Every marriage needs a little spice in it. Barbara decides her hubby, a professor at the local college, needs a birthday surprise he’ll never forget.
When Barbie shows up and pushes her way into his office and then his pants, trying to convince him to give her a passing grade so she can graduate in a couple of weeks, he his turned on like never before and has his way with her over his desk.
His birthday dinner is a bust, but a promise of Barbie’s return to his classroom is the best gift his wife could ever give him.
Barbie Baker nibbled on the end of her pen while she watched Professor Ronald Langle scribble scientific formulas on the massive blackboard at the front of the auditorium. He talked as he wrote, though he might as well have been speaking Swahili for all she understood it. Chemistry had been a mystery to her in high school, and it was a mystery to her now in college. But if she didn’t pass this class, she’d never graduate. Convincing a high school teacher to “let her slide” was a whole lot easier than talking a college professor into it, though.
She had her ways, of course. She’d emailed Professor Langle several times, even promising that her daddy would make a nice big contribution to the science department if he passed her with a C, but Ronny, there, was as straight-laced as they came.
Or so he professed.
He said he didn’t take bribes. Maybe it wasn’t money that he wanted. Needed.
The room erupted in shuffled papers and bag zippers as the class prepared to leave. Professor Langle said, “Chapter eighteen for Thursday. There will be a test.”
A collective groan went up from the students. Professor Langle loved his tests. They had one every week. Thank God the class was only twice a week! But Barbie kind of liked coming to Chemistry. Professor Langle was younger than most of the stodgy professors on campus. At barely thirty, he had the body of an athlete, and instead of the ugly brown suits so many other professors wore, he could always be found in jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off muscular forearms and a really tight ass.
He lived in an apartment just off campus, and he rode his bike to work every day. He worked out in the gym with the students, and she’d heard he went mountain biking and hiking often with a couple of the other younger instructors.
Yeah, she’d been checking up on him. Because there wasn’t another guy on campus, professor or student, who made her as wet as he did. All he had to do was look her way with those gorgeous chocolate eyes, and her panties got damp.
The room cleared of students, but she stayed in her seat. She watched as Professor Langle gathered up the papers spread over his desk and shoved them into the brown leather attaché case he carried everywhere he went. Then he went to work erasing all his hard work from the chalkboard. His shirt pulled tight over his shoulders as he reached. His jeans hugged that delicious-looking ass and thick thighs. Thighs she wanted to bite into. To lick.
Her pussy clenched.
And then he turned and spotted her, halfway up the right side of the room, near the aisle, because she was usually the first to make a run out of class so she could get to work at the Student Union. But she’d taken this afternoon off. She had a grade to earn.
“Was there something you needed?” Professor Langle asked as he walked up the steps toward her, heading for the door at the back of the room.
She slid out of the chair and stood up, gathering her book bag. “Yes, Professor. I’m Barbie Baker. I emailed you the other day about my father making a dona—”
He pressed his sensual lips into a thin line and gave his head a little shake. “And as I told you via email, your father’s donation will not earn you a C. Passing this class happens only one way.” He glanced at her book bag. She hadn’t bothered to open it during class.
“Do you think you could help me out then? Tutor me or something? Because I just don’t get it.” She pouted prettily. The boys liked it when she did that.
He turned and continued up the steps. “I’ll have my TA contact you with a list of chem tutors.”
She ran after him. “Wait, Professor. I think I need more than just another student helping me. Seriously. I’m totally lost.”
He kept walking, his long legs eating up a lot of space. She had to nearly jog to keep up, her low-heeled boots clip-clopping on the tile floor of the hallway.
“Maybe you should have asked for help before the last two weeks of the semester, Ms. Barker.”
“It’s Baker, and, well…”
He stopped outside his office and dug the key out of his jeans pocket. Her eyes were naturally drawn to the bulge at his crotch. Such a beautiful bulge. One she wanted to see without the cover of denim.
“Ms. Baker then. I think it’s safe to say you’ll be repeating Chem 101 next year.” He pushed open the door, and would have shut it in her face if she hadn’t nudged her way in behind him.
The room was tidy and tiny. A desk, a couple of bookshelves, and a massive filing cabinet. He set his attaché on the desk and looked at her. “We’re done here,” he said dismissively.
Barbie shut the door and leaned back against it. With her right hand, she turned the lock. “No, Professor, we’re not. I really, really need to pass this class. I’ve fulfilled all other requirements for graduation, and if you don’t pass me, I don’t graduate.”
“And this is my problem how? It’s not as if you didn’t know you were failing before today. You’ve failed every test I’ve given. Have you even opened your textbook?”
“But see, I have a job waiting for me in New York starting in July, but if I don’t graduate, I don’t get the job.”
He sat down in the chair behind the desk and unlocked the side drawer, withdrawing a laptop from it. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Ms. Baker, but I have a class to prep for. Please, let yourself out.”
He didn’t even look up at her as he opened his laptop and turned it on. Tears prickled her eyes, and she rushed around his desk, falling to her knees at his side.
“Please, Professor. You don’t understand. I need this job. I need to graduate. I’ve worked so hard for the last five years…” She gripped his thigh and swiveled his chair so she was between his knees. “I’ll do anything, Professor. Anything. I will. Just pass me. Just enough so I can graduate.”