Don Juan, Tarzan, her favorite bad-boy actor -- he’d played them all for her. She’d never had a vacation like this one -- not that she ever took vacations, but still. They’d splashed naked in the ocean and the lagoon he’d found at the center of the island. No one else ever showed up, just trays of the most delicious food and wine discreetly left at the front door of the cabin. She’d stopped moussing her hair or putting on make-up. What was the point if she spent most of her time either swimming or fucking? Life was good, and she’d get to live out the dream of her adult life this afternoon.Today they sat in the makeshift classroom he’d set up under a palm tree. The set consisted of a podium, a chalkboard, and one student’s desk. Bare bones, but it would serve, as would the more… um… unusual props nearby.He walked to the chalkboard and wrote on it for a moment. “Story of O.”He dropped the chalk in the tray and turned, dusting his hands. “I imagine some of the feminists in the class will squirm today, so I want to state right now that I don’t want to hear any of your whining.”Quarian didn’t resemble Professor Glocket in any physical sense.
