Unfortunately, my girlfriend, Maggie G. was one of those types that could barely stand having a boy touch their ass, much less actually putting their ...ock anywhere near it. I made a couple of trips down to the railroad depot that summer to get the fetish out of my mind. Just past the track, there was a line of “torpedo” shacks built for the factory workers. Of course, the factory was closed now, but the owners were up somewhere in Canada and they allowed the former tenants to use the property. Mrs. Johnson taught the Consumer Economics class I took that second semester. It wasn't until the third day sitting in her class that I ran across something interesting about her.I was browsing a few of my classmate's heads who I was not familiar with, when I suddenly felt a weak probe touch me. I instantly concentrated on my work, some how managing to keep my excitement from forming until after the probe finished. Once I concluded that the probe wasn't going to return, I started doing my own. More

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