I shrugged my shoulders sheepishly. I then expected him to remove his hand, which had been there longer than it should, but instead he slid it up the...inside of my thigh. Our eyes fixed on one another, it was my place to rebuke him, to tell him to stop, I was in charge in this office, in this interview, but I couldn’t, well if I could I didn’t!On the screen the blond was being held by the black man who was pounding her mercilessly, James’ hand moved up further and then met my wet knickerless. He was honestly the reason I decided to take a poetry class. As much as I longed to take a fiction workshop, I couldn't pass up four hours a week staring at him in his flannel shirts. It was an added bonus that his class would help me in getting my creative writing major. We eventually became good friends, maybe a bit more flirty than most teacher student relationships. When I'd walk by him he'd always give my arm a squeeze and I'd wink at him. The first time he was caught off guard and as I. More

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