A week of reconnaissance on her part was worth the time invested. The history professor who had recently passed her in his course was still at work that night, staring intently at his laptop screen. It was late enough for the hallways to be deserted and their lights lowered. Even the classroom was dark except for the immediate area around the professor's desk.

She watched him through the narrow glass panel in the door, excitement welling within her. He looked so studious and benign in his current posture, yet she knew better. She had been on the receiving end of his sadistic tirade after the lecture in which she flashed him and broke his concentration beyond recovery.

To her, it was just some innocent fun.

Well, maybe not so innocent. She had wanted him in the worst way and, as of the end of the term, he still hadn't made a move in spite of all her ruses. What did she have to do, strip off in class and hide under his desk?

She would sooner have done that than submit to the ‘assignment’ he demanded of her in order to pass the course, the one where she had to film herself masturbating in a lit room with open blinds and shouting the filthiest play by play at the top of her lungs.

She was still living with the consequences manifest in the snickers of her house mates and the leering stares of the boys next door every time she left or returned home. If it didn't blow over soon, she might have to find another place to live.

As if that weren’t enough, she discovered something even more humiliating.

And soon I will repay him for this, my way. Because for all his formal education, he doesn't know the first thing about me.

Suppressing her nervousness, she knocked and entered.

He looked up, startled, and hastily closed his screen. "Yes, Miss...?" he began gruffly. He had just been watching her video again, and here she was in person! His pulse accelerated as he assessed the young woman in the flesh. He noticed the wavy hair unrestrained by its usual braid, the faintly exotic tilt of her eyes, the beckoning curves of her braless tits under the tight sleeveless top.

Saved by the desk, he thought, aware of the stirring the onscreen pictures had begun and made more prominent by his visitor.

If the arrogant prick can’t bother to remember my name, then I won’t bother to remind him. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, but I never got a chance to talk to you about..." She swallowed. "...the assignment you gave me. You never said anything about...how you liked it personally?"

Liked it? He had wanked to it for days afterward. He couldn't remember the last time he had come so quickly or messily.

On second thought, he could, but neither one was any of her business.

"The course is completed," he answered curtly. "You did as I asked. You passed. What more is there to discuss?"

She was prepared for his dismissive attitude. ”My final grade, Sir. We both know that I deserved more than a passing one.”

He scowled. “If you don’t mind, Miss...I have work to do.” And I have a raging hard on which will need to be addressed the minute you leave.

He wants to play hardball, does he? She tugged her phone out of a hip pocket and tapped it a few times, then held it up.

Suddenly he heard his own voice coming from the device in her manicured hand. The vulgarities he had spewed at her before he handed her the assignment split the air like profane bullets.

His groin throbbed even harder as he remembered that day and the fear in her eyes as he showed her who had the upper hand.

"Will you listen to me now, Professor?" Not a question, but a statement. The soft sexy eyes glowed dangerously.

Crap. I underestimated the sly bitch. She might have won this skirmish but the war is a long way from over. “Very well, then,” he capitulated. Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll offer an in-person performance.

“May I sit?” Without waiting for his answer, she perched herself on the front row desk opposite him, her short skirt riding up a pair of beautifully shaped legs to reveal the sight that had turned him into a rambling idiot during his lecture. This time, instead of black lace, a bright pink strip of a thong vividly bisected her smooth lips.

As he stared, wondering if she would take it off and give him a good look at what was already burned into his eyelids at night, and examining for signs of her wetness for him, he was dimly aware that she was speaking.

Wait just a minute. Take those knickers off for me and toss them over here, you horny little slut.

Was he hearing things, or was she reciting all the correct answers on the final exam from memory?

And I thought she was just another airhead getting by on flashing the teacher. I can’t believe she actually listened to the lectures and studied instead of screwing her way through school as I imagined. Maybe doing both. Certainly must be doing someone. What else was this cock teaser going to pull from her sleeve, if she were wearing one?

Oh, no...it’s not her sleeve she’s pulling now...

She reached beneath her skirt and slowly began to work the thong down over her hips and thighs, creating one threaded visual collage after another as she rattled off names, dates, and events with chronological precision. The absurd juxtaposition of her intellect and her smoking hot, half naked body sent his mind reeling.

Omigosh. A waxing had obliterated the landing strip. And check out those pouting pussy lips in need of a skilled tongue. Mine.

Her alluring thighs shifted further apart as she expanded to her essay topic and showed surprising perception about the roles played by Mrs. Thatcher, the national media and even MI-5 in the 1984 labor conflict, and the unintended consequences of each side’s actions. Her knickers look so naughty looped around her knees like that.

Bet he's not listening to a word of this. Look at him; his tongue is practically hanging out.

“Professor, did you even bother to look at the exam I turned in? I doubt it, because all the answers I just gave you were in it.”

Ohh...look how she's tossing them around on her ankles...does she have any idea how fucking hot that is?

Truth was, he hadn’t. Her video had been so much more compelling.

"My point, Sir, is that I was only playing dumb in the hope that you would offer some...remedial tutoring. But you didn't, not even before the finals. I can see that my hoping to get you alone that way was futile."

She can keep talking all she wants, long as she keeps her legs open like that.

”And the only reason I agreed to your special ‘assignment’ was because I would have done just about anything to please you...that way...” she confessed, removing the thong and suggestively toying with it in her nimble fingers.

Her motion had exposed even more of herself. If she doesn't stop soon, I can't take responsibility for what happens next.

Sensing she had him at his weakest, she laid the discarded pink tuft next to the phone and eased herself off her desk, walking around his until she stood behind him.

"I wonder what you were just watching on your laptop, Professor." She bit off the syllables in his title.

He forced a sternness he wasn't feeling. "N-nothing. That's none of your business."

She leaned over, her tits brushing his shoulder. He felt it catch fire through his shirt. "Well, you have me curious, especially after seeing you from this vantage point."

No hiding it now, he thought, aware that her gaze was fixed on his acutely tented trousers.

The subtle, feminine fragrance of her skin wafted in his nostrils; the tips of her long hair tickled his wrist.

She thought about the times he rolled up his shirt sleeves when the room got warm, and how the sight of his virile arms made her loins shiver.

He felt her tits crush deeper into his shoulder as she reached for his keyboard. "What do we have here?"

She refreshed his screen and found a folder labeled 'Dirty.' "Hmm, I get the feeling this has nothing to do with the miners' strike. Is that my video, Professor? Were you thinking of getting off to it again when I interrupted you? You can tell me," she crooned cozily.

His mind scrambled with the possibilities. Should I come clean and tell her? Would she be horny enough to want to watch me get myself off to her own peep show?

While his cock twitched and bulged from the idea, she decisively closed the laptop lid. "Or would you rather get off on the real thing?" she probed.

She squeezed onto the desk directly in front of him and maneuvered her knees open around his chair. Her skirt abandoned its pretense and strained as a nondescript band somewhere above her pelvis.

His mouth was completely dry as he contemplated the closeup of what he had ogled from a distance. Fuck, just look at her. She's wet enough for both of us.

"As you just said, Professor, the course is completed. Forget all your power games. You've made me wait long enough." She carefully removed his reading glasses and set them aside.

And caressing his thick dark hair, she guided his head slowly toward the exquisite ache between her legs.

"You’ve wanted this all along, haven't you?" she whispered.

"Fuck, yes," he admitted, leaning into the sweet musk of her need for him.

She could hardly believe that the same lips that had formed such biting epithets so recently were capable of such tenderness as they mouthed her shivering inner thighs.

The same tongue over which flowed the chaste, analytical dissertations of his profession now lasciviously teased her intimate folds like a butterfly hovering on a dahlia.

Ohh, he really knows what he's doing and it feels incredible...I won't last at all...

She felt the metal of the laptop under her spine as she lay back on the desk. She wouldn't have minded crushing it and the poisonous secrets it contained.

His hands settled assertively near the tops of her thighs as if to keep her right where he wanted her. In response, her muscles flexed a token effort of resistance before crashing on the rocks of his superior strength. The feeling of helplessness amplified every sensation blazing through her. His breath, cool and scorching. The gentle scrape of stubble on soft flesh. The licking, ever more inquisitive, ever more insistent...

When at last his tongue honed in just beneath her clit, she moaned and came violently, surprising them both. It had taken less than a minute.

The hot little minx. You'd think she never got laid. Well, that’s about to change. He redirected his nuzzling licks away from her epicenter as her contractions eased, then she gave another cry of erotic distress and released a second time. A third. A fourth.

She went limp under his hands, her still-clothed breasts heaving in the aftermath. I wonder if he’ll finally give in and fuck me now, she thought deliriously.

He stood and unzipped himself, more than ready to take his turn. I need a good, hot fuck right this minute. So does she. And I'm just the one to give it to her.

But he needed to see those tits to sweeten the deal. I'll flash these for you, slut, and like the good slut you are, you won't stop me.

He pushed up her blouse roughly, gasped, and poised his cock head at the furrow of her slippery, needy snatch.

His strong hands pinned her arms to the desk. She owes me big time after teasing me all semester. This is going to be sooo very good...

The room was abruptly flooded with a harsh glare as the rest of the overhead lights were snapped on.

He blinked and froze at first, then sank back into his chair and frantically attempted to stuff himself back into his pants when he saw the four other female students walking toward them, all of whom had familiar faces, and all in provocative states of dress.

She got up from the desk and pulled her blouse and skirt coolly back into place.

"What the fuck!" he sputtered, his face twisted with fury and frustration.

"Professor," she intoned icily, "how long did you think it would take me to find out about Tina? And Nikki? And Kylie? And Joanna? And whoever else you gave your mass produced masturbation 'assignment'? Exactly how many have you distributed?"

"Cat got your tongue?" she taunted her silent lover. "Hope not. It's an exquisitely talented one."

Then, leaning closely to his ear, she murmured, "It would have been a hot fuck, wouldn’t it? Now you’ll never know. But look on the bright side; you got to see and feel me come for real. Because the one I did for you on camera was fake."

She smiled at the shock on his face. "That’s right. You didn’t know I minored in theater, did you?"

She could major in theater after what I saw. Hell, she could run the department.

"I could tell from the look on your face that day that you were going to give me a failing grade, no matter how perfect my history exam was, unless I followed your dirty terms and conditions. Well, I couldn’t get off on your letter if I tried, and doubly glad I didn’t after figuring out that you had a stable of cam girls who already aced the ‘assignment’. So yes, fake. Pretty convincing, huh?”

He noticed uneasily that one of the newcomers had taped a black poster board over the door's glass panel.

Her expression darkened again. “You fucked with the wrong girl, Professor.”

The 'teacher's pets' surrounded the dumbstruck lecturer. Let's see him try to talk his way out of this one, she thought wickedly.

"All right, girls. It's time to get our horny historian out of his clothes and ready for his closeup," she instructed them. "Soon as I get the camera set up, we'll be making a video of our own."