"Friday class again, hmm?"

I smile at you as I perfect the knot in my bowtie, critically examining myself in the mirror, taking a moment to brush some stray lint from the suede elbow patches of my jacket.

"It's just this semester, dear. Adelson going off to Moscow to be with that Dostoyevsky professor threw everyone's schedule into a cocked hat. Besides, Dean Fitzpatrick says there'll be a bonus in it for me come the summer." He means it, too. A 7pm to 10pm Friday class is no more fun for professors than for students, though a good number of students like it because it frees up one more slot during the week. And at 10 pm, most parties are just getting into full swing and the bars are at just getting ready to consider being rowdy.

"It killed date night," you pout. I chuckle and glance at you.

You're not entirely serious, I'm sure, but it is very difficult not to call in and cancel the class when you look at me that way ... and when you're wearing that short little bathrobe that shows off your legs. I step lightly over to you and take your hands in mine. "Well, why don't you have some fun without me? I know your friends think I'm a fuddy duddy; can't imagine why you'd marry someone fifteen years older than you."

"Oh, sweetie, no -- "

I raise a hand and grin, a mischievous gleam in my eye. "Go on. Get done up. Go out on the town. Why not that frat house down the street?"

You raise a skeptical eyebrow. "The one you called the cops about?" I laugh heartily.

"That's the one. They're having a party tonight ... go on out, have a good time. Maybe text me while you're at it. Let me know what you're up to." I wink. "Torture me. It'd pay me back for taking on a Friday class."

"I don't know ... " But I can see the excitement lurking in your eyes -- the temptation to misbehave, even in the smallest way. You scowl a little. "Isn't it a black fraternity?"

"That it is. But I see girls of all colors there."

My heart is going a mile a minute, though my face remains perfectly composed. The thought of you ... playing around on the campus, teasing the boys, the star athletes, then coming home to whisper in my ear about it ... it's been a private fantasy of mine for a long time.

Not that I expect you to go too far.

Not that I expect it to become an addiction, or anything ...