Kat Confessions - #1 Fucking the Teacher for a Grade

I thought it might be fun to start a new feature called Kat Confessions. I have plenty of secrets. Yes, I even have secrets I haven't shared with you, Prowlers. I thought I'd start with the time I fucked my way to a passing grade in a class.

I was a freshman in college.  The course was Calculus. Before I go any further, I need to say that I have since mastered the subject, but at the time it made no sense to me at all. I was really struggling, so the day before the deadline for dropping classes I went to the professor to let him know I'd be dropping the course.

He tried to talk me out of it. I did the best I could to explain to him that I could not afford to fail the class. I participated in some activities for which I had to maintain academic eligibility, and one of those was tied to scholarships. I wasn't going to let calculus  interfere with that.

Then he said, "What if I could guarantee you a passing grade?"

"How could you do that?" I asked.

He proceeded to tell me he would guarantee me a passing grade if I came to every single class session (not even one absence), turned in every single assignment, took every single test and quiz, and attended every small group tutoring session (offered five days a week in his office).

I clarified, "So even if I fail every test, I'll still get a passing grade as long as I do those things?"

"Yes," he said. "And one more thing....."

He paused. I got nervous. I was afraid he was going to say that I had to show positive progress over the semester (seriously, I had no clue what was going on in that class), so you can imagine how I relieved I was when he said that he wanted me to sleep with him once a week throughout the semester. That was the final requirement.

His inclusion of the sex part didn't come out of the blue. A couple of weeks before, I ran into him at a party. I was drunk.  He was charming, and he had a British accent.  Girls can't resist men with foreign accents. He was substantially older than me; I had just turned 18 and he had to be in his late 40's. But when he offered me a ride home as I was stumbling out of the party, the age difference didn't bother me at all. As he was driving toward my dorm, he asked, "Would you mind if we went to my place instead?"

There was a tiny voice inside me that was whispering that it might not be a great idea to fuck my calculus professor, but I arrogantly thought that I was a wise and worldly woman, so I agreed.

He lived about 40 minutes from campus, up in the mountains. The drive gave me plenty of time to start sobering up, which was disappointing because now I couldn't fool myself into thinking that I was drunk and unable to make rational decisions. No, I was heading fast to the sober side of the stream of thought and I was about to fuck my calculus professor. I turned and looked at him.  Yes, he had a British accent.  Yes, he was smart. But he really wasn't very attractive, at least not to an 18 year old girl woman. I remember thinking, I really hope he has a big dick.

We got to his house, which was really more like a cottage, a darling little place, and we went inside. He asked if I wanted some tea.  I didn't.  He pointed to the other room and said, "The bathroom is in there. The bed is over there.  You can hang your clothes on that chair.  I'll be in shortly." No pretense of romance. No getting in the mood. Okay.  I took off my clothes and crawled into bed. A few minutes later, he came in with a cup of tea in his hand.  He sat on the edge of the bed and drank his tea, making small talk. I can't even remember what he was talking about, but the whole situation seemed strange to me.

When he was finished with his tea, he stood up and took off his clothes and switched on the overhead light. Up until then, the only light had been from a lamp in the next room and the light in the kitchen. The light was so blinding that I covered my eyes. Then he pulled the covers off the bed so I had nothing to hide under. He stood there looking at me for a moment and he said, "Well, Miss Kat, I'm going to enjoy fucking you."

That's when I noticed his cock.  It was erect, of course, but that's not the first thing I noticed. Damn, I thought.  Average. It wasn't a bad cock, but I really had been hoping for something spectacular.

I scooched over to the edge of the bed where he was standing and I took his cock into my mouth and started sucking him. He exhaled loudly and grabbed me by the hair, guiding me to take him in deeply and come back until only the very tip was on my lips, then deeply again. He started moving me faster on him and moaning and I thought he was going to cum in my mouth, but instead he roughly pulled me off his cock and lifted his arm in the air so I was pulled up high on my knees and back a little. My hands were grasping for his hand to take the pressure off my scalp. My back was arched. My tits were thrust forward. I felt completely exposed in that brightly lit room. And for the first time, I was scared.

"You're too good at that, Kat," he said. "I don't want to cum yet. Not like that anyway." He pulled my hair tighter.  Was he really punishing me for being too good at giving head? I was confused.

He finally released me and pushed me back, telling me to lay on my back. As soon as I did, he grabbed my legs and pulled me to the edge of the bed. The height of the bed was perfect (I was sure that was no accident) and he slid inside me as he tugged me to closer to him one more time. I squealed a bit in shock, but he shot a chastising glance at me so I became quiet quickly. He grasped my ankles and spread my legs wide apart, and he started fucking me. It was slow at first, but within a couple of minutes it was forceful and violent.

He told me to keep my eyes on his. I was surprised at how uncomfortable that felt.  All I wanted to do was look away. Then he told me to pinch my nipples. And he fucked me harder.

I was there for about 6 hours and I did everything he told me to do. At times, he'd lay down to nap a bit.  When he did, he told me to kneel on the floor next to the bed, back a few feet so he could see me, with my knees spread wide apart and my hands clasped behind my neck. I could feel his cum dripping down my thighs, but I didn't dare move. When he woke up, he'd call me back to bed, tell me what to do, and he'd fuck me again.

As the sun was coming up, he came in my ass and then he told me to get dressed. I hurried to grab my clothes and I started getting dressed. He snapped at me, "No panties." He held out his hand and I handed him my panties.  Then I headed toward the bathroom.  He snapped at me again, "You can pee, but no cleaning up. I want my cum to be dripping out of you for awhile. And leave the door open."

What the fuck? I thought. This guy was weird, but it was kind of hot, too. I really wasn't sure what to think.

We went out to his car and before I got in, he told me to be sure to pull my skirt down far enough so I didn't get any cum on the seat. As we were driving down the mountain, he told me to give him my bra. I did.

As we approached campus, I reminded him what dorm to take me to, but he dropped me instead at the other end of campus, beyond the dining hall. When I asked him why, he said, "Give me your shoes.  You can pick them up in my office later."  I was still confused. Then he leaned over close to me and said, almost whispering, "Now, Kat, as you walk back to your dorm wearing the same clothes you wore last night, but without shoes, bra, or panties....and with my cum dripping out of your pussy and ass and running slowly down your thighs, I want you to think about what a slut you are. And as you walk by everyone heading to the dining hall for breakfast, I want you to think about how they know you're just coming in from a night of being fucked like a whore. Walk slowly, and think about that."

Then he kissed me - a deep, passionate kiss, the only kiss of the "date." After the kiss he said, "You really are a good fuck." I got out of the car and walked slowly back to my dorm, just as he told me to. My thighs and eventually my calves, too, were slick and wet with his cum. I saw a group of girls looking at me and whispering to each other. I saw several guys just starting at me as I completed my walk of shame. When I got back to my dorm, I went straight to the shower.

So, when he included weekly sex in his "offer" of help with my grade a couple of weeks later, I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew he wasn't just going to use my body, but I'd be getting weekly mind fucking as well.

I needed a few minutes to think about it. If I just dropped calculus, I'd have to take it again, and I'd be right here in this same position. But if I took it, I had to pass.  Failure could not be an option. And I knew there was only way I was going to pass. I told him ok.

There were ten weeks left in the semester at that point.  I attended every class, did every assignment, took every test and quiz (and failed them all), and attended every small group tutoring session. And every Thursday night at 7:00 I drove up to his house and did whatever he wanted me to do until 7:00 a.m. Three times, there was another girl there when I showed up, and he played with both of us and had us play with each other. Once, I had a chance to chat with her when it wasn't Thursday night.  I ran into her at the library and we found a private place to talk and it turned out that she had a similar arrangement with him, but she wasn't handling it so well. To me, it was like a business arrangement.  To her, it was.....something very ugly and humiliating.

There were three weeks left in the semester. I went to his office one afternoon and told him to let her out of the deal - just give her the passing grade and let her go. He said, "I will, but only if you cover her sessions, plus three more." That would mean that when we started the new semester, after winter break, I would have to do six more sessions with him. "But you let her go now, right? She can stop going to class, everything, and she gets a passing grade."  He smiled and nodded his head.  I felt relieved. "Okay then," I said. "I'll see you in class," and I left his office and went to tell her.  She cried.  We stayed good friends for years, and we did more than a few threesomes together.

The semester ended and grades came out. I got a C. Damn him, I thought.  Couldn't he have given me a B? That was the first and only C of my life. I had been a straight A student - until then. I couldn't really fault him, though.  A "C" was a passing grade and that's what he had agreed. It occurred to me that I could have negotiated that grade to be an "A" back when we were first striking the deal, but I clearly wasn't smart enough.

I called my friend.  She got her C, too. She was just glad it was over.  To be honest, so was I, except that it wasn't completely over for me, but the hard part was.

I went home for Christmas break and when I came back to campus there was a note in my mailbox. It was unsigned.  All it said was, "You owe me six sessions.  I'll see you Thursday at 7:00."

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If you missed the December Sex Blog post on Holiday Sex, find it here.