The Professor

by Fallen Kittie, Iamnotthere (Photographs)

THE PROFESSOR isn’t really a story. It’s more of a revelation, an erotic dialectic from a jaded grad student’s point of view as she cultivates herself through her sex. Fallen contends with the tumultuous task of completing her first thesis, enjoying the entrails of her latest existential crisis. Whenever she finds a spare moment, she also finds her mind wanders to an old professor who proved to leave a lasting impression. His smile, the steady strength of his hands, his broad shoulders; every word, every erotic every missed opportunity. Back then, she held off. Both were bound by rank and ethics. Her hands were tied. She figured his were Fallen never thought the attraction was mutual. So when the semester ends, she never looks back. Better to take an A than potential rejection. But she never forgets the professor. It was bad enough when he taught her, how her eyes would linger and how his eyes would creep into her thoughts. Now, he haunts her memories as much as her fantasies and she can’t help wondering what could’ve been. Reflecting on her relationships—or lack thereof—she faces a glaring disconnect. Suffocated by her studies and solitude, just this once, she resolves to indulge her fantasies. Lucky for her, the professor’s office hasn’t changed. As she knocks, Fallen will she be able to overcome her insecurities? Will the professor indulge her even if she can? But the professor answers before she can disappear, ever the teacher, riveting her with realizations.

118 pages, Paperback

First published November 12, 2014

About the author

Fallen Kittie is a freelance writer and sociologist who studies existentialism and supernatural folklore. She also enjoys penning erotic novels.

Reviews

[Marie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this story about a young university student, content to wile away her hours studying in solitude. Her newfound relationship with her old professor opens her eyes to what her life has truly been like for the last few years and how "playing it safe" when it comes to relationships of any kind, doesn't necessarily mean finding contentment. My favorite part has to be:
"When you found someone to relate to, it made for an easier mind. I understood why people weren’t so bad. Assurances arose when you drew parallels. A sense of purpose arose from a sense of solidarity."
I can certainly relate to the main character and enjoyed watching her grow. Though the dialogue carried most of the story, (I would have liked a glimpse into other aspects of her life.) it was an amusing read that was both sexy and thought provoking.

[Jim Horn · Rating 5 out of 5]

A brilliant, highly charged, arousing and poetic literary feast.

I love words. There are so many amazing phrases in this. I refuse to spoil them, read them yourself. Character development turns up the heat in explicit romance. These characters happen to be highly intelligent, like you. Stimulating the libido, it's yet a feast for the mind, like biting into real fruit rather than bland, watery GMO substitutes. Take it for what it is, fine prose without shackles of censorship.

This author punctuates with pithy moments, adding high-contrast elements to a flavor profile. Shakespeare did likewise, to the chagrin of vapid academia's pseudo-intellectual prudery. Related sensory zones empower pleasure in one's center. Accordingly, her engaging the brain turbo-charges an arousing force throughout this delightful gem. This story makes you feel even more, by making you think. If morality is dead and needs an update, so do institutions of learning whose hubris subverts their noble founding principles. As John Galt once said: "check your premises". This, however, is a breath of fresh air, like a lotus rising from the mire. Expect life rather than dead perfection.

As much as this piece orbits the academic universe, its purpose is to be tasted, not graded. Anticipating and interspersed with action, any introspection within it is steaming hot as it wrestles with passion. It shows true grit to admit we all over-think everything, taking a leap of faith to feel. Fearing any rut of cliché, does one miss the groove?

There is a progression here. Stories and lives do not culminate in one single destination point. Isn't it blasphemy to refuse to enjoy the process of the journey? At what point do like minds become kindred spirits, all fallen yet some arisen? If the devil is in the details, what greater power resonates within our affection? Our dear Kittie relentlessly pursues that philosophical absolute: "I love, therefore I am".