The Dating Lesson

The last shock waves of the orgasm leave my body, and I scan the theater again before tapping Leo’s shoulder, giving him the all clear that it’s safe to come up back to his seat. He leans over and gives me deep kiss on the lips, and I taste myself on his lips.

I watch the rest of the movie in a blissed-out daze, resting my head on his shoulder and holding his hand.

After the movie we go to dinner. He takes me to his favorite sushi restaurant; another thing I haven’t done in ages. Usually I grab whatever I can from the cafeteria and eat while I read or study. It’s a quaint and quiet spot, tucked into a little nook of a strip mall. The food is to die for, the best sushi I’ve ever had. I’m nervous at first because he’s so affectionate with me. Not only do I not know how to take that, considering this was only supposed to be a fling, but also because he’s my professor and he doesn’t seem at all concerned about people seeing us together.

Even though the thought of getting caught and there being some sort of scandal is horrifying, I love the idea of us dating; being a couple. He’s everything I could ever want in a boyfriend. I know, after meeting him, no one will ever be good enough for me. I’ll compare every other man to him in the future and no one will ever measure up. He’s ruining me for anyone else. Leo is the whole package. I just wish we didn’t have this complication to deal with. I understand why the school has a policy against professors and students dating. I’ve heard horror stories over the years of professors who take advantage of their status to coerce students to date them, but in this circumstance, we’re both adults. This isn’t high school. No one is taking advantage of the situation. I don’t need special treatment in order to get good grades. There’s no reason a relationship between us couldn’t work. Unfortunately, not everyone would see it that way.

As we sit here having dinner and I learn more about him, the idea becomes ever more appealing. I learn that, like me, he always wanted to be a lawyer. But for him, life got in the way. His mother had got sick and he chose to take care of her once he graduated from law school. He took a job teaching at the law school rather than taking months to study for the bar, and once she got better, he didn’t really have the desire to be a lawyer anymore. He enjoyed teaching and interacting with the students. He likes the freedom the academic calendar gives him so he can pursue his other hobbies and travel. He hasn’t ruled out ever becoming a lawyer, but for now, he really loves what he does.

“So why do you want to be a lawyer? Were your parents in law?” he asks. The waitress brings us a tiny carafe of sake. The warm alcohol relaxes me, taking away any nervous thoughts I may have had about getting caught in public with him. I’m able to settle in and enjoy our time together getting to know each other. I find myself being completely comfortable opening up to him. I tell him things I don’t tell anyone.

“The opposite, actually. My dad and brother are in jail. They’re innocent, and they could’ve received a fair trial and justice if we’d been able to afford a decent lawyer. But my family’s poor, and the legal system is stacked against poor folks. I plan to work in public defense or for a free legal clinic that helps low-income families who deserve a fair chance.”

He touches my hands across the table. The lamp above our heads picks up flecks of red and silver in his hair. He’s truly the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

“I’m very impressed by you,” he says, weaving our fingers together. “You’re all action. Most people who go through hardship do a lot of talking about how they will make things better, but they never have a plan to actually execute it. You’re dedicated and smart. You’ll be an amazing lawyer. I have all the confidence in you.”

My heart flutters as he leans forward and kisses me. “Why don’t we go back to my place?” he says with a suggestive smile.

I grab my coat off the back of my chair. He doesn’t have to ask me twice. “Let’s go,” I say eagerly.We get back to his house. It’s a modest track home in a great neighborhood. Far nicer than anywhere I’ve ever lived. It’s a cozy two-story with a fireplace and big yard. The whole living area has been converted into a library, all the walls covered in books. Instead of a typical living room with a couch and chairs and TV, there is a comfortable-looking nook with a bench covered in pillows and a lamp with soft yellow light for reading. I imagine this would be exactly the kind of décor I would have in my own place if I had one, which makes me feel all the more at home here with him.