Taken and Shared On Stage by the Art Professor By Deborah Cockram
I sound like a silly teenager, I know. But it was...I guess the word is, well, hell, I don’t know the word. But when Professor Stokes stood there, and I leaned against him, my breast pressing against his arm, it felt like an electric charge ran through me.
It was an accident, of course, but I almost gasped just the same. I glanced at him, to see if he noticed – of course he noticed, I mean I’m a 20-year-old coed, with a firm body that most guys my age drool over, and I was leaning against him, my boob pressed hard against his forearm. He was reading a paper he was holding in his hands, and I knew he knew I was staying there, pressing against him on purpose.
I looked at his face – he glanced at me, his eyes locking on mine
