I know what you’re thinking.

A year ago I said I’d never be stupid enough to date a student.

And today I’m watching my fiance--fuck, I mean my girlfriend, I’ll get to that, though--walk down the aisle of her Blackwell graduation ceremony with her parents.

And she’s my former student.

The graduation ceremony gets started early in the morning, before the unforgiving Blackwell sun has a chance to make the students and professors in their caps and gowns sweat incessantly underneath their ridiculous garb.

I glance over at Eleanor and James to my right. Now known in my head as the happiest couple in Blackwell.

He’s got his hand on her thigh and has the biggest smile of anyone in the whole county as he watches his granddaughter walk down the aisle. She beams with pride too. I have no doubt this couple’s sexual activity puts these college kids to shame.

Well, except for Rose and I of course.

Dean Allison, or Meryl as I’ve started calling her since I left the school, and her husband Jerry sit on my left.

They had the most cordial divorce Blackwell’s ever seen. After Jerry’s suicidal episode, he sought out treatment. Ironically, the very community he thought would skewer him in embarrassment ended up being a rock of support for him throughout the year, and several other closeted men came out, inspired by his example.

Dean Allison ended up in Buenos Aires during the winter term, and ever since she’s been back she’s had a constant smile on her face. I haven’t asked her, but I have to assume she found whatever she was looking for while she was there. Probably just a reset.

As for me?

Shit. I’m happy as a clam. I don’t teach at the university anymore, but let’s be honest--I wasn’t cut out for academia. Churning out bullshit research paper after paper isn’t a lifestyle meant for me.

My mechanic buddy Liam got me a part time job at his shop. I started teaching MMA lessons at the gym. And I’m writing a book about the hypocrisies of elite academics. Well, Rose and I are writing it.

Fuck I love that girl. Did I mention that? As she walks down the aisle she’s confident. She takes powerful strides. I can sense it and everyone else can sense it in the audience. She’s come a long way since the beginning of her senior year. Rose credits our summer of love as the time when her confidence went through the roof. As much as I wish that were true, it was all inside her from the start.

‘Taught’ isn’t the right word for what I did with her. I just activated her potential.

We stand and clap for a brief moment after the President of the school announces her name. “Jordyn Rose Allison.”

The syllables of her name echo in the loudspeaker.

After we’re done clapping, I excuse myself, per Rose’s and my plan.

“Guys, I need to hit the bathroom,” I say to James. “Morning coffee kicking in.”

Eleanor and James chuckle, like they know exactly what I’m talking about.

I shuffle past them and the rest of the row, a devilish smirk on my face. They don’t need to know where I’m really going.

There’s an old saying in Blackwell that my own Grandpa used to recite before he passed.

What mama don’t know, don’t hurt mama.

I catch Rose’s eyes for a brief moment as she turns the aisle, diploma in hand. She bites her lower lip.

Oh, it’s on. It’s so fucking on.

I walk like I’m on a path for the campus cafeteria which houses the nearest restrooms. I walk straight through, then head to the main campus building which houses all the major offices.

See, Rose wanted a special graduation present. She wanted to do it somewhere on campus she’d never done it before.

We’ll, we’d talked about doing it in the college President’s room before, but see, there was a problem. Not even Dean Allison has the key to the President’s office, so there was no way we could steal it and break in.

However, we found a loophole:

During graduation, the President’s office is literally open. Like wide open. To the public.

Makes no sense.

It’s because they don’t think anyone’s crazy enough to do what we’re about to do.

My hard soled shoes echo on the ground of of the main building “Old Main” as it’s affectionately called by the students. Not a fucking soul is in the entire building.

I stroll right into the room.

Shit, I don’t get nervous, but this is nuts. This is the ballsiest thing I’ve ever come up with.

The graduation stage is literally thirty feet from the President’s office.

For a split second I think ‘maybe this isn’t such a good idea.’

And then Rose appears at the door with a huge fucking smile on her face, and any coherent thought I have other than pleasing her dissolves.

“The president’s office?!” she exclaims, holding out the note I gave to her this morning. She had to wait until she received her diploma to see where I was going to meet her.. “You really do have a wish to get caught, don’t you?”

“I believe you are the one who likes the rush of ‘almost’ getting caught,” I snap back.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

I pat my suit pants pocket subtly, just to know the ring is there. I don’t speak for a moment, I just take her in.

She’s beautiful. Her smile radiates warmth. Compassion. Happiness. Everything I wasn’t on the inside when I first met her. She takes off her blue graduation cap and shakes her hair out.

“Get the fuck over here, you beautiful goddamn Rose,” I growl.

She sways toward me like she’s drunk, only I know she’s not. Fuck, I feel drunk too.

Our bodies collide and smash into each other in the middle of his office. We make out furiously, like each of us has the antidote the other is looking for.

When she presses her chest against me, I notice something.

And yeah, something aside from the fact that my dick is hard as a hammer.

I pull back. “Are you wearing a bra?”

She cocks her head and smirks. “Bra? Hahah no. Not even…”

I pull her gown up and over her waist. My eyes grow wide. “You’re not even wearing a...fuck, you’ve got nothing,” I growl.

“Happy graduation to me,” she giggles.

I lead her to the president’s fucking desk.

Soon to be known as the president’s fucking desk, at least that’s what Rose and I will call it.

I pick her up and drop her on the desk, and good news, it’s the perfect fucking height.

Emphasis on the fucking.

I unzip my pants, drop them to my ankles, and my cock flops out. Rose moans a little.

I move to take my suit coat off, but Rose stops me.

“Keep it on,” she mumbles, a devilish smirk in her eye.

“That’s my dirty Rose,” I groan, my voice throaty.

She’s already soaking wet, no surprise after how well I’ve trained her this year. Although what we’ve done transcends ‘training.’ This is fucking love. And when it’s time to make love, Rose is ready to go.

With her legs pointing straight up in the air, and her gown bunched around her waist, I push inside her slowly. She expands her walls for me in no time. We lock eyes for the first few minutes as we warm each other up.

Slow sex: it’s like foreplay, except we’re fucking already.

After several minutes I can’t hold back anymore, and I plow into her with all my weight. She shrieks as my hips slap into her, and then puts her own hand over her mouth as I pound her. Her eyes roll up in the back of her head.

“Oh God Cole, I’m coming. I’m coming.”

I love the way she says my name now. I feel her walls collapse around me.

I hear a noise outside in the hallways for a minute.

It’s the stoner dude who was in my class, and who was responsible for the viral video that basically saved my ass.

He’s got a bong and some weed. Maybe he was going to to light up in the president’s office during graduation?

I wink, and give him a head motion to keep walking. His jaw is basically on the floor, but he keeps moving. I turn back to Rose, and rip her gown all the way off. I want to see her in all of her nude glory.

We are totally fucking up the President's desk. He’s gonna know someone was here.

And you know what? I don’t give a shit.

Rose wraps her legs around me. She reaches under my shirt and digs her fingernails into my sides.

I growl and fuck her harder, leaning down to nibble on her ear.

“Cole baby, wait, don’t come yet. I want to go for three.”

And her whisper fucking does it for me. I jump over the edge and there’s no coming back.

Waves of pleasure run through me as I shoot my orgasm into her.

When it’s all over, I stand up. Her juices are all over me, and vice versa. We look at each other for a moment.

I zip up my pants and buckle them, then take the ring out of my pants pocket.

Her jaw drops, and tears run down her cheeks when she realizes what I’m doing.

She jumps down off the President’s desk and pulls her gown back over her as I get down on a knee.

“Rose, you’re the love of my life and I don’t care how I met you or what rules I broke to get you. I need to make you mine forever. Will you marry me?”

She’s full on crying now. I hope to God they are tears of joy.

“Yes,” she finally croaks, after a long pause. “Of course I will marry you, you dirty damn Professor.”

THE END

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