CONTENT: class, quickie, professor and student, age gap.
CHAPTER 1
Carrie tapped her foot impatiently, glancing down at her watch. Class was almost over, and she was looking forward to getting home. History was not her favorite subject.
Professor Armstrong surveyed his classroom as he wrapped up his lecture about Antebellum abolitionists. He noticed Carrie in the third row paying attention to anything but him, and remembered he had intended to speak to her after class about her failing grade. He took the opportunity to take in her sexy form while she was looking elsewhere. Her cute face was framed by her short, bouncy brown hair.
She had big dark eyes. And her body was small and curvy with a little extra in all the right places. He loved short women, and Carrie was about 5’2. He knew it might be funny for him to seek them out, him being 6’4 tall, but he loved fucking a little woman.
“That’s it for today, I’ll see you all on Thursday.” Professor Armstrong paused and lowered his voice, turning to look at Carrie. “Miss Lane, would you please to the front to speak with me?” Armstrong smiled warmly and enjoyed the surprised, frightened look on her face. He stood at the desk in front of the class as a couple students asked him questions and the rest filed out of the classroom.
When only Carrie was left, Professor Armstrong motioned for her to sit down. He walked to the door, closed it, and turned around.
“Miss Lane, do you know why I’m asking to speak with you?” Carrie smiled nervously.
“Um, no, sir…?”
“Ah. I’ve been concerned about your performance in class.” He walked slowly closer to the girl.
“My grades, sir?” The professor did not respond until he had walked within a few feet of the girl, then stopped and sighed. “Yes, but more than that as well. I notice you don’t pay attention in class.” Carrie’s face registered embarrassment and fear. “Why is that?”
“Well, sir, I do pay attention–”
“Don’t lie to me.” he said quietly. Carrie stared up at him, frozen.
“You don’t care about the class. You are currently failing.” Carrie gasped. “No! I need to pass this class, I…”
“But will you start paying more attention?” Carrie looked guilty. Professor Armstrong sighed again, a big heaving breath, and walked two steps closer to the small, seated girl.
“What else would you do to pass the class, Carrie?” he asked, and congratulated himself on being such a gentleman. He always gave them the choice of making the offer.
“Uh– well…” she mumbled, unsure of herself. “Sir–” she stated, sitting up and looking him in the eye. “I would do– well, just about anything…”
Professor Armstrong smiled down at her. He would get what he wanted.
“Well, Carrie, I could use some help myself, you know…” the professor hinted as he placed one of his big hands over the crotch of his pants. He gently adjusted his manhood within its confines in a way that revealed what was already a massive erection.
Carrie blushed and leaned back in what she thought was a seductive pose. “Professor, could I please help?” she purred. He took the last two steps before he was positioned directly in front of her, the big bulge in his pants staring her in the face.
Carrie looked up at him and licked her lips. She placed both hands on his narrow hips, then moved one lightly over the tent in his crotch. He settled back, jutting his hips out for her. She began rubbing the length of him lightly, feeling his size.
“Mmm, Professor… you’ve got a big one,” she whispered. Armstrong chuckled and gave a nod. Carrie looked like she was getting into it; he was looking forward to this.
Her little fingers began to grip his girth more firmly, stroking from the base of his cock to the tip and back, over and over. Her other hand moved to the
button his pants and began to remove them. Professor Armstrong put his hands on his hips and groaned.
“Ohhhh… yeah. I think we’ve found your hidden talent,” he said. Carrie giggled, pleased, as she unzipped him. She then used both hands to pull them down enough to reveal his straining erection. Her eyes widened as she took in the outline of his schlong through his briefs. Carrie rubbed her hands more firmly through the thin fabric and her breathing deepened.