He was a student. I was his teacher. He had to learn things. Who better to teach him, and my other male students, all about sex than me? I would train...the girls to be sluts and the boys to be studs.I smiled at that, my pussy clenching.And then I groaned as he reached my panties. He stroked the material, his face pressing closer and closer. He brushed the waistband, his fingers trembling. He stared up at me. I smiled back at him, giving him an encouraging nod.He hooked my panties’ waistband.. He knew he had made a mistake as soon as he saw the robes of the pair of traveling nuns on their way to the Cathedral in the nearby city center on an annual pilgrimage of homage to the shrine of the Christ child in the humble manger surrounded by domestic animals and the shepherds from the flocks in the field.The huge figure of a man huddled speechless just inside the flap of the hasty shelter. He was uncertain of his welcome. He was certain in his knowledge that his presence was of some. More

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