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Professor. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Which only proves my point.” He sighed and shook his head sadly. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
    “Yes, damn it, I apparently lost track of this conversation a long time ago. Do you want me to rewrite the thesis or what?”
    He shook his head again. “No rewriting will be necessary, if you will simply…bow to the needs of the situation.”
    Maybe it was the way he said “needs” that suddenly clued me in. Receptivity. A floral skirt would be “pleasing.” He had wanted me to make myself pretty for him. His face was red and he was shifting uncomfortably in his chair. My eyes were probably as wide and round as my mouth when I said, “Oh.”
    He sighed in relief as if thinking, The idiot finally understands! and then unbuckled his belt.
    I froze where I was. He stood to let his trousers drop, but thankfully the tails of his shirt hid whatever he had under there. The sound of the loose change in his pocket jingling when it hit the floor shook me out of my paralysis.
    “You’re crazy,” I said.
    “Come now, don’t be difficult,” he insisted as he sat back down in the chair and waved his hand at his lap like a waiter showcasing a meal. “This is the way the world works, Miss Casper. Using your mouth will incur no risk of pregnancy and it will be but fifteen minutes of your time at the most. Is it worth it to throw away years of work by refusing to do this one thing?”
    “You’re seriously saying if I suck your dick you’ll pass me, and if I don’t you’ll fail me? Did you even read my dissertation?”
    He waved his hand as if dispelling a bad smell. “It doesn’t matter.” Then he gestured to his lap again. “Oral sex is not only much safer for you, but it is also more satisfying for a man my age. There is a pillow on the bookshelf for your knees.”
    “You’re out of your mind,” I said, looking in horror at the embroidered pillow jammed into the bookshelf right next to him. “Completely and utterly out of your mind.” With that I turned and practically ran to the front door. I grabbed my shoes and bolted out, right onto the sidewalk, and didn’t stop until I had rounded the corner in front of the Korean grocer.
    There I paused to catch my breath and put my shoes on. I dared a look around the corner of the building, wondering if he’d chase me with his dick hanging out. There was no sign of him.
    I leaned back against the building, my heart pounding. If I’d thought last night was unbelievable, this was in a whole different class. The nerve! I wondered how many female students had polished his knob over the years. And how many of them hated themselves for it later. I shuddered. Disgusting. He even had a pillow there like it was a regular thing!
    I should report him, I thought. Shouldn’t I? Or would he claim I came on to him? You’re being naive if you think this kind of thing doesn’t go on all the fricking time, I told myself. He’d been at the university a long time. He probably had friends in high places. For all I knew, he went to orgies with the dean. I didn’t know what to think. Hah. Wasn’t that the lesson he thought he was teaching me, to make me ready for the job market? That this was the way it was? Women have to put out sexual favors to powerful men if they want to get anywhere?
    A sudden thought struck me. Had he seen me do something at the bar last night, flirting or whatever, that made him think I was a slut? Why did he show this side of himself now? I tried to think. I hadn’t done anything. Well, except screaming at the top of my lungs as I came inside a limousine, but I was sure no one knew about that. Maybe he’d seen me drop the marble into the glass?
    I needed to talk to someone about it. Jill? No. I’d only get a lecture about how I must’ve brought it on myself somehow. Or she’d say it was his way of saying the thesis was no good. Mom? No way. She’d lecture me on how I shouldn’t have