” My mother pulled away from me, giving me one last smile before hitting a button on the phone. “Go ahead and send him in Sandy.” She said, turn...ng back to me for a split moment before the door opened. Both of our heads turned towards the door as what seemed like the more amazing looking older man I had ever seen walked in. He had to be in his late forties to early fifties. He had dark hair that was slightly graying on the side. He was like a mix or Robert Downey Jr and George Clooney. Just. A night of monkish intellectualism. A scholar in a foreign place surrounded by dead men’s work and lofty ideals, imparting clarity and judgment to the next generation.Then, suddenly, Basya’s essay. “Sexuality in Sleeping Beauty.”My throat squeezes. My face burns. My cock startles.This is not normal.If I were sixteen and not thirty, I could understand how the title alone would rile me up. If Basya was beside me while I corrected her terrible spelling of the word ‘erotic’, if her long brown hair. More

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