The first day of college started out like any other. Grace sat through class after class, receiving syllabis from her teachers as she introduced herself to her classmates. She was excited though. This was her chance to make a new start, throw aways the past and become someone she wanted to be. The only thing her new fellow classmates would know about her was that she was from Texas and her age was 19. In high school, Grace had been the wild child. In was a front that she had put on, and her fake reputation had made her life hell. She had made good grades, graduated the top of her class, but no one would ever see her as anything other than the class slut, the party girl. Truth was, that wasn’t her at all. She hated parties, had only slept with one person in her whole life, and no one in her small hometown had ever met him. A random, but handsome guy while on a random trip to Georgia. Her life back home was one made up of harsh rumors. Here, at college, she could finally become the person she had always been; the quiet, studious bookworm. Of course, other cards had been dealt to Grace. She just didn’t know it yet.

Grace was beautiful. Five feet, four inches with creamy skin with an equally creamy complexion and long, wavy brown hair. A pert nose, dark bedroom eyes, and full pink lips gave her a face that most people paid to have nowadays. Her body was like a valley, curves leading the eyes every which way. Her breasts were full, firm, and high; her waist small, but her hips wide. Her generous thighs would make a priest forget his vows. She had decided to buy a new wardrobe after moving out here to California, choosing to wear her yellow summer dress and sandals for the first day of school. She smiled as she walked across the campus to her last class of the week. She had been looking forward to Creative Writing all week. She loved to write, and hoped to do something with it one day. Her sandals clapped the stairs as she hurried up them to the front doors. Looking around, she tried to find her room number, finally getting help from an upperclassmen named Jake. He’d been able to do nothing but check her out, something she had failed to notice. According to Grace, she was here to learn, and learn only.

Finally finding her class, Grace opened the door and found a seat in the front row. No one else had shown up yet. The only sign that there was even a class in the lecture room that days was the fact that the teacher’s things were all over the desk. She noticed Shakespeare and Whitman lying on the desk, and seeing that there really was on one else in the room, she decided to take a peak. Leaning her hip against the desk, she cracked open a book called “Leaves of Grass.” She hoped it was something they’d read over in class. As she became lost in the words, she failed to hear someone coming in through the door, and the footsteps that came closer and closer to the desk.

Professor Benjamin Jackson opened the door, immediately noticing the girl standing by his desk. He couldn’t see her front, but the back sure was nice. She seemed to be reading one of his personal books, something that would have usually bothered him. Yet, it seemed that she wasn’t reading it out of nosiness, but out of fascinated interest. She didn’t even look up and he shut the door behind him. He was hoping that he finally had a student that was genuinely interesting in this course. “Hey there,” He said, seeing her body jump at the sound of his voice.

Grace jumped a mile high, slamming the book close as if she were a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. She turned her head, seeing a man just slightly older than she standing before her. He had to be the teacher. He looked too smart, too worldly to be another student. He commanded attention with his almost broody look. He had black, curly hair, honest eyes, a straight aristocratic nose, and lips made for sin. He was tall, built, and his very nature was the definition of assertion. She swallowed, knowing that he would be the only thing to ruin her plans here at college. If any one on this campus took her mind away from her studies, it would be this man. Oh, Lord was she in trouble. “H-hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy. I just saw the name Whitman. The name is familiar, but I’d never had the pleasure of reading his works. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

He smiled. She was a timid thing, but she was also honest. “No worries. I’m just glad you gave into your curiosity. A desire to learn in this classroom is rare and very…very appreciated.” He watch her lips form into a smile. Her teeth were straight, perfect, and white; her lips deserved a poem. She set the book down and turn to her desk. He was happy to see she would be in the front row.

Just then, students began to file in, all of them trying to claim a seat in the top row. At least he had the mysterious girl in the front. She’d be the only thing to keep him from losing his sanity in this class. Walking to the board he picked up the chalk and wrote his name on the board. The class became quiet as the clock ticked to five o’clock p.m. Four more hours to go, he thought, just four more hours. He turned from the chalk board and walked to his desk, facing the 28 students he had for this class.

“I’m Ben Jackson. I’ll ask you to call me Professor Jackson as I will not respond to anything else. If you don’t know, this is Creative Writing. I hope you did not take this class thinking it’d be easy because I assure you, I won’t be. This is college, and I expect you to read at a college level, speak at a college level, write at a college level, and act like it. There are no make-ups, and Midterms are in two months. A paper, evaluating three works from a list of writers and poets that I have prepared.” Ben walked to Mystery Girl and handed her the stack of the lists. “Pass the papers around, and good luck. Pick whoever, library is down the hall, and good luck.”

Grace passed the papers to a boy behind her, quickly putting her attention to the list. Most of the names were unfamiliar to her: Sir Thomas Wyatt, Sylvia Plath, Dorothy Parker. One stood out to her–Walt Whitman. She quickly grabbed her things and walked for the door. Ben studied her as she had read the list, seeing her smile as she settled on a name. He was curious as to who she chose. He was also pleased at her genuine eagerness to get started.

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The next week Grace was once again the first student to class. She looked at the clock seeing that she was fifteen minutes early. She took the same seat in the front, laying her books and backpack onto the desk. She took out her notebook that she had started for this class. Over the past week she had made meticulous notes on each of the four books of works of Whitman. She learned all she could about him, thinking it would make her have a better understanding for his poems, therefore letting her write a better evaluation of his poems. She was going over what she had written when she heard the door open. It was Ben. She got a fluttery feeling her a stomach, feeling her cheeks warm with pleasure. She quickly looked down to her notebook, pretending she hadn’t heard him come in. “Hello, Grace.”

She looked up at him, trying to seem unaffected. “Hey, Professor Jackson.”

“How was your week?”

“It was good, thank you. I trust yours was, too?”

“Very. Get any work done on your Midterm?”

“I did. I read three books and wrote notes on them.”

“I hope you got other homework done,” He said, smiling at her obvious enthusiasm for learning.

“Oh, I did. I did all of that on Saturday.” She returned to her reading as she plotted an outline for her paper. She may have two months on the assignment, but she’d be done long before. She was proud of herself.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Four weeks passed by as Grace flew through her studies. Her Dean had asked her to her office, commending her on her work and dedication. She asked if everything was fine, and if there was anything that Grace needed. She smiled, saying no and that she was perfectly fine. Before she left the Dean told her that if she kept up her work, she might be looking a teacher’s assistant job in a year. She was oblivious to the word outside her work and studies, not noticing her teachers growing interest in her, or any interest coming her way for that
matter.

Grace walking into Writing class with her Midterm in hand. It was done three weeks early. She had reread it a million times and had edited it so many times. She was proud of it and thought it was the absolute best it could be. As class started, she watched students come and leave from the library. She took the time to finish other homework, finishing it up, and thus freeing her weekend. After packing her things, she looked at the clock: 8:45. Class ended in fifteen minutes. She looked around, seeing that there were only a few other students in the room. Reaching for her paper she stood and walked for the step down to the floor. Ben looked up as she came closer, looking slightly annoyed at having been interrupted. She almost turned around, but he spoke.

“Yes, Grace?” He seemed out of sorts today.

“I-I just wanted to give your my term paper.”

“You mean to tell me that you’re done? All fifty pages?”

“Yes, I am.” She held out the paper, her nerves jumping as his fingers brushed against hers as he made a grab for the papers. He skimmed through every page. He read fast, she noted.

“Very good. Do you think you can meet me in my office? Main building, Room 856. I wanna discuss your paper, and your grade.”

“Yes, Professor Jackson. I’ll leave now if that’s fine.” He glanced at the clock.

“Fine. See you soon.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Grace was getting more and more nervous by the minute as she sat in the chair in front of his desk. She couldn’t stop fidgeting as she continuously looked around her. She decided to walk around while she waited. She had been in here for almost an hour waiting for him. The room looked like it was big, but the mass amount of books and trinkets made it look small. The room a soft, dark glow at night. The huge mahogany desk in the middle, piles of books all around. The desk itself was clean, organized. She put her attention to the books noting almost every subject imaginable. Just then she heard a soft click behind her. She turned to see Ben walking towards her and the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach grew worse. He stopped desk, pulling out his chair, and taking a seat. He smacked her paper down onto the desk and looked at her, nailing her in place.

“Did you copy any of this, because if you tell me now, I’ll let you redo it without penalty.”

“No. That’s my work. I would never do that.” He noticed that she almost seemed angry.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Professor Jackson.” He picked up her paper and began to read. He eyes rolled over the words noting how smoothly she wrote. It wasn’t choppy, or sloppy. It was a meticulously written paper, well organized, and well written. The girl had a talent. For the next twenty minutes he read what she had wrote, in awe of her evaluation of Walt Whitman. Grace watched him silently, inching closer to the desk with each passing minute. She was morbidly curious what he was thinking as she knelt at the side of his desk, resting her folded arms on the surface. As he finished, he put the papers down and looked at her.

“Amazing,” he said. “Absolutely amazing.” Grace smiled as he said this, happy that he thought highly of what she’d written. In her excitement she forgot herself, leaping up and hurling herself at him for a hug. Stunned, he sat motionless for several second before he returned the hug. This was going to be a mistake. His hands slowly slid up and down her back, the fabric of her red dress smooth against his palms. Her breasts were smashed against his throat, his face turned into her neck. She smelled sweet like flowers.

His right hand curved to the back of her neck, his fingers spreading through her silken hair, and he could almost see himself as he pressed a kiss to the tender spot under her ear. He heard her sharp intake of breath in his ear, felt her chest constrict against his neck. Moving his lips up, he caught her earlobe in his mouth, slowing sucking it in. Her grip became tighter on his back and her body tensed, but she didn’t move away. He trailed his kisses along her jaw, loving how she leaned her head back to allow him the access. As they came face to face he stopped and looked at her. Her eyes were half closed, filled with lust and passion. He dick grew hard, knowing that she wanted this; wanted him.

“Stand up, Grace.” She withdrew herself from him, standing straight, her breathing becoming heavier. He leaned forward to place a kiss against her stomach, his hands coming to the backs of her thighs, slowly traveling up and taking the hem of the dress with him. His hands cupped her ass, squeezing the flesh; pushing her into his mouth. Grace’s head fell backwards, her lips parted with a sigh as she buried her fingers in his hair. Ben’s hands started up again, coming to a stop at her waist, bringing himself back to look at her. Her stomach was smooth and white, the only thing marring her skin was her bellybutton. She wore a tiny red thong that barely covered her. He gave a sound of pleasure at the sight. “Pull your dress off and let me see the rest of you.”

She grabbed the fabric around her waist, watching his eyes move up her body as she bared it to him. As she pulled out the bodice and lifted, she felt her breasts fall from its support. She had decided to forgo a bra today. Lifting the dress up, she pulled it over her head and slowly tossed it to the floor next to the desk. She stepped back on her heels to lean on his desk allowing him a full view.

“Like what you see?” His eyes shot up to hers.

“I do.” His voice sounded thicker, deeper. His big hands reached out to grab her hips, his fingers digging into her skin.

“Do I get to see you?” He smiled, taking his hands away from her. He sat back as his hands went for the buttons on his shirt. She watched as he did so, bringing herself to her knees and scooting in between his. She pushed his hands away, finishing what he’d started. As she unbuttoned the last one, she pushed his shirt off and let it fall to the chair behind him. He had a wide thick chest. She liked her men like this; sturdy and strong. Leaning forward with her hands on his thighs, she kissed his chest, working herself up to his neck. Her tongue made a wet path to his ear, her mouth making a grab for the lobe and sucking it. A moan sounded in his throat.

Her breasts pressed against his chest, the light sprinkling of hair tickling her nipples. The feeling making her gasp as her mouth opened over his skin. Her lips trailed along his shoulder, stopping to lick and nip. His nipples became hard as she ran her tongue slowly over them. His hands found her hair as he rested his back against the chair, taking her with him. She could feel his hard dick pressing against her chest now as she focused her attention on the other nipples, her hands beginning to run up and down his thighs, her fingers massaging. ‘

Ben’s body tingled at her attentions, his dick getting harder with the feel of her hands on his thighs. He couldn’t remember a time when a woman had paid this much attention to him. Her wet open mouth kissed and licked down his stomach, her tongue licking along the creases that his abs made. She looked up at him as his muscles convulsed in pleasure. His hand was still at her neck, and he began to massage it as she continued to look up at him. She scooted herself back, her head coming to be over his crotch. She ran her tongue along the line of his pants. His eyes closed slowly, opening to look at her again. She had her face between his legs, and before he could even see it coming, she dips her head down, her tongue pressing into his pants along his balls. He moaned as his hands grabbed her hair, her tongue continuing to lick up his balls and over the line of his erection.

Grace loved his reactions, and she wondered if he knew how his every feeling and emotion showed on his face. She teased him through his pants, his grip on her hair getting tighter with every minute. Finally she lifted her head, her hands coming to the buckle of his pants. His dick was pushing against the fabric as she pulled the tongue out of the buckle, drawing it back to unhook it. Pulling it open, she moved her fingers to unbutton the button in one deft movement. The sound of the zipper seemed to ring through the room and she grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled, his hips raising off the chair. She reached down to take off his shoes, making a show of it as she looked into his eyes. Pushing them to the side she pulled the legs of the pants down his feet until they were off, along with his boxers. She hadn’t seen a lot of cocks in her day, but his was nice and thick and long. If she put it to a ruler, she would guess it was about seven to eight inches.

He watched her assess him with an innocence he didn’t expect. For the time, he wondered if she were a virgin. “Have you ever been with a man before?” She seemed to be pulled out of a trance and looked up at him.

“What?”

“I asked if you’d ever been with a man before.”

“Yes, one. It was random and quick. I never saw anything.” He stared at her in private wonder. If she were telling the truth, which he knew she was, then she was a born natural.

“Have you ever sucked a dick?”

“No.”

“What you did with the pants on was great. Try doing that now.” He watched her gaze dart to his dick as he waited for her to start. Her tongue came out to dart across her lips, making his dick jump with anticipation. His eyes traveled down to her breasts. Full and perky, her nipples were the perfect size, pink as a rose. He wondered if another part of her was just as pink.

Grace leaned forward, watching his face as she ran her tongue along the underside of his dick. His jaw clenched as she darted her tongue against the notch under the head. She worked her mouth over his dick, testing different things to gauge his reactions. Licking and sucking the sides, her mouth popping over his head. When she did this, the sound seemed to reverberate through the office, and he would press his dick up into her face. She moved her head down and ran her tongue against his balls, sucking each of them in turn into her mouth. She ran her tongue back up his dick, her mouth coming up to close over the head. She sucked and licked, slowing working her way down. Coming up, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and squeezed, rubbing up and down. She gave the head one last long suck before she leaned back onto her heels and stood.

She bent over, her face coming even with his, and kissed him. Long and deep, her lips sucking on his; her teeth light pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled against his lips before she leaned back and hopped up onto his desk. They watched each other for a minute before Ben stood up and stepped in between her legs, his hands grabbing her thighs and pulling her against him. She cried out as she fell back onto the table, her hips instinctively pushing up against his cock. The friction of his dick rubbing against her panty-covered pussy made her moan, her teeth grabbing at her bottom lip.

“Have you ever had your pussy licked?”

“N-no.” Her face grew flushed.

“Mmmm.” His eyes moved up and down her body as his hand ran, down, and around her thighs. His hands grabbed the flimsy string of her thong at the hips and slowly pulled them down. Her panties were soaked. Stepping back to pull them off, he let them drop before stepping back in place. He placed his hands on her inner thighs and pushed, spreading her legs wide. Her lips glistened with her juices. Her clit was excited and her perfect, pink little lips were swollen. He knelt then, wanting nothing more than to taste her. Pulling her closer, he brought the tip of his tongue to her clit. She jumped, trying to squeeze her thighs shut. When she relaxed he continued. His tongue circling her bud, flicking his slowly and then quickly. He teased her mercilessly, always changing his play. He kissed her lips, sucking them in. Her moans filled the room and she began pushing herself into his face. His tongue darted around her opening, licking. He could see her breasts rising and falling, her stomach shaking with the need to come. Pushing his tongue into her hole, he began to fuck her with it.

The quick, tiny sensations shot up her body. She could feel herself getting closer, her fingers pulling at his hair. She needed it bad, and she began humping his face, urging him on. She tried to sit up, only to fall back down, moaning loud, her hips gyrating.

“Ben..Ben, Ben. Please. Make me come. Plea…” Her voice lost in her breathing, catching on a moan as he returned his efforts to her clit. His tongue flicked her, and he sucked her quickly, but softly. Her moans were getting louder and quicker; her thighs and stomach quivering. Finally her thighs squeezed agaist his head, her back arching as she came. She yelled his name into the room, her body convulsing with every orgasmic wave that hit her body. Ben stood, running his hands up her stomach to grab her breasts. He kneaded them, his thumbs rubbing circles around her nipples. She gave a soft grunt and opened her eyes. Her lips were parted, her breathing starting to slow down.

“I want you to get off my desk and turn around.” She blinked a few times before moving to do his request. He back up as she placed a foot onto the floor and slid down. She moved towards him, pushing up onto her toes. Placing a kiss on his lips, she sucked his lips; licking.

“Mmmm…yummy,” she said quietly. “I wanted to know what I tasted like.” With that she turned around and bent over his desk and waited. His hands were the first to touch her, his fingers squeezing her cheeks, spreading them. He suddenly drew back on hand and gave her a quick smack.

“Aaah! What the-” He smacked her again. She turned her head around to look at him as he ground his dick against her ass, his hands squeezing and pushing her cheeks.

“Spread your legs. Now.” She did as he said and nearly came when she felt his dick slide in between her lips. He started thrusting slowly, rubbing along her slit. She pushed back against him and moaned. Pulling back, he positioned himself and moved forward. His head poked her, slowly pushing. Her pussy swallowed his head, and she squeezed herself around him, greedy for more. “Aren’t we a horny little cunt.”

Her head fell as she pushed her ass hard against him. His words excited her.

“Fuck me. Please.” His sudden hard thrust into her pussy made her scream.

“What? You wanted to be fucked.” He slowly began to thrust into her, making her moan. “I was going to go slow, let you get use to this…” He thrust hard again. “..but if you wanna be fucked, I’ll gladly do it.” He leaned forward, his mouth next to her lips. “Do you wanna be fucked, Grace?” He felt her shiver.

“Yes, Ben. Fuck me.” His hands grabbed her hair and pulled hard, his mouth sucking her neck hard. She screamed, her body completely arched against his. He continued to fuck her, his dick thrusting hard into her, throwing her body into his desk over and over. The lamp on his desk shook, the light giving a shaking glow across the room. He watched her ass jiggle with each thrust, his skin smacking against hers. He closed his eyes, his teeth gnashing, the feeling of her tight, almost virginal pussy squeezed around him.

Letting go of her hair, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against him. Standing, he thrust up into her as his hands cupped her breast, lifting and squeezing. His right hand left her left breast, sliding up to cup her neck, pushing her head back against him. Her breath was coming fast, her moans coming with each thrust.

Grace pushed back against him, loving how he was handling her. She loved the way he fucked her. “Harder, Ben. Fuck me harder.”

“Beg.”

“Please, Ben. I want you to fuck me harder…please, please, please.”

“More.”

“Oh, God, please! Please Professor Jackson. Harder. I need–” He cut her off as he slammed into her. He gave her what she wanted, fucking her harder, being about as gentle as a jackhammer. Her cries filled the room and wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

“I want you to come for me, Gracey. Come for me.” The last part was whispered into her ear as he thrust, her breasts bouncing.

“Y-yes, Ben. So close. Harder, baby. Make me come for teacher.” Her last request almost sent him over the edge. That had to be the hottest thing he’d ever heard her say. Pushing her back down to the desk, he grabbed her ass and fucked even harder, smacking her ass. Her pussy clenched around him and held, and her legs lifted, squeezing around his waist. He grabbed her thighs and pulled, and pushed, and pulled, and pushed. Her cries came faster and her pussy squeezed him tighter.

“Oh, fuck! I’m gonna come..coming…….*moan*…coming.” He felt her come. Her scream filled his head, as he gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed her on, waiting as long as he could. “Come for me, Ben. Come..”

Ben groaned as he thrust one, twice, three times and came. He came harder than he could remember. He pulled away from her and stumbled to his chair, pulling her with him. She leaned back against him as they tried to catch their breath. He kissed her neck and whispered a thank you into her ear. She smiled as she said ‘you’re welcome.’ They sat there for what seemed like hours before Grace began to stir.

“I hate to cut this short, Professor Jackson, but I need to get back to my room. Curfew.” He let her go and watched her beautiful, naked body walk around trying to find her dress. Finding it, he watched her put it on. He was sad to see it back on. Stepping in her shoes, she came to him and gave him a lingering kiss. He felt her put something into his hands, and when she broke away from him, he looked in his hand. Her panties sat there in his hand and he closed his hand in a tight grip.

“Something to remember you by?”

“Ha ha…something like that. I’ll see you in class next week?”

“Would it bother you if I asked you to come back here to my office on Monday. Same time. I need you again.” She smiled and kissed his lips one more time.

“Yes, Professor. I’ll be here.”

With that she turned and left, leaving him there naked and spent. He hadn’t had sex like that in a long time, and if this night was any sign, it was only going to get better from here. He closed his eyes, and prayed for the weekend to fly.

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