Mrs Cathcart turned her head, breathing heavily. She was looking at me, though the sperm on her glasses still obscured her eyes somewhat. “Hunk ador...s fucking me when I’ve just had my face plastered,” Mrs Cathcart breathed. “Sometimes I think it’s his very favourite thing.”I just stared. Harry was making no attempt to speak, just staring intently at the mass of sticky goo on his wife’s face as he drove his cock back and forth. “Does it turn you on, Hunk?” Mrs Cathcart breathed. “Fucking me. Just as he started to pee, the toilet flushed from the stall and Professor Susan Miller walked out. Simon was shocked as he heard Professor Miller greet him with a cheery, “Good Afternoon, Simon,” as she washed her hands at the sink right next to him. “I guess we are both running a little late today.”Susan Miller was not one of the relaxed hippie-type professors who taught “process” or thought-provoking discussion courses. She dressed corporate. Black high heeled shoes, grey business suit. More

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