For a college professor, a Friday afternoon is usually very dull but I'm going to turn that idea on its head. Screwing up will cost me my career and land me in prison. However, if everything goes according to plan I'll have the most gorgeous coed on campus begging me to fuck her before the end of the day.

Pussy is the most powerful force on earth; let no one tell you different. For fame, money, power and status a man may be willing to do many things. He still has his limits and his pride, though, especially if he's young. But if you offer him a chance to slide into the warm, tight sheath of a wet and ready cunt, any man will walk barefoot into Hell. That includes me. I'm not as reckless as some of the youth that pass through my class every year. When there are rules against pursuing the beautiful students you're supposed to be teaching, you learn important words like tenure, sexual harassment, and prison rape.

That isn't to say I haven't fucked some of my students. More than one young woman has come to me offering sexual favors for better grades and I've never been one to turn down a good deal. Men, however, can be incredibly stupid when it comes to sex and all it would take would be one student screaming to the school board, the media and all their neighbors about how one of their college professors was hitting on them. So I always let them make the offer, never asking for it outright.

This time is different. I'd like to say that my decision was unexpected and that it surprised me when I came to it. But given that I let students bribe me with sex, I don't think blackmail is too big a step down on the corruption scale. Because if I'm being honest about women and the power their vaginas have over men, then I can only be honest about men when I say that if you give them a choice between asking for pussy and taking it, a man will take a pussy for himself every time. That is what I'm getting ready to do.

The building is quiet since there are no classes there this late on a Friday, so I have no problem hearing the distinct sound of heels clicking on the tile floor. My appointment has arrived. I wait, sitting in the chair at my desk and watching the door with its frosted glass window as my pulse begins beating faster, keeping time with the steps that are growing louder by the moment. I consider ending this whole scheme before it starts, just for a second, because once the pieces are put into play no one will be able to walk away until the game is over.

Then I think about what brought me here, what I've craved for so long, what I will never get the opportunity to have if I don't go through with this and how I'll spend the rest of my life filled with regret for passing this chance up. When the footsteps stop outside my door and she knocks gently, I tell her to come in so I can see what I'm risking everything for.

Sylvia is the kind of girl who could never disappoint a man with her looks. Like Elizabeth Taylor in her glorious youth, she has glossy, raven black hair and blue eyes like sapphires. She has an hour glass figure with large breasts, slim waist and flaring hips leading down to delicious, toned legs. All of it is dressed in a smart business suit that makes her look like a secretary out of every dirty office fantasy.

In that moment, seeing her standing in my doorway, I know that if there's an opportunity to take this woman, then I'm going to do it and the consequences be damned.

"Hello, Professor. You said you wanted to see me?" She asks with a warm smile.

I smile back, genuinely pleased to see her, and I motion for her to come in. "Yes I did, Syliva. Thank you for coming. Have a seat." I say as I pull an extra chair from the corner for her to sit on.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about your latest essay that you wrote for class. It was supposed to be on an historical event in the period were reading over. However, I think your subject matter may have been a bit off topic."

"How so?" She asks, looking worried.

Before I go any further with this story, I should also mention that Sylvia is not only beautiful but brilliant. With a perfect 4.0 grade point average, being a star athlete in tennis and the track team and president of the student council, she's practically the face of our school's student population and a role model for every young woman. Sylvia isn't just a book worm who gets good grades; she's made all the right connections and has a bright future ahead of her once she graduates.

I hate to use clichés but she really is ... perfect.

"Sit down," I say "and let me read a few lines to you. Perhaps you'll see where the problem is."

I pick up her paper from my desk while she moves to the chair and takes her seat. I lock the door and press my back up against it, effectively cutting off any escape except the office window that's two stories up.

I look through the essay that I've memorized until I find the section I'm looking for, near the end.

"The thing I think about most is being pinned to his desk, beneath him, my arms held behind my back as he takes me by force. I try to resist but he's too strong and eventually he makes me not want to resist at all."

When I look up at Sylvia, her face is horrified and bright red with embarrassment and her jaw is on the floor. For a young woman who has always demonstrated a considerable poise and savoir faire, she's speechless, which is just the reaction I'd been hoping for. I cross the office to her and hand her the paper, which she takes numbly.

It's a confession, an admission of dark secrets which were written by Sylvia's own hand. How she lusted after her professor, how she fantasized about giving herself to him, about him taking her against her will. When I had found the essay thrown in among the other student's works, I was shocked and aroused by it but also suspicious. How could something like this, even if it were true, end up in my hands? I could hardly believe that she had made a mistake and turned in this instead of her history paper. Yet it was in front of me, with her name on it, and the details became more filthy and lurid with each paragraph. In the end, common sense had been no mach for libido. I decided to call her bluff, to see what her reaction would be when confronted with the evidence.

I watch her in silence for a few moments as her lips move soundlessly while she reads the words, disbelieving that what she is seeing is real. I wonder if she had truly made a mistake or if she had given it to me intentionally and was now having second thoughts as to the consequences of her actions.

"Would you care to explain, Sylvia?"

She remains silent, refusing to look at me as she rolls up the paper in her hands.

"You weren't supposed to see this." She said in a quiet voice "We ... some of the girls I'm friends with ... we wanted to share our fantasies about our favorite teachers but we were afraid of sending them through e-mail since everything that gets on the internet just stays there forever. So we printed them up and we traded them. I thought I had forgotten mine in my dorm room when I couldn't find it. I never realized..."

I move to stand over her as she sits there, still refusing to look at me. I can see a few tears running down her beautiful face as she imagines what the consequences of her secret getting out might be. If she rest of the school found out she had written something like this, it would destroy her academic career and ruin her future.

"There are a few ways we can handle this, Sylvia. I could show this writing of yours to the deans and the president. While I'm sure your previous record would be taken into consideration, ultimately revealing this would seriously harm your standing here. You might even lose your scholarships."

She looks up at me and her lovely face has gone from bright red embarrassment to bone white fear. "Please, Professor, don't do that. I've worked so hard to get where I am and I don't think I could deal with losing it all over something like this. The humiliation alone would be too much for me to take."

I nod in understanding. "There is another option that I might be willing to consider."

"Anything as long as this doesn't go public!"

Taking the essay from her, I hold it out so she can see her own confession. She only stares at the paper for a second before her eyes widen and snap to my face. I was being truthful when I said she was smart. The gears in her head turn quickly and she knows what I want. I smile at her reaction and I'm sure she doesn't see it as warm or inviting.

We look at each other in silence for a long moment. There's no sound anywhere and the tension is suffocating. She's wearing an expression that looks like disbelief but other than that I can't tell what she's thinking.

"If I do this," she says "if I do what you want, this stays our secret, right?"

"Of course. I'm not interested in ruining you, Sylvia. But I'm afraid you've handed me an opportunity that I simply can't walk away from. However, you should know that this isn't going to be a one time thing. This is your future not a bad grade on a test. What I get has to be equal to what you get.'

That dubious look on her face deepens. "How long?"

"Let's say ... until you graduate."

Her eyes widen and disbelief is replaced with swift anger, something I've never seen on her before. It makes her even more gorgeous.

"Fuck you! We're only three months into the semester! That's a year and a half!"

I shrug and toss the paper into her lap. "Then you'll have to take your chances with the deans. My way may be unpleasant, immoral and illegal but I can guarantee that your secret will be safe and you won't even have to worry about passing my class."

"Yeah and how do I know you won't hold this over my head after I graduate? How do I know you won't take pictures or videos or do something else that will give you blackmail material after I've left here?"

I shrug. "You don't. Just like you don't know if I'll send out your essay to every e-mail address on campus even if you let me fuck you. You just have to take my word for it."

She's furious, wanting to strangle me, not because I'm a bastard for blackmailing her but because I've caught her in a trap that she can't easily get out of. Submitting means she becomes my whore for the rest of her time at school. Resisting means that she has to face whatever consequences the academic community would throw at her and because she has no proof of anything we've talked about, I'll get to walk away untouched.

"God, I hate you."

"Did you really expect anything less? You fantasized about being my personal slut and now you'll get to experience it for real."

She shudders and looks down at the paper in her lap before snatching it up and tossing it across the office in frustration. Then she looks up at me, still angry be resigned to what she has to do.

"Alright. Tell me what you want."

I walk closer to her and reach down to slide the zipper of my pants open. I reach into the slit in my boxers and retrieve my cock, already half-hard and quickly growing to its full length.

"Show me how much you've fantasized about me."

There's a moments hesitation where I wonder if she's simply going to walk out. Then she grabs my cock gently, her slender hand cool against the throbbing heat and she brings it to her mouth. Her tongue comes out and begins licking the head, first the tip then both sides around the ridge. She pushes it up and let's her tongue slide down to the base then back up again.

She's looking up at me as she licks me, her mouth coming up to the tip again before she wraps her lips around it and begins to suck. She bobs her head, taking more of my cock into her mouth with each down stroke, one inch at a time. There are still a few inches left when I feel the head bump into the back of her throat. She stares up at me and I feel her mouth and throat squeezing and shifting around my dick. For a moment I think she's going to gag then suddenly she's sliding the last few inches into her mouth, her throat is squeezing my head and her face is pressed into my groin.

The feeling is incredible. It's been too long since the last time a woman put her mouth on me and this is better than any time I can remember. I've never thought of myself as an evil man but knowing that she has no choice but to service me and to my satisfaction sends a rush of power through me and it's glorious.

I grab her head before she can pull off of my cock and I hold her there. She doesn't gag, which is amazing and simply stares up at me. Her hands reach into my pants and she finds my balls, her fingers gently stroking them as she pulls them out to join my cock.

The only sound in the room is my ragged breathing as I choke her with my shaft. Amazingly, she doesn't try to push away and she doesn't choke. I can't help but wonder how many cocks she's had buried in her throat to have gotten so good at holding me like she is and suddenly I have an image in my head of her surrounded by cocks, taking each one completely, choking on them over and over until she learns to eat dick like a good bitch.

My head falls back and I moan. "You fucking whore."

Then my hands wrap tightly in her lovely hair and I pull her back and off of my cock. She gasps and I let her take a few breaths before I push myself between her lips again and begin to fuck her throat. Using her hair as a handhold, I shove in and pull out, moving my hips and her head at the same time. Each time I pull back her throat tries to close up and when I thrust in again there's a brief resistance before I force it open. The tight feeling as her throat is forced open around me is fantastic

When I look down, I can see tears running down her face as she chokes on my cock. It's impossible for her to get a breath with how fast I'm fucking her face and the effort of taking my cock again and again is forcing more tears and her mascara starts to run down her cheeks in dark lines.

All of it is better than I had ever imagined. It won't take me long to cum and every stoke in her throat makes me want to fuck harder until I explode and make her choke on my load. But I want this first time to be memorable, even if there will be plenty more to come and with a supreme effort of will I pull my cock out of her throat for the last time.