Homework Help for Heather
I’d been teaching advanced writing for Penn State for several years, but I’d never seen anyone like Heather before. It wasn’t her looks, it was the way she had looks without seemingly being concerned about looks. I’d told myself as a grad student that I’d never sleep with a student, but Heather was different. She was more than a student to me.
One afternoon I received an email from her inviting me to her off-campus apartment for some help with homework she was having trouble with. I had a hard time imagining her having difficulty with any type of school work, but I replied that I could come over later that evening. She thanked me and said she looked forward to it.
As I walked toward her apartment, I realized that she hadn’t even told me what kind of homework she needed help with. Perhaps I would luck out and it would be something I could help her with, making me seem a hero to her 21 year old damsel in distress.
She answered the door wearing a short low cut dress that let me see the shape of her breasts. Concentrate on her eyes, concentrate on her eyes, I thought as I smiled and she motioned for me to come in.
“I’m glad you made it,” she said. “I really didn’t want to ask, but I have to pass this class.”
“It’s not a problem,” I said, “I’m here to help. What do you seem to be having problems …”
Before I could finish the thought, she’d stopped in middle of the living room and slipped off the sun dress. She stood before me naked, peering into my eyes, trying to figure out what I was thinking. The problem was that I didn’t know what I was thinking at that exact moment either – other than that I needed to feel her against me.
I walked across the room and took her in my arms, her firm skin felt good as I moved my hands over my body.
“I have this biology exam, you see,” she said weakly and I smiled. Her humor attracted me to her. Almost as much as her pert breasts. Well, ok, the breasts attracted me a little more. At least at the current moment.
I started kissing her body as her hands began to undress me. Soon we were on the couch moving together. She whispered to me in French. I didn’t know what she was saying, but I knew what her body was saying as I moved in and out of her on the couch. Soon we both climaxed, our bodies pressing together furiously.
We played a few games of Scrabble then went at it one more time in her bedroom. I felt bad about giving her a B in my class at the end of the semester, but I wasn’t grading her on our time spent alone. She understood. She was wonderful that way. We ended up spending a few more nights together before we drifted apart after she graduated, but nothing compared to that first night I helped her with her homework … all night long.
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