This week, during my classes, I’m distracted by Rose.

I haven’t given her any instructions for what to wear this week, but she’s taken it upon herself to flaunt her goods in front of me. Monday she wears a short skirt and a scoop neck shirt. I’m pretty sure I catch half the male students in the room drooling in her direction.

Wednesday she wears tight jeans and I’m reminded that in addition to her incredible rack, she can look good in nothing more than tight denim and a flannel button down, looking like one of the cowgirls of Blackwell.

Friday, though, is the day she absolutely kills me. Probably because she’s as anxious as I am for the weekend to start so we can head out to the cabin on the lake. She shows up to class on Friday with a wry little smile, wearing a short skirt, leggings, and black shirt that shows just a little midriff. When I lay eyes on her, all I can think about is how I’m going to fuck her so hard and in so many different ways this weekend. that smile is going to be sore. She’s got her big glasses on too and her hair is in pigtails. When I get closer to her, I read the white text on the shirt. “Misfit.”

I’m done. It’s all I can do to keep from pacing back and forth on the lecture hall stage without a huge boner. I’m droning on about Unit Three of Psychology of Sexuality, when all I really want to do is just get real with the students. Just tell them, hey, you want to see what sexuality should be like? It’s me and Rose, and our exploding chemistry. Sex this hot has never been observed, so listen closely to her moans, like I did the other night.

“Professor Hanks?” One of my students raises their hand, looking at me, perplexed. “Why are you talking about chemistry? Chemistry of what?”

Had I started talking about Rose and I? Fuck. Get it together, Hanks.

“Guys, all of the sciences are related. Professors will try to delve into one subject, but it’s important to keep in mind a holistic approach to education. Chemistry, psychology, sexuality, it’s all interrelated.” I give myself an internal high five for the Grade - A bullshitting I just did to string my thesis together. I don’t know what I was talking about one minute ago. I’m like a student pulling something out of their ass to finish a final paper.

Rose has me too off my game. How am I supposed to be a proper professor with her hot ass distracting me in the front row?

The kid who had asked the question continues. “So, chemistry and psychology are interrelated? You mean like what chemicals your body releases when you are in love?”

“I see you’ve done your reading for the week.” The class chuckles. “Alright. If there are no other questions, I’m going to let you all out a few minutes early this…”

A hand shoots up in the front row. Rose’s dainty little fingers wiggle in the air.

“Professor Hanks,” she begins, her tone even and confident. “We’ve talked about the psychology of attraction in this class. We’ve talked about the cultural and societal influences of attraction. But all you’ve done is quote texts. You haven’t told us about what you think. And I think a lot of us are wondering what your expert opinion is on what makes love work--you know, the deepest of all chemical attractions.”

The class turns their heads toward me, nodding their agreement. I get it. I’m the young, cool professor. Most of Blackwell University is stuffy, fifty-something white haired men. The students want to hear my personal opinion on the matter.

“What I think,” I say, using my professor voice. “Is that attraction is a case by case basis. For all of the science we can talk about here, sometimes you are just attracted to a person and that’s that. Some people make you produce...what’s the chemical, class?”

“Dopamine,” a few of them respond.

“Very good. I see you’ve actually been listening to me.”

I give them the reading for the weekend and dismiss the class. Rose flashes her brown eyes toward me as she leaves, then walks out extra slow. Most of the students are out of the classroom when she ‘accidentally’ drops her pen and bends over to pick it up. I just stare at her ass in disbelief that those were the same cheeks I spanked in my office last week.

This weekend, I’m going to give her forty-eight hours that she’ll never forget for the rest of her life. By Sunday evening, she’s going to be ruined.

When she picks up the pen, she turns and grins slyly. We lock eyes, both knowing it is so on for tonight.

She might be my student. This might be completely against the rules.

But I’m not going to lie.

This is hot as hell.

* * *

Later that night she appears at my doorstep with a pink JanSport backpack on.

I scoff a little, but I have to admit I love her girlishness.

“How’d you get here?” I ask.

“My hog,” she smiles, nodding toward her bicycle propped up on the kick stand behind her.

“I’m going to put this inside, and then we’ll take off.” I open my garage door. The wheels tick as I push Rose’s bike inside. She’s got on the same Misfit top from earlier, but she’s changed into jeans. Probably for the best, what with all of the creeps hanging out around Blackwell late at night watching some hottie ride a bike around.

I toss her backpack into the backseat of my ‘95 Grey Mercedes. Blackwell is hot enough on this late summer night to roll with the top down, but I press the button to push it up after I turn the key in the ignition. We pull out of the driveway.

“It’s a nice night,” Rose says, sticking her nose out the window like a puppy.

“It is.”

“Does it feel weird to you?”

“Does what feel weird to me?” I ask.

“That we have to keep the top up? You know. Since I’m just your dirty little secret.”

I stare down the road. “Actually, it does. If you want me to be real, Rose, I like you. And I don’t mean in the ‘I want to fuck your brains out’ way. Well, actually, yes I do. But I also like talking to you.”

“We’ve said like two words to each other outside of fucking,” she snorts.

I pull onto the main road heading due west toward the opposite side of Blackwell. “You’ve made it very clear what you want, Rose. Sixty days. No personal attachments. I’m just your research project so you can be a better sex therapist someday. I get it. But as a result, I think it’s important to keep things mostly just sexual. You have a charm about you, Rose. The guy you end up with is going to be very lucky. Just because we haven’t had a lengthy chat yet doesn’t mean I don’t realize that.”

“He is?” she asks. Her tone is filled with genuine surprise. I’m watching the road, but I can feel her squinting at me in shock.

“Oh come on, Rose. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed every guy in the class checking you out. Add in the fact that you’re a people pleaser, and a little bit of a nerd. And let’s not forget those curves.” I smirk toward her and steal a glance. “You’re a fucking dream girl.”

“Wow.” She nods slowly, and fiddles with her phone in her hand.

“What?”

“I just never thought of myself like that.”

I grin as I turn onto a dirt road that leads toward the University’s research cottage. Rose is such an anomaly to me. How did she make it to age twenty-two being a virgin, hot as she is? It makes no fucking sense. And now she doesn’t even realize she’s a dream girl? Come on. It’s sheer madness.

Like a strong wind hitting me in the head, a thought crosses my mind. After forty-eight hours in the University Cottage with me, Rose will never be the same. After a weekend full of being molded for my cock and mine alone, she’s going to be ruined.

Too bad she only wants me to be her temporary Professor with benefits, and nothing more. But if that’s the case, I’m going to make sure she can’t ever get this weekend out of her mind.

“Hey Professor Hanks. Can I ask you just a regular question?”

I furrow my brow. “Like the regular question you asked today in class?”

“Ha! I couldn’t resist. No. This one is a more...a regular personal question.”

I have to admit I am curious of anything that gets dreamt up in that cute little mind of Rose’s. “Of course. Ask away.” The sun has fully set now, and we’re in the Blackwell Forest Preserve. I turn on my brights to navigate the winding dirt road.

“I know we’ve talked about you dominating me. And I like that. I think I am mostly submissive by nature. But the other night, I accidentally called you Cole. It felt almost weird, calling you something else besides ‘Sir,’ or ‘Professor Hanks,’ but you didn’t even address it.”

“You’re right,” I croak. I don’t know what to fucking say here. Say that I like her calling me by my first name, even though she’s made it fairly clear, a professor is what she wants for her fantasy. If I say that I’d prefer her to keep calling me Professor Hanks or Sir, I’d be lying.

“I like it when you call me Cole,” I finally say. “I know you’re my student and I’m your professor, and I haven’t read the full policy but I know we can get in a lot of trouble for fucking. Well, I can get in a lot of trouble for us fucking. But yeah, Rose, I don’t mind it. It did sound weird the first time you said it, but the way your voice sounds, shit. I could listen to you read math equations to me and I’d get turned on.”

“Really?” she smiles. “Well maybe we’ll have to turn the tables and I can be your sexy little math teacher one of these nights.” She shimmies her boobs a little, pulls down her glasses to the tip of her nose, and bites her lower lip. “How are your multiplication tables these days?”

I crack a smile, something I haven’t been doing all that much lately in Blackwell. My mind drifts briefly to thoughts of my mom, and what she’s doing tonight. Luckily my sister is taking care of her this weekend so I’ve got it off.

I need this. I need a break from the stress. My mom’s treatment has been taking a toll on me. And Rose is the perfect remedy.

I haven’t even given Rose the outfit I picked out for her for this weekend, and I can already feel my cock hardening, rubbing against my jeans.

Finally we come to the end of the long and winding dirt road, and come to a stop in front of the cottage.

I get out, open the back door and hand Rose her backpack. I grab my duffle bag full of fun surprises for the night.

As I turn the key in the lock, I hear a grumbling noise.

“Was that your stomach?” I ask.

She blushes a little. “I’m hungry all of a sudden. Oh my gosh, what are we going to eat out here?”

“You got my text about bringing the food, right? The cabin has nothing.” The look on my face is of utter concern.

“No!” she blurts as I push the door open. “You never told me that.”

“Just kidding,” I say as we step inside. “I came earlier today and stocked the shelves.”

She lets out a relieved breath, then rolls her eyes in my direction. “Dick.”

I smirk. “Come on, you know me better than to make us starve.” Inside, the university cabin is smallish--just one floor. Though it has four different dorm-style rooms so that multiple residents can stay here if they want. The main living area has a fireplace, a sofa, and a bookshelf with a ton of big, thick books--the kinds of research textbooks that probably took those authors years of their lives to write.

“Good, Professor Hanks. Because I am very hungry. Like ravenous.” Her voice is soft, and it turns me on. She runs her hands across the bookshelf. I love watching her. Her natural curiosity has a way of making me more curious--something I’ve lost in the last year. “And I know you like to eat. I did see you put down that burger at the Watering Hole.”

“You were watching me eat? Creep.”

“Yeah, I was watching. Kept stealing glances at you between listening to my mom bitch about my dad.”

That piques my curiosity. I haven’t told Rose about her mom’s advances, and I don’t plan on it. Still, I wonder about Dean Allison and her husband. Where did they go wrong? But I don’t want to talk about her parents right now, so I change the subject.

“Anyways, with all of the physical activity we are going to be taking part in this weekend, we’re going to need a lot of replenishment.”

“Well what are we having tonight?”

“Pussy,” I growl, licking my lips. I wonder if she gets wet from just the thought of my tongue on her. The way she’s trembling right now, I don’t doubt it. “Or maybe I’ll save that for dessert. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Or you could just feast.” She tosses her head back against the bookcase, and she has no idea she’s my ultimate fantasy right now. Voluptuous nerd girl in a crop top that says ‘Misfit’ on it, standing next to a bookshelf. She looks like a hot nerdy librarian intern.

“Yeah, there are a ton of good books on that shelf. Long, thick, deep books,” I growl, the innuendo clear.

She laughs, and her giggle is food for my soul. “You have such a dirty mind. I wonder what Liz would...what the students would say if they knew.”

“If they knew what? My love for literature? That’s hardly a secret.” I take a step toward her, cup her hip, and pull her into me for a kiss.

“Goddamn it Professor Hanks...Cole,” she whispers. “I’m calling you Cole from now on.”

“Except when you call me Sir,” I groan, running a hand through her thick, dark hair.

“Oh yeah?” she mewls, licking her lips. “What else do you want me to do, Sir?”

I smile. This gorgeous fucking woman trusts me so much, she’ll do whatever I say she should do. And I have just the fucking thing. Her eyes follow me closely as I unzip my duffle bag, reach inside, and pull out laced black underwear with a word across the front.

“You’ll be wearing this, and only this, during our time here. Well, this and your matching top.”

“What do you mean, matching?”

She holds the panties out, and her eyes widen. She reads the text aloud. “Cole’s.”

I run my hand up and down her body. Move close to her, and whisper in her ear. “Rose, you’re going to wear these all weekend. A constant reminder of who your pussy belongs to.” I growl the next part. “Any violations will be dealt with severely. Do you understand?”

She swallows. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now put that on while I make you dinner.”

I head over to the kitchen, take out the seasonings, and start preheating the oven. In grad school I became quite the seafood cook, so tonight I’m making baked salmon with the world’s best potatoes.

In the living room, Rose does as she’s told like a good little sub. She wiggles out of her damn jeans right in front of the fire, then puts on her underwear while I watch from the kitchen.

Once the salmon is in the oven, I walk over to her. “And don’t forget, this is mine, too.” I give her ass a slap so firm, it leaves a handprint. She whimpers. “And I’ll be taking it whenever I want, Rose. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmurs.

“Where are you from, Rose?”

“Blackwell,” she whispers.

“Good. Now get on your knees. Misfit.”

She kneels on the carpet. “Like this?”

I unzip my duffle bag and take out a black blindfold. I walk back over to her, and wave it in front of her face.

I wrap it around her eyes as she kneels with her hands at her sides like the good little girl she is.

I look at this beauty, on her knees blindfolded on the carpet. So full of innocence. I grab a full lock of her hair and inhale. She’s like a fucking sculpture, waiting to be molded to my cock.

“Rose, you are so fucking malleable,” I grin. “It’s adorable.”

“Malleable? What does that mean?”

The fucking innocence she has. I’m going to teach this girl so much more than just big words. I bend down and whisper in her ear. “It means I’m about to be the catalyst who turns you into his beautiful little slut.”

“Oh God,” she whimpers, smiling. “Professor Hanks, I love it when you use big words.” Even blindfolded, her eyes seemed to lock on my cock, which is rapidly expanding in my jeans. “You want big words? I’ll give you some big fucking words. But first, time for another toy. Take your shirt off.”

I watch as she works her crop top off, exposing her breasts.

“No bra today?”

She snickers. “I wanted you to have easy access to them when you wanted.”

I reach into my bag and pull out a cloth tie this time. “Hands behind your back,” I command. She does as she’s told and I tie her hands behind her, tight enough that she can’t move them. When I tie the knot, it makes her tits pop out even more the way she arches her back.

“Rose, you look so fucking gorgeous right now. You look stunning. Your tits-shit. Those are the kind of tits that men start wars over. And that mouth. You have particularly beautiful lips.” I lean down and kiss her as lightly as I can. She trembles and leans forward. I back away. “Little Rose, when your Professor gives you a compliment, you say, thank you,” I smirk.

“Thank you, Sir,” she says. I appreciate her use of that particular pronoun. She’s a girl who respects the game. Which is good, because this game’s about to get a whole lot more interesting right now. For both of us.

“Rose, tell me, who does this belong to?” I rub the outside of her thigh and land my hand on the front of her panties, where they say my name.

“You.”

“Say it. In a full sentence.”

“This pussy belongs to you.” She pauses. “Cole.”

I don’t know what she intends to insinuate, fluctuating between Cole and Sir and Professor. Somehow though, I think maybe she’s just speaking the way she feels in the moment. I’m okay with it.

“Good. How wet are you right now?”

“Almost too wet not to have your cock in me.”

I chuckle. Almost. She can compliment me and challenge me in one swoop. I’ll have to remember that one. I take off my boots, unzip my jeans, and stare at her as she sits on her heels. Without the ability to see, she’s listening acutely to everything around her. She hears my boots knocking on the ground when I set them down. My jeans as I unzip them. My cock as it flops out of my briefs.

“Open your mouth,” I tell her.

She opens as she’s told. I stroke my cock, inches from her mouth. “Stick your tongue out.”

She does, and I watch her tits rise and fall, her tongue out, as she breathes. “Gorgeous,” I mutter. I flop my cock down onto her tongue and hit her a few times, letting her feel the weight of the hard flesh.

I can’t wait any longer. I guide my thick cock in between her lips, letting her taste the tip. “Mmm,” she moans.

I push in and pull out a few times, giving her a few repetitions to get her mouth adjusted to the girth. This time, I go in a little bit deeper, letting her swirl her tongue around my shaft. When I pull out, she inhales, short of breath. “Are you ready for me to fuck your face, Rose?”

“Yes,” she whimpers. She leans forward and wraps her lips around my cock, assuaging any concern that she might not be ready for this with her enthusiasm. I lean my hips forward and bounce in rhythm with her bobbing mouth. My cock’s never felt as good as it has in this very moment, with Rose’s soft tongue rubbing underneath my shaft. I’m hitting the roof of her mouth, but she still takes me deep. She takes me in and out until my cock is dripping with precum. Some of it rolls down her chin.

“Rose, you’re a fucking natural at this.” Maybe I’m her Professor, but she’s the one who’s showing me a new thing or two that tongues can do.

“Mmm,” she moans again as she takes me deep in her throat. Her shoulders lean outward, as if her hands want to escape their cloth tie. She wants to wrap her cute little fingers around my cock. I know it.

I pull out, and she gratefully gasps for air.

“Rose, stand up.”

She does as she’s told, with some hesitation. I run a finger from her cheek down to her thighs. She trembles. This is one of those moments a man has to ask himself, ‘how the fuck did I get so lucky?’

Why did she come to me, of all people? What drew her here, to me? And what spurs me on to risk my career to be with her?

She trembles as I pull her panties down and kneel at her feet. I kiss around her pussy, lingering on the neatly cut landing strip she sports. Eventually my kisses find their way up her stomach to her tits, and her neck, before landing on her cheek. “Little Rose, I’m so excited to spend this weekend with you. Your clit is going to be swollen by Sunday. So sore, you’re going to take a few days off from physical activity,” I smirk.

She smiles. “And if I don’t want days off?”

“Then I’ll just have to fuck this pussy raw.”

I smatter kisses down her torso until I’m between her legs. I plunge my tongue inside her and she whimpers.

She tastes like honey. I lap her up.

“Oh God,” she moans. “Cole. If I’m a natural...you’re a fucking all-star. I’m so close.”

I plunge two fingers inside her pussy, and curl them just right to hit the spot inside her I know she needs. I use my other hand to steady her, wrapping it around her hip. She sounds so feminine as she moans, and it spurs me on even more. I flick my tongue against her swollen clit and let her wrap herself around my fingers. I can feel her clenching. As her cries crescendo, I have an existential moment, where I wonder if maybe I’ve finally found the purpose of my being on this earth: to make Rose scream.

“Mah…” she drawls, and I wonder if it’s the first syllable of the word Master. “Cole, God yes. Right there. Please don’t stop.”

My cheek muscles tense because I’m smiling so hard. She’s even polite when she’s about to orgasm.

“Oh damn, oh damn. Ah!” she cries out.

A few moments later, she nudges the side of my head with her thigh. “Cole. I mean Sir. Please stop. I mean...hammock or whatever.”

I remove my face from between her legs, and pull my fingers out from inside of her. She stands there, chest heaving in deep breaths. I get up from my knees. I give her a moment’s respite, and pull her blindfold up to her forehead so she can see me use my forearm to wipe her juices off my face.

“Holy shit,” she exclaims, examining my forearm. “Did I really come that much?”

I smirk. “I think this arrangement is going to be just fine, Rose, don’t you?”

She nods, and I resist the urge to kiss her. I’m becoming dangerously into Rose, and not just as a sub. Maybe all we technically did so far tonight, was I made her come like a rockstar, sure. Still, something about her cute innocence makes me wonder what we’d be like together as a real couple, not just this benefits situation she’s asked me to help her out with.

Instead of kissing her, I run my finger along her jawline while I think my thoughts about how perfect she is. And how we haven’t told a single soul outside of the two of us what we are doing. There is only the video I took of her before we started.

“What?” She giggles, and I love how her eyes sparkle. “You’re thinking about something, Cole. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me.”

I swallow but say nothing. Feelings are surfacing that I’m not sure what to do with. Luckily, I’m a man, and I do what men are best at: push those thoughts down into some recess of my mind and try not to poke at them. I think about the superficial. Rose’s creamy, smooth skin. Her great tits. Her luscious lips.

“Nothing,” I say, shrugging. “I’m not thinking about anything.”

“I don’t believe you,” she squints. “Tell me.”

My heartbeat picks up. I’m not ready for this conversation. In the background, I hear a faint beeping, and I’m thankful I have an easy out to end this conversation.

“The salmon’s ready,” I say like it’s the most important news of the whole night. I slip a pair of boxers back on before I walk into the kitchen to get it out of the oven.

“I hope it’s not burned,” she says.

I smile. “Put the blindfold back on, sub!” I say with my Dom voice, and she giggles. I wonder what the guys back in the club on the East coast would think, me laughing with a sub on day one. They took that shit so seriously. With Rose, it feels more playful than serious.

“I can’t. Hello, my arms are tied?” she arches her eyebrows.

I flip the blindfold over her eyes and lead her into the dining room.