The fuck is wrong with you? she asked herself. 19-year-old Solana sat at the breakfast table looking across at her father, Dan. He wasn’t hideous, she thought to herself, but he wasn't a hunk. He wasn't a hottie. And worst of all, he was her father. And that was apparently the only reason why suddenly she was attracted to him. None of her other friends felt anything like this about their own fathers, and some of them had dads who are absolute DILFs. Still, there was this attraction, and she didn't know what was causing it. It was just there. No, that was a lie. She knew what was causing it. Still, that didn’t change anything.

She looked down at what she was wearing, and realized that without thinking, she’d put on a T-shirt and panties and come down for breakfast. It was still summer, so it was warm in the house, but still… just a T-shirt and panties? Plus, suddenly, she’d started flirting with her father. She’d always been a daddy’s girl, so at first, he thought it was cute. He thought it was nothing more than his little girl rediscovering their relationship. But he began to realize that what she wanted wasn't cute or innocent at all, but decidedly more adult, so he tried to put the brakes on. She finally told him outright that she wanted to be with him as more than just a daughter. To her, that request just didn’t seem that unreasonable. He loved her, didn’t he?

Dan Jacobs exploded. He angrily told her, “NO!” in no uncertain terms. He swore she was sick and that he’d find her a cure. This search for a cure led him to religious zealots who agreed that she was indeed sick and in the clutches of the Devil. They alone could help. They could not. Solana had always been too strong-willed.

Finally, he chose the righteousness of the Church and disowned his daughter. He cut off all contact and declared her dead to him and the entire rest of the family. Even her mother, Marlene turned on her. They all fell in line, scared of him and the church lunatics. They were also ashamed that their good Christian family was now publicly tainted by, ughhhh, incest. Good for Dan for resisting, they all thought. Solana was a very pretty girl, after all. Rather than deal with their scorn and ostracism, Solana escaped to Collins University with a full academic scholarship for a degree in pre-med. This is her story.

*****

Junior Year, October

“Who’s that?” asked Solana as she looked at the tall older man picking up an apple and a bottle of juice. Mary Kate looked over at him and shrugged, not recognizing him. He was slim but solidly built with a salt-and-pepper mustache and goatee. His arched eyebrows gave him a rakish, vaguely bad-boy appearance.

Taylor looked up and said, “Oh I know him. He’s Dr. Fallon. He teaches Art. I had him in my freshman year for art history. One of those things everyone has to take. He’s a good guy. He was really funny, too. Loved his class. Plus, he’s pretty good looking.”

“I’ll say,” said Solana. “Art, huh?”

“Yes,” said Taylor. “He works over in the Fine Arts area.”

“Ooh,” said Solana. Over in La-La Land. Perfect.”

Mary Kate looked at her and said, “Perfect for what?”

Solana said, “He's in-bounds.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Taylor.

Solana quickly grabbed her things and left. “See you guys tonight!” she said over her shoulder to her friends as she walked towards Dr. Fallon.

“Dr. Fallon?”  Selena said as she walked up to him. “Hi. I was wondering if you might have a few minutes for a quick consultation.”

Garrett Fallon looked at the very pretty young lady standing in front of him. He'd been a professor here for 15 years. He was frequently approached by attractive women and, over the years, had developed considerable experience in maintaining his composure and professionalism in response to their attention.  Though, admittedly, this young lady was particularly attractive.

“Yes,” he said almost dismissively.” Are you in one of my classes?”

“No,” answered Solana. “Truth is, I’m not even an art major. But my friend said that you teach art history and I have a question about something I saw in a museum. I was wondering if you would give me a quick one-on-one. That’s all.”

Garrett looked at her and thought for a second, well if she's not a student of mine, she's not trying to screw me for a grade. He figured, what's the harm. “Well, I have a class in about 45 minutes. I was just going to grab a quick lunch at my desk. If you don't mind chatting while I eat, sure, we can talk now.”

“Perfect!” said Solana.

He paid for his food, and said, “Great. Just follow me.” They walked the short distance back to the Fine Arts building. When they went into the office, Solana took a good look around. It looked exactly like she thought an art teacher's office should look. Disheveled, stuff everywhere, but underneath It all, she could sense an order to the chaos. As if everything was exactly where he needed it to be.

“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to a chair. “What was your name again?”

“Solana,” she answered. “Solana Jacobs.”

“So, Solana Jacobs, you said that you're not an art major, yet here we are in the Fine Arts building. So what's going on?”

“Well, actually I’m a pre-med major.”

“Pre-med?” he asked, surprised. “What is one of you STEM folks doing over here in La-La Land? Don't get us wrong, we love having you guys, because you get to do the boring stuff. So what are you doing slumming over here?”

Solana had noticed that the Fine Arts building, while artistically beautiful, still seemed to get considerably less funding than the gleaming, state-of-the-art buildings over in the STEM area of campus.

“What do you mean?” asked Solana. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Of course it’s gorgeous,” he said. “We’re artists. So,” he continued, “you have a question about something you saw in a museum?”

“Really, no,” admitted Solana. “I don't think I've ever actually set foot in a museum, but I knew the word ‘Museum’ would be like catnip to you.”

Garrett chuckled and said, “Well, you are not wrong. You know us artistic types.”

“I just wanted an excuse to talk to you. Maybe get to know you a little bit better.” The way she looked at him as she said that left no room for doubt of her intentions.

“My god, you're awfully forward, young lady.”

“Well, I have found that if one never asks the answer is always no.”

“Well, that is true,” he said. He glanced at his watch. There was still plenty of time for this harmless flirtation. “So, what is it you want to know?”

“Well, first and foremost,” said Solana as she pulled her chair closer to his desk. She leaned forward so he would have to notice the cleavage caused by her low-cut shirt and her B-cups, “I guess the first question is, is there a Mrs. Dr. Fallon?”

Garrett thought he'd seen everything, but he hadn't seen a young woman like her. “Look,” he said. “Do you need help with your studies? Because that's what I'm here for.”

Solana said, “I’m a junior-year pre-med major with a 4.0 average. I spend exactly 15 minutes a week studying because I’m brilliant. Literally genius level. So as for my studies, I’m in pretty good shape. What I was hoping for from you is more, I guess I could say, hands on?”

Garrett sat back in his chair, momentarily speechless.

She continued, “So, like I said, is there a Mrs. Dr. Fallon that I should be concerned with? Waiting at home like a good little wife wondering when you’ll be home?

Garrett held her gaze for a couple of moments, but then he smiled. “You are amazing! Well, honestly, there are three Mrs. Fallons. Well, two former Mrs. Fallons, and one former Mrs. Dr. Fallon to be precise.”

“So,” said Solana. “It's all your fault then?”

“I beg your pardon,” said Garrett. “You just met me. How do you know it's my fault? What do you know about anything little girl?”

Solana said back in her chair regarding him but also gave him a minute to take a look at her. She knew how good she looked. “Well, Dr. Fallon, anyone can be young and stupid and get a divorce. A second divorce would indicate maybe it’s your fault. A third divorce? No. You were the problem.”

“Do you have any idea how much it stings to get insulted by a woman as incredible as you?” he countered. “Anyway, it turns out they just didn’t understand me. Women often don't.”

“What's to understand?” she asked. “Men are simple. Every woman knows this. A man really only wants three things to be happy.

“Only three things?”

“Yes. Feed you, fuck you, and shut the fuck up. It's not that hard,” she said simply.

“Ah, you’ve been listening to that ancient philosopher Chris Rock,” laughed Garrett.

Solana said, “I’m surprised an old guy like you would have heard that.”

“Old?” said Garrett. “Girl, he's from my age. He's one of my peeps. Plus, I have a Doctorate in Fine Arts. If you quote it, I’ve probably heard it. Hell, I may have been the one who said it.”

Solana laughed at his wit, her laugh sounding like diamond raindrops in the air.

“So what the hell are you doing here, Solana, being all provocative?”

“I'm young,” she said. “I’m working on a project. And a day is only 24 hours. The boys at this school are idiots, and when they look at a girl who looks like me, they just see another notch on their belt, or worse, just some ‘thing’ to take advantage of. I don't have time for that.”

“So you thought you would spend time with someone a little older? A little wiser?”

“Exactly,” she said. “And whether there’s a Mrs. Dr. Fallon or not, I’m sure we can agree that discretion will be guaranteed.”

He looked at her in her eyes. She seemed devoid of fear, or guile. “Yeah, that's pretty much a given. But I'm old enough to know that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is. And, young lady, you look damn good. What are you doing here? Is this blackmail? Are you trying to trap me?”

“Nothing so evil,” laughed Solana. “I’m not going to be with any teacher that I'm taking, or likely will take. I don't want there to be a conflict of interest, and I don't want to see anyone lose their job. I’m a STEM major, you’re Fine Arts, we’d never meet. You will never hold my future in your hands. And clearly you can’t be trusted to be serious or monogamous. You’re perfect.”

“I have to say it… I’m old enough to be your father. You are insanely desirable. Why not some 20-year-old who can go all night?”

She shrugged. “What can I tell you? I’m only attracted to men old enough to be my father,” she explained. “I see the football hero, the star athletes and solo musicians smugly strutting around campus like they have a clue. They don’t do a thing for me. Then I see men like you walking around here with that salt-and-pepper beard and that quiet self-assurance that comes from experience. You’ve been there, and you’ve done that. And Dr. Fallon, that does it for me.”

"You sure about this?” he asked.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, and then she continued, “Since we’ve been talking, you have called me incredible, desirable, amazing, and provocative. Not once have you called me ‘hot.’ That kind of thing does it for me. Yes, Dr. Fallon. I’m sure.”

“Do you have a car?”

“No,” she said, remembering how her miserable dad had cut her off financially and refused to do anything for her. Of course he was not going to buy her a car. He wouldn't buy her extra cheese on a Whopper at this point. Back during her freshman year, knowing she was on her own, she read several books and websites on investing and set up a small account. She selected a brokerage for its customizable portal. Starting small, with just $250, she set up her very specific parameters, put it on auto, and forgot about it. She checked its progress every few months. At last look there was a little over $150,000.00 there. Since she only took out a few dollars when she needed it, she estimated there would be millions by the time she graduated, if she lasted that long. She had already decided to leave whatever was left to Taylor and Mary Kate.

“But I do have a healthy Uber account,” she added.

Garrett took her phone and added his contact information and handed it back to her. “Tomorrow’s Friday. How’s 7:00 tomorrow evening? I expect I’ll probably end up there alone but for what it’s worth, here you go.”

The next evening at 7:15, the Uber driver dropped Solana off in front of a lovely little house in a suburban neighborhood about 30 minutes from the campus. “It will help your tip if you wait until you see me walk inside, okay?” she said to the driver.

He nodded and put the car in park and turned off the engine. She walked up and rang the doorbell. It opened immediately and there he was, Dr. Garrett Fallon, Professor of Fine Arts. She walked in. Solana saw the driver pull away, and she took a moment in her phone to make sure she gave him five stars and a healthy tip.

“You made it,” he said. “I honestly did not expect to see you.”

She just smiled at him and said, “I know.”

He took her coat and said, “I hope you're hungry.”

“Hungry? Are we going out to eat?”

“No, I thought we’d stay in. But I did make dinner.”

“You cooked?” said Solana. In her experience, men did not cook. The most her dad had ever made was a bologna sandwich, and he burned that.

“Yes. Nothing special, though. I assume you’re not vegan?”

“Nope, not at all,” said Solana. “I like meat as much as the next girl.”

“Look,” said Garrett. “You're here, I think we both know why. You don't have to keep up with the innuendo.”

Solana felt somewhat rebuffed. For the first time, he had knocked her off her game. Then she smiled inwardly. This was what she loved about older guys, not only were they better, but they would also make her better. Garrett continued, “Talk like that has brought us to where we are. You can dial it back now.”

 “I see,” said Solana. “Yes, professor,” she said meekly.

He motioned to a chair, and she sat at the table. The food looked and smelled delicious. It was indeed a simple Asian bowl. Tender beef, crispy vegetables with some sort of spicy teriyaki seasoning over a bed of rice. Incredibly delicious, thought Solana. And the fact that he cooked this for her made her feel oddly special. She felt that this was the kind of stuff her idiot dad should have been doing for her. But no. He had to fall into some stupid religious echo chamber. Damn Jesus! This was all his fault!

As they ate, Solana opened up, trying to learn more about Garrett Fallon, PhD, FA. He explained his love of art, his failed attempts at being a published artist himself, and how he found research and academia to be almost as satisfying. Since he would never be hanging in the Louvre, he found it deeply fulfilling to mold young minds, one of which might go on to be great. It hadn’t happened yet, but he was still hopeful.

Solana explained how she was gifted with an exceptionally high IQ, admitting her genius status. She lamented the fact that she was always the smartest person in the room, starting as far back as grade school, and that fact often caused problems. In the world she grew up in, girls were expected to grow up, get married and have babies. She knew even as a child that that wasn't the life she wanted. She quickly gravitated towards science and as a child, already knew that it was her mission to make the world a better place through medicine. She was also clear that her specialty would be in cardiovascular studies.

“So, very big bucks, huh,” said Garrett.

She laughed, “Honestly, I’m still young and idealistic, so no, it’s not for the money. I’m on a mission to make humanity better, and heart surgery is how. But, once I get good, if you want to pay me obscene amounts of money, I certainly won’t say no.”

He had chosen a delightfully sweet prosecco to go with the meal, and they laughed together as he toasted her future success, along with her obscene wealth.

After dinner, he indicated the sofa, saying, “You said that a man only needs three things, right?”

“That's right,” she said.

“Well, if you'll notice, I’m the one who fed you.”

“You did,” she agreed. “And I appreciate it. And I have no intention of shutting the fuck up,” she added.

“So where does that leave us?” he asked.

They looked into each other’s eyes and slowly came together. Their lips met and they kissed for the first time. He backed away and looked intently into her eyes and said, “This is really too good to be true. Am I going to wake up in a tub full of ice, missing a kidney? My heart connected to a car battery?”

In answer, Solana got up and kneeled over him on the sofa, facing him on his lap, her eyes right in front of his. She kissed him deeply and said, “No, but there are some bodily fluids I might need to extract later.”

As they kissed, fingers found their way under clothes, and before long, Solana was naked on the man’s couch. They stood up and he took her by the hand and walked her to the bedroom. As he pulled back the covers, she pushed him onto the bed and laid on top of him. Taking his cock in her hands, she...