Extra College Credit
Those pesky deadlines.
Something nice and quick. Do tell me what you think! :P
*
His name was Jerky, and he was the one who told me about it, a bit high, I think he was, post-coital lying on a bed too small for two, and with too much smoke in for comfort.
"That guy, Becker, he totally gives you extra credit for your essay if you put out for him," the husky told me with the exaggerated seriousness of an intoxicated fur.
Myself, stick and a bit woozy myself, chuckled.
"You're fucking with me."
He swapped me with his tail.
"Thought you're the one who's doing the fucking, hah!"
He laughed too much for his own pun, and I decided to silence him by stuffing my half-hard dick into his muzzle.
*
Becker was gay, there was no mistaking it. The way he looked at the jocks rather than the hot girls (as far as I could tell, by comparing them to the magazine covers I saw at the K-mart where I worked), that was enough of a clue.
Jerky's lewd pot comment had made me curious.
I knew I was risking fluking the course. I hadn't really concentrated on Macroeconomics, I had done much more work on marketing, and it felt like my brain couldn't simply handle more. I hadn't really wanted to do stuff with Jerky, either. He was starting to get a bit old with his endless goofy surfer dude routine. And the stench.
I dropped my pencil case when we were filing out, and checked out his reaction.
That goddamn wolf was staring at my ass...and if he wasn't standing behind the lectern, I'd probably seen a boner, too. I remembered to flick my own Rottie tail, quickly, just because maybe he deserved it, being pent up after watching and smelling half of the rowing team for a long lecture on something nobody really understood.
I went to him and made puppy eyes.
"Oh, sir, do you think I could see you privately? I'd like to ask a few points about my practice essay."
The wolf in the suit and the ill-fitting tie gave me his best professional look, arranged some papers, put a pen into his shirt pocket. At least he wasn't wearing a pocket protector.
"Oh, yes, of course."
I told him that my job kept me busy, but I could come later on...like...five pm...and he said he'd be running some staff meeting, anyway, so he'd be stopping by his office. Might as well give me half an hour.
Maybe he was already so horny that the idea of spending half an hour with a smooth Rottie really got him off, even if it was just to breathe in my stench.
I went in there, prepared to act like a total slut to get what I wanted....by giving him exactly what he wanted.
"I've got your paper right here, Robert."
I pulled the chair really close to him, too close to really be polite. I made sure our legs touched, and I didn't shy from it when he pulled his away, but then accidentally put it back there...and I didn't move away.
"...so, your exposition..."
The paw holding a red pen looked like it was shaking. I wagged my tail. My heart was beating like mad, but I didn't feel sexy at all, even when I put on a breathy voice.
"...oh I know it's not very good," I let my ears droop, "I just tried but I'm so tired...oh if I had some more time..."
"...well, Robert..."
His whiskers were shaking, too. He was huffing my scent.
"...you look tired too, Professor Becker..."
I could see his Adam's apple bob. He swallowed. He'd felt my breath all over his muzzle and his whiskers.
"...you should go home to your wife..."
Like he was fucking married.
I grabbed his groin.
His knees hit the desk with a bang, clattering stuff down to the floor, like his computer mouse.
"Mister Harrison!" the wolf gasped, his glasses askew on his face.
"I'll help you relax," I told him before he had a chance to move away.
I was such a slut. I pushed the chair back, the one I'd been sitting on, then turned his own wheeled chair so that he was facing me, and I went down on my knees.
He was panting like he was having a heart attack, when I squeezed his crotch and then undid an old brown leather belt.
Zzzziiiip.
He was wearing white briefs and there was a dark stain where his cocktip was inside the taut fabric. His pouch fell over the elastic that dug tight onto his belly.
I wasn't gonna fool around with him. I pulled his cock out of those ridiculous man-briefs and put my muzzle around it.
Hmmm...he tasted a bit funky, but he tasted like cock, and dog, and his knot was big and swollen soon throbbed against my lips.
I swallowed a couple of times and began to bob my head up and down on the shaft.
He was pretty well hung, for a college professor, I guess, though I hadn't seen a league table, or sampled others.
Yet.
His tail made noises. He made noises. He grabbed the armrests of the chair and the creaked.
He bucked his hips once and unleashed a massive load into my gullet.
I fucking almost chocked on Professor Becker's load, and some of it I coughed over my chin and his groin.
Then he goddamn apologized, and offered me a paper hankie from his desk drawer, and he used one to rub his forehead that was covered in sweat, and there were stinky, sweaty spots under his suit arms too.
I licked my lips.
"Extra time?" I said hopefully.
"Well..."
I blew cold air against his plump, throbbing shaft that'd messed his shirt completely.
I could HEAR his toes curling.
"I promise to study REALLY hard...on...this topic..." I let my tongue loll out of my muzzle.
I might've scraped through his courses with barely acceptable grades, but at least I always had a week more to write my essays. Not bad for a minute of hard labor.
I didn't tell Jerky. I knew that he had extra time with not only Professor Becker but with Horowitz and Kayson, too.