It's not like it was on purpose. It was a mistake. A terrible, horrible mistake. I was trying to submit my poetry explication, and uploaded the wrong file--the one explicitly and exclusively for my boyfriend.
I guess it wouldn't have been so bad if the picture was innocent. But by no means was this the case. I was completely nude, laying down on the bed, on my side. My short red hair over my shoulders and left hand upon my D-cup breasts. My right hand was teasing my lower half. There was a bra and a thong thrown on the floor.
The photo was totally, undeniably sexual, and the professor was going to punish me! What if I was expelled? What if he filed a lawsuit? I don't have the time, money or patience to deal with that kind of thing right now! The terror of the thing I had done took me over. I was trembling and hyperventilating for a good twenty minutes before I received a reply. I was not ready for what I was about to read.
“Dearest Brandi,
It seems as though you have sent me a naughty picture instead of the essay I have so graciously assigned to you. I am starting to question your motives in this course, because as it stands, you have a 62%. Did you even do the project I have requested, or is this a plea for a better grade? As it stands, I have two options as to how to go about this.
1. I can turn you and the picture you sent me in to the dean of the school board and have you punished for attempting to bribe a professor for a better grade.
2. I can accept this token of commitment for a better grade, and request that you see me privately in my quarters tomorrow at 6am sharp.
I can only assume you chose the second option. My address is listed below, Please be on time, for once,
12666 Wysteria Lane Dayton, OH
Signed,
Fredrick Harriet
Fredrick Harriet, English Professor.”
My mouth was gaped open in disgust. I had not been prepared for this type of response. I began reviewing my options. I could respond back, in attempts to explain myself-but at what cost? The professor most likely would only consider that begging—which would leave me in an even worse situation. I could… no that wouldn’t work either. I guess I had no other option… I had to do as he requested and go to the meeting at 6am to explain it in person. I just hoped what he had to say didn't lead to expulsion.
The alarm clock beeping in an annoying manner woke me up. It was 4am- too early for me. I rose, rubbed my eyes and got mentally ready to go to Professor Harriet’s house. I tossed the fleece blanket off of my naked body and stretched off the bed. My body was cold and my nipples were hard. I looked down at my D-cup breasts and noted that they looked particularly perky today-I may be able to use that to my advantage.
I sauntered over to the bathroom that was connected to my room by only a door, and turned the shower on. Stepping in, the warm water dripped down my head and onto my perky breasts. I grabbed the shampoo and started to lather it on my head, then rinsed it off, and did the same with the conditioner. Before I started to clean my body with the soap, I suddenly got nervous about the meeting with Professor Harriet.
Absent-mindedly I reached down with my right hand and started to stroke my vagina… something I normally do when I am nervous and alone. (It helps calm my nerves). I began to let my mind wander, as I let my body slide down the tile wall and onto the damp shower floor. I sat in the corner of the shower, so as to still stay warm but not let the pouring water interfere with my imagination.
I let my index and middle finger gently stroke the tip of my clitoris, and I continued to pleasure myself. Soon, my imagination wandered, and I began to think of Professor Harriet. He was exceedingly handsome for a 32 year old. He had penetrating bright green eyes and short blonde hair that he styled very professionally each day. He always had 5 o’clock shadow that only he could pull off, and he always smelled of a light cologne. He was average height, about 6’2 with an impeccable ass to boot. He had a perfectly sculpted figure- a real buff man with six pack and perfect pecs- I knew this because I once looked up his public teaching profile and there were many pictures of him and a class excavating in Egypt… with his shirt off.
Oh, he was everything a girl could want… but no girl could have the pleasure of having, except his wife-who was constantly out of town on some “business trip”. Come to think of it, I never realized how much I fancied him until now.
I reached a climax and suddenly remembered I had to meet Professor Harriet at six, and his house was almost an hour away. I washed up and stepped out of the shower, then I toweled off and made my way back to the dresser. I didn’t have a lot of professional looking attire, well, to be honest, I didn’t have a whole lot of attire at all. I grabbed a fancy thong, and a blue jean miniskirt out of my dresser and a short sleeved white button up collared blouse. After I got dressed, I put my deodorant on and brushed -my teeth and hair.
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“12666 Wysteria Lane, this is it,” I said to myself. I turned off the ignition and climbed out of my car, taking extra care to make my boobs look nice and perky before heading up to the Professor’s door. I rang the doorbell and checked my watch to make sure I was on time. 5:59am- Perfect.
The door opened and Professor Harriet stood before me in a suit and tie, oddly formal for a private meeting, but nevertheless, attractive. I thought of extending my arm for a handshake before making a fool of myself… but it was too late for that, I could feel my cheeks burning red from realization that I had masturbated to him earlier this morning.
“I’ve been expecting you, Brandi,” the professor said in one of those voices you would expect an attractive movie villain to have.