I was sitting in my office, impatiently watching the clock, like students near the end of one of my classes. It was 4:30, and my office hours were from 3:00 to 5:00. It was near the end of the semester and the flow of students needing help had slowed to a trickle. I like to think that was because of my excellent teaching, but the reality was that everyone had other end-of-term things on their mind. Only one student had dropped so far that week. I was tempted to leave early when I heard a timid knock on my door.

“Come in,” I said.

When the door opened, Susie McCoy entered. Her knock may have been timid, but she walked in radiating confidence, from the playful smile on her lush lips to the enticing twitch of her fulsome hips as she sauntered across the room. She stopped beside my desk, not standing meekly in front of it like most students. It was well known that she tried to use her physical charms and sexuality to put teachers, the males anyway, under her control. That was Susie.

When I began teaching at Millwood Prep, a private girls’ school, I knew that as a thirty-year-old bachelor, it might be challenging to resist the charms of some of my students. For three years I had successfully managed to keep my hands, and my fantasies, in check, but my resolve was about to face its stiffest test. It looked like I was about to experience a Susie attack for myself.

She had the right tools for the job. Susie was barely five feet tall, with maybe ten excess pounds nicely distributed in all the right places. Her long strawberry-blonde hair was done up in twin pigtails, as if she had read my mind and knew I liked that look. A sprinkling of freckles across the otherwise flawless pale skin of her nose and cheeks completed her almost doll-like appearance.

“What can I do for you, Miss McCoy?” It was a rhetorical question. She was failing my class and it would take a miraculous recovery on the final exam to even salvage a ‘C’.

“I think you know, Mr. Davis,” she purred. She boldly pushed a few papers out of the way and plopped her well-rounded derriere on my desk. She was utterly confident that I wouldn’t tell her to move. She smelled like a scratch-and-sniff ad from Elle. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Isn’t there anything I can do to pass your class? Extra work ... or something?”

As she waited for my answer, she crossed her legs, letting the hem of her charcoal-gray uniform skirt slide up her legs. She had established what she probably felt was a dominant position in our relationship, but I didn’t care. I pushed my chair back, letting my eyes feast on the sight of her milky-white, fleshy thighs.

“Studying more and doing your homework might have helped, but it’s a little late for that now,” I told her, while I continued to enjoy her leg show.

“I heard sometimes you tutor students, and I was hoping there might be some ... special tutoring you could give me,” she said, using her kitten-like voice again. To make sure I understood what she meant by ‘special’, she uncrossed her legs, then recrossed them, pausing for a second to let me enjoy an ‘accidental’ glimpse of her pink satin panties.

I leaned forward and let my hand rest lightly on her pale leg, above her knee. “Miss McCoy, do you think that all you have to do is show a little skin to convince me to forgive your dismal performance this semester?”

“Oh no, sir,” she replied, as she pulled my hand further up her warm thigh. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes. If I flunk your class, my parents are threatening to send me to a public school. That would be awful.”

Whatever resistance or pang of conscience I had left quickly melted from the heat of her soft skin. I decided there wasn’t any need to be subtle anymore, not with Susie. “If you are serious, Miss McCoy, be at my house at 7 tonight. I live at 136 Maple Lane.”

“I know where you live,” she said with a skirt as she got up. “You take advantage of the free housing available to the staff who want to live on campus. Makes you easy to find.” She stood up and asked, “Aren’t you worried about your neighbors wondering why you have a student visiting at night?”

“I tutor a lot of students at home,” I told her, “so my neighbors are used to that. Just remember to bring your backpack, so at least it looks like a tutoring session.”

“All right sir, see you tonight.” She sashayed back to the door, her swaying hips drawing my attention again. “Miss McCoy,” I told her, “keep the pigtails.”

After fixing a quick dinner I jumped into the shower, then put on my usual casual clothes - sweat pants and a t-shirt. I straightened up the living room, and poured myself a glass of wine. I was trying to act relaxed and hide my excitement.

A little before seven, I opened my door and looked around. No sign of Susie. I noticed that the temperature had dropped about ten degrees, the predicted cold front was arriving as predicted. I went back inside and had a sip of wine. Impatient now, I looked out my front window and finally saw her approaching. She was wearing a long coat, with her backpack slung casually over one shoulder. She looked very much like a student ready for some tutoring.

I opened the door before she knocked. “Come in, Miss McCoy. Thanks for being prompt.”

“Didn’t want to disappoint my fav teacher,” she said, giving me a sly wink.

She put her backpack on a chair and took off her coat. Gone was the dull gray school uniform, replaced by a short skirt with red and white vertical stripes, and a tight fuzzy pink sweater. She looked like a porn movie cheerleader. “Where did you get that outfit?” I asked.

‘This is what I wore to the campus Halloween party last month. Rah-rah-ree,” she chanted, moving her arms like she was holding pom-poms. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, I do indeed, Miss McCoy ... but you knew I would, didn’t you?

“You do have a reputation, Mr. Davis. You’re kind of a...”

“Pervert?” I volunteered.

“Nah, not that bad, but you do like young girls and don’t hide it very well.”

I laughed. “Okay, not pervert, more like a normal, heterosexual male.”

“That’s fair, but you will admit you probably shouldn’t be teaching at a girls’ school,” Susie said.

For some reason, I felt I needed to defend myself to this kewpie-doll-like creature. “I think I’m a damn good teacher, Miss McCoy. The only students who have problems in my class are the ones who don’t do the work. It’s a two-way street. And you, of all students, should be glad I’m a teacher.”

She sighed, seeming to grow tired of the conversation. “So, are we just gonna stand here talking? I didn’t know how cold it was tonight when I got dressed. B-r-r-r,” she complained, wrapping her arms across her chest.

I took the hint. I sat down on my sofa and patted my lap. “Well, come on then, let’s get you warmed up.”

With a devilish smile, she settled herself down across my thighs and put her arms around my neck. “Ohh,” she purred, “warm me up, Daddy.”

“Hmm, don’t go there. That’s not one of my fantasies.”

“What are your fantasies?” she asked.

“Right now, you are.”

Through my sweatpants I could feel how cold her legs were. I grabbed a quilt from the back of the sofa and threw it over our bodies. I started rubbing the goose-bumpy flesh of her thighs, letting my hand gradually work its way up under her short cheerleader skirt. She leaned toward me, and I felt the tip of her tongue teasing the outer shell of my ear. I’ve always been a sucker for that. I felt my already semi-erect cock swelling even more toward full hardness. Since it was pressed between my body and Susie’s hip, I knew she had to feel how successful her efforts were. I turned my head slightly and our lips met. It started as an almost chaste kiss, but then her tongue began exploring my mouth like a dentist probing for cavities.

My hand moved further up between her thighs, until I discovered, not surprisingly, that my naughty student was not wearing panties. I let my fingers roam across her bare mound. Had she shaved just for me, or was she just one of those young girls who like having things smooth down there? I didn’t ask.

I slid a finger into her damp opening, and she began purring like a contented kitten. When my finger was nice and slick, I began teasing her large, protruding clit, rubbing circles around it. Susie’s sounds changed from kittenish to an almost primal, tiger-like growl. Now that she was warm enough, she kicked off the quilt. Her legs splayed apart, inviting further exploration. I pushed one slippery digit into her small vaginal opening. I knew she couldn’t possibly be a virgin, but the entrance to her love canal still had the delightful tightness of a teenage girl.

Her head lolled back, eyes closed, and she whimpered with delight. I wet a second finger in her now copious secretions, made sure it was well lubricated, then pushed it into her hot honeypot alongside my other finger. She emitted another long, low growl, and I knew for sure that I had a naturally sexual creature writhing in my lap. Her hips were rubbing against my stiff dick, and I thought maybe lap dancing might be Susie’s way of working through college. She certainly had the ass for it, large and firm.

I spun my hand around without pulling my fingers out, so I could keep on probing her wet depths while bringing my thumb into play. I used it to massage her clit. That was all it took to put her over the top. Her legs, which had been spread apart, allowing me full access, now clamped tightly around my forearm. I began moving my thumb faster, circling her most sensitive spot without quite touching it.

Her head was lying back against the arm of the sofa, eyes tightly shut, the expression on her face somewhere between agony and ecstasy. She began mumbling, as if possessed. “Yes ... more ... don’t’ stop ... goddamn, right there! Fuck me with your fingers ... yes-s-s ... oh god, oh god.” Her heels dug into the sofa cushion as she pushed her pelvis up, her pussy pulsating, as if it was trying to pull my fingers deeper inside her. Her body stiffened, then she yelped loud enough that I was afraid some of my neighbors might soon be pounding on my door, wondering if I was torturing one of my students.

As she slowly came down from her peak, she went limp and moaned softly. I left my fingers in place until I felt her post-orgasmic contractions stop. They were sopping wet when I slid them out, and the strong aroma of her secretions was impossible to ignore. Her eyes opened, and she looked at me. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that,” she said,