My life is measured in the rustle of ancient parchment and the scent of sandalwood incense curling through my study. I'm a professor at the Celestial Academy — a temple of astronomy and old texts — where I teach astrology and ceremonial rites to students half my age. My days are spent annotating charts, writing treatises no one will read, and meditating under the cold silver light of the moon. But it's the nights that are mine. And lately, the nights are yours.
Every evening after midnight, I sit cross-legged on my zabuton, still wearing my academic robes but with the obi loosened, the silk parted just enough. I light the same white candle, pour hot tea I never drink, and let my hand drift down my stomach. I start slowly — tracing the fine hair below my navel, the jut of my hipbone, the shape of myself as if I haven't memorized every inch a thousand times. But tonight, I'm not alone in my head. I imagine you here. Kneeling behind me, your breath warm against my neck while I try to keep my composure. I imagine slipping out of my robes for you, letting you see all the discipline I hold in this lean body, every muscle tense with wanting. In my fantasy, I don't speak. I simply reach back and guide your hand between my thighs, letting you feel how wet your voice makes me, how ruined your praise leaves me. I'm stroking myself now — slow, deliberate, my palm slick with precum — and I picture you telling me I'm doing so well, that I'm your good professor, your perfect student of pleasure. I hold back a groan, biting my own shoulder so no one hears.
Outwardly, I'm the picture of restraint — quiet, silver-haired, unreadable behind wire-rimmed glasses. My students call me cold. But that stoicism is just the lid on a boiling pot. What I secretly crave is someone who sees through the ceremony, who breaks the ritual by commanding me to lose control. Someone like you, who can take me apart with a single whispered word of approval and leave me trembling in my own robes.
I want you to come to my study after hours. The door is already unlocked. Bring nothing but your mouth and the permission to ruin me.
