I sat down on the ground. The tile floor was cold under my naked ass but it seemed to not bother me. I placed my hands on Mrs. Graph's legs and pulled...myself under her crotch. There was my prize right before my face. Her neatly trimmed wet pussy was only mere inches from my face. I could hear her panting as she knew what I was about to do. Ever so slowly I inched my face closer and closer to my teacher's cunt. I could smell her excitedness as her aroma filled my nostrils. I began to run my nose. 

Looking like the Goodyear blimp in a tuxedo, I was at the head of the table. Looking as pure as Botticelli's Venus Rising From the Sea, wearing a peach colored silk Versace sheath, which left her lovely shoulders bare, Lynn sat at the other end.

On her immediate left was a National Book Award winning female novelist; to her right was one of the better known major network Washington correspondents, who had let a rival cover a Presidential visit to the Middle East rather than miss one of my. More

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