Dr. McEvers returned quickly, his left hand carrying his laptop computer; the fingers of his right hand working at the keyboard, and his engorged p***s sticking straight out before him, thick and purple. One eyebrow c****d, he turned the laptop around without a word, letting her see that some video was playing. She blinked in confusion for a moment, and then suddenly the colors swirling and vibrating upon the screen seemed to click in her brain, and the girl realized all at once what it was—Rachel herself, m**********g. This must have been filmed, she realized, with his miniature surveillance gear sometime in the long months that the professor had secretly been researching every intimate move. The girl gulped at the split-screen images of her own undeniable debauchery.
The left half of th
