You’ve been craving him all semester, but you’re worried it will hurt things for you in the long run.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” tell him during office hours. “But this is the kind of thing that comes back to haunt people. My career. My reputation.”
He’ll close the blinds.
“Don’t worry,” he’ll say.
He’ll unbutton his shirt.
“Nothing we do will have any effect on your life whatsoever,” he’ll say.
He’ll move some papers off the desktop and take your hand, guiding you to climb on top of his desk blotter.
“You’ll never look back on anything that transpires between the two of us as something to regret, or to remember with any sort of importance,” he’ll say.
You’re unbuttoning your blouse now, reassured.
“Because darling, I teach communications. As far as the world is concerned, I don’t matter in the slightest.”
You take him. You take him with great urgency. You take him like he could disappear into irrelevance at any second.
Happy Have Sex With Your Communications Professor Day!
