The last days of spring semester were impossible to manage. Between grading final essays and exams, delivering lectures and setting up a curriculum for the summer students, the able-bodied members of the faculty were tortured by a constant parade of freshly tanned skin, ripened breasts and an intoxicating spirit of freedom that seeped through every fold of the campus fabric.

Hopelessly distracted by the sexual shopping mall the campus became, I was forced to employ a monklike focus to these days. From my car to the office, I would drop my eyes to the sidewalk, looking up only long enough to avoid collisions with students and the occasional colleague. Through the halls, my downward stare would continue until I was safely deposited behind my floor to ceiling metal door. Once there, I could, for the most part, think about poorly structured paragraphs, unsupported arguments and the pros and cons of giving Student X a B+ or an A-.

In my fifth year as a professor, I had reached the final day of this annual hell when there was a light rap on my door. My thoughts had just turned to beating the rush hour traffic home for a sunset run and I was pissed to be delayed. Getting up from my desk, I remembered that officially, these were my office hours. That time professors set aside each week for “one on ones” with their students. Like most of my colleagues, my office hours were dominated by butt kissers and grade whiners. It was a professional obligation I despised.

Opening the door, I braced myself for an onslaught of complaint: “I was sick when I took it” “The question wasn’t clear” “If I don’t get a C in your course, I’m going to lose my financial aid.” Shameless in pursuit of a desired result without the required effort to produce it, I was always dismissive of these last-minute pleaders seeking an alternative reality to the coursework they didn’t do.

“Yes?” I asked in my best “What the fuck?” tone. My eyes trained downward, I wasn’t interested in even looking at who had found their way to my office.

“Hello, Professor, we came to keep you company.”

Before me stood two of my coed students. Their faces were familiar but the smiles they offered and the outfits they wore made them contextually hard to place. After months of seeing them bundled up to fight the New England chill, these little, asexual, sweatpants wearing things had blossomed into sex flowers.

Roberta had been to see me once before. Dark skinned with eyes to match, she’d puckered her thick, heartshaped lips in a very sweet way when I’d denied her request to make a late change to her paper topic. That day, a down coat had covered her all the way to the instep of her snowboots. Now, on the cusp of my summer vacation, she stood in the doorway wearing a thin white button-down over a blue and white polka dot bikini; a khaki miniskirt cut off the very tops of her hairless brown legs.

By her side, sporting a straw-blonde pony and dancing green eyes was Jessica. In class, Jessica would always start scribbling furiously in her notebook whenever I looked up at her from the lectern. For one whole session I’d made a game of it, punctuating my thoughts with a glance her way and chuckling as her head bent down in response. It had given me an immature thrill to dictate her actions, hardly professorial but thrilling just the same.

Standing close to her tanner, taller friend, she still had trouble looking at me but her shyness offered me an irresistible opportunity to let my eyes wander over the full wide mounds straining against her dress.

As one of the younger faculty members, I worked hard every semester to create a shell of authority around myself to dissuade students from becoming too familiar with me. I was a serious academic with several papers published and a book in the works. It was my firm belief that to live on too friendly of terms with students invited ruin of one kind or another. Having said this, I am human and though I maintained my distance, a large part of me longed to connect with the young men and women in my class on a more intimate level. If nothing else, I wanted to know that I was at least admired.

“Well, that’s very nice of you,” I said, “come on in.” I stood aside from the door and breathed in the deliciousness of their youth. A gentle zephyr tinged with shampoo, soft perfume and a little weed (I thought) followed them into my office. As they sat in the two chairs in front of my desk, I noted a silent giggle between the two of them. Jessica had a couple of hives on her neck and a pinkish burn to her ears. She was no more comfortable in my office than she’d been in my class.

Roberta, on the other hand, was at complete ease. Just a sophomore, it was a cinch to imagine her a decade removed from this scene, working in the entertainment industry as an up and coming agent, which she’d told me was her desire. She was a prepossessed young woman, decided in what she wanted and unabashed in asking for it.

Sitting on the other side of my desk, I closed the exam booklet I’d been grading and looked across at them. Jessica quickly turned to study the calendar on the wall while her friend met my gaze with calculating ebony eyes. A streak of golden hair framed the right side of her face in a most becoming way. My eyes must have lingered too long because she noticed, smiled at my appreciation and tucked the bottle blonde strand behind her heavily jeweled ear.

“Certainly, you’ve got better things to do than keep me company,” I said, “What can I do for you?” My manner was studiously septic.

“Seriously, we just wanted to say ‘Hi’”

“Really? There’s not a grade change we’re looking for? A recommendation, maybe? A few of my final thoughts on Fitzgerald’s contribution to the American cultural forum?”

At this, they both indulged me with a chuckle. Jessica almost lifted her eyes to mine but couldn’t quite get there. She diverted back to Roberta.

This was an unusual encounter, like nothing I’d experienced in my past. I could not read their intention and their attractiveness was dangerous. I longed to be on my way; physically and mentally, the semester had been draining.

They said nothing and neither did I. I didn’t have the patience for small talk and I really didn’t like where my mind was heading as they sat before me. Roberta’s skin was almost pornographic in its volume and tone; it rippled with her movement and came to rest like a sheet of silk. Beside her, Jessica was the virginal archetype of Victorian literature, pale and soft in the most inviting ways. She had a crush on me, I was sure, and while in most instances, I would have appreciated this and given gentle but unreciprocated care to her feelings, now it only made me mad. Mad at myself more than anything, here I was on the cusp of three months of freedom and these two were pinning me down, raking their claws over my desire.

“What of it, Jessica? You’ve come to keep me company? You haven’t looked me in the eye all semester.” My question had no humor in it but Jessica laughed nonetheless. The tender freckles across her nose and cheekbones were all that saved her face from going completely panic-button red. Her face dropped downward and her embarrassment poured over her neck and shoulders, a stark contrast to the sparkling white of her dress. She giggled breathlessly and I concluded that indeed, that was marijuana I had detected upon their arrival.

I looked over at Roberta. Her mocha-colored lips were stretched across the brilliance of her teeth; she licked them both and raised her eyebrows, at a loss herself to respond to her friend’s behavior. Then, without warning, she too slouched in her chair and burst into a fit of laughter. As she did, her skirt began to ride up her muscular thighs. To my disbelief, joy and panic, the khaki material didn’t stop its bunching movement until it had slid all the way over her hips. There, to my long, chaste eyes was her smooth, naked pussy. For several deep laughs, she was totally exposed, her knees opening and closing with her amusement. I looked away, trying to do the right thing but had to look back.

“Oopsie.” Roberta regained her composure long enough to pull her skirt down and look across the desk at me with daring eyes. There was no shame in them. It was clear; she knew the power that she held between those thighs and I could feel the rush it gave her to lord it over me. My cock pressed hard and hot along my thigh.

“Look, girls,” I was scrambling here; the image of that little snatch was enough to send me to some very dark places that, outside of that particular moment, I had no desire to go. My career was on the line. “It’s very nice of you to drop in but I really have to be getting home.”

Jessica’s head shot up in alarm. For the first time in four months, those delightful emerald eyes locked on to mine. “Are you serious?” There was something so sincere in her tone, it almost felt like heartache.

“Yes, ‘home.’ You know, I’ve got to run, make dinner…” For emphasis, I held up the blue book I had been correcting, “grade exams.”

As enticing as the two of them were, I was convinced this little visit was some stoner dare they had forced each other into. Perhaps there was a whole group of similarly dressed undergrads waiting back in the dorm room, laughing at the future stories their friends would bring back from Professor Blackburn’s office. A striving intellectual, I believed I was getting punk’d.

For a breathless few moments, the late spring air hung between us undisturbed. Roberta looked at me as though she were sizing up a slave at auction. She knew what was racing through my mind and I was certain she was scheming how best to use it for advantage, but for what, I did not know.  It was unnerving to see the machinations of her mind work so hard while I could not help but fixate on the image her parted thighs had granted me. Though I worshipped the power of the mind, I could barely control the physical longing that image had stirred. Roberta’s gaze was too much for me and so I turned to Jessica, hoping that, from her, I could expect a full and hasty retreat. But I was mistaken.

Her soft pink mouth was half open, her green eyes pooling with emotion. She rubbed one of them fiercely as if to make some unnamed pain go away, then turned to Roberta as though to say something but no words came. She just stared, her mouth still open. I was at a loss as to what these two girls expected of me. I was desperate to be free of them.

“What if we did want to get our grades changed? What could we do?” Roberta’s silliness was far gone; I was dealing with the future agent. It pissed me off that my time had been wasted, my fragilities toyed with. This wasn’t about me, of course; it was about their greedy, little needs.

“There’s nothing to do. I’ve handed them in.” I spit the words out.

“You could still change them. They haven’t gone out”

Exasperated: “Look, Roberta, you got a B- and Miss Jessica here is bringing home a B+. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Relieved to be off the professionally lethal E-ride of an imagined/wanted sexual encounter, I couldn’t help but feel foolish. My mind and discipline had been shattered by two twenty-year olds. The pulsing menace of my sex part eased, I sat back, knowing this familiar territory of grade negotiation; this visit would soon be over.

“What if Jessica sucked you off, would that make a difference?”

Had she kicked me in the solar plexus, I would have been less incapacitated. I knew I should respond negatively, immediately and with all the authority I could command but for once in my life, I could not speak. I could not move. I could not fathom the boldness of this kid; she seemed so comfortable with the offer, I wondered for a moment if she’d made it before.

Jessica’s head was bowed, her eyes on her hands, folded in her lap. She looked so demure, surely, she wanted no part of her friend’s suggestion.

One of my colleagues walked down the hall outside. If they only knew what was going on behind my door.

“C’mon, Jess. Why don’t you get going? This is a really bad scene. You and Roberta should go.” My voice was low, sincere.

“I don’t want to go.”

I could barely hear her. There was a tremor in her voice, her fingers played with her thumbs, her nipples jutted out like deadly thimbles.

“It was her idea,” Roberta said flatly.

“For a grade?” I was dumbfounded.

Jessica shook her head but said nothing. Roberta smiled. I looked between the two of them. And as I did, my walnut skinned tormentor slowly started to ease herself down in her chair. Again, the skirt slid almost menacingly up her thighs. I tried to look away from what would be revealed but I wound up locking eyes with Roberta. When I did, she looked down at her cunt, inviting me to do the same.

It was perfection: tenderly swollen, her dark lips subtly flared. Behind them I caught a hint of the pink inner sanctum they protected. At the top of her masterpiece stood the erect nub of her clitoris, a keystone to the forbidden entryway.

My cock strained against my jeans. The head on fire, my shaft throbbing, I felt a sticky bit of cum smear my stomach. Deliberate and cruel as a spoiled child, Roberta slid two fingers over the length of her pussy, top to bottom and back again. Over her clit, she massaged it with languorous circles, the movement pulling her lips apart and revealing the increasing wetness within.

Like a surgical patient fighting the inevitable effect of anesthetic, I tried to keep my wits. Fixing my eyes on the indifferent gray paint of my door, I weakly said they should go. The vulnerability in my voice mocked the authority I pretended. A respected professor I was not. Instead, I’d been unmasked as just another overcharged dick, impotent to change the professionally fatal course plotted by this somebody’s daughter.

Letting out a luxurious sigh, Roberta settled even further into her chair. “We’re not going anywhere, Professor Blackburn. This feels way too good.” Her right shoulder flipped forward and two fingers dove inside her. A sharp exhale hissed through her immaculate teeth and brought me out of my chair. No longer hidden by the desk, my arousal was painful and obvious.

“Jessica really wants to suck that.”

The gravity of her friend’s show had completely erased the presence of Jessica from my mind. I turned to her now. She had untied the straps of her dress from behind her neck. With both hands, she cupped the fullness of her freckle-dusted breasts, lifting them up, a tantalizing landmine of an offering. Our eyes met again, for just the second time in a semester. As lurid as the scene was in the chair next to her, Jessica’s gaze promised something more than lust. She smiled, a quiet dreamy smile and then half-closed her eyes as she gave her plump nipples a deliberate squeeze.

Thick legged, I walked next to Jessica’s chair, undid my jeans, pushing the metal buttons through their holes and freed myself. Stiff in the late afternoon sun, my erection pumped up and down, untouched but fueled by the images before it.

Working steadily, Roberta’s hand was slick with the response to her touch. Two fingers no longer satisfied her; she threw her leg over the back of the chair and pushed all but her thumb inside.

“Come on, Professor. Let her suck it.”

Well aware that the power in the room was held by a girl fifteen years my junior, I had no answer but to obey.  Turning to my student with the straw-colored hair, my hardness danced before her, a thread of cum dangling from the head. Jessica let a deep breath fill her lungs, sumptuously lifting her wide breasts. She looked into my eyes as soft, shaking hands traveled across my ass cheeks. Coming to a stop as they met at the divide, her nails pricked my skin and she pulled me towards her face.

“I’ve really wanted to do this.”

My heart was flopping in my throat, like a fish on a line, fighting desperately for release. Jessica took a long look at the physical commotion she and her friend had caused in me, and then like a kitten, she flicked out a pale, pink tongue and snared the dribble of semen that hung from me.

Rolling her eyes and smiling broadly, she looked back up. “Mmm.” The throbbing distension was buckling my knees; I had to be satisfied.

Her ponytail offered a too convenient handle. I grabbed it and firmly tugged her head back, to the point of discomfort. Through with being possessed by these two and having gone this far, I was desperate for the game to be on my terms. My free hand wrapped around the base of my erection and I squeezed it hard in an effort to stave off the threat of losing control too soon. Looking into those green eyes, the temperature in them changed from medium cool to burning. I saw some fear, which is what I wanted, a measure of respect back, the understanding that I was the teacher here, she was the student.

I pulled the back of her head roughly towards me and obediently she opened her lips, sucking in my entire length. Her throat closed around my head; a touch of saliva pushed at the corner of her mouth. Those green eyes did not leave mine. With practiced fluidity, she moved back and forth on me, teeth grazing the rim of my head as I threatened to escape the hot confines of her mouth.

“Fuck her pretty face, Professor.”

A jetstream of gasoline on a raging fire, Roberta was pumping her four fingers in and out of her pussy as fast as she could. Long legs obscenely spread, one over the chair back, one on my desk. She seemed even more inflamed by the scene than I was.

“Touch yourself, Jess,” she huffed, “I want to see you cum too.”

As told, Jessica stood up without losing her rhythm and yanked her dress up and around her waist. Lightly framed with a tiny brush of cornsilk, her privates were fat and rosy with pleasure. The tip of a middle finger quickly found her button and she pressed it without release.

“Oh my, God, yeah. That’s so fucking hot. Suck it, Jess. Suck it, Jessica!”

The last command all but shouted, Roberta convulsed with frightening power. Heart-shaped lips opened towards me, gorgeous brown, glistening in the dusky light. At last, her hand stopped its urgent movement, her knees slammed together and her head collapsed into the back of the chair. No longer a fiery temptress, I could, once again, see youth as the dominant feature of her pretty face.

A whimper brought me back to the girl devouring my blood-red dick. Her face flushed, tiny beads of sweat rimmed the crown of her head. She bounced on her chair, closing in on her own solution to this three-part equation. High on her ribcage, her tits swung, together and apart, robust with newness, fascinating to a man used to partners a dozen years her senior. I pressed my hands to them, stretching my fingers along their wide curve and compulsively pumped my hips faster and faster.

Her whimpering increased and her suction on my cock became almost too much to bear. Lifted onto my toes, I struggled to remain upright. The pleasure burned through me, every inch of my body aflame. Like a dragster, I’d been revved to the point of essential release; all I needed was the signal to “Go.”

If her mouth had not been full of me, Jessica’s climactic scream would have brought the campus police through my door. For several seconds, I watched in lurid amazement as her freckled shoulders shuddered again and again; her skin burned hot pink but her lips and tongue never lost control of their assignment.

Able to open her eyes once again, her look willed me to finish. Still clutching her tits, I threw my head back, her nails dug hard into my ass and with a final thrust I let loose with all my might. As she drank me in, her moan spurred me to another salvo, this one so complete it drove me to my knees, my head falling in her lap.

For a long moment, the three of us were motionless but for my ragged breathing. My jeans at my ankles, I knew my career could well be in ruins. That was an apocalyptic orgasm, I thought, welcome to the end.

Jessica’s fingers ran along the pulsing vein on the side of my forehead. I lifted my face up to meet her gaze; she smiled and said, “Thank you.” A professor’s fantasy come true, she was as sweet as she’d appeared.

“Was it worth an ‘A’?” Roberta had pulled her skirt down. And found something else to do with her hand. Something that scorched the tenderness I’d just felt for and from her friend.

With her arm outstretched, Roberta held in her hand a phone. She turned the display screen toward me and there I saw myself at the very moment of my satisfaction. Jessica’s face was in plain view, as was mine.

“Give us both As and this stays between us.” Roberta gave me that same smile I’d seen when I turned down her proposed change to her term paper. “Got it?”

Never having felt quite so owned, I pushed myself to my feet and pulled up my jeans.

“What do you have to say about this, Jessica?”

Returning her appearance to acceptability, she stopped tying her dress for a moment and without looking at me, said, “I definitely want an A.”

With that, Roberta crossed to the door and without looking back, walked out. Jessica, however, stopped before closing me in with myself and a future tortured by this blackmail.

“You know, professor, I really did want to do that all semester.” Was this to be my consolation for having fucked up my career? She dropped her eyes to the floor and laughed a little, “I never paid such close attention in a class.”

The door closed and through its gray indifference, I could hear her laughing down the hall.