“Gaaawwwd I’m so full!” the 40 year-old Layla Pope groaned. “Stretch me baby. Mmmmnnnnhhh...”

Jayden Fuller obliged with aplomb, but it was bittersweet. Ms. Pope as his untouchable MILF professor. She challenged him; opened his mind to a new world. She was his better in every way. But now she was huffing and puffing with his cock buried in her, turned over and spread on her desk like a common slut. “'O brave new world,' Ms. Pope,” Jayden chuckled, pushing another inch inside her to mews of approval.

___________

6 weeks earlier.

“'Ask no questions, and you’ll be told no lies' Mr. Fuller.” Layla Pope eyed her worst student as she pushed a copy of ‘Great Expectations’ across her desk.

Her pupil picked the paperback up with his massive hands and grimaced. His hands, she thought, were the only reason he was here. Mr. Fuller, she was told by Coach Chrispin, was enrolled in community college for the sole purpose of playing football. If he played well enough, he’d go play for a bigger program at a university. His education it seemed was just a hurdle to bigger and brighter things.

“You’re failing Jayden, badly” she whispered. She didn’t want to embarrass him. She also suspected he was trying harder than results suggested.

The broad-bodied 19 year-old stared at the book, then at Ms. Pope.

“I want to help you Mr. Fuller,” she offered. “I’m willing to put in extra work if you are. Are you?”

“Yes M’am. Yes, Ms. Pope,” his deep, quiet voice rumbled in response.

“I want 1,000 words on Dickens’ use of an outcast protagonist to comment on wealth and class in society. Next Friday. Understand?”

“Yes M’am.”

“Good. And Jayden, ask for help if you need it.”

The young man forced a smile before lumbering out of the classroom. “Tight End is right…” Ms. Pope caught herself muttering as his immense, muscular frame barely passed through the door. “Geez, Layla, it’s bad enough you’re keeping the kid after class."

Nonetheless, she was happy with herself. She’d probably spent more time thinking about what she could assign Jayden for extra work than she had grading the entire class’s last essay. As far as she could tell he hadn’t read much more than comic books. And getting that much out of him had been a major coup.

Dickens was the perfect choice. A great work of literature that read like a comic book.  Intrigue, tortured romance, and incredible plot twists, the total package. She was loathe to stereotype a student, but as a football stud, covered in tattoos, who had already transferred in from another community college, she thought he might relate to some other themes in the story too.

______________

Jayden Fuller’s bed shook and creaked as he pumped his thick cock in and out of the co-ed beneath him. An onlooker would barely be able to see the girl squealing beneath him, cumming repeatedly as the athlete worked her over again and again.

He hit the weight room hard, plracticed his ass off on the field, but he felt tightly wound. Fucking one of the many girls that orbited around the team usually did the trick.

“Fuuuuucccckkk!!!” the girl cried into her lover’s chest, her legs shaking around his thick trunk.  Jayden pulled out and shot several steaming bursts of cum all over the skinny blonde cheerleader. She was a “top of the pyramid” girl; a regular with a predictable desire to get pounded by a stud.

Still, he didn’t feel all that relaxed as she wobbled to the bathroom to clean up. Laying naked on his bed he glanced sideways at the paperback copy of Great Expectations.

______________

“Jayden, this is real improvement,” Layla Pope assured holding his essay with a big red "C" on it.

Her pupil stared at her with inscrutable intensity.  She uncrossed her legs instinctively.

“It’s a 'C' Ms. Pope,” Jayden responded cooly. 

“Yes,” Layla agreed, leaning towards him. “But it IS progress. And there were some thoughtful points – like how being an athlete on campus confers both status and stereotype, not unlike the newly moneyed of Pip’s world.”

The corner of Jayden’s mouth pulled up a little. She made it sound better than he did, but that was what he meant. And he was proud; way prouder than making a big catch or block. He looked back into her bright eyes.

She squirmed in her seat responsively, and moved even closer; her cleavage heaving as she did.

“I’m not going to patronize you by lowering my standards,” she began. “But I will give you as many chances as I can.

I want you to try this one – ‘Rabbit Run’ by John Updike. It’s much shorter, and you might relate a little more directly. I’ll need 1,000 words again Mister."

“1,000?” Jayden pleaded.

“That’s short Jayden. I have great expectations, not great demands.” Layla Pope was pleased as punch with that line.

Pleased indeed. Something about the way he stared at her had made her wet. And he’d really read the book! Maybe not the most groundbreaking stuff, but still. And she was surprised to read that he was from middle class background. But his size and his natural athleticism and power had ironically boxed him in.

That night she read over an old favorite of hers, “Couples,” by Updike, enjoying a glass or wine (or two). Soon and unsurprisingly she found herself thinking of her pupil, and she rubbed herself until her sex became swollen.  She worked a finger inside herself, then two; then rubbed and stretched until she came. She drifted off to sleep with the most pleasant and sordid of dreams that night – that she and Jayden were a couple.

______________

“Thanks Ms. P!” Jayden beamed as he poured over her comments and corrections on his “B.” He’d really devoted himself to it.

Layla Pope beamed too. She’d been borderline neglectful of the rest of the class, but she’d read and re-read Jayden’s essay, bringing herself to orgasm each time. His style left something to be desired, but there was some real commentary on the male psyche and sexuality even if she thought he was missing some of the author’s commentary on marriage and sex.

Jayden’s essay mused,“… for Rabbit, scoring pussy is like getting buckets, his way of asserting himself now that his life in the game is done. If he makes a girl cum, he’s proud. But it’s also his downfall. He’s not honest with himself or the women. You can’t be ashamed on the field. You score and then you get more. More is good. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Geez, he was cocky. And young, and a fucking hot,” Layla thought to herself. She chewed on her pen before catching herself starting to wrap her tongue around it.

Layla Pope, blinked back into focus. “Jayden, I have another assignment I think you’ll like.  1,000 words.  Here, take this."

Jayden smiled, “'Lady Chatterly’s Lover?' Yeah, I think I could get into that.”

The way he said “get into that”  made her nipples harden so much they could be seen through her blouse.

That night Layla Pope worked a new dildo slowly into her needful pussy. It was wrong, which only made it feel better. The dildo wasn’t very small and it had a bit of drag to it, which felt appropriate. It stretched and pulled her like she was a virgin again.

______________

“Thanks for meeting me so late Ms. P,” Jayden began. He was covered in sweat and the scent of practice. 

"It’s ‘Ms. Pope,” she laughed. “Thank you for hustling over here. You haven't even showered!"  Indeed, her student’s bulging muscles were lathered in sweat, barely contained in a compression athletic tank top.   “Please, close the door behind you Jayden."

Refocusing herself, she managed to query, “So Jayden, how is D.H. Lawrence suiting you?”

“I mean, it’s good.,” he began. “It’s a little crazy to be honest Ms. Pope.”

Mr. Fuller, Jayden… it’s perfectly healthy and normal to find this novel arousing,” she assured as she reached out to touch his hand. “I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable…”

The big hand enveloped hers with thrilling firmness. “Nah, Ms. Pope. It’s not that. I’ve read plenty more hardcore than this online.”

“Oh, I see,” she stammered in response.

“Yeah, you know. You read a lot, so I’m sure you’ve seen that stuff. Some of it’s pretty crazy, like, more explicit than this,” the student offered. “But this is getting to a whole other part of my mind, you know? So it gets a rise out of me like nothing else.”

As the football player said “rise,” he adjusted himself in his shorts.

Jayden Fuller had followed her eyes. She’d bit her lip when she looked at him. His livelihood, his future depended on this ability to read a person, a situation in the blink of an eye.  To read a defense and find the right openings.  

"You know Ms. P, I think my favorite line is like, 'A woman has to live her life, or live to repent not having lived it.'  I love that one.  I think I''m gonna work off that."

Layla Pope audibly swallowed.  Both teacher and student seemed aware at the unmistakable scent of arousal filling the cramped office.

"Yes Jayden, that's a really important theme" she offered.

"Ok, so I'm good! I'll catch you later teach," the cocky son of a bitch replied as he stood up and winked on his way out the door abruptly.  

As soon as the door shut, Layla Pope was reclined in her office chair stuffing herself with her own fingers and daydreaminig about Jayden tearing off her blouse and fucking her then and there, yielding to uncontrolled forbidden lust.

______________

"Jayden, honey, I'm sorry.  I have to call it like I see it,"  Layla Pope frowned, staring down at the 'B+' essay.

Her student wanted to say 'fuck it' and take her right in the classroom.  He read Lady Chatterly's Lover inside and out; drafted and re-drafted his essay, which was more like 5,000 words, and she was gonna do him like this?  Still, he'd never been this hard for a woman in his life.

"You sure Ms. P?" he began.  "It's like with Lady Chatterly: ' She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.'"

"What exacty was he getting at?" the teacher thought. Iwas a good essay, and his growth in the class full of disinterested and entitled kids (had she seen them that way before?) was incredible.  But she knew he'd could do better, and she was loathe to lose her excuse for their special meetings..

"I'm quite certain, now, I want a fresh essay on..."

"I already got this." Jayden interrupted.  "I've been reading on the side and I've got a good one primed."

Prof. Pope was delighted.  "Of course Jayden!  I'm so happy you've been reading for pleasure, but I presume you have a real work of literature in mind..."

"'Atlas Shrugged," he responded with pride.

"Oh.  Well, that's certainly a serious literary work."  She tried not to convey her shock and mild disappointment.  Especially with everything that's been going on in the country, Ayn Rand?  Personally, Layla found her pompous and unmoving.  The kind of thing smart, but bratty highschool kids read before they reckon with the heartbreaks of living.

"It just speaks to me and what you've done for me, you know?" Jayden continued.

Oh goodness.  How on Earth did getting him to read and expand his horizons lead him to some kind of 'Randian' revelations?  Her eyebrows must've been up in her hairline with shock, as he felt compelled to explain.

"Have you read it?  I think you'll like what I learned from it.  It's like the line 'If you don't know, the thing to do is not to get scared, but to learn.'"

"Uh huh...  I look forward to your essay - 1,000 words - on Friday."  Layla chastised her self for letting her politics blind herself to the obvious.  For a student who came into her class reading the funny pages, digesting 'Atlas Shrugged' was an amazing achievement.   And she often found herself reluctantly agreeing with him in his pror essays, so who knows?  Maybe she'd learn a thing or two herself.

"Oh, Ms. Pope?  Ths is kind of a big tackle for me.  Can I have your cell number if I need to check in?.  Just in case."

"Of course Jayden, anything you need."

______________

It was the longest work week of Layla Pope's life.  Every little thing her students needed touched a nerve.  Amy O'Dowd's final paper on Joyce normally would've been the highlight of her academic year, but right now it seemed boring and annoying.  As Friday dawned, she started getting antsy.  She'd barely spoken with Jayden, and her initial excitement that she'd found an excuse to give him her number yielded to disappotnment when he didn't call or text.  She masturbated furiously as soon as she got home every night, but she only felt more agitated the next day.

Her anxiousness spiked even further when Jayden didn't show for class, which was ulike him entirely.  Leading the class through a discussion was excruciating.  And then Amy O'Dowd handed her an envelope on her way out.

"This is from Jayden, Ms. Pope," Amy cheerily pronounced.

"Oh, I see," Layla replied, trying to supress her body's natural reaction.

"Ms. Pope, I just want to say that this has been my favorite class this semester.  And if you'd be willing to consider..."

"How did you get this?" Layla interrupted, barely listening to Amy's brown-nosing.

"Jayden gave it to me.  We're friends and he couldnt make it today, but he knew you were expecting it," the bright, but bubbly girl answered.

"Ok, thanks Ms. O'Dowd, I'm afraid I've got to an appointment," Ms. Pope ushered the co-ed out the door while gritting her teeth.  She'd better not be fucking him, she thought as she greedily opened the envelop.

 And... it was a single page.  A single page with a quote in the center?  What is this?

'A man's sexual choice is the result and the sum of his fundamental convictions.... He will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permits him to experience a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value, will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strongest, the hardest to conquer--because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement.'

Check your phone Teach'.

-J. Fuller

*Ding!  A message came over her phone.  Still confused, Layla Pope picked up her phone and gasped.

There was a picture of the biggest, hardest dick she'd ever seen, with pre-cum leaking out the bulbous, beautiful head.  It was captioned, "A picture is worth 1,000 words.  In your office.  Give me what's mine."

Layla's knees nearly buckled.  Without another word or any acknowledgment of the half-dozen students and colleagues who tried to get her attention, she rushed to her office.  The door was shut.  She was too far gone to consider how odd it was for her on knock on ther own office door, but she did.

"Come," the now familiar, powerful voice answered.  The voice of her fantasies.

She was dizzy as she closed the door behind her.  The door to what used to be her office, but was now his.  There were plenty of signs the teacher was losing herself in her student, her stud, her buck.  But none of that mattered looking at his naked, sculpted body stroking his massive dick in her chair.  His chair.  

It was the most natural feeling in the world as she sauntered over to him, raised her skirt, and labored to lower her gushing sex down on his shaft.

"Uhhhhhh, so thick Jayden..." Layla Pope murmured. This is why she hadn't bothered with undewear this morning.

His giant, tattooed arms enveloped her body as his great hands, his champion hands, easily palmed her ass.  Jayden pistoned into her like a greek god mating with a mortal woman.  Her ex-husband, her boyfriends, they all paled in comparison to the heat, the strength, the masculinity that surged wihin her with every push and pull.

"Oh Jayden," she breathed as one of his thick fingers circled her anus.  She had indeed read about things like this before, but never done them. Her love of literature didn't stop at the classics.  All the erotica she consumed over the years had primed her for this.  For the kind of primal sex she yearned for, deserved.  And Jayden Fuller, 20 years her junior, knew it.  He'd read her like a book.

Layla squeaked as Jayden stood up without missing a beat and worked digit into her ass.  She wrapped her legs around him and braced for the fucking of her life.  The pumping was deliciously steady, relentless.  Yet they managed to kiss deeply, contstanly, her toungue wrestling his until it yielded. 

He set her down on the edge of her desk so he could take her ever deeper and harder.  She clutched the edge with all her strength, writhing atop her students' meaningless papers on this and that, so that she could push and pull in rhythm with him.  She felt impossibly, but perfeclty full and stretched.  Her clothes seem to have evaporated in the heat of their love-making as his hard body crashed down upon hers.

As her first of many orgasms shook through her body, Jayden Fuller whispered in her ear.

"You're my woman now.  And that'll be an 'A.'"

 Professor Pope's guttural moan of agreement sounded throughout the building before she managed to gasp, "Teach me!"