Joselyn knew what the other grad students thought of her, the kind of stories they spread around the department. They said that the only reason she'd moved in with Paul was that she needed a place to stay and that she gladly traded a little sex for free rent. She couldn't fault what they had to say about her; it was true. She had cultivated her relationship with Paul with that end in mind. Not that she thought there was anything wrong with doing it. Paul certainly wasn't complaining. He was having the time of his life, getting much more loving than he could handle.

Joselyn had a very pragmatic philosophy of life. She had learned long before that her face and body have her a decided advantage in any situation where men were concerned. Her chosen field Theoretical Chemistry, was highly competitive and totally dominated by men and she was determined to use every edge she had to get ahead. It wasn't that she doubted her ability to perform mentally that made her resort to using her body to get what she wanted; she knew that she was just as intelligent as her peers. She wasn't compensating for any defiency, but rather, using all of her physical attributes to set herself apart from the uniformly brilliant competition. Perhaps more she simply enjoyed using her body as a lure, a tool; she enjoyed screwing men both physically and mentally, messing up their heads, making them hop and skip to suit her whims.

She'd put a lot of thought into her choice or a male room mate. A guy had to fulfill certain criteria in order to become a candidate. First, he had to be handsome and experienced with women, a suitable sex partner. Paul more than fulfilled the bill in this regard. His name and phone number, followed by various superlatives, had appeared on the wall of every ladies room in the Chem Building. Second, he had to be someone who could help her further her career. As Paul was one of the most senior of the graduate students, she figured he knew his way around, where all the departmental skeletons were buried.