Page 5 of Pleasuring Professor Pisces
“Oh. Well, Sig is my initials. Salem Iman Gates. Don’t worry. I don’t believe in sharing what I do in the bedroom. I’m a grown ass man, and I’m not into childish behavior. I have nothing to prove to anyone except for myself.”
“Good. Do you promise that you won’t create any uncomfortable situations for either of us?”
“You got my word.”
“Thank you.”
Regardless of his promises, I knew that it would be hard for me to stay focused with him in my classroom. Despite his handsome appearance, there was a rough edge about him that drew me in. It wasn’t just the tattoos that covered most of hisbody, including his neck and the one over his left eyebrow, but it was also the scars that he sported.
“No problem, beautiful. I’m not into creating chaos but crafting beautiful experiences.” He stood and walked to the door.
“Oh, Mr. Gates. I’m not sure if you received the email or text alert, but class is canceled.”
“I got that as I was walking down the hall a few minutes ago.”
“Good. Have a great day.”
“You too, beautiful.” He turned and grabbed the door handle but didn’t pull it open. He released it, turned, and walked back to my desk. Placing his fingertips on the edge of it, he leaned closer. “Professor Pisces . . .” My breath hitched in my throat. “We will make it through this semester with peace and energy between us, but it ain’t over. After I graduate, I’m coming at you with everything in me. I’m not letting ya li’l ass walk away that easily. Your taste is very addictive, baby girl.” He licked his lips and then walked out of my office, closing the door firmly behind him.
I released my breath, and I came in my panties.
EARLY MARCH
Of all theclasses that I took to get my degree, my Humanities course was the one I loved the most. It wasn’t just the engaging debates or the information we were fed. It wasn’t the fine ass girls who tried to get with me or the papers that I looked forward to writing. It was her.
Only fate had brought me to the class of Professor Koi Pisces Hall. It had to be fate. I had met that woman last summer and couldn’t get her off my mind. One month before our impromptu vacation that I took my mother on for her birthday, I told my mom it was time to leave Atlanta and relocate somewhere else.
She didn’t think I’d lost my mind or really even question my decision. She knew that it was for the best and had been waiting for me to come to that realization. After the time I spent in prison, it was hard returning home to the same temptations, but I had done it.
The past three years had been a struggle for me, and I only had one more year of college to complete. I didn’t want my final year to be marred with challenges. I needed to buckle down and get focused on completing school. More than that, I needed to get a fresh start in a new city, a place where I could reside after graduation. After much research, Cherokee Springs turned out to be that city. It was also the place where my mother’s best friend had relocated, so my mom was definitely on board.
“I mean, come on. It’s simply not realistic.”
“It may not be realistic, but it is feasible, and it makes more business sense.”
“How, Devorah?”
“If firm policies against workplace romance aren’t implemented, how will managers be able to navigate trauma and challenges that arise when they go awry? You know that they will because they always do. Generally, because a man can’t keep his pants up, and someone younger and firmer is going to come along, or he simply wants someone new because he’s tired of the old flame.”
“Stick to the facts, Miss Stamford,” Professor Hall called out.
Devorah nodded. “When a workplace romance goes awry, several things can happen. The nature of the relationship turns volatile and becomes explosive, inadvertently involving other staff members, production decreases because they’re more focused on the emotions involved in the destruction of the relationship, or worst-case scenario, the scorned lover shows up with a gun or some other weapon to get vindication against the person who harmed them. Inevitably, innocent people canbe impacted. Then let’s talk productivity when the workplace relationship is at its height.
“Employees lose focus when the relationship is going well. There’s a higher likelihood that you will find them in the copier room, parking lot, or the supply closet engaged in a sexual tryst than at their computers working. It impacts productivity, morale, and the bottom line. When managers have an ironclad policy in place to address these issues, it will have a much better ending.”
“I disagree,” I countered with a smirk. I continued when Devorah gave me a subtle nod. “I am not saying that there should not be an ironclad policy in place to deal with these things, but I do not agree that they should be banned, Miss Stamford, as you so eloquently stated in your opening statement. Having a policy in place that embraces these relationships makes employees more comfortable about being forthcoming when they are involved in one.
“If you place a ban on them, do you honestly believe that the employees won’t be involved with each other? No. They will be encouraged to hide it. Banning them is what leads to volatile situations, because no one knew about it, and you missed the warning signs when you could have offered corrective counseling.”
“But why should managers be involved in corrective counseling when they should be focused on productivity and the bottom line? They’re not counselors and therapists, Mr. Gates,” Devorah argued.
“Ms. Stamford, I do believe Mr. Gates has the floor at this time. Two marks against your team,” Professor Hall stated, causing Devorah’s team to boo and mine to cheer.
“They need to be equipped with a policy that allows them to balance fairness with people’s right to privacy. Banning workplace romances will cause employers to lose talent. Whenthe heart wants what it wants, it will find a way to get it at all costs. They’re simply forcing employees to be craftier. It’s normal human behavior, and banning them results in demonizing normal behavior. When we consider the fact that we spend anywhere from eight hours and upwards with those we work with, it becomes easy to become involved with someone you get along with, who understands what your job demands of you, and with whom you spend more time anyway.”
I continued making my points until I allowed one of my teammates to summarize the argument. When we finished, the rest of the class voted on the two arguments. There were three teammates with me, and Devorah had three also.
In the end, my team won the debate. As she walked by me when class ended, I whispered, “Next time, leave your personal feelings out of the argument, and you might stand a chance.”
