It was exam week. He had more than the usual number of students this semester, and had brought home a stack of tests to grade. He’d set up at the game table in the basement and begun marking papers after dinner. He didn’t notice footsteps going up, then down, and down again until he heard a knock at the other end of the room.

He looked up from the red, bleeding sheets in front of him. There stood a woman wearing a white button-up shirt and a short plaid skirt. Her hair was pulled to the side in a pair of ponytails, and she had socks pulled up to just below her knees. She hadn’t worn that skirt in forever. He didn’t think she still had it.

“Professor,” she called. “I was just curious if you’d had a chance to grade my exam yet. May I come in?”

He didn’t recognize her as one of his students. Still, if she was concerned about her grade, better to deal with it now rather than later.

“Of course, have a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs on the other side of the table. Her hips swayed from side to side as she walked, and she pulled the chair away from the table further than there was reason to. He had a clear view of her legs.

“It’s just that I’ve worked hard all semester and I’m afraid that I really…blew…the final. I really need to pass.” She emphasized a few of her words, letting them hang in the air between them.

“Well, miss, I…umm,” he stumbled. “Phew, is it warm in here? My office gets so stuffy.” He undid the top button on his shirt and tugged at his collar. “Let me find your test and look through it.” He shuffled around at the papers on the table, pulling out one that had a particularly large amount of red ink on it.

Her face fell when she saw the blood, and she leaned back in her seat. He noticed the dark outline of a bra through her shirt. Black?, he thought before he saw just a hint of it peeking past the second open button. “No, dark green,” he said.

“Dark green what? Huh?” She was confused, though given the amount of red on the page, probably not the first time.

Shit, that was out loud. “Maybe I should have used dark green instead of red,” he offered weakly.

“Professor, I…”

“I’m sorry, Miss. but it looks like you got a 69 on your final; you needed at least a 90 to pass.”

“I just don’t know what to do. I’ve done everything, I did some of the homework, I even bought the textbook. Is there any way I can pass? Extra…credit?”

“Your grade is what it is, I’m not sure what else you can do to get…”

She stood and walked around to his side of the table. “I mean, is there anything I can do to get this up?”

He was suddenly acutely aware of the gap between the top of her socks and the hem of her skirt. Her skirt was much shorter than he realized.

“Are you staring, Professor?” She noticed where his eyes were looking. He quickly raised them but only managed to bring them as high as her chest.

“Umm…no…what do you…,” he stammered. “What are you doing over here?”

She was tracing a hand down the open buttons of her shirt. “I’m asking what. Can.” She deftly opened another button right between her breasts. “I. Do?” She spread her shirt open with her thumb and forefinger. “Dark green, Professor?”

His left hand was at the side of her leg. He wasn’t sure when it got there, but his thumb was stroking her thigh. She used her right hand to reach down for it and guide it up and under her skirt.

“Do you think anything else is dark green?,” she asked.

He gulped.

She pulled his fingertips until they reached fabric under her skirt, then slid his hand around to cup her buttock.

“How’s my grade looking now, professor?”

He raised his right hand to between her breasts and ran a finger at the edge of the cup of her bra, then popped another button. Her shirt was open to her navel. He pushed it around either side of her breasts, putting the green bra on full display, then pulled her in closer, placing his lips on the exposed skin between them.

“Might be up to a C-cup,” he said wryly. He ran his right hand up her thigh to join his left at her ass and pulled her in closer, nuzzling the beautiful cleavage and kissing the part of her breast that was showing.

“A C? Is that all?” Once both of his hands were on her ass she had placed both of hers on his shoulders but now was guiding his head around her chest. “Let’s see if we can get that…up.” She pulled down on one cup, exposing her nipple, and drew his face towards it.

He took the tight brown nipple into his mouth, his tongue tracing circles around it and flicking it back and forth. She let out a moan as he sucked and kissed her breast. One of his hands had slid under the fabric of her panties and was squeezing her cheek directly.

She pushed his head away from her chest and reached to the center of her chest where the cups of her bra met. He hadn’t noticed it was a front hook, but a quick flip of her fingers separated the cups and she pushed them aside, both breasts now on display for him. He gave the other nipple the same treatment and she ran her fingers through his hair as he did.

“Mmmm…,” she said. “You said I would needed a 90 on the final, huh? What are we up to now?”

“Low 80s, sugar. Not everyone can get an A, just the way it is.” He was going to find out how far she would take this little scene, and he couldn’t just hand out As to any cute thing in a short skirt who got her tits out for him. He moved his face back to her breast but she pushed him back.

“Low. 80s? Professor. Really? I’ve already let you touch my ass, gotten my tits out.”

“Mmm…and they are lovely.” He reached out and caressed her nipple. “Spectacular. But an A is only for those students who really go the extra mile.”

“Extra mile for extra credit? Is that how it is?,” she asked. She stepped forward and straddled him in the chair, placed her arms around his neck, and looked him in the eye. She rocked her hips and felt him hard against her. She was wet. Soaked, in fact. She wondered if he could tell.

“I feel you,” she said to him, “and I feel like there just might be more…” She placed her lips on the nape of his neck, sucked a little, and ran her tongue over the skin, then kissed her way to his ear. “…more you can do for my grade. Surely,” she moved his hands to the small of her back, “there’s more than a ‘low 80s’ here. A girl might be insulted.” She looked at him and pouted.

He couldn’t breathe. Even through his shorts, her panties, he felt like her pussy was on fire. She continued to grind against him.

He pulled her fiercely and forcefully into a kiss, and she opened her mouth to welcome his tongue. Her hips moved faster and he used one hand to push her down onto him harder.

“High 80s?,” he suggested to her.

“Not enough for you, professor? Because definitely not enough for me.”

She slid off of him and stood up. She turned around and bent over, revealing the matching dark green panties to him before hooking her thumbs under the waist and slowly sliding them down. She stepped out of them and held them up, then lazily draped them over his head. She dropped to her knees and tapped one of his legs, telling him to lift his hips so she could relieve him of his pants.

When his cock sprang free she took it in one hand and leaned into it. He sucked in air through his teeth.

“If you want me…,” she kept her eyes locked to his as she moved her mouth around him without touching it, “…to suck…”. She ran her tongue along the length of it and took the head into her mouth without touching it. Her breath was hot against the sensitive head. “…your dick, I need to know that there’s more than just a, what did you say? 90 on the final?”

He nodded his head and in a second she had him as deep into her mouth as she could take him. Soft, velvety, warm, and wet. “Nine…ninety five.” He stuttered. “We can probably make it…a…ninety five.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as she worked. After a few minutes of this, she stood and straddled him again but did not sit onto him.

“Feel me,” she said. “Touch me.”

He put his hand between her legs. They were tacky with moisture even a few inches above her knee. As his hand moved higher she became more and more slick. His fingers reached her lips and he stroked them before focusing his attention on her clit. She bent down to kiss him and he slid two fingers into her, his thumb continuing to massage her button.

She moaned and pressed her hip harder against his hand. “Does that…feel like…like a 95?”

“No, miss, it does not.”

She slowly lowered herself until the head of his cock pressed against her clit and she ground on it for a moment. Her lips met his and he moved his cock to slide into her. She sunk down fully onto him.

“Goddamn, woman,” he breathed, “you feel amazing.”

“How amazing, Professor? Do you think I will pass?” She gyrated her hips, then reached between them and spread her lips so she could grind directly against her clit. She was close.

The words were getting more difficult to form. She lifted a breast to his mouth and he put his lips around the nipple. The added stimulation put her over the edge. Her hips bucked and she cried out as she came.

He followed almost immediately and she felt a fresh heat inside her. His eyes widened as he looked into hers and she gave him a wicked, satisfied grin.

“This poor chair,” she said after a moment of calm. “And my hips, Professor, I need to know that my grade was worth this soreness in my hips.”

“Oh, my love, I think we can just go ahead and put an A in the gradebook for you,” he responded.

She slid off him and stood, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good,” she said, almost cheerfully. She finished unbuttoning the shirt and took it off, tossing it into the laundry area. The bra slid off her back but she held it in her hands. She picked up the underwear from beside his chair and slid them back on. “Now, how many more of those do you really need to grade before you take your wife to bed?”

“I dunno,” he replied. “You gonna keep that skirt on or no?”

She winked at him and turned on her heel, crossing around the table and walked toward the stairs to their bedroom.