Page 7 of Pleasuring Professor Pisces
I lifted my eyebrows. “Let me find out ya fine ass been stalking me. I’ma snatch you up and ain’t gon’ let go, Professor.”
Her eyes widened, and she sat back a little.
“Nah, don’t run now. Let me get my turn.”
“Okay, tell me about me.”
“You’re very compassionate, but you don’t want to be taken for granted, and you want to be respected. You’re chill and enjoy your space, but you can sometimes be rebellious. You hold things too close to your chest and sometimes take yourself too seriously. You love romance. You don’t like know-it-alls. You probably read a lot of self-help books.”
She giggled and stood. “Goodbye, Mr. Gates. I have another class starting soon.”
“Am I right?”
“You’ll never know.”
“Oh, trust me. There will come a time when I’ll know everything about you. Time is running out, Professor,” I stated, reminding her of my promise. I grabbed my bag, looked at her over my shoulder, and replied, “See ya soon.”
I was rushingto Chelsea’s art studio. I recently agreed to attend her sessions twice a week. She was the only person outside of my family who knew how much I loved painting, drawing, and sculpting. The last couple of weeks, we had painted natural landscapes. She told us last week that this week, we would have a surprise.
I pulled into the parking lot only to circle it and pull back out. The parking lot was crowded tonight, and there were no empty spaces. I forgot that she was having an art show along with the regular classes that were being held.
The building where Chelsea hosted her events and classes was an old, converted warehouse. There were several loft apartments upstairs, and downstairs was her space for classesand events. She had two large open spaces where she held special events. Then there were four smaller studio spaces, where classes were taught each night. She often filled in when one of her instructors called out, or sometimes she just chilled at the back of the class.
I found off-the-street parking and hopped out of my car. Grabbing everything that I needed, I jogged down the sidewalk back to her studio.
I prayed that it wasn’t too late for me to get inside. She usually locked the doors at seven. The liberal arts department held an urgent meeting this evening after classes ended. They were discussing eliminating programs and what our options were. They hadn’t informed the students yet because no final decision had been made. They implored us not to discuss with anyone the details shared in the meeting until they had the opportunity to inform the student body.
When I arrived at the door, I tugged on it to find that it was locked. I pressed my face against the glass doors and tried to peer inside. The music was loud, and I could see people moving on the other side of a translucent wall, but I could not see any details.
Sighing, I turned and rested my back against the door before I removed my phone to try to call Chelsea. I doubted that she would be able to hear her phone ringing. She generally turned it on vibrate whenever she held classes or events. I hoped that her phone was on her body and not lying in her office or purse.
When she did not answer, I sighed and ended the call. I really needed this release tonight. Not that I couldn’t do the same thing at home, but I needed the vibe and atmosphere of Chelsea’s studio. I needed to be surrounded by other students and become inspired. Today had been stressful.
I noticed a few missed text messages from Chelsea that had come in earlier. Just before I opened them, I heard a sound behind me. I pushed off the glass door and turned to face it.
“Hey, Koi,” Cecil, another student, greeted me after opening the door.
“Hey. Thanks for opening the door for me. I tried Chels, but she didn’t answer.”
“She’s moving between the class and the showing.”
“I figured as much,” I stated, hitching my bag up my shoulder.
“I doubt if anyone would have heard you out here knocking. I happened to be coming back from the restroom and saw you propped against the door.”
“Thank you,” I repeated as I followed him down the long hallway lined with paintings and to a room at the rear. I stepped into the classroom behind Cecil. There were twelve tables positioned around the room, with two students at each table. I briefly saw someone at the front of the room out of the corner of my eye as I maneuvered through the room. We were having a human model tonight. That had been her surprise.
I found my table in the third row, where I normally sat, and placed my bag on the floor. I hurriedly unpacked it since I was already late for class. When I settled in, I finally looked up at our model.
Surprise coursed its way through my body, and my face flushed with fever as the model’s piercing gaze met mine. It was none other than Mr. Salem Gates. For a moment, I could not breathe.
Chelsea came behind me and wrapped her arms around me. She kissed my cheek, and I relaxed in my best friend’s embrace. She didn’t know it, but she grounded me in that moment.
“So glad you could make it. I thought you wouldn’t come after it got so late.”
“I needed to be here tonight, but this, Chels. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I hinted at it,” she whispered loudly. “Did you not check the four text messages that I sent to you?”
