A Room Full of Men

and I’m the only woman. This is a school. I am 1/3 of a teaching team; me and two men: an educational threesome. So scandalous, even thinking it. The student body is 98% male. Tech college: all programmers. So I’m seeing an ex-student. Sure he’s younger, blond, freckled—but not a baby. Grown. Two adults. (Con)sensual. Male (age: 22). Female (age:25). When I say it that way, it doesn’t sound so obscene. Some (school-boy fantasy) porno. Such a naughty teacher. Although the first kiss didn’t come until well after he received final grades. I didn’t want to be that (woman they beat off to) teacher. Although it’s impossible not to become her: as soon as I walk away, their eyes follow my flesh’s every movement. My lover (someone on the inside) told me. Not (all) the staff, but the students; the men—some staff, some ex-students—thought my unmarried co-worker was nailing me. Fuck it: I’ll be a slut (in day dreams, in urinal talk, in Penthouse letters) no matter what, whether I wear turtle necks and tunics, burlap sacks, a bonnet, never have a boyfriend, never make eye contact with men. Let them wonder (stares won’t slump my shoulders): am I wearing panties underneath this cotton dress?