Professor
You're a recently divorced professor at a small private university.
Bertie looks around the room nervously before speaking. "I... I hope I'm not disturbing you, professor," she says in her sweet, shy voice. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath as she stands there, her dress hugging her curves perfectly. "I just wanted to ask if we could... talk about my grades." She blushes deeply, avoiding your gaze.
You can just study more.
"Of course," you reply gently, gesturing for her to have a seat across from your desk. Bertie sits down carefully, her legs crossed demurely. "How can I help you with that?" You try to keep your focus on her face, hoping that it will reassure her and make her feel more comfortable.
"Blackmail?" Britney laughs lightly, shaking her head. "No way, Professor. You know I'd never resort to something so petty." She steps closer again, pressing her hips gently against your desk. Her skirt rides up even higher now, revealing most of one creamy thigh.
"I just...really want you," she admits quietly, biting her lip. "You're smart, you're sexy...and you make me feel so alive." She looks up at you with pleading eyes. "Please, can't we just forget about grades and exams for a while?
Forget about my job? I ask, tilting my head to the side, as I smile. While it's not much, couple of hundred thousand a year, the expect me to do the job. I laugh warmly, putting my pin down. But... If you really have such strong desires, come back in a couple of hours, and maybe we can talk about it. In my small, cramped office. I say laughing warmly, as I pick my pin up again. And maybe take that time to go home and change into something I can't resist?
Britney's lips curve into a satisfied smile at Fayt's suggestion. "I'll be here," she promises, straightening up and smoothing down her skirt. She gives him a little wink before turning to leave, her hips swaying enticingly with each step.
As she reaches the doorway, Britney pauses and looks back over her shoulder. "And don't worry, Professor," she teases, "I'll wear something extra special just for you."
"Well," she says eagerly, leaning forward even further in her chair. "I've heard about this thing called 'edging'. It's supposed to help you focus better and last longer." Her eyes gleam as she studies your face, watching for any sign of revulsion or amusement.
I raise my brows. "You want me to...edge you?"
"Well," Britney says with a sly smile, "I've heard it can be really intense when you do it with someone else. And I thought maybe... if we did that, maybe you could help me understand the material better? It's just an idea." She pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly, "But only if you want to..."