I look at his ass, or I'd raise my hand more even though I didn't know the correct answer. Then out of nowhere I started getting better grades on my h...me work. I would get my papers back, and I would be in shock. I'd look up at him, and be like "are you sure you graded this right?". He'd just smile at me, and move on to the next person. Then next thing I know I was standing in front of his desk after class demanding how I got the grades I was getting. Most of the working I did wasn't even. "I'm just getting to that." I sighed an exasperated sigh, but he continued. "That's when we saw all these luscious looking tits starting to poke through our side of the wall, that ... and a few arms and hands through other available holes, and as I soon learned, more than a few available pussies to be touched and explored through some of them as well. Not to mention the one's that the guys began sticking their own dicks through." Glory holes?" I asked."Yeah, I guess that's what they normally go. I’ve been an Auburn fan since before I could walk.”Ken laughed, and said, “Even I know about that rivalry. Look at it this way; by your wearing it that hat is the ultimate camouflage.”“That’s bad! Funny, but bad.”“Do you want me to go back and exchange it?”“No,” Hawk laughed, “it’ll end up in the trash, where it belongs, soon enough.”Ken drove them to the edge of ‘Old Town, ‘ the site of the original city of San Diego. They stopped at a small store where Ken purchased a pair of nondescript. ”“Until you arrived and relieved him of his head,” Joseph pointed out – again for the hundredth time. “I do not worry about Jonathan Burbridge or his father. They have had ample opportunity to try to do away with me. If nothing else, they understand all too well the penalty for the attempt. No, this is not from them. The handwriting is ... feminine. You have seen my scrawl and I know your writing is no better. Neither Jonathan nor his father is ever going to be a scribe either. We have about 50.