What did you dream about?"The question was simple, thrown like a smooth, perfect stone into a plate-glass window. She blanched, started to say somethi...g, hesitated. She'd dreamt of him last night. He was looking at her, the innocent look gone, his eyes staring straight back at her, pinning her, daring her to deny what he already knew.She blinked, took a sip of coffee to cover herself, and mentally slapped her cheek. She could play too, damn it! She nodded, smiling slightly. "It was nice."He. You are so wonderful for understanding. I love you so much!”I didn’t answer her and drove home quietly while she continued texting on her phone. My mind was in a lustful haze. I was so confused. I felt angry, jealous, and petty, but I never wanted to fuck my fiancée so hard in my life. I was hoping she would let me fuck her before she started to play with her dildo. I didn’t want to hear any more of her story. I didn’t want to act uptight in case this was just another of her teasing sex stories. Soon I went into my room I got into sleep as I was bit tired of studies. It was around 11 I woke up, I was feeling very thirsty, so I got up and went to kitchen, and I had and was going back, that time.I was getting some hiss sound of my teacher from the ventilator which was very much attached to the stairs. Curious to see what’s that, when I peeped in I saw my teacher was laying on bed, uncle was sitting in between her legs both were nude, my teachers legs were up and uncle was making forward. I am not interested in Angela any more. I'm not sure that the reverse is true."Well, Jenny, how are you getting along?" Professor Dawney exudes uncomplicated, professional, coolness. I suspect that she has other interests in the project but I'm happy if she wants to pretend that it is all just another, ordinary, piece of academic research."I'm quite pleased with progress." I reply, keeping my true feelings in check, submerging them under the minutiae of my project activities and the politeness.