"Maybe the other students didn't see what you two did, but I saw enough," he fumed. "I don't mind a little footsie playing in my classes. It keeps the students alert. A display like yours-that means big trouble for you, me and the University.”
"We were only-we were just-”
Foster raised a hand against Spider's rush of words.
"A student tells a dean. A dean tells the president. It gets to the student newspaper, to the alumni. It's hard enough these days for universities to convince parents that colleges are not hotbeds of sex. A simple, single act like you did can result in a hundred students being jerked out of Brighton and perhaps the additional loss of thousands of dollars of gifts from angry supporters, most of whom are conservative.”
"Sir, we can plead that we were drunk,”
Foster shook his head. "No. I must take immediate and harsh action. You, Spider, are fired from the Chemistry Lab… ”
Spider gave a howl, "I need the job to stay in college, professor.”
The old man shook his head. "You'll have to carry on your education elsewhere, young man. It's a crying shame, because you're my favorite student. But I will not tolerate scandal. If you get by this time, the next time might be worse. No, you have to go.”
Spider moaned. "I'm ruined.”
The Professor took Cheryl by the arm and walked her to one wall of the office, which was covered with diplomas and certificates, just like a doctor's office.
"See all of these? That would have been Spider Strawn's future before today, young lady. You have a great part of the blame. Without you he wouldn't have been inspired to this outrageous act.”
Cheryl felt like the heel of all time. She should've known you couldn't get away with anything as raw as they'd tried. Now she'd really fixed Spider.
"But maybe nobody saw us but you," she protested. "Maybe there won't be a scandal.”
Foster shook his head. "I see you don't understand, Cheryl.”
He turned to Spider. "I want you to go out in the Lab and finish your work for the day. Your last day of work. I must explain the facts of life to Cheryl Wallace.”
Spider looked white and shaken. He shook his head sadly, squeezed her hand, and disappeared into the Lab outside. Foster closed the door. He motioned Cheryl to his chair behind his desk. She sat down trembling. It was the professor's agitation that scared her as much as anything.
"Cheryl Wallace, daughter of one of our richest, most important, alumni," he said as he paced before the desk. "Do you realize that you can be expelled for what you did in my class? Think of the shame of your father when that happens. Yet I have no choice but to report-”
"Nobody saw us, but you!" she cried. This thing got worse and worse.
He smiled sadly, shaking his head. "We don't know that. I'm not sure I want to take a chance. What bothers me more, if you get by this time, what happens next? You're a very attractive young lady. What outrage will you and Spider perpetrate next? Spider himself is a wild young man. If you're not stopped now, where will it end? Even if I survive this, you'll destroy some other professor.”
"I swear to you-" she began.
"No," he cut her off. He came around the desk and sat on the edge, facing her. "With a body like yours-and evidently you have a hot sexual nature-there's bound to be more trouble. I see no way out.”
He frowned down on her, long legs spread as she rocked in his swivel chair in misery.
"I'd sign a paper," she cried. "I'd do anything to save Spider's job. To keep it away from my father.”
"Promises for now. But tomorrow your hot little cunt will bubble again and there's more scandal on the campus.”
She shot a startled look at him.
"Look at you," he said. "Tight pants, paper thin. Stained with your dishonor. Big breasts, pushing and shoving to get out of that sweater. I could see your nipples a block away.”
"I-I-" she said, astonished at the turn the conversation took.
"You're probably one of the great fucks on campus," said the old man, his eyes gleaming. "Come here, dear.”
He hooked the base of the swivel chair and brought her to where he sat on the edge of the desk, facing her. Her head was on a level with his crotch.
"I could risk forgetting what happened in my class," he said. "I have the power to make a report or not make a report. It's up to you to convince me to take that approach.”
She sat there, stunned, the blood drumming past her ears.
"You mean, if I-if somehow-”
He looked down on her avidly, "Your hot little body got you into trouble. Your sexy little person can also get you out of trouble.”
"And save Spider's job?" she squeaked, lifting her eyes to his face. It was flushed. Also there was no question about the rising lump in the old man's pants as he stared down at her.
"What-do you want?" she asked faintly, licking her lips.
He shook his head. "It's not what I want," he said. "It's what you want, Cheryl. I'm not going to stand for a young couple having sex in my class and do nothing. I'll make that report. Of course, if you find a way to get around it, perhaps by insisting on compromising me, too-well, you're very attractive, and even old men are not made of stone." For the first time he smiled. His eyes were hot.
It was extremely silent in the room. She sat there, inches from his person and his crotch, trapped in misery. Spider's job, everything-if she decided to gig this obscene old man. Incredible.
"You don't mean it," she said.
"Leave, walk out of here and see if I mean it," said Foster. "Before eight o'clock you'll be on the Dean's carpet, emergency summons.”
“If I do something-”
“Talk, talk, talk," he exploded.
She jumped at the imperious tone. She fumbled at his zipper, prying it open. She reached inside past his boxer shorts and found his treasure. She pulled it out of his pants as he sat facing her perched on the edge of the desk. His prick was smaller than Spider's, nested in gray pubic hairs. It was already half hard. She slid it into her mouth and sucked and the meat stiffened at once.
"Oh, child, that feels so good!" he exulted, holding her head and working his loins. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, she thought, as she gently squeezed his balls and started to service him without much enthusiasm. The quick change of events left her confused.
"I want Spider to keep his job," she said firmly, finally tracking. "I want no report made.”
"Well, now, all things are possible when everybody co-eeeee-ahhh-cooperates, Ch-Cheryl." His cock was hard now and he scooted it in and out of her mouth with expert little bunts.
Great heavens, stodgy old Brighton U. turns out to be Fuck College, she thought in a randy, rising excitement. Imagine her shoving her mouth down on a major college professor, a man with a national reputation, as Spider told her. Well, his prick had a nice male smell and the skin tasted like slightly salty meat, just like any other prick. Still vaguely hot from the workout in his classroom, she found she didn't mind too much. He was a mean old buzzard and would probably do what he said, fire Spider and turn her in if she didn't cooperate.
Then she had another thought. This old boy had a wife, fairly famous in Brighton circles. Mrs. Richardson Foster-Lisbeth Torbert Foster, a heavy chick in alumni circles. She'd seen the name and even her picture in some of her father's alumni newspapers back in New York. My God, the cock she sucked was supposed to be the private property of Lisbeth Foster's cunt. Holy mud, I'm randy and vile-mouthed today, she thought. But the idea of stealing semen from what she knew was a pompous old bitch excited her. Imagine, a famous prof and a big shot wife, and he was going off in the mouth of a simple coed.
She had his prick nice and juicy so she began to nub the head where the rich nerves were.
"Yeee-esss. Abso-loot-ly bestial." he cried, working against her mouth.
Somehow he'd managed to get his hands inside of her sweater to cup her tits, and they were super-hot to his touch. She shuddered and sucked harder. After the delicious workout Spider had given her she was high and hot and would probably cum if he kept up those luscious motions on her nipples.