I have been a professor for a number of years now, and that means I get to set exams. My students are mostly undergraduates, average age about 20, with fifty-fifty when it comes to male and female.

      Each year, there are always a few lookers who get most of what they want because of how they look, but the one place they don't have any power is in my classes. This story is about one of these have everything easy female students. She's blonde, slender and very sexy. Her name is Amber.

      Here we are at the end of a semester and the finals are in progress for one of my classes, one that Amber happens to be in. Today, she's wearing faded jeans held up by a white belt, and a thick pale-blue sweater, a bit scruffy but still plenty cute.

      As the students worked on their exam problems, I wandered around the room from time to time just to make sure nobody was cheating. I couldn't believe my eyes when I came up behind Amber, unnoticed by her, and found her glancing at a sheet that was obviously hidden under her worksheet most of the time. I recognized some of what was on it. It was very clearly a cheat sheet.

      I immediately took her exam paper, and the cheat sheet for evidence, and whispered to her that she would get a zero grade for the whole semester, and might even get expelled after I reported what she had been doing to the Dean's office. I told her to leave. Her face, normally pretty in an aloof sort of way, drained of color as she got up and left the room.

      The 2-hour exam still had more than an hour to go, and I noticed as I patrolled around that several of the female students were sitting with one foot tucked under their thighs. It was often a sign that they were distracted by a full bladder problem. They never seemed to learn that drinking liquids before an exam is a really bad idea.

      I had hopes that at least one of them would get desperate enough to ask me if she could visit the restroom. I would refuse of course, in fairness to the other students. Can't risk any cheating, I would say, and then try to hide my glee at telling them they would have to wait.

      Over the years, they have been a few occasions when a female student could not last the course and ran from the room at the end of the exam with a wet patch on her jeans. I always hoped for a situation where there would be a complete flood from sheer desperation, but it never happened. It didn't happen on this occasion either, although the girls that had looked uncomfortable left in a hurry. I sighed inwardly and resigned myself to another failed opportunity. I collected up all the exam papers as the students left the room, and carried them back to my office, planning to lock them up and then go out for lunch. I needed a break.

      As I left the building, I spotted Amber standing on the roadside near a clump of firs, waiting, I assumed, for one of her many boyfriends. I stole a surreptitious look at her out of the corner of my eyes as I approached, noting that she was standing with her arms folded and one knee slightly bent. It crossed my mind that she might need to pee, but I didn't dwell on the possibility. That would only lead to an embarrassing lump in my pants.

      I was surprised to hear a voice saying, "Dr. Frasier?" Looking round, I discovered that Amber was following me. I stopped and waited as she approached me. "Dr. Frasier," she repeated as she drew close, and I caught the tremble in her voice. What was that all about? Was she worried about what would happen to her now that she had been caught cheating? Or was it just the strain of dealing with a full bladder. Again, I pushed the thought away. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

      "Yes, all right," I agreed, "but make it quick. I'm on my way out for lunch."

      "Oh," she said, her expression one of disappointment. "I...I want to apologize for...?"

      "Cheating?" I finished for her. "It's a bit late for that, I'm afraid, Amber. I have to report the matter."

      "Please don't," she implored, quickly lifting her eyes to meet mine.

      I should have just told her to go away and live with the consequences of her actions. I almost did, and then she did something that made my hold my tongue. She crossed her legs. It wasn't much of an indication, but still, the possibility was certainly there.

      I made myself concentrate on what I had to say. "In fairness to the other students, I can't let you off, and I can't grade your paper. I'm sorry."

      "There must be some way,' she pleaded again. "Can't I sit another exam? You have a back-up, right? In case some one is ill and can't sit them exam with everyone else?"

      "Yes," I admitted. "But give me one good reason why I should allow you to sit it, after cheating on the first one?" She didn't answer, so I continued, "For that matter, why should I give up two more hours of my time to invigilate it? I'm sorry, Amber, but I won't tolerate cheating, from you or anyone else."

      That was when she started crying. It was heart-rending to watch, but at the same time I suspected it was a mechanism she had used it many times to get what she wanted. I decided to harden my heart, and said, "I'm sorry. There really is nothing I can do."

      I started to walk away, but she called after me. "Dr. Frasier. I stopped and she came to stand in front of me again.

      "If I fail this year, my dad will kill me," she said.

      "You should have thought about that before you cheated on the exam."

      "I...I was afraid I would fail, and I didn't want to disappoint him."

      "Really. Well, he's going to be mighty disappointed now."

      "Oh please, Dr. Frasier. Isn't there anything I can do?"

      "I don't see what," I said, trying to ignore the vision of her on her knees and giving me a blow job. I noticed her cross her legs again. Surely that meant she needed to pee.

      "Please let me sit the exam again," she pleaded. "Please."

      I hesitated, giving the appearance of considering this, and while she waited for me to speak again, she uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way.

      "Well, I should just say no," I began, gratified by her look of disappointment, "because it affects the integrity of this school, and isn't fair to the other students who play by the rules." I let her mull this over, then after a suitable pause, I said, "However, since your performance has been satisfactory during your time here, until now that is, I will make an exception."

      "Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you." she said, showing signs of starting the gabble.

      "But," I continued, "I'm not having you conversing with the other students before you sit it since most of the questions on it are similar to the ones on the first paper. So, if you want to sit this backup exam and have any chance of earning an honest grade this semester, you'll have to sit it now."

      "Right now?" she said, seemingly surprised.

      "Right now," I confirmed.

      "But, I need time to revise," she started to make excuses.

      "Sorry. You should have revised for the first one, and if you did you should do fine on this one." I glanced at my watch. "You can sit the paper at the spare desk in my office while I get on with some work. I can't waste another two hours in the classroom today."

      "Okay," she agreed meekly, clearly seeing that I meant business.

      "Right, come on then," I said, and turned back towards the college entrance with her hurrying along to keep up.

      A few minutes later, we were in my office and she was seated at the desk I sometimes used for spreading out papers when mine was overflowing. I retrieved the backup paper from my filing cabinet and laid it before her, along with a calculator, two pens and some spare sheets of paper. I consulted my watch again. "It's twelve twenty. You can start now."

      "Oh," she began uncertainly. "I wondered if I could--?"

      "Time's wasting," I said, interrupting her, afraid that she was going to ask to visit the bathroom before she got started. She might well have asked had I not been scowling at her at that moment. I wasn't actually mad with her, but she obviously couldn't tell that and evidently decided she had better not piss me off any more than she had already. If she really did have an uncomfortable bladder, two hours was a nice long time for me to sit and surreptitiously observe her. I was pretty sure by now that this was one invigilation I was actually going to enjoy.

      Amber busied herself with the exam paper while I read and answered e-mails, filled in attendance records, all the usual stuff a professor has to do on a daily basis. I looked over at her from time to time, ostensibly to make sure she was working and didn't have any papers to help her this time, but in reality to see what she was doing with her legs. Each time I looked, I found them crossed, the elevated foot swinging back and forward.

      This went on for maybe forty minutes until, glancing over at Amber again, I found her watching me with a pained expression on her face. I was also aware that she now had one foot tucked beneath her thighs, and guessed that she was pushing her heel against her pussy to take some of the pressure off her muscles. Ten minutes later, I found her with both feet on the floor, her knees pressed together and jiggling up and down. Things were hotting up, and I had to rearrange myself as my foreskin managed to get trapped in some pubic hair. It hurt like hell, as it always did, but I had to sort myself out discretely. Luckily, my desk did not have an open back so Amber could not see what I was doing.

      When she was more than an hour into her exam, Amber finally spoke up. "Dr. Frasier?"

      "What is it?" I answered, trying to keep my voice stern.

      "I need to go to the bathroom," she said, her voice quiet and reluctant.

      "Sorry, but you'll have to wait."

      I relished the sound of those words, hardly able to believe that I had actually spoken them.

      "It's urgent,' Amber persisted.

      "I'm sorry, but I can't let you go wandering off unsupervised. For all I know, you've got class notes hidden in there."

      "That's ridiculous," she said sharply, clearly forgetting her circumstances for a moment.

      "What did you say?" I asked, my tone positively frigid.

      "I...I'm sorry," she stammered. "It's just that...I haven't hidden any motes in the bathroom. I just need to pee.'

      "The problem is, Amber, that I can't be sure of that, and I certainly can't come in there with you, can I?" If only, I added in thought.

      "Can't the secretary take me?" she asked. She was banging her knees together now.

      I sighed as if I were truly becoming annoyed with her. "I'll find out," I said shortly, and snatched up the phone to call the departmental Secretary. I'd forgotten about this possibility, and felt disappointed that Amber's ordeal might be over in a minute. After four rings, the secretary's extension switched to the answering machine, and I realized that she was probably out at lunch. I left a message: "Miss James. Would you please come to my office when you get back from lunch. I have a student here sitting a special exam and she needs to be accompanied to the bathroom."

      I replaced the handset and shrugged at Amber, her anxious expression telling me that things were indeed serious for her. "Why will she be back?" the girl asked, crossing her legs once more, and for the first time I saw her left hand snake down between her thighs. She wasn't pressing on her crotch yet, but she clearly wasn't far away from it.

      "How should I know?" I said dismissively, as if I really didn't care.

      Amber let out a loud tremulous breath and resumed working on her paper. It was very obvious that she was having a hard time concentrating, however, and I was becoming hopeful that things were going to really develop, especially if Miss James did not return from lunch until at least two.

      By one forty-five, Amber clearly couldn't stand it any longer. She set down her pen and announced, "I can't do any more. I really have to pee."

      "Well, you can't," I reiterated.

      "You don't understand. I can't hold it in much longer."

      "You'll have to," I insisted. "I suggest you carry on with the exam. You still have another thirty five minutes."

      "I can't do any more,' she said tersely, and sat there with both hands inserted between her crossed thighs.

      I got up from my desk and went across to hers, picking up her paper and glancing through it. She hadn't answered many questions, and what she had answered were mostly wrong. "This is very poor," I pointed out. "There's no way you're going to make even a pass, let alone get a worthwhile grade."

      I knew I was ending the exam and therefore ending the girl's ordeal. There was now nothing to prevent her leaving and getting to a bathroom before disaster struck. In fact, she did stand up and take a few steps towards the door, then she stopped and turned back to face me, literally walking on the spot to keep her legs moving. "Is there...?" she began, but let the sentence tail off.

      "Is there what?" I asked, watching her gyrations and hoping she hadn't noticed the way my cock was now pressing against my pants.

      "Isn't there some way I can get a good grade?" she asked.

      For a few seconds, I couldn't believe my ears. I thought I must have misheard her. Was she actually suggesting...a sexual favor in exchange for her grade. Seeing my hesitation, she made a dismissive gesture and turned on her heels, almost running to my office door. "Wait," I called after her just as she placed her hand on the door knob. She turned and came back a step, literally hopping from foot to foot.

      "I have to go pee," she whined, her face puckered up in pain.

      "Come here," I instructed her. At first she didn't move, other than to tread the carpet some more as she bent one knee then the other. Then she came at me, her steps tiny and rapid. "Did you just ask me what I thought you did?"

      She half-answered the question. "I've got to get a good grade in your subject."

      "What do you suggest?"

      "What do you want?" she asked in return, almost running on the spot. I watched the way her breasts bounced alluringly beneath her sweater, and suddenly experienced an almost overwhelming urge to caress them.

      My body was tingling all over. I'd fantasized something like this a hundred times, probably more, but I'd never expected it to ever really happen. I was so pent up with desire that I could barely think. Amber turned and took a few rapid paces towards the desk where she had spent the last hour and half sitting, then turned sharply and marched briskly back to stand in front of me again. "I can't hold it in much longer. I really gotta pee."

      "No," I said.

      "What?" Her eyes widened in alarm. "If I don't go, I'll pee my pants."

      "No you won't."

      "But--"

      "No arguments," I cut her off. "If you want that grade, you've got to hold it until I say you can let it go."

      She opened her mouth to issue some protest or other, but then thought better of it. Instead, she let out a low, agonized moan, shaking her head so that her blonde hair swept across her shoulders. "Why are you making me hold my pee. I thought you'd want...something else."

      "I do want something else," I informed her. "I want you to get down on your knees and give me a blow job, and I want you to do it while you're holding on to a full bladder. And I do mean holding it. If you pee all over my carpet, I'll fail you."

      "Oh please, please let me use the bathroom first. I'm so desperate to go."

      I shook my head. "That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

      She hesitated for just a moment longer, then stepped forward and knelt down at my feet. As she fumbled to unzip my pants, she asked, "What grade will I get if I don't pee my pants?"

      I smiled. "A B, unless you scratch my testicles with your nails while you're sucking my cock. If you do that, you'll get an A."

      "Okay," she said, reaching into my pants and trying to find her way to my penis through my boxers.

      "Just pull my pants and boxers down," I told her, and with a quick nod of acquiescence, she complied.

      My member was as hard as rock, and yet when she started running her nails around my balls it somehow stiffened still further. The sensation was electric. I closed my eyes in anticipating of her warm, moist mouth. She made me wait for it for perhaps half a minute, no doubt having been through this routine many times before with other males and knowing how to maximize the effect. Then my cock was in her mouth, and say she slid back and forth, she made sure the tips of her teeth lightly scraped against the sensitive ring.

      I gasped and gasped and gasped as she continued to work on sucking the juices out of me. It was something no woman had done for me in a long time, and the sensation was utterly incredible. It was heightened by the knowledge that this girl sucking on my dick and scratching at my tightened balls, was doing so while kneeling before me with an incredibly full bladder, surely right on the brink of pissing in her jeans and panties. Except she didn't dare let it go, because she needed that all important grade.

      When ejaculation happened, it was quick anf fierce. Only dimly conscious of grasping Amber's hair between my fingers, I gasped and shook and almost lost my balance. Below me, the girl was whimpering as spunk shot into her mouth and down her throat. At least, I assumed that was why until the pungent smell of fresh urine assailed my nostrils. I looked down, leaning to one side to see past her head, and watched the dark patch growing rapidly down the front of her jeans. She had lost control.

      As I quietened down, I could hear the hissing sound of her pee striking her panties. It had to be coming out like water from a garden hose. She really had been desperate.

      Realizing that I still had hold of her hair, I released her and she pulled back, turning her face up towards me. There were tears in her eyes. She glanced down at her jeans -- she was still wetting herself -- then back up at me. She looked so wretched as she whispered, "I'm sorry."

      "No need," I told her. "You've got your A."

      Hearing this news, her body slumped, exhausted after its long struggle to resist the inevitable. She was utterly soaked, and I stood there for some little while just staring at her jean-clad legs. The jeans were now completely soaked, with hardly a dry patch anywhere. It really was a dream come true.