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She studied his work. She didn't realize that he had leaned back and had his hand beneath her skirt.She was running her finger over his work and then felt his hand between her legs. He was sliding it up her inner thigh."Do I have it Becky?" Please Davis. Stop." she pleaded with him as her body shook.She felt his hand rubbing the front of her panties. She tried to move from his grasp but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. "Do I have it Becky?" Yes." she whispered. "You have it right Davis."He let go of her arm and reached his hand up to cup her breast again. He had one hand squeezing her tits while the other rubbed her panty covered pussy."Davis. Please." she said looking to the open door of the classroom.He let go of her boob and pulled his hand from her pussy. When he pulled his hand from under her skirt they both saw that it was wet from her juices.He held his hand out to her. "Clean yourself off of me. I can't go to class with my had smelling like pussy."Looking at the clock. ‘Whoa! Never said you were. Didn’t mean to imply it either. Sorry if I offended you.’ Rosa calmed down. ‘Her father was Swedish, a blond god – like a Viking.’ ‘And he sailed off into the unknown?’ ‘No!’ She stared at the ceiling and he took the opportunity to admire the graceful line of her neck. ‘He was killed in a stupid race. He thought he could drive a racecar like Earnhardt or something. Well, he couldn’t.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ he said and this time she was able to read his expression and knew he meant it. ‘Oh . . . fuck!’ And she started to cry. ‘Drink your beer,’ he said. She tilted the can up and drank deeply. Then she was coughing, from the cigarette and the beer. He waited patiently for her to regain her composure. He got them each another beer. This time he opened it for her. She realized she had overreacted to his comment about her late husband and admired the calm way he had handled her. Not raising his voice, actually pretty much ignoring it entirely. ‘I promise I won’t be a.
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