This time, my hand was not alone! I distinctly felt someone playing with Master’s balls as I stroked him. When I moved my hand down to stroke his ...alls, this hand moved up to his cock! In the darkness, Master asked me, “Are you touching my balls?” and I answered, “not me, baby.” We had a third and didn’t even know it! As we kissed, I felt a hand move under his shirt, touch his chest and arms and play with his erect nipple. The fact that Master was also being touched by unknown hands. She walked up the stairs after him, keeping a close distance. On the second floor, she watched him as he entered the TA offices and headed for his cubicle. The TA offices were a room filled with cubicles, each unique to the TA who owned it. She had always admired Mr. Avery’s cubicle, a quaint dark shade of green on its walls, furnished with a small loveseat and an additional chair that overlooked Mr. Avery’s desk. A diploma frame on the wall read ‘Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing’ to. More

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