PLEASE PROFESSOR I NEED AN A
A Short Story of Lesbian Romance
Nicolette Dane
Copyright © 2016 Nicolette Dane
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All romantically involved characters within this book are consenting adults over the age of 18 and are not related by blood. All rights reserved.
About The Author
Nicolette Dane landed in Chicago after studying writing in New York City. She flitted in and out of various jobs until she decided to choose herself and commit to writing full-time. Nico most enjoys writing about young sapphic love. Her stories are realistic scenarios of blossoming lesbian romance and voyeuristic tales meant to give you a bit of a peep show into the lives of sensual and complicated young women. Be sure to check out Nico’s Amazon Author Profile for more lesbian romance!
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An Excerpt From Please Professor
Sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, still nude, Kylie sipped at a cup of coffee and thumbed through a book. It was a book that Jen had written, a book of fiction about two young women, best friends, finding themselves in love with each other. Kylie flipped through the book and read random passages, trying to relate to the characters, and thinking about what it was like to have sex with another woman.
Kylie tossed the book to the bed and stood up. She wandered over to Jen’s dresser and set her coffee cup on top. Opening a drawer, Kylie found Jen’s panties and she started to look through them. She pulled out various styles, bikini cuts and boyshorts, until she found a small, simple black thong. Kylie slammed the drawer shut while holding the thong, after which she stepped into the thong and pulled it up over her hips.
Running her hands over her small chest, Kylie looked around the room with an inquisitive nature. Getting an idea, she walked over to the bedside table on the side that Jen slept on and opened the drawer. Inside she found a small purple cloth bag with a drawstring. Kylie pulled the bag out of the drawer and inspected it. She quickly untied it and opened it up. Reaching in, she removed a small stainless steel wand, a stubby little bullet-shaped vibrator.
Hopping back up onto the bed now, Kylie relaxed into the pillows and propped her legs up. She inspected the vibrator to figure out how to turn it on. Twisting it brought the device to life with a low hum of a buzz and Kylie’s eyes lit up. She was holding Jen’s vibrator, probably still coated with Jen’s dried juices, and she wore a tiny thong also belonging to Jen. While Kylie could admit what she was doing was a bit invasive, she couldn’t help but revel in the naughtiness of it.
PLEASE PROFESSOR I NEED AN A
*
KYLIE STOOD IN the hallway of the English department, hovering around the closed door to Professor Martine’s office. Her heart was racing and her nerves were getting the better of her. Her freshman year was coming to a close and she had messed up. Her final paper for Professor Martine’s class had been a debacle, a total failure, and it was going to ruin Kylie’s GPA. Worse still, her ruined GPA would mean her academic scholarship would be in jeopardy. The whole thing was just one big nightmare.
Pacing back and forth, waiting for her turn, she could only think of the disappointment her family would feel for her failure. She had worked so hard to get that scholarship, and one botched term paper could bring everything crashing down. Could she even afford to continue at school if she lost her scholarship? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had to fix this — someway, anyway, however she could.
The tall wooden door to Professor Martine’s creaked open and a young man, about Kylie’s age, sauntered out hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulder. Kylie approached him and stopped him in his tracks.
“How is she today, Tom?” asked Kylie nervously.
“Professor Martine?” said Tom. “Oh, she’s fine. She’s in a good mood.”
Kylie gave a sigh of relief.
“But she didn’t give me any options to bring up my grade,” admitted Tom. “So that’s that, I guess.” Tom shrugged and continued on, walking down the hall, leaving Kylie standing there in front of the door.
Kylie’s anxiety quickly returned. She ran her hand through her hair, and tried to blot the beads of sweat she felt accumulating on her brow.
“Kylie,” said a woman’s voice from inside the room. “You can come in now.”
Kylie took a deep breath, lifted her backpack up from off the ground, and pushed through the half-open wooden door, closing it tightly behind her.
Professor Martine’s office was open and bright, with rays of sunshine booming in from the large windows behind her desk. Two entire walls were bookshelves, crammed with Professor Martine’s personal library, and off to the far side of the room was a black leather couch.
“Come on in, Kylie,” said Professor Martine once again. “Sit down.” Behind her desk, Professor Martine sat straight with good posture. She had long dark brown hair, with styled waves tumbling down the front of her chest. Her face was framed with black glasses and she wore a casual black tee-shirt that accentuated her perky breasts beneath. For a woman in her mid-forties she was absolutely stunning, like a movie star aging gracefully, and had obviously taken good care of herself. Smiling at Kylie, she put a hand out to motion to the chair in front of her desk.
Kylie sat down, smiling timidly, and she set her backpack down by her feet.
“What can I do for you, dear?” asked Professor Martine calmly.
“Well,” started Kylie. “It’s about my grade on the final paper.”
“Mm hmm,” said Professor Martine, nodding knowingly.
“I messed up,” said Kylie. “And because of it, I may lose my academic scholarship.”
“So you just want me to change the grade?” replied Professor Martine.
“No, of course not,” said Kylie. “I want to make it better, Professor.” Kylie looked down and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “I’ll rewrite it or take another test or whatever else. I really need to keep this scholarship.”
“The semester’s over, Kylie,” said Professor Martine. “I’m submitting grades tomorrow.”
“Really?” said Kylie, fretting with herself. Her face became unduly worried and her anxiety inside was almost unbearable.
“Really, dear,” said Professor Martine.
“I’ll do anything,” said Kylie. “Is there anything that I could possibly do for you to raise my grade?” she said, looking earnestly at Professor Martine and pleading. “Please Professor, I need an A.”
Professor Martine sat there in silence for a moment, curiously looking at Kylie. She was young and lithe, typical of the 18-year-old freshman girls at the school. Kylie had dirty blonde hair, twisted up into a bun behind her head, and she wore a short blue jersey-knit skirt that landed at about mid-thigh as she sat in the chair. Up top Kylie had on a deep scoop-neck tee-shirt, partially revealing her cleavage. She was dressed casually and sweet, perfect for the budding spring season.
“Listen Kylie,” started Professor Martine. “First, call me Jen.”
“What?” said Kylie. “Jen?”
“That’s my name,” said Jen. “And that’s what you can call me.”
“Okay Jen,” said Kylie sheepishly.
“Second,” continued Jen. “This is going to get adult pretty quickly.”
“I am ready to be an adult,” said Kylie. “I can take responsibility for this.”
Jen laughed softly at Kylie’s naiveté.
“Dearest,” said Jen. “Listen. I’m willing to give you that A. But you’ve got to give me something.”
“What’s that?” said Kylie, her hands clammy.
Jen took a scrap piece of paper from her desk and picked up a pen. She started to scribble onto the paper and once finished she handed the paper to Kylie.
“That’s my phone number and address,” said Jen. “I live right off campus.”
“I don’t understand,” said Kylie.
“If you want an A,” said Jen. “You’ll come over tonight and let me do whatever I want with that sexy little body of yours.”
“Professor Martine!” exclaimed Kylie incredulously.
“Calm down, dear,” said Jen. “It’s okay. I know it’s weird. But listen,” she said, pausing and looking off slightly. “I’m a good person and I’ll treat you well. I won’t hurt you.”
Kylie felt absolutely torn. She knew she needed that A to maintain her scholarship, but Jen’s proposal made her feel anxious and scared. Looking at Jen, who was smiling comfortingly across the desk, Kylie considered that she could make this work. After all, Jen was actually quite beautiful. All the boys she talked to would make lewd comments about Jen behind her back, about how they’d love to fuck her for a grade. And now that Kylie knew Jen was a lesbian, she could have a secret laugh at all the guys’ remarks. It was so ironic that here she was in the position that all the guys wanted to be in.
“I can tell you’re uncertain,” said Jen, breaking the silence.
Kylie nodded.
“Take my information with you,” Jen continued. She looked up to the clock on the wall and then back to Kylie. “It’s noon right now. Text me by 5PM if you’re coming over tonight. Does that sound good?”
Kylie nodded once more.
“Good,” said Jen. “I really hope you do come over,” she said. “I think you and I could have a lot of fun together.”
Kylie smiled half-heartedly and stood up. She grabbed her bag from the floor and wandered out of Jen’s office, gently closing the door behind her.
*
“That’s insane,” said Sarah, pulling a clean tank top on over her head, adjusting the fabric over her breasts. “She really said that?”
“Yeah,” said Kylie, lying back in her bed with her hands behind her head. “It’s wild.”
With the year drawing to a close, Kylie and Sarah’s dorm room was sparsely decorated as most things were packed away in boxes waiting to be taken back home.
“So are you gonna do it?” said Sarah conspiratorially. “I mean, you need that A, right?”
“I don’t know,” said Kylie. “I’ve never been with a girl before.”
“I can’t imagine it’s that different than being with a guy,” said Sarah. “I mean, girls are softer and cleaner,” she said. “And you don’t have to worry about getting pregnant or anything.”
“That’s true,” Kylie said, turning to her side.
“And Professor Martine is fucking hot,” said Sarah. “Everybody talks about her. She’s gorgeous.”
“I know,” said Kylie. “She’s pretty.”
“Is it kinda wrong that she asked you to do this?” started Sarah. “Yes, it is. But…” she continued. “Is it also kinda hot? Absolutely.”
“I was scared when she first asked,” said Kylie. “But afterwards, I mean, it made me feel a little aroused.”
“See!” exclaimed Sarah. “Look, you need the A. Professor Martine is a babe. And it’s a new college experience,” Sarah said matter-of-factly. “Honestly, I think this is a no-brainer.”
“What if I suck?” said Kylie. “I’ve never even kissed a girl before.”
“You’ve kissed a boy,” said Sarah.
“It just seems different,” said Kylie.
“Okay,” said Sarah. “Get over here.” She motioned for Kylie to get up and come over to her. “Let’s practice.”
Reluctantly, Kylie stood up from her bed and ambled over toward Sarah, nervous and looking off from her friend.
“We’ve been roommates all year,” said Sarah. “We’re close. We can do this. You ready?”
As Kylie approached Sarah, Sarah reached out and grabbed for her to pull her close. Sarah wrapped her arms around Kylie’s waist and pushed her lips tenderly against Kylie’s, kissing her passionately with smacking and popping noises. At first Kylie resisted, but she soon got it into, embracing Sarah and holding her tighter, returning her kiss amorously.
The two girls stood there for a minute, relaxing into it and both felt heated up. Sarah ran her hand up Kylie’s back and her fingers through Kylie’s hair, caressing the back of her head as they made out. Kylie could feel her heart quickening and while she never thought she’d feel this way, she could feel herself getting moist between her legs as she and Sarah kissed.
Finally, Sarah pulled back just slightly and the two girls shared a couple smaller, sweet kisses. Kylie smiled blushingly and Sarah nuzzled her nose against Kylie’s.
“See,” said Sarah. “Not that bad.”
“No,” said Kylie. “You’re right.”
“Maybe we should have tried that at the beginning of the year,” said Sarah laughing.
“It could have been quite a different first year of college,” admitted Kylie, she too laughing.
“So do you think you’re going to do this?” asked Sarah, releasing Kylie from their embrace.
“I think I can do this,” said Kylie. “It could be a really good experience.”
“Right on,” said Sarah, smiling.
Kylie picked up her phone and copied the number off of the piece of paper Jen had given her. She typed into her text message app and stated, “I’m in,” hitting send and watching the text go through. Observing her phone intently for a response, she noticed a few moments later the ellipsis popping up, indicating Jen was typing back. Kylie waited impatiently, starring at the screen.
“Perfect,” said Jen’s text. “See you at 8PM.”
Kylie looked up from her phone and over to Sarah.
“It’s happening,” she said coolly. Sarah hooted and clapped, jumping up in excitement for her friend’s pending tryst.
*
Kylie stepped up to Jen’s house just before eight, standing on the front porch of the little bungalow, lit by the dim orange porch light. She wore the same thing she had earlier, but she did her hair up, giving it a few bouncy curls, and applied more defined makeup. She felt incredibly nervous, yet excited for this affair. It made her feel quite grown up and it made her feel desired.
She rang the doorbell and then she waited.
Soon the door swung open and behind it stood Jen, smiling at Kylie, and motioning for her to come in.
“Step right in, sweetie,” said Jen. Jen wore little baby blue terry cloth shorts and a black tank top, fitting her tightly around the chest and stomach. She had pert breasts hiding underneath her top, and her lack of bra was obvious as her nipples made themselves known by poking at the tensile fabric. Jen’s hair was wrapped up in a topknot, her entire look indicative of someone winding down after a day at work.
“I’m just having a glass of wine and listening to a record,” said Jen. “Make yourself at home.”
The two walked through Jen’s entryway and into her living room. Lit by only a few low lamps, the living room was very cozy with a wall of books to one side, a plush couch in the middle, and a stereo and record player the center of attention.
“No television?” asked Kylie, looking around the room.
“Nah,” said Jen. “I like to unwind to music.”
The
music playing was smooth and calm, without sounding dated or corny. It was almost jazzy, but with subtle hints of pop. Kylie kicked off her flip-flops and plopped down on the couch, Jen following behind her and sat at the other end.
“Care for a glass of wine?” asked Jen. Kylie smiled and nodded, and Jen then poured from a wine bottle into an empty glass.
“This is a very nice place, Jen,” said Kylie, looking around. “It’s really lived in and comfortable.”
“Thanks,” said Jen. “I try to keep it together.”
Kylie couldn’t help but stare at Jen’s chest, barely hidden behind her tank top. Jen was ridiculously fit for her age, with a flat stomach and defined yet dainty arm muscles.
“You’re in pretty good shape,” admitted Kylie, still looking at Jen’s body. “How do you do it?”
“Pilates,” said Jen, laughing. “It’s one of my hobbies.” Jen looked down at herself and adjusted her tank top slightly, her breasts shuffling a bit as she did this.
Kylie picked up her glass and took a sip, taking in the scenery and assaying the situation. It felt comfortable, relaxing, and although it was all a little bit weird, she didn’t feel like this could be a bad experience. The more she considered it, the more she looked forward to how the evening would unfold.
“Do you want to see my stomach?” said Jen, setting her glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I don’t like to brag,” she said teasingly. “But I do have a bit of a six-pack.”
“Sure,” said Kylie, setting her own glass down and turning her body toward Jen.
Jen grinned and slid her hands under the bottom of her tank top, easily pulling it up and off over her head. She rested there cross-legged on the couch, topless and sitting up straight. Her breasts perked out, a proportionate medium size compared to her small body, and her smooth stomach was flat but for some visible abdominal muscles peeking out.
Please Professor I Need An A: A Lesbian Romance Short Story Page 1