Art-Therapy Class It was around 2:00 on a gloriousautumn Monday when my life with the student populationtook a more “personal” turn. I was...in the teacher’slounge, getting my things ready, when a woman professora bit older than I came in and made a request. Prof.Kim taught art-therapy to the nursing students, and shecame to me with a strong request in her eyes, butembarrassment in her voice and body language. “Prof.M,” she began. “I have a very difficult. Brian kept shooting jet after jet onto her pussy. I slipped into the bathroom and pulled my own cock out and came after 1 or 2 pumps.I made a big production out of flushing the toilet and washing my hands to give them enough time to clean up and when I returned although flushed and breathing a little hard they both looked pretty much like normal. I went over to Wanda and told her I was going to bed and asked if she was ready to come up also. She glanced over to Brian for a second and then. "We can tell!" cried Fi, causing everyone to laugh all over again. For some reason they all seemed as nervous as I was. "Okay, okay. Let's all relax, have a drink and settle down. There will be a lot of flesh on show tonight," Martelle said, looking right at me. "I'd like to see a little decorum." "And so would I," said Helen quietly, her eyes flashing. Helen was one of the other Dommes. A beautiful woman who tied her straight blonde hair in a very severe ponytail, she was about thirty-five,. He woke that following morning in a helpless sort of bliss aware of both his conquest and of hers. He could speak of that night as boys might, and so often do, but didn't dare given the way he woke. He was wearing one of those diapers that Sandy's sister wore and a pair of ruffled panties lined in plastic. Those Sandy's sister didn't wear but sissy boys do. Panties cute on a toddler but odd looking on a boy. Even more odd under a dress too frilly even for most girls. That young man left quietly.