I took a deep breath and looked down at him and smiled. “You shouldn’t be doing that, Mr. Emerson,” I said. He looked up at me, smiling, sayin...: “You’re right. Do you like what I shouldn’t be doing to you?”“Mr. Emerson, that feels nice, really…[gasp][flex] really…Oh God!” his fingers were inside my skimpy panties and feeling my cunt. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “You’re wet,” he said. I opened my eyes and smiled. “Please Mr. Emerson…” “Yes?” “Don’t” I felt his fingers. Clothes were never a big deal for her. Sitting in class later that day, she found herself noticing how the waistband of her jeans pressed into her hip, rather than listening to whatever passage the professor was reading out loud. Reema shifted in her seat several times, enough to cause some students beside her to look over. ‘They must wonder what the heck I’m doing,’ she thought. When Cassie treated her to a ‘meal card’ dinner later that night, Reema mentioned the anecdote. ‘It felt weird,’. More

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