Scream for Me, Baby
Copyright© 2026 by smutoink
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - When a straight A's student deliberately fails her English course, she prepositions her professor for a mutually beneficial arrangement. He gets orgasms. She gets good grades and well, orgasms too.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction School
It was late, and the English Department had fallen silent, but I knew Professor Howard would still be in his office, sitting behind his desk, and grading stacks and stacks of test sheets like he always does. I walked through empty corridors, and overhead fluorescent lights threw shadows everywhere it touched. My chucks were silent against the floor, and I turned a corner and went all the way to the end of the hallway, not stopping until I got to his office door. The dark carved wood was shut.
Without thinking, I knocked on it. Three short raps.
A shuffle came from behind the door, and I imagined him gathering himself. I played with the hem of the skirt I was wearing. The pleats came down to the top of my thighs.
“Come in,” his gruff voice said.
The hand I had on the doorknob shook a little as chills slithered down to rest on the base of my spine.
I went in; the door creaked open. Green eyes widened. “Poppy? Why are you here so late? Is there a problem?”
I shook my head. “Not exactly.”
“Did something happen?”
Professor Howard came from his desk towards me, concern etched on his face. He reached behind me and closed the door I’d opened, shrouding us in complete privacy, his body crowding mine. He was close now. So close that his scent rattled in my head. Strong arms brushed my hands when he stepped away, but the damage was already done. From somewhere deep in my cunt, I could feel wetness seep out and dampen my folds. No one had a right to be as hot as he was right now. His shirt was open at the throat (he must have tugged off his tie and dumped it somewhere), and he had his white button-down rolled up at the sleeves.
I wet my lips and glanced down. Big mistake because it made me inadvertently look at his crotch. Heat crept up my cheeks. “I was hoping you could teach me something.”
God, that was so pathetic. Why did I have to suck so bad at flirting?
My professor looked at me for a beat. Then at the clock. Then his eyes came back at me, incredulous. “At quarter past six pm?”
“I couldn’t wait till morning.”
“Obviously.” He raked his fingers through inky black hair and turned around to go back to his desk. But he didn’t go to his chair. Instead, he half sat on the desk. “Okay. Tell me then. What is it?”
“I don’t think I performed to my full capacity in your last test.”
He frowned. “Why do you think you failed?”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the last second. I’d deliberately flunked my test two days ago to get a private audience with Professor Howard--of course he was going to wonder why a straight-A student suddenly failed a test, and he’d invite me into his office, and I would--I don’t know, seduce him or something. But he still hadn’t, and there was only so much patience a girl could have.
“Well, it’s obvious ... My sheet is like half empty.”
He gave me a look and reached behind him and picked a stack of papers to rifle through. After about twenty seconds of quiet broken only by flipping papers, he finally found the one he was looking for. He perused it for a few seconds before reaching behind again to take his glasses. He mindlessly wore the thin frame, and after a while, he looked at me. “Why?”
“It’s funny, and you probably wouldn’t understand it anyway.” I hugged myself. The cotton shirt I’d worn in my half-assed attempt at seduction felt a little too thin now.
“Try me,” he said. “Are you having problems at home?”
I scoffed. “No.”
“Distracted then? Are you going through a breakup with your boyfriend or maybe a girlfriend?”
“I’m not--I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Then why?”
“I just ... well, I just thought I’d see you.”
“See me?” He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t--” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I mean, we do have a class tomorrow.”
“I know I--” I broke off, swallowing hard. Then he looked at me, really looked at me.
His widened infinitesimally.
“Oh, come on, Poppy.” He uncrossed his ankles and stood, his height a large presence in the suddenly shrinking room. “You can’t tell me things like that. It’s inappropriate and, not to mention, unethical.”
“No one has to know. It would only be between the two of us. It’s no one else’s business.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He waved my suggestion away like a pesky little fly. “I would know.”
He went over to his chair, and the leather creaked when he sat on it, like he was burdened with the sheer volume of my confession. I guess I could leave now and not make things worse, but I’ve already made it this far. At least, he wasn’t in the dark about what I wanted.
I stood there. Scowling, he went back to what he was doing before I’d so rudely interrupted with feelings. The only sound in his office was the scrawl of his red pen against paper. I wasn’t usually like this; I didn’t know what he did to me.
“You know,” I said. “I would have believed you if I didn’t see the way you look at me.”
I unbuttoned the top of my shirt, then the next, then the next, until I shrugged it off my shoulders and let it pool to the floor in a wisp. It hadn’t made a sound, but Professor Howard froze, his red pen pinned against a test sheet.
“Like you want me or not quite like that ... it’s almost like you want to consume me bit by bit.”
He swallowed.
Next went my skirt. I unhooked it and let it drop to the floor.
He lifted his gaze from his desk, but it didn’t rove all over my body. It didn’t stay on the lacy peach lingerie I’d spent hours in a store meticulously finding until I chose one. No, his eyes stayed on my face.
“Stop. Dress up and I’ll forget this night ever happened.”
I would have. Really, I would have if I didn’t see the way he was desperately clutching his pen--I was half afraid it was going to snap and leak all over that poor student’s paper.
“I could do that.” I stepped out of my skirt and kicked it to the side. “Or I could just keep going. Who knows?”
Lingerie paired with plain white chucks probably wouldn’t do anything for someone else, but I saw with the way his pupils were blown like he’d just done a line, that my body was doing something for him.
I took off my shoes, and a sharp exhale came from deep in his chest. Along with the modicum of restraint he had. His eyes fell down my body, heat coursing through me at his gaze.
He leaned back on his chair, his chest rising and falling “Don’t.” He said as I stalked towards him but I didn’t listen. When I reached him, his pants were tented like he hid a salami beneath the material. My steps faltered. Gosh, he was huge.
A soft “Oh fuck” came from his lips when I placed both knees on his chair--it was a tight fit, but I could manage--I bracketed his thighs with mine and dropped myself on his lap.
He groaned, his breaths coming out in short puffs. “We could get caught.”
It pleased me that his complaint had moved from this being improper to the possibility of our discovery.
“Shh.” I gyrated my hips down on him. The outline of his erection pressing against me, hard and pulsing. “But I really.” I rolled my hips, and his breath caught. “Really,” Roll. “Really want an A professor.” A helpless look crossed in his eyes. “And I would do anything you ask me to. Don’t you want that?”
His head fell back, the tendons on his neck standing out. “I know we shouldn’t, but fuck, Poppy, you feel so good.”
“Let me take care of you.” I said, grinding harder on his throbbing cock. “I bet I could make you feel a lot more better.”
A harsh breath tore from his throat. His hands hung uselessly by his sides, his fingers clenching and unclenching.
“For a B.” He conceded. “What would you do for a B?”
There wasn’t much to think about. “I would let you touch me. I know you’re dying to get your hands all over my body.”
His fingers twitched again.
“Your test sheet was pretty empty,” he said. “So you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”