I handed it in by mistake…
I was supposed to have handed in an essay on experimental archaeology. Instead I handed in the silly thing I typed at my desk while listening to his lectures. I’d day dream about sucking his cock as he spoke about Vikings and other old boring things. It must’ve been all the talk about men taking whatever they wanted that inspired me. Whenever a naughty vision of myself at his knees, or new idea would flash in my mind, I’d pull up “Cocksucking: A How To” and add to my manual.
The same manual I printed off last week (thinking I’d be cute and post it anonymously in the bathroom at my dorm) along with my paper, and mistakenly turned in to my archaeology professor.
My very own Indiana Jones. The inspiration for my essay.
He was one of those ultra productive professors who graded papers right away. So it didn’t take long for me to receive an email after the horror of realizing my error. I was supposed to come before class the next day to discuss my paper and my grade.
Was he angry? Was he turned on? Are professors allowed to call your parents? Could I get kicked out of school? All these thoughts were swimming through my mind as I arrived and knocked tentatively at his door. He let me in and shut the door behind me. Without missing a beat, handed me my essay,
“If you put effort into your class work like you did this filth, you would be passing my class.”
All the air was sucked out of the room. Time stood still. My cheeks, which were pink before, must surely have been crimson. I couldn’t tell because I was numb from adrenaline. My whole body shook and I felt terror paint its way across my face.
“I’m not passing?” I managed to stammer.
“Not after missing this assignment, and frankly, I don’t know what you can do about it. My class rules and grading system are clear on this issue.”
I don’t know why, but I instinctively dropped to my knees as I whined and teared up. In an act of true desperation I begged:
“Please professor? Can’t I do something?”
He smirked cruelly. “Your essay claims to be the ultimate guide to cock sucking, “ he looked up at the clock, “if it is indeed 100% accurate, and you can prove it, I’ll accept and grade this essay in lieu of your missing one.”
My heart was in my ears and my throat. At least I was already on my knees. I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t leave school. I couldn’t fail this class and as much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself….. In the back of my mind….. I wanted this.
He knew it too.
“Hand it here and I will read it as you work.”
I looked up at him hopefully as I handed it over. Already on my knees, I sat on my heels in order to keep my back straight, pulled down his zipper and freed his already hard, throbbing cock. If I had been in any other situation, with any other man, I might’ve smirked to myself at how easy this job might actually be. His cock strained for my mouth, desperate for the hot, wet pleasure it was about to receive.
He wanted this too, of course.
I tentatively took him into my mouth and began working in and out. I glanced up at his face which was concentrating on my essay and as I hit a dutiful pace, I occasionally heard him chuckle or make understand-y noises as he read. I made sure to look up the whole time (just as I advised in my essay) which was good because he occasionally dropped the pages to watch me and my technique or to give me an arched eyebrow over something I’d written.
“Ah, so you’d like it if I squeezed your breasts while you give my cock kisses.” And, he did just that, reaching into the top of my blouse to squeeze and caress them as he continued to read.
“And you like your head to be controlled, huh?” he asks as he rolled the papers and held them along with a handful of hair he used to drive me down onto his cock.
I couldn’t help it. I moaned in pleasure and he smirked as he watched me.
After a while, he went back to reading. This happens with various parts of my essay, where he paused to act out a particular part I’ve written. He was right. I put a lot of time and effort into that manual. More than I ever should’ve.
By the time he was finished reading I was a wet, squirmy mess. My panties were soaked and my face was covered in saliva. He removed his still hard cock from my mouth and I whined and huffed. I wanted him. I wanted his cock. I didn’t want him to stop.
“Very good. Would you like to earn extra credit?”
Later, as I was sitting in his class feeling his cum leak out of me and watching him subtly adjust his pants as he lectured I realized I’d be needing a lot of tutoring in archaeology this year.