I felt asleep listening to Dawson’s CD,’ replied Janine. Professor Dawson was in charge of Psychology 101. ‘You never need to study,’ groused ...atasha. ‘Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been a prodigy.’ ‘I’m just lucky.’ Janine squirmed. Something strange was happening. The feel of the dress on her bare breasts, hips and thighs was intoxicating, but the fabric trapped between her legs was setting her on fire. It almost seemed to have a life of its own. She swore that it had fingers, or felt. Growing up, while the other boys in the neighborhood were outside playing baseball, John was content to stay indoors and watch his mother as she worked on her computer. He was always asking her questions and she never talked down to him, always giving him direct answers. He always had his head buried in books. His mother would give him classics written by Jules Verne, Mark Twain, and Robert Louis Stevenson. He was a frequent visitor to the public library, reading all the Hardy Boys novels and. He sat down and opened a magazine on swimming.The baggie shorts he wore exposed the smooth legs with some calf muscle definition. My guess was his thighs would be the same. He caught me looking and he smiled. At that moment I felt embarrassed.I was trying to stay focused on my reading. My eyes were going from the pages in the book to the guy. He was handsome and I could not keep my eyes off of him. I looked at his left pant leg and noticed something moving. I shifted slightly in my chair and my. The effect spread down from his head in a wave of invisiblehooks. He shook and his breasts jiggled beneath his soft dress."No, no, no!" he shouted, grabbing at the bulge of his crotch beneath hisshrinking stomach.He could feel the flesh moving against his belly, soft skin slidingagainst smooth skin. Shrinking. Twisting. He stood, pawing at thefront of his dress. He grabbed the bottom and lifted to see the whitepanties beneath. They bulged slightly over his cock but were alreadypulling.
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