Caught in the Act with My Student, But I Don't Regret It

I'm a professor in my forties and have been openly non-monogamous for years. Academia is not as innocent as people often assume. One of my students, a bright 23-year-old named Alice, started showing up late to class frequently. Little did I know that her frequent tardiness was because she spent the early mornings waiting outside my apartment with a bouquet of flowers and whispered sweet nothings under my window. It all came crashing down when one chilly autumn evening, I heard the familiar rustling from my balcony. Before long, Alice had climbed up to my terrace using an old ladder I'd left out by mistake. There we stood, under the moonlight, both equally guilty and exhilarated in our secret rendezvous. Over a semester, as her final project deadline loomed closer, she confided that her coursework was overwhelming her. Sensing her vulnerability, I decided to offer help. The tutoring sessions went beyond the syllabus, slowly but surely, the line between academic and personal blurred. We started with long talks over coffee in my apartment after class, then progressed to more intimate exchanges. One evening, it reached a climax. She arrived at my place, looking visibly anxious. I invited her into my bedroom where we sat on the bed, drinking wine and talking softly about our feelings. After hours of building up anticipation, Alice pulled me close and kissed me with unrestrained passion. My hands ran over her body, feeling every curve, inch by inch. Soon, she guided me to the edge of the mattress, straddling my lap and guiding my hand to her wet entrance. I parted her thighs wider, our bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. We kissed deeply as I entered her slowly, savoring each moment until we were lost in rhythm, breaths mingling and skin brushing against skin. Later that night, we lay tangled together on my bed, hearts pounding and minds racing with the intensity of what had just transpired. While it felt wrong in a societal sense, there was no remorse in me for crossing lines that seemed arbitrary in our mutual passion. I'll admit, this confession will likely bring down judgments from others, but when your life is about embracing choices and challenging norms, how can you feel shame for acting on what feels true?