Chapter 19: Rutledge ll

-- FRIDAY, MARCH 17, 2006 --

"Ohhh ... shit..." I groaned, slumping deeper into my chair. Half-heartedly, I continued tapping at my keyboard, but the keys I struck were pretty much random and I accomplished nothing productive, especially given that the only program running was Notepad.

It had been Casey's idea to hide underneath my desk and give her "working" professor a blowjob. Casey had been coming up with a lot of ideas lately, nearly all of them involving my dick entering her body in some fashion. I was pretty okay with that, despite the increasing riskiness of her behavior. She used to restrict our office encounters to Fridays when there were less people around, and she used to restrict those Fridays to blowjobs. But lately? There was the time three weeks ago that she'd come during office hours, locked the door, and dropped to her knees. If a student had come, I would have had a hell of a time explaining the locked door with a pretty peroxide-blonde coed in my office. Fortunately, none did until five minutes after she left.

Then there was the Friday afternoon two weeks ago when she bent over the desk and ordered me to fuck her. I couldn't turn her down, and she didn't do a very good job of keeping her voice down. Sound-resistant isn't sound-proof, and I was fairly certain that bitch Professor Ice was in the hallway when Casey finally left, leaking my cum into her panties.

And Lord help me, ever since Valentine's Casey had made a habit of seducing Samantha. It had started over a month ago when she'd come to the office, locked the door, and proceeded to talk my teaching assistant into letting her eat her out. I'd stayed at my desk, one eye on the locked door while Casey crawled between Samantha's legs, pulled over the crotch of the older girl's panties, and shoved her tongue inside. Casey then talked me into giving her my cell number with promises of subsequent threesomes, and I'd spent a number of weekend nights holed up in my house with both of them.

Fuck, Casey had started texting me on weekdays, asking to drop by my house. Sometimes she didn't even bother to text; she simply showed up. I swear the girl had the sex drive of a rabbit during mating season.

And now she was under my desk, giving me a blowjob during office hours with an unlocked door AND Samantha sitting at my conference table helping me grade papers.

This was starting to get out of control.

"Oh, shit," I grunted, squeezing my eyes shut as Casey gave me a particularly hard suck while simultaneously taking me deep into her throat.

Fuck, if this girl ended up being the death of my career, what a way to go.

[knock, knock]

I jerked upright and looked over to the door. Slowly, it swung open and a gorgeous dirty-blonde poked her head in. "Professor? Is it okay to come in?"

Fighting off the urge to panic, I rolled my desk chair forward all the way, abruptly pinning Casey underneath my desk. Fortunately, both Peyton Kent and the open doorway were on the opposite side, and since the desk back ran all the way to the floor no one would be able to see my hidden fellatrix, as long as she didn't make a sound.

I glanced over at Samantha, who was blushing at me. But fortunately, her presence at the conference table gave me an excuse to point Peyton into a chair on the opposite side of the desk. "Come in, Peyton. Open office hours..." I said neutrally, biting out the last three words with a sigh. Why did Casey have to be sooo fucking good at blowjobs that I couldn't resist her?

"Actually, I wanted to talk about my progress in the class," Peyton said with a sigh as she slumped into the chair opposite me. She had the demeanor of a defeated young woman. "That second midterm didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

"Well, as I said, these are open office hours. If you'd like to discuss your overall performance in detail, we can set up a private meeting for another time." I managed a tight smile, perfectly cognizant that we weren't alone. Office hours were usually for general discussions: clarification of lectures, tips on homework, that sort of thing. There would often be multiple students in the room, or Samantha's presence at the very least. Seducing pretty coeds into bartering sex for better grades usually happened in private. While both Samantha and Casey had to know that I was willing to "adjust" a student's grades for the right price, both of them had been far more willing partners. And since neither of them had ever been subject to the kind of methods I'd already used on Peyton, I'd rather they not be around for that kind of discussion.

"I don't mind Samantha being around for this." But Peyton shook her head. In fact, she looked rather relieved that a third party was present. "It'll just be a minute. And if it's about 'open office hours', I wouldn't mind going over the midterm with you to talk about some of the mistakes I made. I mean, I know I didn't do very well, but I honestly thought I did better than a 67."

I smiled, though behind my smile my teeth were almost grinding. The absolute LAST thing I wanted was an extended discussion with Peyton while Casey was trapped beneath my desk. The longer this went on the harder it would be for Casey to keep quiet, and the more likely it was that we'd get caught. "Of course my dear, but we've only about fifteen minutes left before the end of office hours, and it IS a Friday afternoon. I'm sure we both have many plans for our weekends. Really, I'd be happy to go over the midterm with you in greater detail next week, either in a private student-teacher meeting or during Monday's office hours. It's up to you."

Peyton's shoulders slumped. "It's just ... I can't get a 'D' in this course. I need a 'C' or I won't graduate!"

"I'm aware of the Econ major requirements."

"Please, sir. Aren't there any extra-credit assignments I can do to help catch up?"

I couldn't help it. The moment she suggested "extra-credit" my eyes gleamed for a moment as my gaze darted to Peyton's exposed cleavage. She wore a scooping V-neck today, and almost immediately she averted her gaze and covered herself with a hand.

"Professor, sir," she said, briefly glancing over to Samantha before scrutinizing the floor. Then she repeated carefully. "I wish to know if there are any academic assignments I might be able to complete to improve my overall score."

I sighed. "All assignments that count as credit toward your grade are in the syllabus. The semester is not yet over. While your scores to date put you firmly in the 60s, it is the result of two midterms and the collected assignments of the first half of the course. You still have the second half of assignments plus the third exam and the final, which combined will outweigh these first two midterms. Really, you still have all the power in the world to raise up your score through the existing academic assignments."

Peyton nodded slowly, but suddenly my attention wasn't on her anymore. My hands abruptly gripped the armrests and I had to stifle a groan. That saucy minx Casey had decided to slurp my half-hard cock back into her mouth.

"Thank you, Professor. I think I understand."

Putting on my best smile, I replied casually, "It's 'Henry', remember?"

Peyton stood up and shot me a harsh glare that was anything but friendly. "I remember, Professor." She turned and walked to the open door.

Casey had resumed sucking me, and as I found myself staring up and down Peyton's gloriously fuckable body, I had started hardening again. She really did have an amazing ass, and with my heart racing in my chest, I thought again about how perhaps I wanted this girl a little TOO much to be completely safe.

Perhaps feeling the heat of my gaze, the gorgeous dirty-blonde coed paused at the doorway and turned around. She caught me ogling her, and like an idiot I jerked my eyes away and felt my ears burn. And then she was gone.

Quickly, Samantha got up and closed the door, locking it with finality. Turning back to us, she hissed at the desk, "That was close! Either get out of there or hurry the fuck up!"

Fortunately for me, Casey decided on "hurry the fuck up". Rolling me back out into the open so that she could bob her head up and down without braining herself on the underside of my desk, she took my cock in both hands and rotated her fists in opposite directions while sucking powerfully on my crown. Despite going from hard to soft and then back to hard again, I already felt the tingling in my balls that signaled an eruption. And maybe thirty seconds later, I began ejecting gouts of hot lava that sprayed deep into my undergraduate coed's belly.

Wiped out momentarily, both from the ejaculation as well as the close call with Peyton, I slumped back against my chair in a daze.

Casey swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. And then sitting back on her heels, she looked up at me with an inquisitively arched eyebrow. "That was Peyton Kent? She's in one of your classes?"

I was still dazed, so Samantha answered for me. "She's in Corporate Finance. Tuesdays and Thursdays. They got their midterms back yesterday."

Casey made a face. "I know her. She's a tough one to crack, and she's not going to put out for you. She'd think it beneath her, no matter how badly she's doing in the class."

'Wanna bet?' was the first though into my mind, although I would never say it out loud. Doing my best to wipe the smirk off my face, I glanced down at Casey and shrugged. "Whether a student passes or fails is entirely up to them. You both know I never forced either of you into doing anything. I'm not going to make a student do anything against her will. If anything, I provide my students with an extra option, an available choice they wouldn't have in most other classes. I'm doing them a favor, really."

"Hmph, a favor? I'll bet." Casey shook her head wryly.

"Would you have passed Corporate Finance otherwise, my dear?" I asked her. "Would you be passing THIS semester either?"

Casey shrugged, but she conceded the point. "Okay no, I wouldn't. But don't act like you're doling out these favors from the goodness of your heart. You want in Peyton's panties, and badly, don't you?"

I sighed and shrugged. "The choice is hers."

-- TUESDAY, APRIL 4, 2006 --

Swinging opening one of the cabinets above my desk, I parked my face in front of the mirror affixed to the back side of the door and checked my appearance. Vanity was a vice I couldn't resist, and even though it was just another Tuesday, I HAD to be sure I looked my best. I ran my fingers through my thick, wavy hair. I sighed to notice how deep my wrinkles were getting. And I fixed the rolled-up sleeves of my shirt before heading over to my office door and then walking out.

Two people were already in the hallway, and instinctively my genially pleasant façade went onto my face, no matter how I truly felt inside. Really, I sort of detested both of the people there. Viktoriya Isakova I hated because she was unattainable, gorgeous, fuckable, and actively disinterested in me. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was a bitter lesbian. Thing is, I knew for a fact that she fucked guys.

That's because I'd heard her fucking the young man she was with now, among others. While I messed around with my students during the school year, Professor Ice confined her activities to her summer interns. This past summer it had been Marco Latini. The year before it had been Ben. No big deal. I certainly didn't judge her for wanting to screw college students. But I still hated her for rejecting me.

My hatred for Ben was more by association. The guy had honestly never done anything to me. He was an excellent student and had never said an unkind word to me. But ever since the Dawn Evans incident, I had noticed something in his eyes whenever he looked at me. He knew; he had to. His girlfriend had told him what had happened that day after her Final, and it ... unnerved me ... to walk around the campus and even teach a guy who knew what I'd tried to do to his girlfriend, especially since she'd promptly dumped him and then left the school entirely.

At least I never actually nailed her. If I had, I was sure Ben would be giving me much worse than dirty looks. But I didn't like that he knew about me and Dawn, and I didn't like the looks that he gave me, and I didn't like that he was so chummy with Viktoriya. I didn't like either of them, but still I smiled genially and said, "Hello Viktoriya. Hello Ben."

Ben shot me that evil look. Viktoriya's expression wasn't much better. Hey, -I- was making an effort to appear civil. Why couldn't they? Instead of responding with some polite nothing, both of them turned their backs on me.

Whatever. Fuck 'em. I didn't need to spend my entire life trying to make people like me. With a disapproving sigh I wanted them both to hear, I turned and headed down the stairs to class.

-- SATURDAY, APRIL 8, 2006 --

"C'mon, Samantha. It's a Saturday night! I thought you'd be happy to go out tonight."

"I'm busy," my teaching assistant replied brusquely over the phone, a tone I'd been hearing a lot of the last couple of days. Maybe she was on her period or something. When was her last cycle? I couldn't remember.

"What, you got a hot date?"

She sighed wearily. "No, not that it's any of your business."

"You're my girlfriend. Of course it's my business."

"Girlfriend? Ha! Taking me out to dinner once every three weeks so you don't feel so bad for how often you're fucking me does NOT make me your girlfriend. Have you ever bought me roses? Have you ever talked to me about our feelings? Huh, Henry?"

"Whoa, whoa. What's with all the anger?" Sheesh. Maybe she WAS on her period. If that was the case, then maybe I'd be better off calling Casey instead.

"You know, if you're so hard up, why don't you call your bimbo teenager slut?" Samantha said hotly.

"She's not a teenager. And maybe I will!"

"Fine! Have a nice night!" Samantha then hung up.

I stared at my phone, wondering what bug had gotten into her. Yeah, I'd seen the signs of discontent for a couple of weeks now. While she'd started off as just another one of my undergraduate coed conquests three years ago, Samantha had gotten used to a sort of preferential status being my teaching assistant for the last two academic years. Sure, she'd long known I still screwed coeds for grades on the side, but I did spend most of my weekends with her, not to mention our occasional interludes in the office.

Still, after nearly two full years I'd never made her my official "girlfriend". Status quo had been good enough for a long while, and she'd never complained about it until just recently. Maybe this was her way of trying to get my attention, withholding sex unless I started giving her commitment signals. If that was the case, she was sadly mistaken. Samantha was a convenient lay, and I liked her. But there were always more coeds, and by now I was fucking Casey far more often than her. If anything, I'd find it harder to replace Samantha as my T.A.

Maybe that was part of the problem: Casey. Although Samantha would still participate in threesomes, after the first month or so she decided she really was straight and the girl-on-girl action started to tail off, except for occasions when she really wanted to titillate me. But even apart from the lesbian stuff, like I said I'd started fucking Casey more often than her. Not my fault, really. It was Casey doing the initiating, sending me dirty texts and naked picture messages and showing up at my house unannounced wearing nothing but a trench coat. What was I supposed to do, turn her down?

So Samantha didn't want to come over and suck my dick. Fine. I could do without her. Flipping open my cell phone once again, I dialed my student fuck-buddy and waited for her to pick up the end of the line.

She didn't.

The call went to her voicemail, and I hung up. Tapping my foot, I briefly thought about calling someone else. The only problem was: I HAD no one else. Roselyn Marquez had let me pork her from behind that night after Valentine's to get an 'A' on the first midterm. But miracle of miracles, after that she'd started to improve her scores entirely on her own. She was still only in the mid-80s, even with that first midterm 'A', but it was enough that she quite likely wouldn't need to give me even a single blowjob to pass the class. And Jennifer Chiu was plodding along in the high-70s. Maybe if I'd fudged her grades the way I'd been fudging Peyton's, I could have put her in the danger zone. The cute little Chinese girl's cunt had been SOOO tight last year. But that was last year, and she didn't need me this year. Too bad.

This was Casey's fault. She'd been screwing me blind for the last month, so that I hadn't even attempted to seduce anyone new, apart from my long-term Peyton plans. Her huge involvement in my life had also put off Samantha, and now she wasn't even answering her phone when I called. Fuck!

Or more to the point: I was NOT getting fucked tonight.

-- MONDAY, APRIL 10, 2006 --

"Miss McCahill. Please stay a moment?"

The peroxide-blonde in the front row looked up, and then sighed regretfully as she said something to her friend in the desk beside her. Both of them packed away their belongings, but then the friend got up and departed while Casey remained in her seat.

I dealt with both students who had come to ask questions of me after class, and then they left, leaving me alone in the room with my personal slutty coed. But she didn't get up, slumped in her seat while looking up at me. "What do you want? Besides the obvious?" she asked sullenly.

I frowned and folded my arms over my chest, but did not approach her, perfectly aware that we were in a public classroom with the door wide open. "Where were you all weekend? I texted and called you a bunch of times."

"I'm on my period."

"I still needed a blowjob."

"PMS. I wasn't in the mood."

"Casey..."

"Look. I think I've sucked and fucked you plenty of times to earn my grade in this class, alright?" she hissed before glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping on us. "I'm sorry if you missed me, but don't you have Samantha for that sort of thing too?"

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "She's ... she's mad at me. Honestly, I think because I've been spending so much of my time with you."

Casey shrugged. "Not my fault she's in love with you."

I blinked. "I take it that you're not."

She snorted. "The naughty student-professor thing has been fun. And you're a great lay. But no, love never entered the equation."

I shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but then taking on a pleading expression, I asked, "Can you come up to my office? I've got some serious blue balls here."

Shaking her head, Casey got up and hoisted her backpack. "Seriously, Henry, I'm NOT in the mood. Maybe if you got cramps like I do every month you'd understand. Looks like it's rosy palm and her five sisters for the next few days. Maybe by Friday I'll be done. I'll see you later."

Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.

-- THURSDAY, APRIL 13, 2006 --

"Samantha, will you please get me the folder on Working Capital?"

"It's in the drawer. Get it yourself," my lissome blonde T.A. barked from the conference table.

I pursed my lips, an angry retort welling up my throat. But I held my tongue and shook my head. Yelling at her wouldn't help my cause any. Samantha had been giving me the cold shoulder all week, her answers clipped and her eye contact minimal. As my teaching assistant, it was necessary for her to be in the same room as me quite often, and yet much of the time it seemed like she was in another zip code entirely.

I'd tried buttering her up this week. I paid her compliments and tried to impress upon her how important she'd become in my life. I bought her flowers, but apologized that we couldn't make her my official girlfriend just yet. She was still my T.A., and at least until the end of the year, a formal relationship would be highly frowned upon by the department. But in the meantime, I really wanted to resume the intimacy of our previous arrangement.

She didn't agree, not yet at least. She hadn't touched me sexually since last Tuesday, and I didn't know if she ever would again. But with Casey out of commission and all my other student prospects dried up, I had to try. Samantha had been too good of a fuck for me to NOT try and resuscitate our relationship. Otherwise I'd be just another perverted old man trying to pick up young chicks in bars and other campus hangouts.

So I tried to think of something nice to say to Samantha now, but before I could, a new ray of hope appeared in my doorway. "Hello Professor. Hello Samantha," Peyton Kent said, clutching a binder over her chest with her backpack slung over her shoulders. "May I come in?"

"Come in, Peyton," I replied genially. "Open office hours ... What can I do for you?"

The gorgeous dirty-blonde coed frowned as she took the chair on the other side of my desk. "I wanted to discuss the midterm we got back today."

I nodded sagely. "Third and final one."

"It ... uh..." Peyton's eyes looked haunted as she stared at some point below the level of the desk. "My grade wasn't what I'd hoped."

"I'm sorry."

"I really thought I did better than a 73."

Actually, she did. On paper, her midterm deserved an 83 at least, but I'd fudged several deductions to drop her an additional ten points, not to mention recording her score in the computer as a 63. I couldn't have her earning a 'C' all on her own, not if I was going to get inside that cunt before the semester ended. Once she did put out for me, I'd fix her scores back and nobody would ever be the wiser.

But of course I didn't say that. Instead, I replied, "I would have hoped you did as well. Your homework this past week has shown great improvement."

"Thanks. I finally took your advice and started studying with a friend."

My eyebrows popped. That was a bit of a surprise, and I was glad I hadn't screwed around with her homework score last week. Taking a deep breath, I replied, "Well I hope it pays off for you in the long run. Your overall score is still solidly anchored in the 60s, but there's hope yet. Excellent marks for the next four weeks and an 'A' on the Final, and you'll easily pass the class."

My words were encouraging, but rather than look hopeful, Peyton only paled even further. Licking her lips, she stared at that point beneath the surface of my desk again and sighed. "And a 'B'?

I sighed. "That depends. I'd have to crunch the numbers, to be honest. But a 'B' might not be enough to lift your overall grade into the 70s, not with three consecutive sub-par midterms. To be safe, you'll really need an 'A'."

"That's just the thing. I'm not confident I can get an 'A' on the final."

"Sure you can. It takes nothing more than boning up on the required material."

Peyton flinched at the term 'boning', and I inwardly cursed myself for the innuendo. I hadn't meant to say it that way. With some students, a little innuendo went a long way and could be interpreted as flirting. But with cold fish like Peyton, any stray remarks would only put them on the defensive. It really had been too long since I'd been properly laid.

"Is there really no extra-credit I can earn?" she pleaded helplessly. I'd seen the same expression in the eyes of many a young coed, often right before they agreed to suck my dick.

"We've discussed this before. All academic assignments that count toward your grade are in the syllabus."

Peyton pursed her lips together, her eyes momentarily flicking over to Samantha. When she'd first entered the room, she'd looked relieved to find my T.A. present. Perhaps she thought herself safer from my leering that way. But now, Peyton looked rather wary of the other girl, as if she'd rather not say anything further while a witness was present.

Sensing my opportunity, I leaned forward and placed my forearms on the desk. "However, simply by mastering the remaining assignments, you CAN raise up your grade to the point where you need it. Studying with a friend can help in that regard, but I've offered before and will offer again, we could work out some private tutoring time between you and me."

Peyton stewed over that before darting a glance back over to Samantha.

My T.A. caught the look, and then Samantha looked over at me with a curious expression. Taking a deep breath, she got up out of her chair and asked, "Would you like some coffee, Henry? I'm getting some for myself and I'd be happy to fetch you a cup as well."

"That would be lovely, Samantha. Thank you." I silently thanked my T.A. as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. For as cold as she'd been to me for the last week and a half, Samantha still knew the way I operated with these desperate students. And I was quite glad she was still willing to help me out.

Now alone, Peyton turned back and stared warily at me. "Exactly what would these ... ah ... tutoring ... sessions entail ... Henry?"

My eyes lit up with Peyton's use of my first name. I was pretty sure she already understood what would be necessary, but I still wouldn't say such a thing out loud; my disaster with Dawn Evans had taught me that much. Steepling my fingers, I replied carefully, "It would be one-on-one time between you and me to review the class material and ensure your understanding of it."

"And these would be academic discussions?"

I took another careful pause, wanting to ensure we were on the same page. "Yes, academic discussions. They would involve whatever understanding you required to maximize your course grade."

"And would my 'understanding' require any ... NON-academic extra-credit?"

"Peyton, surely you know that would not be an appropriate question to ask your professor."

Pursing her lips, Peyton mused on that before picking her head up and staring at me intently. "So what I've heard ... that a blowjob will get me a 'B' on an assignment but I'd have to let you fuck me to get an 'A' ... isn't true?"

"Peyton! I don't know where you heard such a baseless rumor, and I insist that you tell me who is spreading such foul lies!"

She looked away, nearly in tears. She bit her lip and wrung her hands, staring at the side wall. "I just need to know what I can do to graduate on time."

The gorgeous coed appeared so helpless, and so desperate, that I sensed my time had truly come. Oh, I couldn't say anything out loud. Certainly I didn't want to use any words that could be captured on a recorder and used against me (not again). But sometimes body language spoke louder than words, and I got up and circled around to stop directly in front of her before sitting my butt on the desk edge.

"We've already discussed private tutoring," I intoned quietly. "And I think you already understand how you can best ensure your academic success."

Placing my hands on the edge of the desk to either side of my hips, I spread my knees slightly. I'd formed a massive erection from the mere idea of watching Peyton's pouty lips puckered around my penis, not to mention the agony of having gone without sex for over a week. My cock made quite the bulge through the soft material of my slacks, and Peyton's eyes went wide as she stared at it.

"Henry..." she said quietly, gulping before glancing over at the door. She was worried that Samantha would return any moment. She then looked up at me before staring at the floor and starting to softly cry. Wringing her hands once more, she shuddered and then took a deep breath. And with a final mournful moan, she said, "I understand."

Victory! I smiled and reached down to gently caress her cheek. She recoiled momentarily, but I kept my palm against her skin, and reluctantly she returned her head to its normal position and endured my hand's touch. "Shall we schedule your first private session?"

Grimacing, Peyton nodded.

"Tomorrow. 7pm. Come here to my office, understand?"

Still grimacing, she nodded again.

Lifting her chin so that her gaze met mine, I leaned over and smiled, my eyes glittering. "I look forward to it."

-- FRIDAY, APRIL 14, 2006 --

The clock chimed five o'clock, and my teaching assistant packed up her bag. Samantha had been just as cold and distant as ever, and I'd started to realize I would never get her back the way we'd once been. She'd realized I never saw her as anything more than a beck and call, and that she'd never get to become my official girlfriend.

To be honest, I hadn't made much of an effort to convince her otherwise, at least not today. I had mentally moved on as well, knowing that tonight I would finally have the girl I'd been lusting after so desperately all semester: Peyton Kent. Samantha would go through the motions for another month or so, until she was no longer my T.A., and then we'd go our separate ways. In the meantime, I was already working out how to convince Peyton she'd need to bend over for me at least once a week from now until graduation to ensure her grade. And hey, once Casey got off her period, I figured she'd return to the fold just like we'd been all semester.

Samantha? Who needed Samantha? Not me, not when I had gorgeous younger girls like Casey and Peyton to satisfy my carnal lusts. I'd banged Samantha more times than I could count already, and there's nothing better than fresh pussy.

"I'll see you next week, Samantha," I said, actually shooing her out the door with my hands as I smiled and then turned to look out my office window.

"Goodbye, Henry," she replied to my back, an almost heartbroken tone in her voice.

I could sense her lingering, and I didn't hear her open the office door. So I turned around and saw her standing there, staring at me with some tears in her eyes. Frowning, I took two steps forward and asked, "What's wrong?"

She retreated as I stepped toward her, shaking her head in the negative. And then sniffling away her tears, she turned quickly and opened the door, almost running through before jerking it shut behind her.

Well that was weird. But no matter. In less than two hours I'd have my long awaited private session with 21-year-old goddess Peyton Kent. Thoughts of her body, stripped bare before me, consumed my mind. But I shook the thoughts away and forced myself to focus. She wasn't here yet, and I still had things to do. The plan was to leave the building and go get dinner. And only just before 7pm would I return in secret to an empty building, and then I would finally have my prize.

Collecting my keys and jacket from my desk, I started making my way out of the office. But before I could get to the door, it swung open and a curvaceous peroxide-blonde coed slipped inside.

"Hey Henry!" Casey beamed at me. "Guess what? My period's done!"

"What are you doing here?"

The impish coed rolled her eyes and gave me a 'Well, duh' expression. I was only a couple of feet in front of her, and she immediately sank to her knees to work my zipper down. "I just told you my period's done. Thought you were smarter than that."

"But I was just ... uh ... well ... Okay. I can do this." I nodded agreeably. While Casey's sudden arrival was unplanned, it was not unwelcome. Like I said, I'd gone FAR too long without having sex, and I wasn't going to turn down a sure thing. Besides, being overly anxious when Peyton arrived might have led to a poor performance on my part. I still had nearly two hours before she came, so popping a cork right now would probably work in my favor. I'd have plenty of time to recover and wouldn't start my "private tutoring" with a loaded gun.

Dropping my pants and briefs to my ankles, Casey extracted my cock and began stroking it. I was already half-hard, and I was quickly getting to full hardness when she suddenly took me in her mouth. But it was only for a quick suck before she sat back on her heels and resumed stroking. "So?" she began conversationally. "I heard you've got Peyton Kent coming by the office tonight."

I blinked in surprise and gawked down at my fellatrix. "Where did you hear THAT?"

"Little birdie..." Casey smiled smugly. "Relax. Not many people know, and it's not like any of them WANT a rumor like that getting around. I have to admit that I'm impressed. Didn't think you'd be able to bag her. Totally thought her pride would win out first."

"Yes, well. I can be quite persuasive."

Casey snorted before leaning in and licking my cock. "More like she's totally desperate to graduate. I am surprised about one thing, though. She's usually a much better student than this. Better than me, certainly. Now I know I had my problems passing Corporate Finance, but I'd have thought she could handle it."

I shrugged. "She's not bad. She's not great, but not that bad."

"Bad enough apparently to need your special kind of help."

"Well..."

"What?" Casey stopped, giving me a quizzical look before suddenly coming to a realization. "Did you... ? Did you mess with her grades?"

"Casey! That would be a gross misuse of my authority!"

"You DID, didn't you?" Her eyes lit up and she grinned evilly. "Holy shit, that's insane! You actually fucked with her grades in order to get her to fuck you!"

"Why, I would never--"

"Come on, Henry. It's me, not some narc. And I'm not as dumb as I look." She bent forward and resumed sucking my prick, which had softened just a bit in my momentary panic. She pulled off again and said plainly, "Seriously. I'm on my knees with your dick in my mouth. Just tell me the truth. Did you fuck with her grades?"

"Well..." I hedged, wincing.

"Wait, did you fuck with MY grades?" Casey suddenly stared at me accusingly.

"No! No." I reached down and caressed Casey's cheek. "Sorry, sweetie, but you messed up that midterm last semester all on your own."

"Yeah..." she replied to my cock, eyeing it head on. "Kinda knew that. But you did mess with Peyton's grades, didn't you?"

I sighed. "I had to. She'd be in the mid-70s if I hadn't, and would be passing the class on her own. Like I said, she's not THAT bad. Not great, but not that bad."

"Hmph ... So you DID fuck with her grades," Casey mused, stroking my cock twice more before letting it go and sitting back on her heels. Shaking her head, she looked up at me sadly and said, "That's what I thought."

I frowned, not yet understanding. But then a sense of horror began spreading across my consciousness as Casey stood up and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She waggled it in front of me, enough so that I could see the display showed an active call. And then hitting the END button, she turned and walked over to my office door.

The door swung open. I saw the people standing immediately outside. And then everything went black.