32M4F - A desperate MFM/DP encounter with the professor and teaching assistant

Scenario:

"... and the midterms we'll ideally want to have handed back within a week so we have time to go over them in class," I tell Marcos. "That'll be a pretty quick turnaround for you, but I think it's important."

The Latino teaching assistant nods, his mid-length curly black hair flopping over his ears. A second-year graduate student in the program, he is still inexperienced and unsure of himself professionally, yet very sharp and quite eager to please. "Okay, Professor Hart. I think I can manage that."

"Excellent. Now, have you thought any more about whether you could cover the Tragedy of the Commons lecture for me? I'll be in Chicago presenting at the Midwest conference that week."

He opens his mouth, but before he can speak up, you burst through the door, dripping wet from head to toe. I'd been in my office all morning and hadn't even noticed the pat-tat-tat of the torrential downpour against my window, so the sight of your rain-soaked figure, saturated clothes clinging to every curve of your body, takes me entirely off guard.

"God, um, Chelsea. Come in," I gesture to an empty chair covered in books.

Marcos leaps to his feet and clears room for you to sit, struggling to avert his eyes from admiring the landscape of your body that the rain has revealed -- at least a tantalizing yet unsatisfying sliver of it -- as he bends down to collect the books.

"Is everything alright?" I ask.

"Yeah sorry, I'm fine," you stammer, brushing a lock of wet hair from your eyes. "I mean, mostly fine. I just forgot my umbrella, everything's been so crazy lately. That's kind of why I needed to talk to you."

"Ah, you need to borrow an umbrella?" Marcos asks earnestly.

"Uh, thanks, but it's not that," you reply. "I wanted to talk to you about why I didn't turn in the environmental policy paper last week."

"Ah yes," I nod, stroking my chin. "You're probably acutely aware already that it is worth 20% of your final grade in this class. Now normally, any kind of deadline extension would need to be discussed with me in advance. I have to warn you upfront that exceptions can be made only in the rarest of circumstances. Okay?"

"I understand," you say, looking up for the first time from your feet to my steely gaze. "It's just that my personal life has been in a state of upheaval lately. I would have come to you sooner, I've just been so distracted. Um, my fiancé and I just broke it off. I caught him ... in bed ... with some big-titted sorority slut. He was never that nurturing to begin with, but I guess this was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. Anyways, the last week or so I've been having to call all my family to tell them the wedding's off, cancel all of our plans and reservations, deal with his disingenuous groveling -- the lying sack of shit. He didn't look that sorry when he had his cock buried in her ass."

Your mascara begins to run down your cheeks, and Marcos looks to me for a cue as to how to handle the situation. My strict standards of professionalism wage a heated and principled battle against the lustful swelling of intrigue that is beginning to rise beneath my desk as I watch water droplets glide down your chin, over your neck, and down between your breasts to whatever sublime depths lie below. I look up, and see you've caught me staring. Shit, I think, I don't have time to deal with HR right now. Yet I notice there is no offense or judgment in the look that you return to me. We lock eyes and you breathe a little heavier, allowing your chest to heave up and down, up and down, up and down as Marcos and I both fight to maintain eye contact with you. My heart hammers inside my chest, matching the rhythm of your breath.

Your finger traces the seam of your shirt as you look at me coyly and ask, "I'm just really struggling with a lot of things, but I want to make it right. Is there any way we can talk about this?"

I swallow hard. "Marcos, close the door please."

What happens next? Are you out for lustful revenge against your ex, or physical affirmation from more respectable male figures? Will you take charge and strive to earn (or blackmail?) your way to that second chance in our class? Or will you break down and succumb to our authority, fulfilling whatever extra assignments we might ask you to complete? I will RP both the professor and TA. You decide where we go from here.

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Kinks: Passionate consensual sex, group sex (FFM, MFM, or more), oral, anal, performing analingus, DP, gangbang, spanking, public, dirty talk, ass worship, teasing

Limits: BDSM, heavy violence, blood, scat, vomit, impregnation, incest, ageplay, animals, rape