Page 3 of Pleasuring Professor Pisces
Oh shit. I was in trouble. The man had me squirting with words alone.
I tried to get my life together when he grabbed the condom from his wallet, but there simply wasn’t enough time. He snatched my hips to the edge of the bed, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and held my ass in his hands.
“What are you about to do to me?”
“Too late for ya li’l ass to be asking questions now. Shoulda thought about that shit before you disappeared with a stranger. Now shut the fuck up and take this dick like a big girl.”
“Aww damn!” I screamed when he plowed straight through me. I would never be any good for another man again. This nigga was about to rip out my insides.
“Whatchu hollering for, baby girl? Didn’t you ask me to fuck you like I was ’bout to catch a case?” he asked as he pounded away inside of me.
The position allowed me to be fully open to him and give him full access to me. With my hips in the air, and my ass and back off the bed, I couldn’t move. Sig stood on the bed fucking me, and I was literally lying on the back of my head and my neck.
“Ohh shit! Ohhh shit!”
“You like this dick, Pisces?”
“I love this dick!” I screamed as tears slid from my eyes. My heart pounded wildly inside my chest, and I low-key began to fear that I would have an anxiety attack in the middle of sex. The anxiety stemmed from worrying that this man would give me a heart attack, and he would have to dial 911. That would be so embarrassing.
But all those thoughts flew from my mind as his thumb began to rub my clitoris, and he started slow stroking me. He gradually lowered me back to the bed as he kneeled. It wasn’t long before he flipped me onto my belly, with my face pushed into the pillows, my ass in the air, and his hands on my hips.
That man went to town on my ass, and I heard a low humming sound coming from him. When I glanced over my shoulders at him, I asked, “Is that?—”
“Hell yeah. Now turn around while I drill this ass, baby girl,” he ordered as he resumed singing 2 Live Crew’s song named after the position that I was currently in.
As ghetto, as hood, as ratchet as that was, it turned me on. I drove my face deeper into the pile of pillows, arched my back deeper, and spread my legs wider.
“That’s a good girl,” he replied and lost his damn mind again.
Our climax was thunderous and caused both of us to collapse on our backs. We cleansed ourselves, grabbed a snack, and fell asleep. He woke me again at two in the morning for another round of him feasting on my pussy and then nailing me to his mattress. It happened again at five in the morning, and then again at eleven, just before I left his condo. I walked out of there sore, bowlegged, and limping, but it felt so good. The way that I figured, if it would be another four years until I had sex, at least I wanted it to be memorable.
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
I was goingto be sick. I was literally going to be sick to my stomach. Heat flushed my face, and my stomach churned violently. Fear took over my insides, and every possible nightmare that could come true ran rampant throughout my brain. I felt as if everyone were watching me, and they all knew my secret, but that couldn’t be. However, it did feel as if my past was coming back to haunt me, something that I could not tolerate.
I rushed down the hall, slipped out of the doors into the courtyard, and then crossed over to the administrative building. I almost ran into my office. I immediately sent a message to mystudents, cancelling the rest of my classes. There was no way that I could get through the rest of the day. I wasn’t even sure that I could get through the rest of the school year.
Gripping the edge of the desk, I inhaled deeply and held my breath for five seconds before I exhaled. I repeated the action several times. When I was finished, I grabbed my phone and called Chelsea.
Frustration settled in when my call went directly to voicemail. Knowing Chelsea, she was sleeping in late this morning. She ran an art studio and often held late-night classes. She would turn her phone off on those nights.
I thought about calling Primrose, but I knew that she was at work. As an event and corporate caterer, she would not have time to take my call.
“God, how did I get in this place?” I whispered as I dropped my head in my hands. The only answer that came to me was that this was my punishment for being a ho this summer. I knew better, but I’d done it anyway. I had promised myself no regrets, but that was before the bottom fell out.
A knock sounded at my door, causing me to bolt upright. I grabbed a mirror from one of the drawers on my desk and checked my appearance. Satisfied that my outward appearance did not reflect the turmoil that I was going through, I called out, “Come in.”
The door slowly opened, and my stomach heaved once more. The object of my despair stood in the doorway with a casual smirk. A black fitted tee stretched across his muscular chest and arms. I could see the tattoo sleeve on both of his arms. It had been those tattooed arms, his outstanding height of six feet, six inches, and that thick bushy beard that had been my throne for one wild night this summer that let me know my worst nightmare had come true.
His build reminded me of the late basketball shooting guard, Kobe Bryant. He moved with grace and used his hands with a dexterity normally reserved for athletes.
I was approaching my classroom when I spotted him at the door. He was checking something on his phone and looking at the numbers on the side of my door. He had slowly lifted his head to look at the door again, and I was assured that it was the same man who I begged to fuck me like he was catching a case.
The moment my fears were confirmed, I turned in the hallway and rushed out of the building and to my office.
“You didn’t tell me you were the next Jackie Joyner-Kersee,” he teased.
“You think this is funny?”
