Pia Sluts Out For Extra Credit

He was my professor. Tenured. Married. Devout. I wore my tightest crop top to office hours — no bra. My essay was late, but my intentions weren’t.

I slid into the seat across from him, slowly uncrossing my legs. His eyes dropped. His breath hitched.

“Sir… I’m failing,” I said softly. “Isn’t there anything I can do… for a little extra credit?”

I closed the door. Sat on the edge of his desk. Picked up his red pen and wrote an A+ on my thigh. He stared like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to see.

I leaned forward, tugging on his tie just enough to make him nervous. “Still planning to fail me?” I whispered.

Let’s just say, I gave him plenty to reconsider.

Next class, I sat in the front row. No distractions — except me. Every time he looked up, I gave him a little smile… and maybe a little more leg than necessary.