
Her Black Professor Gives Her an A

I had always been a good student in school.  Not really a genius, but smart enough that I very rarely got below a B average.  I prided myself on getting my assignments turned in on time, and being a good student.  School and studies were something that had always come natural to me.  

There is though, always that one class, which is just so tough, not even the smartest person can pass it.  It doesn't happen often, but they do come around.  Mine came around in my sophomore year of college.  And let me tell you, it was a very difficult class.  

The class was Elementary Statistics, a mathematics course required to be taken in order to get into the college of education.  Granted, mathematics has never been my strong suit.  Quite frankly, I can barely multiply 8 x 8 without a calculator.  Math was my worst subject and I hated the course with a passion.  I had hoped that I could just get away with taking College Algebra, but I found out it wasn't going to be as I had hoped.  

I enrolled in an available section, not really paying attention to the instructors of the different sections.  I figured, it didn't matter who taught it so long as I hurried up and got it over with.  The less time I had to be around anything remotely related to math, the better.  It didn't help though that I also didn't understand why I had to take it.  

The first day of classes rolled around.  I showed up, book in hand, notebook and pencil ready to go and sat in the front as is normal for me with any of my classes.  Not only can I pay better attention up front, but it helps me to see the board as well.  There were quite a few people in the class, most of them foreign and ignoring me, which didn't bother me in the slightest.  I busied myself with looking over the first chapter in the book, while we all waited for the teacher to arrive.  

He strode into the classroom two minutes after the final bell, and dropped onto the desk a book and a pad of paper.  I was awe struck the moment he walked in the door.  He had to be well over six foot tall, and probably the blackest man I had ever seen.  His muscles were bulging out of his jeans and his sweater, and he looked more like he would be better off on a football field than in front of a bunch of college students.  

His hair was as black as he was, except for a few signs of gray that I noticed, and he had a kind smile.  My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could have sworn that my breasts were heaving within the tight confines of my bra and tight blue sweater.  He looked at me first, and had I been the fainting type, I would have fainted right then.  He had to have heard my heart pounding, or if not that, then it could be because I was the only person sitting in the front row.  

It was 8 in the morning on a Tuesday, the worst possible time to have a class.  "Good morning students.  My name is Steven Rhodes, but I want you all to call me Steven.  I'm going to tell you right off, that I don't have a syllabus for you.  I don't believe in having one."  

A couple of students groaned at this, but me, I thanked my lucky stars.  No syllabus meant not having to work ahead if I didn't want to.  He continued, "I also want you to know that this isn't going to be an easy course.  Things will be a bit laid back, but we will cover this entire book this semester.  It's my job to teach it to you and it's your job to learn it.  Now then, let's get started shall we?" 

His white teeth were a beautiful contrast to his dark skin as he smiled almost wickedly at us, picked up a piece of chalk, and began his lecture, writing things on the board as he went.  It was hard to keep myself focused on taking notes, with his hard body up there, sometimes only inches away from mine.  

By the time the class was over on the first day, my panties were soaked from desire to have him, and my brain was fried from having to work so hard to pay attention rather than daydream.  That evening I sat at my desk in my room working on the assignment he had given us.  It was very difficult and covered the first two chapters.  In between working problems though, I found my mind wandering back to thoughts of Steven.  God he was one hunk of a man.  He probably had to be in his late forties, but damn he looked good.  

The semester was passing slowly, and I found the assignments to be getting increasingly difficult.  I got myself a tutor, but she didn't help me at all.  I tried a different one, still with no luck.  It wasn't that I didn't understand the stuff.  I understood the concepts perfectly when they were talked about; it was putting them into use on the paper that had me all turned around.  For some reason when it came to applying the concepts to paper and real life, I just couldn't do it... and it frustrated me to no end.  

Finally I decided that maybe I should just go talk to Steven.  I'm sure he would understand.  I mean he's a person too right?  The next day we had class I dressed in my smartest looking outfit.  I had what I called my smart clothes, my casual clothes, my dress up clothes, and my sexy clothes.  I decided that "smart" would be the best way to play the game that day.  

I entered class wearing a long ankle length light blue skirt with a long slit up the left side.  The blouse I wore was white and somewhat conservative, but did show off some of the cleavage from my 48 D breasts.  I wore my matching blue heals, and a white lace bra and underwear set.  My hair was twisted up into a French twist, and my glasses set perfectly on my lightly made up face.  

Not only did I look incredibly intelligent, but I looked extremely sensual as well.  I sat through yet another lecture on something I didn't understand, taking notes and trying not to stare at Steven too much.  He was wearing black slacks and a blue dress shirt, no tie, and the top button undone.  His muscles still bulged in a way that made my body tingle with excitement at the thought of being held in those big strong arms of his.  

The bell rang for class to be dismissed, and I took my time gathering my things, having in mind to talk to him about my struggles with the course.  As I was organizing my things he called my name.  I looked up and he was half sitting on the edge of the desk watching me.  

"Ah... yes professor?" I said, not sure now if I could call him Steven like he wanted us to.  He smiled at me, those pearly whites so beautiful in his handsome face.  "I was wondering Christy, if you had a moment to come speak with me in my office.  We have things we need to discuss." 

I couldn't help it, I actually blushed a little.  "Ah... actually sir, I was wanting to talk to you about the course anyway."  "So then you have time?" he asked.  "Yes sir I do." "Great.  Get your things and let's go." 

My heart felt like it wanted to leap out of my chest.  I couldn't believe this; he actually wanted to talk to me?  At first I was excited, then I worried, followed by stressing out and lusting after him.  I was a jumble of emotions, none of which I could sort out.  I walked along side him to his office, books in hand.  

He opened the door for me and let me enter first, telling me to take a seat and make myself comfortable.  I set my books on the edge of his desk and took one of the chairs opposite his, sitting tall and straight, my legs together, and hands clasped in my lap so as to not fidget.  I think he sensed my nervousness, because when he sat down he seemed very relaxed and started right off talking to me.  

"Christy, you seem like a smart young lady.  In fact I know you are.  I've checked your academic records.  Nothing but A's and B's since even before kindergarten.  What I don't understand though is why, if you are such a wonderful student, why are you doing so horribly in my class." 

I blushed, it was true.  I wasn't doing well.  About two thirds of the assignments I handed in to him came back with D's or F's on them.  "I... well," I fiddled with my hands in my lap and looked at anything but him.  "I've never been very good at mathematics, sir.  Its... my worst subject." 

He nodded, "Have you tried to find a tutor?" he asked me.  "Yes, I went through two or three.  But none of them were able to help."  He rubbed his chin in thought and boldly I rushed ahead trying to explain, "I really am trying sir, and I understand the concepts perfectly.  Its just that... its just that I can't put them to use in the practice problems that you assign." 

That was where he interrupted me.  "I have a feeling you are right, Christy.  In class when I ask students to explain the concepts, you do very well, but when it comes to your homework, you just can't seem to do it.  Have you thought though, about going to a specialist, perhaps you have some sort of learning disorder that you don't know about?" 

"I... ah..."  Wait a minute!  Learning disorder?!  He thought I had a learning disorder?!  That made me very angry, and my green eyes blazed with fury as I looked up at him, my face clearly showing my anger.  I stood abruptly and grabbed my things. 

"Learning disorder indeed!  I have no such thing, and you have some nerve even suggesting it.  I'll report you to the dean for this."  I started angrily for the door of his office, reached out to open it, only to find his large hand wrapped tightly around my wrist.  

He looked very upset with my outburst.. and normally I would have crumpled under the idea that he was upset with me.  I was too angry and upset though to lose hold of the fury I held within me.  He loomed over me, my wrist held tightly in his large hand.  I felt so small in comparison, and against my will my body reacted accordingly.  

My nipples got so hard they hurt, and I could feel my pussy getting so very wet.  "Do you want to do well in my class Christy?" he asked me.  His voice was hard, but somehow at the same time concerned as well.  

"I do," I replied quietly, my resolve to stand up to him about the learning disorder crumbling like a perfectly baked cake crumbles to pieces when served.  He moved closer to me, so close in fact that my breasts were pressing up against his abs.  

"I can help you do well in my class Christy.  But you'll have to do everything I say, no questions asked, and you can't tell a single soul about anything I have you do."  My heart was beating so hard against my chest... I felt like I couldn't breath, he was so close.  But in a strange way it was erotic at the same time.  

I'm fairly tall for a girl, just shy of being five feet ten inches tall, and I'm used to being around men my height or shorter than me.  Occasionally there have been guys taller than me, but never anyone as tall as Steven Rhodes.  I guessed he had to be at least six feet eight inches, if not taller.  It was exciting me to no end.  I had always dreamed about being in the arms of a big strong man... like in the romance novels or in fantasy stories.  To have someone hold and protect me, like a damsel in distress.  Not that I was a damsel in distress or anything, but I had always fantasized what it would be like to be one.  

When I didn't answer him he asked me again, "Do you want to do well in my class?  I can help you, all you have to say is yes.  This is a once in a life time opportunity, and I suggest you take it." 

"I..."  I turned my head, anything to keep from looking into the deep dark brown eyes of his.  My grade point average and my grades were very important to me.  Not keeping them in good standing would not only devastate me, but the people that knew me too, along with my family.  I couldn't let my grades slip, just because of one silly class.  I had passed my other math courses, so why couldn't I pass this one too?  I turned my eyes back to his and said almost in a whisper, "What do I have to do?" 

A low guttural growl emanated from deep within his throat as I said that, and within the next instant his lips were upon mine, hard and heavy.  He was devouring my lips like a starving man, and instantly all good and common sense left me.  His large dark hands roughly caressed my already hard nipples through the fabric of my blouse, and I found myself pushing up against him, wanting his hands on me, moaning to him my pleasure.  

My books fell from my hands, thumping to the floor, forgotten for the time being.  His thick fingers made quick work of the buttons on my blouse as he greedily took my body for his own pleasure.  I didn't fight him, I couldn't.  It's a weakness I guess.  When a man kisses me in just that certain way, there is no way I can say no to him.  

My own hands eagerly worked to undo the buttons on his shirt as well, and within minutes we were both completely topless, our clothing on the floor of his office.  With one hand he reached over and locked the door, while his lips kissed and nibbled on my neck and ears, working their way down to my nipples.  The instant his tongue grazed my nipple in even the smallest way, I knew there was no going back.  I was so wet and needed Steven so badly.  I needed to feel wanted and desired, to feel sexual and protected as only a man like Steven could do.  

He pulled me over to his desk, which for a teacher was surprisingly clear.  He sat me up on it, bunching my skirt up around my waist, his hand rubbing my pussy through my panties.  I moaned in pleasure and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me.  

The contrast between my pale white skin and his dark black skin was not only amazing it was intoxicating.  He had a manly scent about him, mixed a little with cologne that smelled a lot like Old Spice.  I could see Steven's cock straining against the confines of his pants as he continued fondling and teasing my breasts and nipples.  

I reached my hands down, caressing his cock through his pants.  He groaned and whispered heatedly in my ear, "Take it out and stroke it you little white slut."  His dirty words only encouraged me and made my pussy even wetter.  I eagerly did as he said, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper.  

With care... but with a hungry desire.. I reached inside, taking his thick meat in my hand and gently pulling it out.  It was already pretty hard, but from the feel of it, it wasn't completely hard yet.  I gazed down at its dark beauty in awe.  It was the biggest cock I had ever seen.  It must have been seven inches long, and it wasn't even fully hard yet! 

As I stroked it with my hand, it grew until it was as hard as it could get.  His dark cock was at least three fingers thick and ten inches long when it was finally completely hard.  As I ogled his massive cock, something in the back of my mind asked if it would even fit inside me.  

Steven groaned his pleasure at my stroking of his cock, and leaned me back over the desk; one hand playing with my breasts while the other got his pants the rest of the way down.  Steven stopped long enough to pull my panties off before he took his cock and rubbed it along the lips of my wet pussy, teasing me and spanking my clit with his hard meat.  

I could say nothing; I was in too much pleasure to even bother to beg for it, though I would have, had he asked me to.  Slowly, he slid it in, just the head... and I squealed in pleasure at how full I suddenly felt, but with excitement at the fact that I knew there was still more to come.  

He continued working his cock into my pussy, which was really tight from having not been used in a while.  Soon it was all the way inside me, and he was stroking it in and out with long sensuous strokes.  The pleasure was intense, and never once did he neglect my eager nipples while giving my pussy the caressing it desired.  

I sat upright, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, my arms around his neck.  I nibbled on his ears, my breath warm against his skin.  He was grunting in effort as he slammed my cunt with his thick meat as hard as he could.  I could tell that the moaning I was doing into his ear was really turning him on, because every time I moaned, he went a little harder and a little faster.  

"God you're such a good little white bitch," he grunted in my ear.  "You like having my black cock fuck you hard like this... don't you slut?"  I could only mumble a weak yes.  I had already had one small orgasm, and a bigger one was approaching rather quickly.  

"I'm going to cum bitch, and I want you to tell me how much you want it.  How much your slutty little white ass wants my cum."  He slammed into me as hard as he could... over and over again.  I cried out, "Yes, oh fuck yes Steven, fill my white whorish pussy with your cum.  Give this slut your cum, you black bastard!" 

I was turning into a regular potty mouth.  But that wasn't unusual for me when doing something sexual that was completely taboo.  Not that I did that sort of thing often, but I had done a few taboo things before.  

He grunted once, thrust hard, and bellowed loudly as his cock began to squirt it's cum deep into the recesses of my pussy.  The feeling of his hot cum filling me up, sent me over the edge... and I came within seconds of his orgasm, adding my own high pitched squeal to his loud bellowing.  

Our juices mixed completely as he thrust a few last times to empty all of his sperm into me, before, breathing heavily, we held each other close, our bodies sweating and tired.  He nibbled on my ear, in a loving manner.  The way he held me was like a man protecting his woman.  It felt absolutely wonderful to be in his arms, to have his slowly softening cock still resting deep inside my pussy.  I never wanted to leave his arms or his cock again.  

"Don't think that this is all it's going to take, to bring your grade up Christy.  You have a lot of assignments you need to redo in order to get an A in my class.  I expect you to do them too, with no questions asked.  Do we understand each other?" 

I smiled and kissed him full on the lips, the fire of passion building within me again.  I pulled back long enough to say, "Of course professor.  Whatever you want." 

Then I pushed him back into his chair and sank to my knees... taking his soft wet cock in my hand, stroking it and placing it in my mouth, sucking hard and fast.  He groaned his pleasure, and his cock began to harden once again.  I was eager to get my A, and I would do anything for it.  

The semester ended a few months later, and upon receiving my report card from the dean's office I eagerly opened it up.  I read my grades slowly.  A, B, A, A, and B.  There was one grade left on the sheet, the one I had been saving for last.  My Elementary Statistics course with Steven Rhodes.  Taking a deep breath I looked at the grade next to the name of the class.  It said simply... A.

I may never be a whiz at Statistics, but I will ALWAYS remember Professor Rhodes special tutoring... with much pleasure.