Then, she pulled them back and her hands traced the tops of her nightdress. I could smell her. Along with the overwhelming scent of her blood, the sce...t of her sex flared my nostrils. What, or who was she thinking of as she touched herself? I could only hope it was me.It wasn't long before her hands travelled down and pulled her gown up to her waist. She wore no undergarments, and I had the perfect vantage point to see the slightly darker hairs covering her mound. Watching her, I felt what she. I got the impression he liked looking atme, too. One day he asked me stay after class, and then he told me that, like theother teachers, he would like to help me in my math. Would I be interested?Of course I said yes. We set up for the next day. We met and he beganhelping me with the exercises. At the end of the session he volunteered todrive me home and we got into his station wagon.As we drove, he started talking about masturbating - did I, how often,where, what did I think of when I. More

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