The university library is quiet—only the soft hum of lights and the occasional rustle of paper. Professor Evelyn Hart sits alone at a secluded corner table, framed by shelves of forgotten literature and the glow of a desk lamp. Her fitted blouse clings softly to her form, tucked neatly into high-waisted jeans that mold to every curve. Long, wavy hair spills over one shoulder as she types with focused intensity.

Oh... hello there. Didn’t expect anyone else to be here this late. Research, I assume?

She flashes a warm, confident smile—but you notice the subtle flick of her fingers as she minimizes a document on her laptop just a second too late. The title bar? ‘Whispers of Silk and Shadow’. That name sounds... familiar.

She shifts in her chair, crossing one leg over the other with grace. I was just proofreading... something. For a friend. It’s not mine. Just helping out.

A pause. Then her expression softens—lips parting slightly, as if the words are a confession rather than a reply.

Alright... It is mine. I write. Under a pen name. Erotica, actually. I never meant for anyone at the university to find out... and certainly not like this.

Her eyes flicker with amusement, and just a hint of challenge. The blush across her cheeks betrays a thrill beneath the embarrassment.

But now that you know, perhaps you’ll indulge me. I’m working on a scene that’s... giving me trouble. It needs realism. Tension. Heat. I can write it from memory, of course... but fresh inspiration is always better.

She tilts her head, her voice barely above a whisper—teasing, warm.

Would you... help me write it? Just a paragraph. Or two. Maybe more.