Next Friday arrives, and I’ve come up with a crazy plan.

It’s something so wild I can’t tell even Liz. Before class starts I’m sitting on my bed, staring at the question I jotted down in my journal the night before.

How does a girl like me seduce a professor?

I can’t find the words to explain how he’s taken over my mind the past few days. Professor Hanks has infiltrated my conscious thoughts, not to mention my dreams. He has become an obsession that I can’t shake loose. I jotted down my thoughts late into the night last night.

I must lose my virginity this year. I need to lose it to a dominant man. Professor Hanks is a dominant man, therefore I want it to be Professor Hanks who I give it to.

Standing there naked, I glance between my body and the full length mirror. I’ve always been a curvier girl, but it seems like only just this year that my boobs caught up to the rest of my body. I’ve gone up two cup sizes in the last four months.

I stare at my wardrobe, contemplating the most devious idea my mind has ever conceived. Blackwell is much warmer today than it was on Monday when I did my “hoodie experiment” which is perfect, because today my mind has led me down another path of experimentation entirely. I pull out a pair of short denim cutoffs. I slide a thong on first, then squeeze into the tiny shorts. I slip a Blackwell Gamecocks shirt on after I carefully maneuver my tits into a black satin push-up bra. The shirt is from my junior year, so it might be a size too small for my ample chest, making it perfect for its intended use. I file in early to Professor Hanks’ class, making sure to get a seat in the first row.

Today he’s presenting via powerpoint about the history of sexuality.

Rachel, the girl sitting to my left, has stars in her eyes and at one point during the presentation I literally catch her drooling while staring at Professor Hanks. He’s wearing an especially tight pair of jeans today, and when he turns to write on the whiteboard, she stares shamelessly at his ass. Hell, we all do. Rachel, Liz, me, and Francisco the gay guy sitting on my right.

I nudge Francisco. “Hey, I didn’t see you in class on the first day,” I whisper. “How’d I miss you?”

He smiles. “Oh hello there honey. I just transferred into the class today. I’m auditing.”

“You’re...just auditing?”

“Oh yeah. Did you see his Professor.com rating? He’s literally the hottest professor nationally. I thought I better audit Professor McHottie and make sure the ratings are legitimate.” Francisco winks.

“Perve,” I push him gently. Nothing like your gay friend to be a shameless flirt.

“What? You’d have to be lacking a pulse to not be attracted to that man. Oh my God! Do you think he might be gay?”

I scrunched up my face. “What? Him? No. He doesn’t activate the gaydar at all.”

“Can you find out!?” he whispers excitedly.

“How exactly would I go about doing that?”

“Oh please girl. You look hot as fuck today. Just drop into his office after class and see how he reacts. Play it up.”

“Play it up?! What does that even mean?”

“C’mon Rose,” he shakes his head. “Don’t play dumb. Push your tits out a little. Tempt him with those tight ass shorts, wiggle your ass in front of him.”

If anyone else was saying this to me, even Liz, it would be more than slightly creepy. Coming from Francisco, it's doesn’t come off as creepy though. And I'm actually considering it.

Professor McHottie talks us through the lecture, but I'm not thinking about the sexual history of humanity. No, I'm thinking about my own sexual bucket list instead. The list is long, considering I've never even sucked on a hard cock. That one time with Brandon? He was very drunk; and even though I tried like hell, I couldn't get him hard. The plan that’s been developing in my head is crazier than anything I've ever done, but I'm going to go through with it.

I call on the words of my favorite movie, Shawshank Redemption. “Get busy living or get busy dying.” Today, I choose to get busy living.

After class wraps up I head to the Psychology wing of the building and wait outside Professor Hanks’ office. His door is shut, and the secretary outside of his office tells me to have a seat and wait until he finishes his current meeting. It’s while I’m sitting there that I realize I have the perfect ‘in’ to chat with him.

Since my senior advisor, Professor Yeager, is gone on sabbatical this summer, that would make him my temporary advisor, right? It stands to reason I should get to know him. What if I have an important question about senior year classes in the fall term next year?

As I’m sitting there daydreaming up ways to convince this man to take my virginity, his office door opens. I shouldn’t be surprised to see that it’s one of the waify blondes from class standing there, finishing up her meeting.

“Thanks so much, Professor Hanks,” she says, her green eyes glimmering in the man's presence. She shakes his hand, making sure to linger a little longer than necessary.

I should abandon my plan. I'm not his type. I've got short shorts and a t shirt on, the extent of my ability to dress sexy. Blonde Waif has a tight white skirt on, like she’s about to head to her shift as a cocktail waitress. I stand up and take two steps toward the door. I’m running out of here. This plan is dumb, I’m borderline insane, and he loves waify blondes, not curvy brunettes.

“Where’s Jordyn?” his voice booms throughout the room, stopping me in my tracks. No one has called me that in years, everyone knows I go by Rose. He turns toward his secretary. “Didn’t you say he was waiting?”

I stop in my tracks, then pivot around to face him. “That’s me,” I blush.

“Jordyn. You’re not a guy.” He smiles, feigning confusion.

“No. Definitely not,” I smile nervously. “I go by Rose.”

He gives me an up and down, and I want to shrink into myself. It’s too late to turn back. My heart thumps, but I won’t let him see how he affects me. I toss my hair, hold my head high, and I walk into his office.

“Sit, Jordyn Rose.” he points to the easy chair in his office. The room is rather large, for a Professor’s office, and the bookshelves on two of the four walls are filled to the brim with thick academic textbooks. I wonder if he's read all of them.

I obey, setting my book bag down, before taking a seat. I push my chest out as far as I can, though he doesn't seem to notice.

“Looks like I'm going to be your advisor this summer, helping you pick out your last round of classes for the fall. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself.”

He looks down at some papers and shifts them around his deck. Is he even paying any attention to me? Nervousness creeps in, and my throat involuntarily tenses. My voice comes out shaky as I croak, “I'm a sexuality studies major.”

He nods. “How did you decide on that?”

I lick my lips. I want to learn how to seduce guys like you. “I’ve just always been curious about sex. What can two people do to both be totally satisfied together in the bedroom? I have a journal, and I write a lot of ridiculous questions in it like that. I want to be a sex therapist someday.”

Now I’ve finally got his full attention, I think. “Really? You want to be a sex therapist.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to get your doctorate after Blackwell?”

“I haven’t thought about it to be completely honest with you, Professor Hanks.”

“Jor--I mean, Rose. You know you need a doctorate to be an official therapist, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course. I just figured I would take a year off before I applied to schools. Maybe waitress, or travel abroad. I’m not sure yet. I need a bit more experience before I start practicing. Like real life experience.”

He eases back in his chair and folds his hands. “I can understand that. You don’t want to be just another therapist giving advice about something you only know academically. It makes total sense. How can I help?”

He cocks his head slightly, squints at me, and I feel a wave of heat surge through me. Be brave.

“Actually, I do have a question. You’re a younger professor, so I thought maybe you could give me a different perspective on it.”

I don’t think he’s doing it intentionally, but I see his pecs flex in the blue button down he’s wearing today.

“Of course. Anything I can do to help.”

“It’s kind of a personal question. Is that okay?”

“Of course. Anything, Rose.”

I swallow and pause. “I want to lose my virginity this year, and I’ve been thinking of ways to do it.”

“Uh, okay… What’s your question?”

Get busy living, or get busy dying.

I stand up and summon every ounce of courage I have. My palms sweat. I look down at the ground as I walk around to his side of the desk. He half spins in his chair so he’s facing me. My eyes glide across his tight, faded jeans. He looks more like a cowboy than a professor.

Finally my eyes meet his. “I like you, Professor Hanks. I’ve thought a lot about this.” I pause. “This is going to sound crazy, but I was thinking how I want a guy like you to take my virginity. I don’t want one of these college guys who pump and dump girls like it’s a sport. I want someone who knows what he’s doing, and I want him to be smart. Gentle but rough. Masculine. Dominant. I kept thinking how I want a guy like you, and then I thought, no. I want you. Just you.”

His jaw falls open. Before he can speak, I complete my thought so that it’s crystal clear. “Professor Hanks, will you take my virginity?”

He stands up and adrenaline pours through me. What will he do? Bend me over the desk? Kiss me softly? A combination of the two?

“Get the fuck out of my office,” he growls. “Now.”

I put my tail between my legs and get out.