I should have run right out of the bar. I should have let her fuck that townie. Fuck it. You want to have a crazy night? Lose your V-card to some scumbag meth addict who has the mother of all STDs?

Go right ahead.

That’s what I should have said.

Instead, I’m sitting in my office at nine in the morning on a Saturday thinking what a crazy person I am for actually considering this.

Rose is almost seven years younger. She’s forbidden. She’s my damn student.

And every single time I think of her, my cock turns to a damn steel rod.

There’s a knock on the door.

I sit up in my chair, straighten my suit coat, and clear my throat. “Come in.”

She walks in this time looking a little less bold than she’d seemed at the bar last night. Nevertheless, she holds her head high.

“Good morning Rose,” I smirk. “Head feeling okay today?”

“Shush. I didn’t drink that much,” she snaps back.

“Tell that to those two Mojitos you drank in ten minutes flat last night,” I smirk, gesturing to the big easy chair I have in my office for students. She sits, and crosses her legs under her plaid skirt.

I lean back in my chair, fold my hands, and eat her up with my eyes. She looks like she’s faking confidence underneath all that hotness. Rose is pretty in a natural, kind sort of way. If you saw her on the street, you’d probably assume she was one of the nice girls.

That thought alone makes my cock jump a little thinking just how naughty she’s going to be with me once I open her up.

I love making the good girls go bad.

Fuck. We haven’t even laid the groundwork yet, and here I am, thinking naughty thoughts already, like she’s one of the subs who came to me back in Boston because she heard I was the best Dom in the club.

“Professor Hanks,” she drawls in that Blackwell twang, breaching the silence. “Sure, I had a drink or two last night. But my request still stands. I know you probably think I’m crazy. Especially coming to you here--like this. Maybe I am, but it’s what I want. I’ve heard your reputation. And I know these twenty-year old Blackwell boys can’t come close to showing me what you can. Teaching me what you know.”

I lean forward onto my desk. Maybe I should tell her to get the fuck out again. But I can’t. She’s too sweet for me to pass up.

“Rose. If we do this, I’ll need to video you consenting to everything, first. Got it?”

She nods.

“When I ask you a question like that, you need to say ‘yes.’ It’s all about communication.”

“Yes,” she croaks hoarsely.

“Good,” I nod. I rake a hand through my hair. “Rose, as crazy as this is, I can relate to you. I was once the small town kid who wanted out of this damn town, since everything you do falls under the microscope. I get it. You just want an outsider to teach you about sex.”

“A safe outsider,” she corrects. “But also hot. Handsome. Intelligent. I’ve had it with these cat-calling townies.”

I chuckle. “You’ve got a lot of personality, you know that? Why did you stay here anyway? You’re smart enough to go anywhere.”

She shrugs. “Free tuition?”

“Scholarship?”

“Something like that.”

“Ah, okay.” I take a deep breath. “If we do this, we don’t tell a soul. Not a single person can know. Deal?”

She makes a motion like she’s locking her mouth and throwing away the key. “And you know,” she says, “I don’t exactly want to become known only as the girl who hooked up with her professor who was teaching her Sexual Psychology class. And it’s just for two months, anyways. We can keep it a secret for sixty days. Is that long enough to teach me everything you know?”

I chuckle. “It’ll be an accelerated class, but sure.”

“I pick up material fast,” she grins.

“We start tomorrow then. Come to my place at two p.m. I’ll have some papers for you to sign. Then we’ll get started.”

“Okay.” she cooes.

I stand, walk to the coat rack in the corner of the room and grab my leather jacket, then hand it to her.

I pull out a pen and paper and scribble a note.

Tomorrow, you’ll wear the following to my house:

• four inch pumps
• lime green bra and panties
• this leather jacket

I scribble my address at the bottom. “See you for your first lesson tomorrow, Rose.”

* * *

After I run through MMA training early the next morning, I shower off and throw on jeans and a black t-shirt. I’m listening to the soft pellets of rain hit my apartment’s roof, enjoying an early afternoon Bulleit Rye while I wait for her to arrive.

Two months. The hottest girl in all of fucking Blackwell wants two months with me so I can teach her how to fuck. If two months with me will calm her itch of trying to mess with Joe fucking Schmo in the bar, it’s the least I can do. I’m a damn hero.

When I hear the knock, I put my drink down and rise out of my seat. Before I do, my conscience whispers to me one last warning. I hear echoes of what Dean Allison had said not even a week ago in the sexual harassment seminar.

But the devil on my shoulder fights back. He is strong. This is what Rose wants. This is what she agreed to. Begged for.

I open the door.

“Hi,” she smiles.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mouth.

One look into her big doe eyes melts away any last resistance I’ve been considering. I’m no hero, I’m just fucking obsessed with her. She’s got full makeup on, which she doesn’t need to look beautiful, as I saw on the first day of classes when she was wearing a hoodie, trying to hide from me. But for our first time I want to make sure she understands how to obey me.

She is dressed as I’ve instructed. She wears 4 inch pumps, the oversized leather jacket I gave her, and a Blackwell U black and yellow baseball cap.

My eyes start at her feet, traveling up the tantalizingly creamy skin of her legs until they disappear underneath the cloth of the jacket. When she takes it off, I’ll know if she was able to obey my first command.

She looks up at me and can’t help but break into a slight smile. I blink, and file this picture away in my personal archives of hottest Rose moments. Part of me wants to remember her like this--my uncorrupted Little Rose petal.

“Rose, in a month you’ll never be the same after what I’m going to do with you. Two months and you’ll be completely ruined.”

She smiles a little broader.

“Sorry, not ruined,” I add. “Taught. You’ll be taught.”

“That’s what I’m here for. For you to teach me how to fuck.” She grins.

I don’t smile back. “Eyes down,” I say.

The smile falls from her face and she looks at the ground as she steps inside and off my patio.

How she manages to walk so gracefully in those high fucking heels, I have no clue.

“Sit.” I point to an easy chair in the living room.

She sits, and crosses her legs like a good little girl. I can’t wait to make her my bad little slut.

“This is your last chance to back out,” I continue.

“I thought about it again all night. This is what I want.”

“I need to get this on video.”

I set my phone on a shelf so it’s facing her, then I press record.

“Look into the camera and state your name.”

She licks her lips and stares into it. “Jordyn Rose,” she says.

“Good. Now tell me why you’re here. Don’t spare any details.

She takes a deep breath. “I’m here because I want to learn things.”

I can’t help but crack a slight smirk. “Rose, you’ve got to be more vocal, and more specific. It’s very important for this experience that you don’t hold back. You have desires. It’s perfectly normal. Don’t be ashamed of them.”

She blushes. “I feel like you just said what I’m going to be telling my sex therapy patients some day.”

“To not be ashamed?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ashamed right now? Be honest.”

“A little.”

I step toward her. “And this is what you want me to teach you? How to not be ashamed?”

“That’s part of it.”

I don’t touch her yet.

“Tell me what you want, Rose. Look into the camera and tell me everything.”

She flashes her eyes away from me, into the digital lens. I sit down in the easy chair I’ve set up across from her. She stares, licks her lips, and begins to talk.

“Professor Hanks, I want you to teach me everything. I’ve always been scared to do something like this, but with you I’m not for some reason. You make me comfortable. I want...No, I need you to teach me everything. I want you to teach me how to give a toe curling BJ to a man. I want you to teach me how to please you. I want you to teach me how a man should go down on a girl. I want you to show me how to ride your cock. I want you to show me how a real man fucks his woman. And teach me how a real woman fucks her man.”

“Go on,” I say, smiling at her enthusiasm as I take a sip of my drink.

She turns away from the camera and looks me in the eye when she says the next words. “Cole Hanks, in the next sixty days I want you to corrupt me.” Her voice is faint now, a whisper. “I want you to dominate me in all the ways you know how.”

All of the blood in my body surges right to my cock.

“Rose, are you on any form of birth control?” I ask, needing to know the answer to this question.

“Y-yes, I am on the pill. I take it religiously every single day. I even have an alarm set on my phone to remind me to take it.”

“Good answer, Little Rose.” I continue on with my list of questions.

“What’s your yield word that you’ll use if you are getting uncomfortable? Your yellow light.”

“Hammock.”

“What’s your safe word, your red light?”

“Blackwell.”

“Good girl.” I stand up, turn off the recording, and step to her so my crotch is right at her eye level. “If you can’t answer either of those two questions at any point, the scene is done. Now, we begin.”

She tips her chin up at me. Her lips are parted. Her upper cheeks are speckled with the faintest of freckles. She’s fucking beautiful.

“Eyes down.”

She glances straight ahead, and the only available place to look is conveniently my crotch. She stares at the spot between my legs as it hardens. She licks her lips.

“You were a very good girl to open up like that. I like it when you are specific. I like it when you are open and honest with me. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

“When it works, what do I get?”

“What do you get?” I repeat. “You came here for me. The first thing we’re going to need is a little mindset shift.”

I take two steps back from her and sit back down in my easy chair. I’m ready to enjoy the show. “Remove the jacket.”

She stands, and has to puff out her chest to pull her arms out of the sleeves. She performs the movement innocently, oblivious of what she’s doing to me, how her every move is driving me insane. Being the good Dom that I am, I am still as a statue on the surface, in spite of the fact that she’s got the best pair of tits I’ve ever seen in my life.

She’s wearing an electric lime green bra set, just like I told her.

“Spin.” I make a twirling motion with my hand as I lean back in my chair. “And present yourself. Don’t look at me while you do.”

She rotates, displaying every last curve in her body. Every inch of her which I am going to dominate in the next sixty days.

“Good. Now sit.”

She crosses her legs like a good little girl. “When we are in a scene, you must call me Sir. Or Master. Which do you prefer?”

“Sir. How do I know…” she hesitates. “May I ask a question, Sir?”

I smile. She’s a natural sub, already asking for permission to ask questions. “You may, Little Rose.”

“Sir, how do I know if we’re ‘in a scene?’”

“I’ll make sure you know,” I say firmly, and leave it at that. “Uncross your legs, Little Rose. In public, you are a classy lady. You are the beacon of fucking class. With me, you are my Little Rose. You are my bad little girl, and you say and do exactly as I tell you to do. Is that clear?”

She uncrosses her legs. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now close your eyes, my Little Rose.”

“What--” she stops herself again. “Sir, what are you going to do to me?”

“Close them,” I repeat calmly. She obeys.

I get up and grab a feather from my mantle. “You’re learning the rules, so I’ll let this go for the moment. You don’t need to know why. As long as you trust me, you only need to do what I ask. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Right now I’m examining my property. I need to look you over for any bumps and bruises.” I run the feather over her flesh. I start at her ankles, then bring it up to her thigh. Her eyes are closed and her face has an even expression. Rose has no fucking clue how hot she is, and that might be the hottest thing about her. The flesh of her thighs is so smooth, so plush, I want to put my tongue all over those delectable thighs and lick her silly. Even though I’m the Dom and she’s the sub, she’s the one controlling me in a way.

Her body shivers a bit as I run the feather along her neck. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are, Little Rose?”

“Yes.”

I run the feather over her glorious breasts, then remove it.

“Well that’s all coming to an end, now. You’re mine, Little Rose. Do you understand? You are my property.”

“I understand, Sir.”

I sit down across from her and lean back in my chair so I am good and comfortable for the show that’s about to begin.

“Good. Now take off your panties.”

She rolls back in her chair a little and slips them off.

“You’re wet already, Little Rose. Why are you wet already?”

“Thinking of you, Sir,” she says. A smile teases my lips, but I don’t let it show all the way.

“Bring your finger between your legs and rub it against your clit.”

She does as she’s told and she purrs, her soft moans filling the room. At first, her strokes are light and tentative, a little shy, and it’s fucking adorable. My cock throbs in my jeans, expanding so much that it’s a little painful.

I stand up, unbutton, and unzip my pants. She’s still fingering herself, but her eyes widen when I pull down my boxers and my cock flops out.

Her mouth hangs open. I’m not sure if she’s shocked at the act itself or my size. I’m guessing it’s a little bit of both. She’s looking so hot right now, naked and exposed, she’s got me harder than I’ve ever been before. I could use this thing to drill for oil.

“What are you going to do with that, Sir?”

I take a step toward her. She’s basically drooling. “What would you like me to do with this, Little Rose?”

In a pleading whisper, she says: “I want you to fuck me.”

I smile. I’m an experienced guy, I’m not going to lie. But this is the single hottest act I’ve ever been a part of. My cock is less than a foot away from my student, who is stroking herself to the thought of my girth and length filling her to the brim.

“If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to earn it. Drool on my cock.”

A stroke of her finger hits in tandem with when I say the word “drool.” She moans loudly, almost a plea. “But I just want you to fuck me, please.”

I tip her chin up so she looks up at me. “That’s not how this works. Good girls get fucked. And do you know what makes you a good girl?”

“Good grades?”

I laugh at how honest her response is. “No. Listening to me makes you a good girl. Drool on my cock.”

She gets the idea and, still fingering herself, positions her open jaw inches above my cock so when her saliva drips out, it lands right on my dick. She’s got good aim. Or maybe I’m just a big target.

“Now that is a good girl.”

Inches from her face, I stroke my length that’s wet with her spit.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers. “That’s hot.”

“Do you like watching me stroke myself with your juices?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl, Little Rose.”

She tenses and her eyes roll back a bit in her head. She whimpers. “Please fuck me. Please.”

She’s so fucking good. Goddamn. I look down at her soft curves, her big tits, her thick brown hair. It’s like she is fucking made for me.

“Spread your legs.”

Leaning back into the chair, she pushes her creamy thighs apart in the air. I kneel down and my cock is at the perfect height for her pussy.

“Tell me what you want, Rose. Tell me exactly.”

“I want you to fuck me with your big cock.”

I throb. It’s not just the words. It’s her throaty, feminine voice. And the fact that it’s her. Little Rose.

“You sure you want this inside you?”

She nods and uses her other hand to guide the tip toward her opening. She is soaking wet. And tight. And she’s in for a surprise.

She tries to push me in but she’s too tense. I rub my tip back and forth from her clit down to her small opening, spreading her juices all over me. She arches her hips, trying to take me in.

“Please, Cole, just fuck me already,” she begs, need palpable in her eyes.

I smile, and slowly back off from her. “Keep touching yourself,” I say.

She does as I command, and I sit back down in the chair, watching my personal show. “This isn’t fair...I want you inside me.”

“Quiet down, Rose.” My voice is firm. “I want a show. I want you to come for me in your chair like a good girl. I want to stroke my cock covered with your juices to the sound of your orgasm. Can you be a good girl for me now?”

“That’s what you want?” she cooes. “Oh God, I’m coming.”

I use one hand to grab my balls and the other to stroke my shaft while I stare at Rose in all her glorious pleasure. She’s writhing, whimpering, and her whole body is fucking glowing. Her eyes roll up in her head again before she starts to shake.

“That’s a good girl. Come for me, Rose. Come while thinking about my cock deep inside you.”

She cries out, and I know she’s in the throes of her own orgasmic pleasure.

I stroke myself harder. I fantasized about watching Rose pleasure herself, and with the real thing right in front of me I can’t contain myself. She’s just feet away from me, and I can smell her juices on my hand and my cock from when my tip was touching her opening. My spine tingles and my balls ache, signaling what’s about to come. A damn geyser erupts from my cock, shooting cum straight into the air before it lands on my stomach.

Rose is drenched in sweat from her own orgasm, and her body is limp in the chair.

“Rose, come here.”

I examine every beautiful curve of her as she walks over to me. She’s so hot I want to eat her whole. But now is not the time for that.

“What do you want?”

“Lick it off me, Little Rose.”

Kneeling before me, she sticks out her tongue and licks my juices up off of my rock hard abs. When she can’t lick, she sucks like a hoover vacuum. I can’t wait to show her a second use for the slurping sound she’s making.

When she is done, she swallows and shows me her open mouth.

“Such a goody two shoes,” I prod. She smiles and rests her head in my lap. I stroke her hair.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s cuddle in the bed.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up.

“Of course. Did you think I was just going to have you lick up my cum, and then kick you out?”

She laughs. “I’ll be honest. I have no idea, but I think you are capable of anything.”

“Come on.” I stand up, take her hand, and lead her to the bed. She scoots her naked, curvy ass into my hips, and I grip her body with my free arm. There’s a bit of a draft, so I drape the covers over us.

Fuck if she’s not the best cuddling partner a guy’s ever had. My mind wanders off, and I wonder what I did in my past life to deserve such a fucking gift from the gods.

“Hey, Cole,” she whispers.

She can’t call me Cole. And between all the “Sir,” and “Professor,” lingo, it seems a bit odd. Still, I like hearing my name come out of her mouth. Hell, I’m twenty-eight and she’s twenty-two. It’s not like I’m robbing the cradle here. But I’ve just crossed the line with a student and it’s sinking in. I don’t feel bad about it.

“Yes, Rose?”

“This is fun,” is all she says.

I wait, wondering if she’s got more to say. But soon her breathing stabilizes and I realize she’s drifted off.

I inhale. She smells like cherries and books and sin and everything perfect. With her soft body pressed into mine, I fall asleep against her warm flesh.

An hour or two later, we wake up.

“Oh, shit!” Rose says. “I have a study group tonight. I have to go.”

“Okay.” She’s out of the bed, throwing on her clothes. I jot a few phrases out on my notepad, tear the page out and hand it to her. “Here. Open this Monday morning before class. Don’t look at it a moment before then.”

She squeezes the note in her hand. “Is this homework, Professor Hanks?”

“You could call it that.” I wrap her up in my arms, pin her against the wall and kiss her ferociously. Because I can, and because that’s how she needs to learn to be kissed. The warmth of her body feels amazing against me. Finally, I release her. “Now get the fuck out of here and I’ll see you Monday.”

She walks out and shuts the door behind her.

The rain has stopped, and the Blackwell summer sun is starting to come out again. I smile as I watch Rose walk to the car in her beautiful 4 inch heels.