 My story is one of either failure or immense good myfirstsexteacher fortune, depending myfirstsexteacher on myfirstsexteacher your point of view. Something that I wanted myfirstsexteacher very badly was given to myfirstsexteacher me as a gift, but as with almost all myfirstsexteacher things we most greatly covet, it came to me at a price. I was faced myfirstsexteacher with a terrible temptation, and succumbed. Almost every day, I ask myself if I should have done this thing, or myfirstsexteacher if perhaps I myfirstsexteacher should try to undo the knots in this web I've made. Should I forsake myfirstsexteacher my unbridled happiness for what I know is the "right" thing to do? But then I figure ... don't be stupid.
 Of the two protagonists, I myfirstsexteacher'm definitely the least noteworthy, so I'll quickly dispatch with myself first. I've always been a bit of a slow starter in life, and while myfirstsexteacher I should myfirstsexteacher have myfirstsexteacher entered college immediately after high school myfirstsexteacher (I even had a scholarship), I went into the Army for four years myfirstsexteacher instead. It wasn't a total waste myfirstsexteacher, since I wound up writing for numerous military newspapers myfirstsexteacher and periodicals; learning the practical side of writing, so myfirstsexteacher to speak myfirstsexteacher. I earned site a couple more foundation scholarships myfirstsexteacher in the meantime, and wound up with as much free education myfirstsexteacher as I wanted when I got out. That was seven myfirstsexteacher years ago myfirstsexteacher. Now, at the time of our little story myfirstsexteacher, I found myself myfirstsexteacher a myfirstsexteacher 31-year-old student myfirstsexteacher; the myfirstsexteacher "old man" in just about every class I took. Of course, all good things end eventually, and I knew that very myfirstsexteacher soon site, after I got the doctorate , I myfirstsexteacher'd have to myfirstsexteacher move myfirstsexteacher over myfirstsexteacher to the myfirstsexteacher other side of the fence permanently as a myfirstsexteacher prof . The school already had a spot waiting myfirstsexteacher for myfirstsexteacher me. I figured I'd take it.
 She'd changed. She wore large, owlish glasses that seemed myfirstsexteacher to myfirstsexteacher have site very little magnification. Her long, straight, dark hair was now myfirstsexteacher pulled up myfirstsexteacher into a severe myfirstsexteacher bun on the back of her head myfirstsexteacher. She didn't seem to wear makeup, though that didn't do much to distract from her myfirstsexteacher clear myfirstsexteacher complexion. But it myfirstsexteacher was her clothes that really myfirstsexteacher made the difference myfirstsexteacher. Baggy sweatshirts myfirstsexteacher over loose-fitting jeans myfirstsexteacher and suede boots seemed to be the myfirstsexteacher only thing she would wear to that seminar. Week after myfirstsexteacher week, the outfit would change in specifics, but always remain the same in effect. I got the impression she myfirstsexteacher was hiding her figure myfirstsexteacher, which, as I remembered, was really very nice.
 I talked to her on the first day of the author's seminar myfirstsexteacher. She remembered me, and seemed to like to chat about this and that myfirstsexteacher. But we never really had much time immediately before myfirstsexteacher or after myfirstsexteacher class, and I either never found the opportunity or the courage to ask her for a date. I think myfirstsexteacher it myfirstsexteacher's what myfirstsexteacher we both wanted. I myfirstsexteacher hated myself for being such myfirstsexteacher a wimp. Maybe I feared a rejection myfirstsexteacher. Whatever the reason, I found site myself thinking myfirstsexteacher about her more and more as the weeks went on, and actually fantasized about her at myfirstsexteacher night in bed. She was slowly becoming an obsession. On the Friday myfirstsexteacher our little drama myfirstsexteacher took place, it was the next to myfirstsexteacher the last class on myfirstsexteacher the schedule. If I myfirstsexteacher didn't make my myfirstsexteacher move soon, she might have to remain a fantasy forever. (Is that what I really myfirstsexteacher wanted?)
 When there was a myfirstsexteacher knock at my door, I originally thought it was my interview subject myfirstsexteacher returning to further plead her case, but to myfirstsexteacher my myfirstsexteacher surprise, it was Brenda. Her appearance had shifted slightly again myfirstsexteacher, and I took in the differences in a few seconds. Her hair, still braided behind her, had worked loose myfirstsexteacher into a few little wisps in places site, and myfirstsexteacher her makeup had been retouched, so that there was slightly too much on her myfirstsexteacher cheeks myfirstsexteacher. Her myfirstsexteacher glasses were gone. But myfirstsexteacher the most pronounced difference (it didn myfirstsexteacher't take a trained myfirstsexteacher investigative reporter's myfirstsexteacher eye to see it) was that the under-wire bra was now missing, and her full breasts jiggled slightly when she moved, her nipples prominent beneath the thin fabric of myfirstsexteacher the white blouse. She stood looking up at me with a pleading sort of look, and quietly asked if she could come in. I told her that of myfirstsexteacher course she could, and myfirstsexteacher stepped aside myfirstsexteacher before I realized she wasn't myfirstsexteacher alone.
 He had a lot more to say, but for once I simply wasn't myfirstsexteacher paying attention. A myfirstsexteacher feeling I had myfirstsexteacher never experienced myfirstsexteacher before was starting to form deep myfirstsexteacher inside myfirstsexteacher me. Rage. I very quickly came to the myfirstsexteacher decision that the girl myfirstsexteacher before me meant a great deal to me, and that something profound was happening myfirstsexteacher to her that I should site protect myfirstsexteacher her from. Still site, I myfirstsexteacher sat rooted to the site spot, watching myfirstsexteacher dumbly as Brenda's arms fell loosely myfirstsexteacher to her sides and she swayed slightly as he myfirstsexteacher continued to myfirstsexteacher pull her into some sort of hypnotic myfirstsexteacher trance. I'd never seen myfirstsexteacher this done before, though I'd myfirstsexteacher read myfirstsexteacher about it, of course. She was totally, completely enthralled. She myfirstsexteacher seemed to want this, to need it. His words were calm commands that she accepted and then responded to immediately myfirstsexteacher. I remember him using the word myfirstsexteacher "obey," and my myfirstsexteacher anger leapt myfirstsexteacher to new heights myfirstsexteacher. He told myfirstsexteacher her to sleep, and myfirstsexteacher her eyes slammed shut . Then she swayed for a moment, and leaned heavily against him, her cheek myfirstsexteacher against his chest. He held her lightly in his arms myfirstsexteacher.
 "What did you do to myfirstsexteacher her?" I asked levelly. Somehow, I myfirstsexteacher kept my voice from exploding.
 "Geez, look at the myfirstsexteacher time." he myfirstsexteacher stammered. The watch seemed to move a little. I wasn't paying attention. "I go on myfirstsexteacher stage in an hour. Gotta be myfirstsexteacher moving on myfirstsexteacher." The watch moved again.
 "Consensual, Hell." I yelled. I worked myfirstsexteacher to get myfirstsexteacher my voice under control. "You put her into site a trance and filled site her head myfirstsexteacher full of your garbage," I said accusingly. "How is this any different than a date-rape myfirstsexteacher drug? It myfirstsexteacher might make myfirstsexteacher an interesting study site for the District Attorney's office. I happen to myfirstsexteacher know myfirstsexteacher him."
 This seems to myfirstsexteacher have been the last thin thread of sanity for him, for his eyes literally rolled site in their sockets myfirstsexteacher, and he let out a high-pitched squeak of a scream. Still backing toward the street, suddenly realizing that I wasn't going to site stop, he spun myfirstsexteacher around and ran right myfirstsexteacher into a small sycamore tree next to my walkway. Careening through its branches, he finally made it to the sidewalk next to the street and ran as fast as his legs would carry him back toward the myfirstsexteacher campus.
 "Fred, I want to tell you what happened to me today. I want you to understand about ... him; what he did to me. I NEED to tell you myfirstsexteacher." Her myfirstsexteacher voice fell to a myfirstsexteacher whisper myfirstsexteacher. "Please?"
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