I was surprised when Mrs. Hartman insisted that I come by her classroom for the extra credit exam. I thought I had been doing well in Unknown Erotic Works 201 and I didn’t think my grades were in trouble. When Mrs. Hartman had announced the special test for extra credit, I thought I could skip it. Mrs. Hartman approached me after class and made it perfectly clear that I needed to attend.
Mrs. Hartman approaching me was all that was needed to make me show up. I had a crush on Mrs. Hartman, which wasn’t all that unusual at Eros University. We were the only university that I know of that has a student/teacher dance followed by a student/teacher slumber party at the sports center. A lot of students fuck their teachers here but I had it bad for Mrs. Hartman. Maybe it was because writing papers about lost works of erotica never presented an opportunity for sex in the class.
I walked into the class at my appointed time on a Saturday. Other students were enjoying morning orgies at the recreation center but I was attending class. I had no regrets. Some one on one time with Mrs. Hartmam, even in a test situation, was good enough for me.
My heart sank as I saw that we were not alone. There was a female student tied to Mrs. Hartman’s desk. She was on her back and completely naked, right down to the lack of pubic hair on her sex. The student was Asian, with lovely small breasts topped with erect nipples. Rope held down her wrists and ankles, spreading her indecently on the desk. Long black hair spilled over the edge of the desk. A gag covered her mouth but she moaned when she saw me. She wriggled with slutty desire against her bonds.
“Keith, I am so glad you took my advice,” Mrs. Hartman said.
I smiled weakly, afraid to say something silly. I was also embarrassed that I didn’t see her at first. She was opening the blinds to the windows and the sun bathed her in a radiant glow. Her fading blonde hair turned into an angel’s halo. Black glasses couldn’t hide her laughing eyes. Instead of her usual pantsuit, she was only wearing a red lace bra and matching red lace panties. She still wore heels though, which elevated her perfect ass to even greater heights.
“I want to make sure that I do the best work possible,” I said. Damn it, I ended up saying stupid after all.
Mrs. Hartman smiled as she walked back to her desk. “You always do excellent work, Keith. Your comments on Tolkein’s bondage trilogy were quite remarkable. I also thought you showed spectacular insight into Margaret Mitchell’s motives when she wrote ‘Brett’s Fancy Brother’.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hartman,” I said. I glanced towards the moaning female. “I take it that she didn’t do so well with the extra credit?”
Mrs. Hartman shook her head as she sat down at her desk. She brushed her finger against the student’s breast. The woman whimpered.
“No, Keith, she’s from another class,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I teach Self-Denial 101 and this little tramp did the best. She has managed to go an entire month without an orgasm and without the use of a chastity device. She has given twelve handjobs, nine blowjobs and fingered three women to orgasm in that time but she herself has not had even a finger inside her. Isn’t that true, Hiromi?”
Hiromi nodded vigorously.
“You see, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman explained, “your grades are excellent. I still think there is room for reward for good studying though, and sometimes we must look for credit outside of numerical values. Simply put, if you answer my three questions, then you may relieve Hiromi of her abstinence.”
Hirmoi moaned louder. I was glad because it covered the moan that came from my mouth.
“So far, five other students have tried this morning and failed,” she said. “Poor Hiromi here is about to die. If you fail, I’ll have to dismiss you and pleasure her myself.”
My cock throbbed at the thought if that.
“Now, Keith, please stand between Hiromi’s legs,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I want you to have a good view of what you are playing for.”
I took my place. I stood to the side of the desk and looked down on Hiromi’s waiting body. She looked up at me and lifter her hips towards me. Moisture glistened in her bare sex.
Mrs. Hartman leaned back in her chair. She propped her legs up on the desk, resting one heel on Hiromi’s arm and the other heel across Hiromi’s stomach. She slipped her hand under her lace panties and I thought my cock was going to come right there.
“Are you ready, Keith?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“What was the title of William S. Burroughs’ unpublished sex novel?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
That was a tricky one. Most of Burroughs’s work was pretty filthy but there was one book that shamed even him. Not many people have even heard of it and the one copy in existence was locked away in the Colette-Ashbee collection. Still, I had heard of it.
“The Lobster Lover,” I answered.
Mrs. Hartman smiled at me. That was worth more than any sex with a horny slut.
“Very good,” she said. Her fingers stroked underneath her panties.
“Next question, name the three lovers in Charles Dickens’ ‘An Easter Party’.”
Oh shit. We covered that in class but it was a pretty boring story. A poor mother of a chimney sweep has sex with three people with afford to buy a gift for her son. It wasn’t my favorite by a long shot.
Hiromi whimpered before me. My hesitation to answer wasn’t giving her any confidence.
“Mr. Cockins, the baker,” I said, “and Mr. Scrotum, the policeman and umm, Mr. . . .”
Mrs. Hartman slowed down in her masturbating. A slight frown appeared on her face.
Shit! I almost forgot. “Wait, the last lover appeared to be Mr. Ass, the Vicar but really he was Jesus in disguise.”
Mrs. Hartman smiled. “Very good, Keith. No one else today has gotten that one right.”
I didn’t think it was physically possible, but Hiromi managed to spread her legs even wider.
Mrs. Hartman took her hands out of her panties and reached for her breast instead. It was still covered by her black lace bra but fuck, the sight of her breast being squeezed by her wet hand was almost enough to send me over the dge.
“Last question,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Identify Henry Rider Haggard’s only known erotic work.”
I felt a great relief wash over me. Mrs. Hartman wasn’t aware of my interest in turn of the century pulps so she wouldn’t know that I spent extra attention in class when his name came up. I couldn’t track down the book that she had mentioned but it was on my list that I keep searching for.
“She Who Must Come,” I said.
Mrs. Hartman blinked behind her glasses. “That is absolutely correct,” she said.
Hiromi shuddered. She moaned as she wiggled her hips back and forth. Her cunt waited for me.
“Just one moment, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. She stood up and began to work on the knot holding Hiromi’s left ankle. “You have won your extra credit fair and share, but I was wondering if you would be interested in answering one more question for an extra prize?”
My heart was pounding in my chest. “What is the prize?”
“The prize would be me,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I would help you fuck Hirmoi here and you as well. Would you like that?”
“Yes, yes, please,” I said. My voice trembled a little. “What is the question?”
“You just answered it,” Mrs. Hartman said.
She kissed me while Hiromi groaned. Mrs. Hartman’s lips were everything I had imagined them to be. Soft and commanding, I felt like I was drinking from the lips of the wisest woman on campus.
Mrs. Hartman broke the kiss and reached for my pants. I stood there as she unzipped me and pulled my cock from my underwear. Her fingers wrapped around my cock and gave me the squeeze that I had often daydreamed so much about.
“You’re in luck, Hiromi. This is a fine cock indeed.”
Hiromi reached for me with her one free foot.
“Start eating her while I free the other foot,” Mrs. Hartman said. “The poor girl has been here all morning waiting for a good student.”
My cock throbbed. She called me a good student! I felt like I could fuck the entire literature department!
I dived into Hiromi’s sex. She cried out on the first lick. Fuck, she was wet. In all the erotic books, the writers talk endlessly about how wet the women are but Hiromi was fiction come to life. There was a fountain of desire between her thighs and I licked as much as I could.
“Fuck!” Hiromi cried out. Mrs. Hartman must have released her hands because I felt both of Hiromi’s hands pushing my head down. Her hips moved and she fucked my face with her pussy. I kept licking although I was sure just the presence of my face was enough for her.
“Finally”! she cried out. Her body froze in the throes of her orgasm. I felt her hands let go of my head and I cautiously stood up. Hiromi melted in front of my eyes. She went from frozen tension to a liquid limpness in seconds. I felt ridiculously proud of myself even though I knew it was the denial that had all of the responsibility.
Mrs. Hartman came back around the desk towards me. “Give her a moment, and she will be ready for more. This one used to fuck herself three times a day.”
“Okay,” I said meekly. My favorite teacher was standing on front of me and I would obey anything that she had to say.
Mrs. Hartman didn’t say anything. She squatted down before me on her high heels. I looked down on her and her intelligent eyes and red lace covered breasts. My cock throbbed inched from her lips. I wanted nothing more than for her to take me in her mouth but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I didn’t have to say anything to say either. Mrs. Hartman opened her lips and my hips did the rest. My cock went into her mouth and down, down, down her throat. She sucked all of my cock right down to the right. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had never been consumed so utterly before.
Mrs. Hartman sucked my cock. Sensations flooded my mind. I could feel her tongue, her lips, her breath and her very presence. Looking at her didn’t make it any easier to understand. This beautiful woman had my cock in her mouth and her eyes looked up at me with excitement and affection.
All of the erotica that we had covered in class seemed pointless. No writer could describe what I was feeling. It was a mixture of heavenly bliss and earthly pleasure. It was about suction and achieving the impossible. It was about that special feeling of a tongue from a woman you respect. It was about the joy of knowing you could come at any second down the throat of a teacher. How can you write that? How could anyone possibly convey that feeling for others to read?
Hiromi moaned. Free, she was stroking herself and spreading her thighs. She watched Mrs. Hartman suck me with jealous eyes.
Mrs. Hartman pulled my cock out of her mouth. “I told you Hiromi would be ready. Give her what she needs.”
I obeyed though I was reluctant to leave Mrs. Hartman’s mouth. I moved between Hiromi’s thighs and her legs wrapped around me possessively. This was a woman whose need was so much simpler than mine. I wanted my crush and she wanted a cock. Her desire was a vacuum that I wanted to fill.
My cock pushed into her lovely tight pussy. It was just as wet as before except now I could feel the powerful muscles clenching around me. When I pulled my hips back for a thrust, her greedy muscles clenched and forced me to fight for every inch out.
Mrs. Hartman sat on the desk beside us. She had her back to Hiromi and was facing me. I kept fucking Hiromi but my eyes were on Mrs. Hartman. I watched in fascination as she unclasped her bra. After a semester of looking at her cleavage, I could finally see her breasts.
I fucked faster.
“Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Come here, but keep fucking.”
Mrs. Hartman pulled my head down to her breasts. I smelled perfume and body wash. I kissed soft flesh and licked hardening nipples. I moaned and I thanked the my advisor for signing me up for this class.
I also kept fucking.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” Hiromi cried out.
Once again, Hiromi’s body froze. I stopped in mid thrust as her body clenched and then relaxed. My hips were still but my mouth was busy. I didn’t want to stop kissing Mrs. Hartman’s breasts for a second. I nibbled and kissed as much as I could with the knowledge that I may never kiss them again.
“Keith, it is time for you to fuck me, don’t you think?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
Mrs. Hartman leaned back on the desk beside Hiromi. She pulled down and then kicked off her panties. Mrs. Hartman put one arm around the Asian girl and pulled her closer. Mrs. Hartman turned on her side and slipped a finger into Hiromi’s sex. My teacher opened her thighs and invited me towards her sex.
I didn’t waste a second. Still slick from being inside Hiromi, I plunged into Mrs. Hartman’s waiting pussy. She wasn’t as tight and she wasn’t as wet but fuck, it was heaven.
I fucked Mrs. Hartman. My teacher fingered Hiromi. The Asian student buried her face in Mrs. Hartman’s breasts.
This was education. This was erotica. This was fucking. This was everything I wanted and more.
I thought about the stories that we had covered in Mrs. Hartman’s class. The sex scenes always had a dozen physical variations. We chartered a hundred different words for a pussy. We created sentence diagrams of flowery descriptions of sex. I felt like it all missed the point. Erotica wasn’t about euphemisms and descriptions; it should be about this.
It should be about fucking.
We fucked. I felt my orgasm coming. I tried to fight it but it was useless. This wasn’t porn. This was real life and I was about to bust my load in my teacher while she fingered another student. I stopped fighting it and I let it happen.
Working together, Hiromi and I brought Mrs. Hartman to orgasm on our fingers.
Our performance didn’t affect our grades that semester, but Hiromi and I were more than happy with our extra credit.