In my scapegoat-seeking paranoia, I became fretful and impatient. A report came to me one day with the kind of evidence I had been half-expecting, and...wholly dreading. Cheryl, my Home Office mole found that a certain Lady Margaret Hunter Phd. Cantab, had attended Parole Boards at Galloway Prison for several years as a consultant in criminal psychology, principally from late 1973 until very recently, just after the quaintly termed 'incident' in question. It was too much of a coincidence; too. I did not tell anything. Actually, I was eager to know all the pleasures of sex except FUCK.On the third day, in the middle of the class, my pen fall down and I bend down to take it. Unknowingly, my shoulders touched his knee and he shakes his leg in such a way that it pressed my boobs. I felt like a shock passing thru me and did not speak out. After an hour while I was writing down the notes, he just touched my boobs on the dress and rubbed hard. I was shocked and stood up. He immediately. “Aunt Cass, that’s-”“Illegal, I know. But it’s only illegal if anybody finds out. And I’m certainly not going to tell anyone.” I laughed loudly, drunkenly, and Bryan seemed to relax a bit. “You know I can’t get pregnant, either. So, no consequences for a weak pull-out game, either.”“But… you’re sure it’s a good idea?” Bryan asked, still clearly hesitant.I sat up, a sudden epiphany popping into my head; I put my hand on his and asked, “Bryan, are you a virgin?”He nodded sheepishly.Now it made. I let my robe fall open slightly to allow him view to my tits and could tell by his look that it did not go un-noticed. Once our dinner was completed we had a cup of coffee and a nice desert. I gave the server a nice tip and before he walked out the door I approached him and told him I really appreciated his wonderful service and asked if I could kiss him before he left. He said yes and I allowed my robe to fall open and embraced him and gave him a big wet open mouth kiss which I know he was.