Page 16 of Gin & Sin

“Yes. Of course.” I shuffle the essays I was grading before my thoughts shifted to the slight soreness between my legs and how much more I hope it’ll be tomorrow. “What can I help you with?”

The student shuffles over, talking to me about the extra credit I offered in my Lesbian Studies 101 course for those who didn’t do so great on the pop quiz.

“You did the essay?”

The student nods, tucking a lock of bright purple hair behind their ear. “It was really good for me. I ended up learning a lot about gender presentation. I didn’t do so hot on the terminology section of the quiz.”

I take the paper, glancing at the student’s name. Chelsea Real. I thought it might be her, but her appearance has changed dramatically since last week. I’m pretty sure her hair was dark brown and one length. The paper is several pages long and delivered in a protective sleeve. It’s a quirk of mine that I alwaysrequire extra credit to be printed rather than emailed like most assignments.

“Great. I’ll grade it and have it back by Monday.”

Chelsea lingers, and as her cheeks turn pink, she offers a hesitant smile. “I saw there was an advanced studies course, but it didn’t have a specific semester assigned to it.”

“Yes. It requires a certain number of waitlisted students before it gets put on the schedule. If you’d like to take it, be sure to add your name.”

“Cool. Do you think it’s better to focus your interest or be more well rounded?”

I lean back, folding my hands on the desk. “I suppose it depends on your ultimate goal. What’s your major?”

“Sociology, but I’m thinking of choosing a focus on queer studies. When I was doing my research I saw that there’s a lot of need for that, like in social work and even corporate jobs.”

“Yes, there are opportunities.”

Her face lights up. “I think I might be… Or maybe I’m just questioning but…” Chelsea pauses, laughing nervously. “Sorry, Prof. No idea why I’m telling you this.”

“You can talk to me.”

She plops down in a chair, picking at the rip in her jeans. “I guess I figured by twenty-two I would already know if I was into girls, right?”

My heart softens for the confused woman. “I’ll tell you a funny story.”

“Okay.”

“I’m forty-eight, far from being twenty-two. It’s taken me about two decades of being somewhat aware and at least another decade of full denial in my teen years. I just accepted it a few months ago. Really, truly accepted and owned it.”

“You’re…gay?”

“I’m attracted to men. I haven’t landed on a specific label yet, but it doesn’t matter to me as much as realizing that’s my truth. If I can go nearly half my lifetime, twenty-two isn’t bad at all.”

Her shoulders drop and she looks relieved. “How does it happen though? How are we oblivious to something so major?”

“Here’s a follow-up task for you. It’s a bit of a rabbit hole, but I think it’ll help.” I grab a piece of paper and scrawl two words—CompHet and patriarchy—then slide it across the desk. “Read about these two concepts.”

Chelsea takes the paper and nods. “Thanks.”

“No problem. If you need support, there’s a group on campus.”

“I’m really glad I took this class and did the extra credit. It’s like a whole new world.”

Chuckling, I nod. “I can relate.”

After Chelsea leaves, I do my best to refocus on the essays I have to get graded, but damn, my mind keeps drifting back to Kit and the way it felt to be kissed by a man. His beard scratching against mine, his rough hands groping me, the deep, hearty moans as he slowly took me apart.

My cock swells and I squirm in my seat. I get to see him again tonight, and I can’t stop thinking about his thick, heavy cock on my tongue, his fingers stretching my hole, his mouth hot on mine. Fuck.

I scrub a hand over my face, hoping to snap out of it long enough to work for a couple more hours. The urge to reach inside my pants and squeeze my dick is tempting, but fortunately, a knock on my door stops me from the scandalous behavior. I look up and smile when Theo enters.

“Hey, you.”

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