The Student : PJM

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I'd heard the tales about an unmentioned professor in another department that was known to never fail the pretty girls, even those that were dumb as a box of rocks. The dirt was that a failing grade would disappear for a blow job; an average grade would become an A for a night with him and his wife who had a penchant for young co-eds herself, and that semester after semester young girls that were on academic probation would take his classes and suddenly find themselves with some better grades. 

I had never considered such things myself; it had been years since I'd chased tail just to get laid. I'd been married, I'd been off the market for years, but that wasn't the case any longer. Although I was currently single and had dated a few times, sleeping with my students for grade inflation wasn't in my moral fiber. 

"No promises," I said, "but let me take a look. If you get a perfect final exam I'll certainly have a reason to take extenuating circumstances into account." There wasn't anything at that point that I could promise.

I took a look at Y/n's class records; it was true what she had told me. Every quiz had a perfect score; either a zero when she didn't take it or full credit when she did. She'd missed a few homework assignments, a few quizzes, but had perfect scores on everything that she'd turned in. She even had perfect scores on three tests, but had made one major error on one of the exams, totally misunderstanding a multi-part problem which had caused her to barely miss getting an A. That one painful error combined with the missing quizzes and homework assignments were enough; if she got a perfect final exam she'd end up after an entire semester, just 7 points out of 1000 below an A. 

She pulled off the perfect final exam, which wasn't all that hard to do; any of the others could have done it if they'd put in the effort that she did. I couldn't bring myself to not give this young woman who had truly put so much effort into doing everything right, an A. I did what I said I'd never do and adjusted the scores -- just because it was the right thing to do. Since she had the high score of those that had been required to take the final exam, I adjusted her overall class score to exactly 90%, and gave the rest of the class the same percentage adjustment. It made a difference to just four students; that slight adjustment brought her up to an A, one other to a B, and two D's suddenly became passing C's. I wasn't sure it was the right thing for the D's -- they really didn't know the material - but if it was fair for Y/n, it had to be fair for the others also.

Y/n called me the day she received the report card. I recognized her number from all the previous calls I'd received. There was no response after I answered, but after I'd said "Hello, Y/n?" a second time she'd said with a quiver in her voice, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"It's not a problem, Y/n. You earned it, and I know there are some extenuating circumstances. I couldn't just give you credit without giving everyone the same, so I graded on a curve, made your grade the A line, and adjusted everyone else accordingly. It made a difference for a couple of people." I didn't have to explain, but after saying at the start of the year that I wouldn't, I felt I needed to.

She was silent for a moment. "Mr. Park" she started, using the diminutive for the term that my parents had bequeathed to me as a last name, "I pay my debts, whatever it takes."

I heard her words and again had absolutely no doubt at all as to what she was offering. This beautiful young woman, probably 5-6 years my junior was undoubtedly offering me sexual favors in payment for a supposed debt. I admit it, I found her highly attractive. I admit it, if there was any one student that I'd ever fantasized about it was her -- but I also have to hold my head up and look in the mirror every morning.

"Y/n, there is no debt. You owe me nothing. I have no doubt that you'll continue to get good grades, and someday I'll be happy to write you a letter of recommendation for anything you ever need." 

"Thank You, Mr. Park." We talked for a few moments; she told me how her daughter was doing, how she'd been filling out applications for medical school and ended up by telling me she hoped to see me the following semester, she'd already checked to see what class I'd be teaching. 

~

That had been 6 weeks earlier. Now here I was sitting on a stool of a strip bar 60 miles from the University. The girl that had offered herself to me was standing on stage, about to take her clothes off and show me and a room full of other lust filled males the body that she'd hidden so well all those days in class. It was the same well-formed body that had just once been shown to me without a baggy sweatshirt covering it, but had stretched my imagination time and again since then. 

With what she already had exposed, there was no doubt from anyone watching that it was a well formed body. The stretchy boy shorts covered her rounded bottom, and the legs that had always been hidden behind jeans, well worn -- not designer, were now bare clear down to the high heels that are de rigueur for the girls on stage. The matching stretch bra that encased her perfectly ample breasts was semi-hidden beneath a see-through chemise.

Her face that around me had previously always been make-up free was definitely no longer unadorned. The amount of makeup was not the overdone painting of the normal stripper; it was just enough to change a plainly beautiful face into one of amazingly exotic beauty. There was no doubt in my mind as to why Beom Seok had raved about this young lady; even with her clothes on (what little there was of that), she was, in a room of pretty women, the most beautiful woman in the room.

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