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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Making the Grade
by Peter_Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)

***

Just a matter of teaching the right class! (Mf, ped, 
1st, mast)

***

Young Cassandra looked with some satisfaction at the 
paper handed back to her. An "A" was inscribed there in 
red marker, followed somewhat enigmatically she 
thought, by "Please see me after class." Idly she 
flipped through the essay, revelling in the little 
compliments written in the margin. "Great use of 
metaphor," was one, "Excellent ironic overtone," 
another. Never mind that she had never intended a 
metaphor, let alone an ironic overtone, she pondered. 
If Mr. Jamieson had seen them, all the better for her. 

No, It was the hastily scribbled footnote, that had her 
curious. Maybe he wanted to save her paper as an 
example for next year's class? Shrugging, she packed up 
the rest of her belongings with everyone else, letting 
the happy if not eclectic Friday chatter swirl around 
her. 

Finally the bell rang and there was a frantic rush for 
the door. Cassandra longed to join her friends but she 
could hardly overlook the directive from her teacher. 
So instead she sat at her desk and watched him sort 
through some notes. His eyebrows arched in 
concentration, furrowing his broad forehead; he blew a 
lock of unruly brown hair out of his eyes from time to 
time. He wasn't she decided, an unattractive man!

Just as Cassandra was starting to believe he'd 
forgotten his note, he looked up and focused his 
attention on her. 

"Miss Peters, please come here." Surprised by the 
sternness in his voice, Cassandra walked up to his 
desk. His looked at her solemnly. 

"Honestly Miss Peters, I don't know what to do with 
you. You haven't attended seven classes this semester, 
and the absences aren't excused. I have to say that 
yes, you have turned in every assignment and to be 
honest, blown me away with your writing skills. 
However, with the end of the semester approaching I 
must warn you that you have only a C-minus in this 
class. Attendance I'm afraid, is unavoidably twenty 
percent of the grade." 

Cassandra gaped at him. "A C-MINUS? But Mr. Peters, my 
parents expect me to get into Princeton... I MUST have 
an A." 

Mr. Peters sighed, "I don't know what you want me to 
say Cassandra. Did you really expect to pass this class 
with flying colors based on your essays alone?" 

Cassandra bit her lip and stared at the floor. Yes, she 
had hoped that might be the case, she realised. The 
reality was just too much for her and she began to cry. 

"It wasn't my fault Mr. Jamieson," she sobbed, "Mom had 
to spend a lot of time in hospital after the auto 
accident and I just needed to stay at home to help out. 
Dad doesn't get back till real late and I had to do the 
cooking....everything." Backing up to the nearest desk 
she slumped forlornly in the wooden chair. "You CAN'T 
give me a C-Minus... please!!"

He looked at her compassionately.

"They're not my rules Cassandra," he responded slowly. 
"They are set down by the educational bodies and 
however much I wish I could change them for you, I 
can't! I know about the accident, I know you've had it 
really tough at home for quite a while, but you simply 
never brought in those signed absentee notes I asked 
you for. You really have left me no choice here."

Silent tears running freely now down her pretty face 
she looked across at him. Even with full attendance and 
three more straight "A's", the best she could hope for 
come end of semester was a B plus. It wasn't enough. 
Crying wasn't going to address the situation she 
realised. When 'you're desperate' she reasoned, you use 
whatever tools are available. 

"Won't you please reconsider Mr. Jamieson," she asked 
softly "I'll do anything - absolutely anything you 
want."

The balance of power was definitely shifting. This was 
a situation completely outside the thirty-five year old 
teacher's experience. Even as he responded, the 
uncertainty in his voice was evident.

"Are you meaning what I think you're meaning 
Cassandra?" he all but stuttered.

She just stared hard at the desktop. "I have to get an 
"A" in English Mr. Jamieson, don't you understand that? 
I have to"

He looked at her with a kaleidoscope of emotions 
running unchecked through his grey matter. Despite the 
fact he was a decent man with a strong moral fiber, the 
truth was he now realised, that Cassandra appealed to 
him over and above that which might be considered 
appropriate in any teacher-student relationship. Whilst 
he had never actually gotten to the stage of 
contemplating any sort of marital infidelity in the 
past, he had to admit that on more than one occasion, 
the sight of this particular student's curvy little 
bottom exiting the classroom, had imprinted itself on 
his subconscious.

"I don't think that is really what you want Miss 
Peters," he announced with little assurance, realising 
even as he spoke, that the statement made no reference 
to any reticence from his own standpoint. If any 
retreat had been planned - no one had mentioned it to 
the cavalry!

The girl stood up and was staring at her teacher with a 
mixture of embarrassment and trepidation.

"We could both be dismissed, you know?" he muttered. 
She nodded but took no backward step. The prominent 
blush in her cheeks he found most attractive.

"Think maybe I had better take some precautions," he 
added nervously, intentionally avoiding all eye contact 
as he walked past her, to the far end of the room, 
whereupon he turned the key in the lock.

Having regained the relative security of his own desk, 
he sat in the chair and motioned to Cassandra to step 
forward. Hands at her sides, she approached him. 

Observing the girl more with studious appraisal than 
any lustful intent, he took in her slim figure, pretty 
rather than overt breasts, beautiful facial features 
that at just eighteen now, had blossomed to technical 
adulthood. She looked considerably younger he mused. 
Patting his knee, he extended an arm towards her.

Sensing his own extreme lack of confidence under the 
circumstances, she allowed herself to be drawn down on 
to his lap, where the playing field was anything but 
level, she couldn't help but notice. As her flush 
deepened and he in turn became aware of the reason for 
such, he decided that time was of the essence. 
Galvanised into action by a combination of her youthful 
femininity and the sensation of so sexy a little bottom 
atop his crotch, he allowed himself the luxury of 
slipping an arm around her waist. 

He felt her tense-up but figuring this was no time to 
be indecisive, slipped his hand upwards and enclosing 
the girl's entire right breast, squeezed the softness 
within. Letting out a shocked gasp she instinctively 
pulled his hand away.

"I think the words you used were 'I'll do absolutely 
ANYTHING you want' were they not Cassandra?" 

"I'm sorry.....nerves I guess Mr. Jamieson," she 
muttered "I've never done anything like this before." 
She allowed him to restore contact with her breast and 
even as he began to grope her gently she felt the 
adrenaline kick-in. The feeling wasn't wholly 
unpleasant she had to admit.

"Are you still a virgin then m'dear?" he asked 
tremulously, the sensation of squeezing this particular 
teenage student's hot little breasts rendering him 
positively light-headed

"Uh huh!" she replied, her eyes watching as both his 
hands now felt her up with a growing confidence. 
Whatever that physiological reaction was manifesting 
itself between her legs, it was nothing she could 
classify as a hardship.

"You are such a pretty girl Cassandra," he whispered, 
"I'm not hurting you doing this, am I?" 

"No Mr. Jamieson, it's OK," she replied.

"Oh and you needn't refer to me as 'Mr. Jamieson' any 
more either," he smiled at her. "Hardly appropriate 
under the circumstances is it?" he added. "Just call me 
Craig."

For a moment or two silence reigned as he continued 
fondling the girl's breasts increasingly aware of her 
unforced arousal, courtesy of those delightfully 
hardening nipples that her thin blouse was doing less 
than nothing to shield from his finger exploratory.

"May I kiss you?" he asked her suddenly.

Simply the bizarre attending circumstances - a young 
female student being sexually assaulted on the knee of 
a way older teacher and he asks her for a kiss? - made 
her involuntarily giggle. The humor of the moment was 
cut short however as their lips met. 

Kissing though not unfamiliar to the girl, had been 
limited to a few close friends of her own age - girls 
and boys if the truth be known. Never though had she 
experienced such familiarity with a man in his thirties 
and thus despite both the age-difference and the 
inappropriate scholastic connections, she had to admit 
this was a step-up in class.

From Craig's viewpoint, this surely was the epitome of 
every male fantasy. Groping unrestrictedly a sexy 
teenage girl while kissing her hard on the lips, even 
as her bottom continued playing havoc with his 
procreative equipment-in-waiting....they don't write 
better screenplays!

Beginning now to undo the top few buttons of her 
blouse, she gasped softly as he exposed her low-cut bra 
and dynamically arousing cleavage, a frilly little 
number, more concerned with fashion than support one 
assumes, it was the work of but a moment to slip his 
fingers inside her left cup. She gave a little gasp as 
they brushed across her engorged nipple and was fully 
unable to prevent a blush from coloring her cheeks. 

He wasn't looking at her cheeks though and using either 
hand now, began manipulating both nipples which 
achieved two things. Her bra was of course worked low 
enough that both breasts were almost fully exposed to 
his vitally interested gaze and her fine dark nipples 
became even more distended as his fingers worked their 
dexterous magic.

As for Cassandra she could hardly believe she was 
sitting willingly on a man's lap, pretty much topless, 
allowing herself to be molested at will. Of greater 
concern, her body seemed in no hurry to be sending out 
May Day calls. If she didn't know better it was 
relishing this newly come-by learning curve.

"May as well take these off," he murmured to no-one in 
particular, as he undid the rest of the buttons before 
peeling off her blouse and tossing it on his desk. Even 
as he unhooked her bra and began pulling the straps 
down her arms Cassandra just sat there, justifiably 
proud of her firm young breasts that freed now of their 
social constraints drew an appreciative if not limited 
audience. 

Inclining his head, he had barely even closed the gap 
between lip and nipple when she pushed him back firmly. 
"Noo, you can't do that.....Craig," she admonished.

"Oh I think I CAN Cass," he smiled, "You're not even 
close to a C plus yet!"

Reluctantly she withdrew her arm and sat there rather 
prettily he observed - an obedient fourth grader, 
waiting for permission to read aloud her essay.

As he first kissed her breast before teasing the nipple 
with his tongue, she let out a small whimper, beginning 
to wriggle on his lap in embarrassment. Craig however 
was far from embarrassed and as the texture of her 
nipple combined with the vaguely milky smell of the 
breast itself, wholly absorbed his concentration, he 
began to draw down on her teat completely transported 
by the combination of recalled childhood comfort and 
the sexual arousal such an act unavoidably generated.

For her part, Cassandra found herself in a whole new 
ball-park - one where adults played quite obviously. 
Unaware she was letting out small gasps of pleasure, 
she held his head against her breasts as he suckled her 
first one side then the other. The harder he drew down, 
the stronger the communications being exchanged with 
vaginal HQ. As the messages grew more urgent she could 
not avoid slipping a hand onto her lap and depressing 
an area of her skirt that in other circumstances might 
be described as 'interesting,'

Fondling that which he wasn't already sucking, Craig 
was a man on a mission. No girl should be this sexy he 
decided. Wondering just how he could ever face up to 
her again in class he was suddenly distracted by the 
proximity of the girl's hand in her own lap. On little 
more than auto-pilot, he slipped his hand up beneath 
her skirt - she was after all sitting almost side-
saddle. 

This most assuredly brought a reaction.

"Nooo, not up THERE...please!" Her sharp intake of 
breath, shocked expression and rapid closure of her 
legs might in other circumstances have acted as some 
deterrent, but when a man has just about blown his wad 
sucking a girl's bare breasts while she wriggles sexily 
on his knee, you really can't expect a total withdrawal 
of all active troops. Besides there was unfortunately 
for Cassandra, an unfulfilled contract to see out, and 
of which she was quickly reminded.

"If a B Minus is enough for you m'dear, we'll call it a 
day then," he smirked at her. "Your choice sweetheart!"

Even as her legs parted, at least to the extent that 
her tight little skirt would permit, a delicate frown 
flitted across her face. "You really shouldn't be doing 
this Craig," she muttered. "I only meant for you to 
have a feel."

"Well that's all I'm doing Cassandra," he grinned, 
insinuating his hand well up between her thighs where 
the heat was - if not volcanic....a tad on the warm 
side. The blush returned and with now the twin 
pleasures of seeing the young girl's breasts jiggling 
each time she wriggled her hips, as well as the hem of 
her skirt riding high up her legs, he was made even 
more aware of his pained erection that was struggling 
for survival in that land-locked cavity beneath her 
bottom. That she must have been aware of the caged 
serpent on hand could not be in doubt.

In fact Cassandra was cognizant of Craig's little 
problem and despite herself, the imminent presence of 
so sexual a threat was only adding to her own 
escalating arousal.

His hands reached the front of her panties.....sexy 
little white cotton briefs that already were peeking 
out beneath her indecently rumpled skirt. Adding to the 
visual delights one couldn't help but notice, the 
contrast between the soft white skin of her thighs and 
the roll tops of those fishnet leggings she had 
selected to wear that morning. At the point he began 
rubbing her intimately, both were locked in to their 
respective countdowns even if they didn't yet know it.

"God Cassandra, that feels so sexy," he whispered to 
the young girl as she struggled emotionally to deal 
with what was being perpetrated upon her hitherto 
unchallenged innocence. Trying to balance the reality 
of having to allow her teacher unrestricted sexual 
access with the knowledge that such was inherently 
wrong was inhibiting her thought processes. Added to 
this was the realization that her body was taking 
extreme pleasure from his caresses and tactile 
indulgencies.

As he began to kiss her she felt all resistance 
crumbling and was even unaware she had spread her legs 
wider to accommodate his aggravated up-skirt therapy. 

He could feel the dampness through the thin material 
and rubbing her now the full depth of her vaginal 
ingress she was freely moaning and encouraging further 
interplay. Slipping a finger up beneath the leg of her 
panties he located the clitoral hood with little 
difficulty and set up a vibratory assault there which 
ultimately would be taking no prisoners he knew.

Completely adrift from any world she had ever known, 
the girl was emitting small cries of pleasure now as 
the pressure built to intolerable levels. "Don't stop, 
don't stop," she pleaded even as he fingered her to the 
edge of reason. 

Using two fingers, he could feel how engorged she was 
and how taut her young pussy had become under his 
relentless digital massage. The moisture on site was 
simply the icing on the cake - proof indeed that you 
really can't beat the hands-on approach.

Limited in dialog to "Ohhhh" Cassandra was suddenly 
lost in the perfect storm. As the shock waves eddied 
out in concentric circles, causing her hips and bottom 
to wriggle, her nipples to tingle and her pussy to bear 
the brunt of the ensuing seismic rift, she didn't even 
hear herself cry out with pleasured release.

Craig did....he was even privy to the onset of some 
pre-cum now overflowing rather pointlessly beneath the 
young girl's sexy little posterior.

Unable to bear further stimulation temporarily, she 
pulled his hand out of her panties.

"That was soo incredible," she volunteered. She made as 
if to disengage herself from his lap.

"And where do you think you're off to young lady?" he 
asked her.

"Just going to put my bra and top back on," she 
replied.

"I think not Cass," he said, taking a hold of her arm. 
"What you can do though is take that hot little skirt 
off now...always had a hankering to see a girl your age 
running around my classroom in just her panties."

"That's disgusting Mr. Jamieson," she gasped.

"Oh, Its back to 'Mr. Jamieson' now is it?' he chided 
her. "Well no matter I suppose....makes it sound even 
sexier. Naughty student misbehaving and all."

"I'm not gonna parade around here in just my panties?" 
she announced defiantly. "That's totally off!"

He smiled at her, "Well, speaking of things being "off" 
sweetheart, although you definitely made B Plus with 
that last little performance, you are still adrift from 
any Princeton ranking I'm afraid, so I guess you're 
just gonna have to do what your teacher tells you. It's 
that or you take the B Plus. 

Aware she was trapped and without any aces left to 
play, she sighed and then simply unhooking the small 
clasp, she ran the zipper down and let the skirt fall 
to the floor. The now fully awesome aspect of probably 
the grade's prettiest student, stranded mid classroom 
solely in her leggings and a pair of white panties 
close to three sizes too small for her, almost robbed 
Craig Jamieson of his remaining sanity.

Trying to cover up both nipples and her rather 
pronounced camel toe was a task and a half. It merely 
drew attention however to her rampant femininity. That 
isn't to say Craig wasn't taking the greatest pleasure 
in eying off the girls unwanted predicament. Had he 
stood up himself though, Cassandra might have been 
equally fascinated by proceedings, especially those 
some six inches or so beneath his belt-buckle.

Indicating that she should 'approach the bench' as it 
were, he coerced her verbally to return to the seat of 
power, taking her hand as she neared him and at the 
last moment having her turn around so he could admire 
the sculptor's work from the rear. There was much to 
admire. She flinched as he smoothed both hands down her 
cheeks taking the greatest delight in observing the 
line of that beautiful cleft as it sank from view 
beneath the waistband of her panties.- the ultimate 
event-horizon one might deduce. 

"Don't take them down please," she yelped as he tugged 
at the soft material suddenly, revealing more than half 
her naked bottom to his gaze. Patting her right cheek 
suggestively, he allowed her to pull them back up to 
hip level.

"Tell you what Cassandra," he said, still toying with 
her rear-end somewhat indecently, "I'll give you a 
choice. Either you take your panties off now in front 
of me or I let you put that skirt back on first and 
then I take them off for you?"

"If I let you do that Mr. Jamieson, can I please go 
home then?" she replied none too confidently.

"We'll have to see about that sweetheart," he answered. 
"I guess you HAVE been a good and compliant little girl 
this afternoon."

Retrieving her skirt, she had no sooner zipped it up 
when he put his arms around her waist and pulled her 
too him. Fully off balance, she fell back on his lap 
just as his hands found their way up beneath her hem 
once again and began re-familiarising themselves with 
the architectural delights between her legs.

Her eyes closed, she allowed him to molest her 
unhindered.

"Stand up for me Cass," he instructed. No sooner had 
she done so, than he took a hold of the waistband and 
with his face but inches now from her curvy little 
rear, peeled her undies past her leggings and down to 
her ankles. Obligingly she stepped out of them. 

"Does that feel sexy sweetheart?" he asked, "standing 
there in just a short skirt with no panties on?" The 
truth was - it did, but she was not about to share such 
intimate home-truths.

A full scale discussion on the subject was never even 
to reach gestation stage however, since his grip around 
her waist tightened at that moment and with the least 
exertion, he pulled her back on to his knee. She gave a 
small cry of surprise that was replaced by one of 
genuine shock. Straddling his knee as she now was, her 
parted legs revealed a hitherto uncharted actuality. 
Not only unzipped, her teacher's erection announced its 
clear intent, standing to attention there between her 
thighs, in honored tribute to the Star Spangled Banner 
quite obviously.

"No way," she cried out, you're not going to fuck me 
too are you?" She tried unsuccessfully to exit the 
playing field.

"Well Cass, I wouldn't have put it quite that 
indelicately," his arm around her waist tightened. "But 
you have latched on to the general direction of things 
here. Think of it as your "final exam" sweetheart. I'll 
be gentle." 

"Nooo...please..." she sobbed. "I'm a virgin...I could 
get pregnant."

Suddenly lost in some excruciatingly hot images that 
her words generated, he was silent for a few seconds.

"Cassandra," he responded eventually, "This isn't a 
multiple choice question I'm afraid. You want an "A" - 
you let me fuck you here and now. What's it to be? You 
needn't worry about pregnancy either, there are pills 
you know!"

Naively she hadn't even considered it might have come 
to this. Her tears were real and she regretted now ever 
embarking on such a drastic course of action. As she 
looked at her teacher's erection however, its very 
proximity was arousing to her she had to admit. Perhaps 
the concept was worse than the reality? Idly, she took 
a hold of it.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then," he whispered, 
following up with a kiss just below her right ear. She 
really smelt so young and inviting.

Not too many girls lose their virginity straddling 
their English teacher's lap butt naked, save for a 
skirt of such brief proportions. In actuality, the 
window of opportunity as it were at that angle, favors 
the uninitiated as the girl is fully able to control 
the degree of penetration simply by spreading her legs 
marginally or using her feet pretty much while 
standing, to absorb the pressure on her hymen at any 
given moment. This isn't to say it didn't hurt her. 
Although he was true to his promise, very gentle and 
respectful of her virginal state, making headway was 
slow and Cassandra was wincing in pain up to the moment 
she herself relaxed sufficiently to allow him to push 
up finally into the Promised Land.

The sensations afforded her nervous system as she felt 
him suddenly penetrate her vagina deeply, quite 
outstripped his own pleasures. She eased herself lower, 
fascinated to see his quite large erection sinking into 
her most intimate of orifices with such apparent ease. 
She could see a few spots of blood but the pain of the 
past few minutes was obliterated by what he was now 
doing to her. 

Something less than cool calm and collected himself, 
after all the illicit pleasures to be had, penetrating 
a sexy young virgin on your lap, her bottom jiggling 
inches from your face while you grope her breasts 
stupid, - never mind her being one of your students - 
does have its appeal!

Establishing eventually a rhythmic upthrust, he could 
hear Cassandra's breathing following the same line as 
his own - tortured to the point of pleasurable agony. 
Holding her hips tightly he was entering that 
wonderfully tight little chasm - one that she evidently 
kept hairless and smooth - with increased purpose. 

"You are so sexy sweetheart," he offered up in full 
praise of younger women generally. "I could....."

He never got to finish the sentence as right at that 
moment, someone called out "Fire in the hold." 

Her eyes closed in orgasmic bliss, she felt something 
hot and sticky spraying deep inside her. For a full ten 
seconds she was unable to find the "off" switch as her 
vaginal muscles refused to unclamp their prey whilst 
her hips continued their automated downward thrusting.

The post coital experience for both protagonists was 
one of pleasured respiratory re-affirmation. Their 
systems were re-set!

Slumped in his chair up alongside the blackboard, Craig 
Jamieson felt all of his thirty-five years. The last 
thing he was expecting was the young girl to turn 
around, hands provocatively sliding across her 
glistening pussy - the ultimate Cheshire Cat... on 
heat!

"I'd really like to make SURE I get a straight "A" 
Sir!"


(c) Peter_Pan 2006


Please visit "The World of Peter_Pan" website at:
http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/index.html

Available also now: "Harper Valley: A Postscript" 
http://www.lulu.com/content/402381

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 48