She would touch me between the legs and found that I had sticky fluid too and she would rub me to get me to make more. [Now I know where my wet dreams...originated also.] She told us that one time she tasted her fingers with the sticky liquids on them and she really liked the taste, both of ours, though they tasted different. Anyway, when we finally made her sleep alone, one night when a storm woke her, she got out of bed and started to our room. As she neared our door, it was not shut. She was distracted when her class trotted in, and when she began teaching, her movements were awkward almost clumsy. I stood at the back watching as she winced and limped through the motions, like a tiger stalking its wounded prey. All too soon, as ever, it was ever. But now was my chance! Surely I’d never find a better one. I’d not spoken to her before, only smiled. I screwed up all my courage and went up to her. “You’re having some trouble today?” My voice quivered a little at the start, but. More

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