussy. I stifled my surprise with a flutter of papers. Letty walked in, a student from Alexander's class.
"Hi Professor Zavier, I just wanted to ask about what we were doing next. You didn't say the next book in class, since we finished the Scarlet Letter. Alexander pushed two fingers into me, his mouth licking and nibbling. I tried to focus on what Letty was saying.
"Must've slipped my mind, I'll send out an email with the information tonight." I said, hoping Letty would accept this.