On The Struggle Of Being Generally Interested and Being Super Attracted to Your Tutor.

University is a confusing time. You are trying, primarily, to be drunk for most of it while simultaneously furthering your future. Most of it is not interesting and, if you are an arts student like I am, even less of it will convert to useful knowledge on the open market.

Once in a while you will find a class that genuinely interests you, or that will further your career prospects. Easy, pay attention and put the time in. You will anyway, you like the subject matter and grasp the benefits to your end game: a job.

Then again, once in a while you will have a raging hard-on jabbing into the underside of your desk during your interpreting medieval philosophy class.

Your tutor is doing her best with the dry subject matter, but to you she is doing so much more. The words fall gently from her lips, her hair tosses with her vivid movement and she has an arse that most of your twentysomething kin would dream of. Still, no problem; wank yourself silly after class, listen enough to get the vibe and pack a whole lot in on your assignments.

The real problem comes when you come across the rare double. Your tutor is both immediately fuckable and teaching a class of interest use to you. Life throws you curve-balls and this is the number one for university students Australia wide.

Picture it; you are finally doing what you are supposed to, you actually want to learn, you are excited for assignments. And who should walk in but a 40-something semi-bombshell with just the storied face that lets you know what she is doing and could probably coach you through the weird breakdown you are shit in the middle of.

I know, I know, we all know it well. But for me, this is now the case. I want to pick her brains and her loins. I want her to tell me I'm is the best student she has ever had, in the grossest way imaginable. I want to stand up in front of the ethics board and declare my love for my happily married tutor. I want to be expelled and know that, fuck it, I took my shot. I want to wake up with her and rush to our late class together, sex-hair intact.

But, objectively, I want to learn what she has to teach me. About Journalism and love. More objectively still I need to stop being so horny, I imagine this is how rapists get in the game.

But then really, I want my milf-ass tutor more than I want tomorrow.

NP.