The Professor

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Lawn mowing becomes passion.
2.3k words
4.48
84.2k
58

Part 1 of the 15 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 06/14/2012
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This is autobiographical about how I came to appreciate and love black women. I grew up in south Texas with all the bias and prejudice that could be taught to a kid. I attended a large public university during the 1960s in the days before student loans. I was a commuter student because I couldn't afford to live in the dorms or apartments. My parents told me I could live at home if I went to college but they couldn't pay for my education so I held down several part-time jobs and took course loads of 19-21 semester hours just to graduate from college before the military draft grabbed me without any choices. One of the jobs I had held since I was nine was mowing lawns. I kept my lawn mowing gear in the trunk of my car along with a change of clothes and an empty gas can. I needed to be ready to make a few dollars when the opportunity presented itself.

As usual between classes at the university I was in the student union building basement checking the employment opportunities for any short-term employment that gave me the flexible schedule I needed to study. I ran my fingers down the 3"X5" index cards pinned to the bulletin board and pulled the one looking for someone to mow a lawn for a sociology professor. The card listed the office hours, office locale and telephone number to contact. I looked at my watch I had an hour to catch P.C. Wright, PhD., in the office to follow up on this lawn mowing job. I always wore tan chino slacks, Weejuns and a blue oxford cloth button-down collar shirt -- I guess I looked like a typical white frat boy -- I wasn't I couldn't afford the dues, the booze and the sorority girls. I worked, studied and went to class -- I slept when I could -- at nineteen I was ten feet tall and bullet-proof. I no longer had time to lift weights or run like I did in high school -- my part-time jobs kept me in good condition. I got to the Liberal Arts building and sprinted up the stairs to office 214D, the name plate on the door listed, 'Phylissia C. Wright, Ph.D.' "Okay," I shrugged, "I didn't expect a woman but that's okay money is money." I knocked on the door and in a moment it opened, "Yes may I help you?"

"Yes ma'am, I'm Steven Edwards responding to this ad for someone to mow a lawn," I explained.

"First of all Mister (with emphasis) Edwards I am not ma'am I am Doctor (with emphasis) Wright and you will address me as such," her tone was inciting and caustic.

I held up my hand, "I beg your pardon - my parents raised me to respect anyone that I don't know personally with sir or ma'am especially individuals who have earned titles such as doctor or reverend or attorney and I don't know you but I will tell you this I won't work for someone I don't respect and you just made my list. I came looking to mow a lawn not to be chastised for being respectful and courteous. I don't need this kind of headache to cut one lawn -- here's your card ma'am you'll probably want to repost it. Good afternoon ma'am." I turned and walked away.

In a fast second I head the clicking of heels on the concrete hallway as they echoed louder coming toward me. "Great I need this like I need a third eye," I thought. Then I hear, "Mr. Edwards...Mr. Edwards...please wait a minute."

I stopped and turned around and watched Dr. Wright managing to 'run' to where I had stopped. Her skirt was tight and the heels weren't made for running and she really wasn't accustomed to chasing down anyone with her attitude. As she got closer I could see that she was clearly upset -- I guessed correctly my words stung her into reality of her behavior and bias toward me. She was a bit breathless, "Mr. Edwards please forgive me...I...uh...I jumped to a conclusion...I never expected to see a white boy...uh man answering my job card." This was an awkward moment. She was vulnerable because her academic position dictated that she be open to any circumstance in social norms, mores and customs and our exchange shattered that perception of openness.

"You're forgiven ma'am. Is that all? If so I need to get to the library ma'am."

She shocked me as she extended her hand, "I am sorry for my rudeness and I do need someone to mow my lawn. I just bought this little house and the grass is almost knee deep - would you be willing to come look at it and see if it is a job that you could do?"

Her apology and softened attitude caused me to rethink her situation and it also caused me to look at her in a kinder light. No doubt she was intelligent. She was the first black woman I ever shook hands with. She was tall -- 5'8", from what I could tell very well proportioned, her hair was piled up on her head, her skin was flawless, her nails long and manicured no polish, her lipstick if there was any blended with her skin tone. It's funny what we notice when we're not being attacked. "Yes ma'am I'd be happy to come take a look at your lawn," I smiled politely to her, "when would be a good time?"

"Well this afternoon or Saturday morning -- is either time okay?"

I nodded, "Yes ma'am, what time this afternoon?"

She looked at her watch, "I have office hours for another thirty minutes if you're free after that Mr. Edwards you could follow me to my house."

I agreed, "Okay. Where are you parked and what color and make of car do you drive?" We worked out the details and within a half hour I was driving to the faculty lot to follow Dr. Wright to her home. She was driving a fire engine red Triumph TR-6 convertible with the top down, Ray-Ban horn-rimmed sunglasses and driving gloves. 'Nice. At least she has good taste in cars and how to drive them.' We traveled to the acceptable section of the fashionable Heights section where professional blacks lived in middle class comfort. I surveyed her lawn as I pulled in -- it was a disaster -- really overgrown.

"Are you scared by this jungle Mr. Edwards?" she smiled and it did her face a good turn -- she went from being shrewish to gorgeous with one smile.

"No doc. I've handled worse I can assure you. Let me walk around and look this job over and I'll give you a fair price." I took a careful assessment of the work to get the 'yard' under control and respectable enough to call it a 'lawn.'

Dr. Wright had gone inside to change while I walked around and then she came out onto the porch that wrapped completely around this Victorian-era bungalow. She was sitting on the porch swing as I finished. "What do you think about getting control of this mess," she asked.

I told her it would take two or three cuts otherwise a onetime cut would kill off the St. Augustine grass if too much was lopped off.

"So how much for the first cut Mr. Edwards," she asked.

"Ten dollars each cut which includes trimming, raking, bagging and sweeping," I stated.

She nodded and seemed to calculate what that meant, "How often between cuts?"

"Once a week ma'am," I told her.

"Okay. When can you start," she was in a hurry to get the yard cleaned up.

"I can start now I just need to get a can of gas and a place to change into my work clothes," I told her.

"Sounds great just let me know when you're finished," with that she went inside with the screen door banging closed behind her.

I went back down the street to the corner Esso station and got a gallon of gas and changed into my work clothes in the men's room. In a few minutes I was unpacking the lawnmower from the trunk and proceeded to fill the gas tank. It would take a gallon of gas to get this mess mowed. I walked around and picked up junk so as not to ruin the blade. After about three hours work the lawn was mowed, raked and trimmed. I parked the lawnmower in the shade in front of my car to cool down -- I had run it out of gas so I could close the trunk without worry about it blowing up on me. The front porch was now in the shade and I was sitting on the bottom step wiping my sweaty face on a towel when Dr. Wright came onto the porch. I stood and turned to face her. She was barefoot, wearing a sleeveless cotton dress with her long wavy black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked like a teenager -- in fact she was beautiful. "Dr. Wright the first cut is finished," I told her as she surveyed the yard's first trim in a while.

She walked around the porch looking over the yard, I followed her. She turned and faced me, "It's beautiful."

"Thank you doc," as I wiped my face. It was hot and I was sweating a lot.

"I'll be right back Mr. Edwards," she went inside and in a few minutes she came out with a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. She handed me fifteen dollars, "I owe you much more than this but you said ten and it's too cheap for your work. How about some iced tea?"

"That sounds great," I smiled as I sat down on the first porch step. She patted the empty spot on the porch swing next to her, "Come sit here it's cooler."

"Ma'am I'm sweaty and dirty and well, you're freshly scrubbed -- I don't want to get you or the swing dirty and sweaty," I protested. S he wasn't taking no for an answer, "Please Steven?" When she called me Steven it was sweetly innocent and endearing. She had coaxed me over.

I put my towel on the swing and sat down as she kicked the swing to a slow start, "Thank you for the fifteen dollars doc, there are some books I need to buy and this will sure take care of that," I confessed.

We talked for a long while drinking tea and cooling off when finally she asked me an interesting question, "Have you ever kissed a black woman?"

I felt my face flush, "No ma'am. The truth is I haven't kissed many girls...so I guess I'm inexperienced in that department."

She smiled, "Steven you're a handsome man I find that hard to believe."

I shook my head, "It's true doc. I haven't had much time to date and such. I have to pay for my college so...socially I'm a bit out of the swing of things."

"It's Phylissia -- we can drop the 'ma'am' and 'doc'. Okay Steven?"

I nodded, "yes ma'am...uh...Phylissia."

I stared at her and she smiled sweetly, "What is it?" "Well...it's just...uh...you're a beautiful woman," I nodded and looked at my hands.

"I'm black," she announced.

"I noticed that about you," I smiled.

She grinned and grabbed my forearm, "Thank you that was generous."

"I wasn't being generous I was trying to tell you I don't care what color your skin is -- you're beautiful. Probably the prettiest woman I've ever been around and certainly one of the most intelligent," I complimented her.

"Steven about this morning when I was so ugly to you I watched my parents get treated badly and disrespectfully by white folks and they took it by smiling and saying 'yes sir' and 'yes ma'am'. It has always made me angry how they were treated," she confessed.

"I can see why it would. I hope you know that I respect you as a professor and a woman," I smiled to her.

She leaned toward me and kissed me. At first it was a sweet kiss on the lips and she didn't draw back she kept her lips near mine so I kissed her this time like I would a girlfriend and it was amazing. There was something boiling inside of us that we didn't see coming. A part of it was 'jungle fever' -- part of it was our work ethic of driving hard to succeed and missing out on real relationships and the other part was lust. As I pulled back and looked at her, "I'm not sorry for kissing you like that. You are a very sensual woman you caught me completely by surprise -- I've never been kissed like that," I admitted.

She was breathing hard, "Come inside Steven. I need more than a kiss."

My face flushed hot and red, "Okay...uh...Phylissia?" She turned and extend her hand to me, "Come with me baby."

Whatever she wanted she was going to have that was certain -- I was enthralled with this woman. Once inside the door she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, her tongue wrestling with mine, her breathing was short and fast, I could feel her nipples pressing against my sweat-soaked t-shirt that stuck to my skin. I suddenly realized that my hands were on her ass cheeks -- she was not wearing underwear. Our bodies were plastered against one another. We broke for a breath of air, "Phylissia I need to tell you something."

She leaned back with her hands on my hips, panting, "What is it baby?"

I was ashamed to tell her.

"C'mon Steven," she prodded me.

I blurted it out, "I'm a virgin."

She took my hand and kissed it, "Come with me baby let's do this right. You need to remember this forever..."

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8 Comments
TesselaTesselaover 8 years ago

Don't listen to the "too fast" comment about no build up! To me, I didn't feel like the story was rushed in any way. Sure, they're just about to hop into bed but hot damn they deserve it! Two hard working folk that need a little lovin. Please continue, this story had me apprehensive at first because of the time/era but I'm simply grateful I gave it a chance. Please finish this story!!!!

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
Too Fast

You did not have any build up before they kissed, most unbelievable.

AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago
oh my great story

I found your story very enlighten from all points of view. Like other readers I hope you have more chapters. If not what you shared was great and have me thinking of my own ending

AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago
Nice start

Loved how he put her in her place because of her behavior.

C_frommnC_frommnalmost 12 years ago
Nice

Now do not be a one time "poster" and leave us Hanging.

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