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I wished she would have just been quiet. My body ached on the brink of satisfaction. Miss Morgan opened the door as I curled up trying to be quiet. I prayed she had wiped her desk and her lips clean. “Sit down,” she told the student. I thought for sure we were caught. Her office must have reeked of sex. “I just wanted to pick up my essay,” the girl said meekly. I could sense in her voice that she sensed something unusual. “Yes, sorry it took me so long, I’ve been very busy this week,” Miss Morgan replied. I knew she was busy because of me. I smiled, watching her sit down in the chair and searched for the essay. I felt her heels poking me as she pulled the essay out of her handbag. She gave me a squeeze with her legs, as if to make me squeal. “Let me know if you have any questions,” she said, squeezing me again with those athletic legs. I looked up her skirt, grinning at how funny it was to be hiding under her desk. The girl left in a hurry, probably freak out by Miss Morgan’s. My breathing got harder too.I got off the elevator on my floor, guarding my raging hardon and throbbing balls with my briefcase. I deliberately didn't look back. I also could hardly concentrate on my work. I kept checking email, but nothing was there. Fucking bastard, whoever he was. Teasing me, taunting me. Well, the hell with this shit. I was gonna show him, so I picked up the phone to call my girlfriend. I was just horny since we hadn't fucked in a few days, that was all. And then my email signal came on. I slammed the phone down just as she answered and grabbed the mouse and clicked a couple of times and the message came on: "You had a hardon this morning. I KNOW you did. You liked the feel of my hand on your ass. And you know that's true, or you would have moved away when you had the chance. Tomorrow morning, I don't want you wearing any underwear."This sick faggot queer had to be kidding. I always wore underwear. And besides, if I got a hardon, it would really be visible. I.
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