And of course, I still somehow made time to date.
Women still stay on my brain, though, even after a decade or so of teaching. I haven’t had time for many serious relationships though, and it’s part of the reason why Scott and I often end up pursuing threesomes. She gets two men, which means that Scott and I have more time to focus on our individual endeavors. Plus, every woman we have had the pleasure of meeting has been beautiful, intelligent, and witty. We have been very lucky.
One, however, has been on my mind lately more than the rest.
I take a break from grading papers at my desk and lean back in my chair to stretch. These papers are the first major assignment in Astro 1, and the wide range of quality proves it. Most of the students in this class are freshmen and sophomores, and I expect the sophomores, at least, to have some grasp on what they’re supposed to do. Some of them seem okay, but others are completely lost. Fortunately, at least three or four of the papers were of very high quality, and among that group is Violet Means’s.
A smile curves my lips when I think of Violet. How could I have known when I first kissed her in the sauna that she’d reappear in my life the next day? I thought this was a one-and-done deal, a delicious encounter which I’d cherish for years to come. I was fine with it being nothing more than memories. But the next morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about her--the sway of her luscious hips, the bounce of her huge breasts, the innocent warmth in her brown eyes. Violet had captured my thoughts in a way that no woman had for a long time.
Plus, when I saw her at the front of the classroom that morning, I thought she was a dream, an apparition conjured by my desperate neediness. But she was real, and I thank my lucky stars.
Scott and I haven’t talked much about Violet, but I know she’s on his mind, too. I catch him staring at her sometimes during class and have to subtly elbow him in the ribs before anyone else notices. I wonder if I should feel jealous since we’re both consumed by the same woman. But something tells me that if Violet wants both of us, we can figure out how to be with her. We live in New York City, after all. There’s room for all sorts of unorthodox arrangements.
A knock sounds at my door. “Come,” I command. It’s nearing the end of my office hours, so it could be a student looking for help on an assignment.
The door creaks open to reveal Scott, his dark hair rumpled stylishly. “Hey, man,” I say, and gesture to a chair in the corner of the room. “What’s up?”
“So yeah,” Scott says, plopping himself down in the chair. He passes a hand over his face and groans. “These papers are…”
“Not great?” I suggest, and he laughs.
“That’s a little more generous than what I was going to say.”
“Hopefully this isn’t a reflection on our teaching skills,” I joke.
Scott shakes his head. “Maybe we can blame it on their English professors.”
“I’m not too worried,” I say, and mean it. “It’s the very beginning of the semester. These kids probably just slept and partied all summer, like we used to.”
“Like we still do,” Scott corrects me.
“Fair enough.”
Scott rakes a hand through his hair. “Hey Mike,” he says. “Do you think that Violet is going to want to see us again?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” I say. “I sure as hell hope so.”
“I do, too. But I understand if she doesn’t.”
“Of course. It would make total sense. But it would be a shame if she didn’t.” I sigh. “Maybe if she transferred out of our class, that would help her make a decision? After all, then we wouldn’t have power over her grade.”
“Yeah. That would probably speed things along.”
“Well, it’s out of our hands. We just have to wait and see what she decides.”
“It’s already been a few weeks, though. Maybe she can’t make up her mind.”
I shrug. “Then we have to be patient. It’s completely up to her. That’s what we promised.”
Scott sighs and slumps lower in his chair. “You’re right. You know that it’s hard for me to be patient, though.”
I laugh and nod. “I know, bud. Me, too.”
Scott cracks his knuckles loudly, and I roll my eyes at him. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. He stands and mock-salutes before striding to the door. “Guess we’re heading back into battle. I’ll come get you a little later.”
“I’ll be here,” I grunt in return.
Scott is about to head back to his office when there’s another knock on the semi-open door.
“Hello?” says a small voice softly. “Professors Kamp and Mason?”