“Anyone read last night’s assignment?” He sighed. No one even rustled. “No wonder nobody passed the quiz. Class dismissed for the day, we’ll...talk about this next week.” He watched as they packed up their book bags and filed out of the classroom. He turned and sat at his desk, exasperated. Kids these days, he thought. They don’t care about where they came from or the history of the country. “Mr. Roberts?” A voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up; one of his students was standing in front. He’s got a book in his hands and glasses on his nose. He’s hot because he’s intelligent. He’s older than me but not enough that we don’t share experiences. That’s when my hands start to grace over my nipples over my shirt. My fingers just lightly feather over the little nubs as they become hard. I walk into his office. He glances at me over his book. He arches an eyebrow and starts reading, “I can’t help myself from running a finger over their rims until a light aw echoes into the room.” I. More

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