I was in a mall at the billing queue when I saw a familiar face in the front. I immediately remembered her as my teacher Sharon. She hadn’t changed ... bit in 10-12 years. My gosh! I think she hadn’t put on a single extra kilo.Her dressing sense, too, hadn’t changed with the usual stringed blouse and saree below the waist, showing her deep white navel. My dick actually flicked a bit, seeing her. She was alone, and I greeted her from behind.Me: Hi mam, I hope you remember your student.Sharon: Hey. I'll pay quite a bit. I'm rich." Your dad is, you mean!" piped in College Kid Number One."Whatever. Really, dude, how much to fuck her? I'll pay it." Fucking is not for sale. Do you want your money back, or do you want to continue with the blow job?" Sorry, Dude. Chill! I'll take the blow job – it's fucking awesome. Better than any sorority chick, I'll tell you that. I was just asking."This exchange reminded me of the handgun holstered on my belt, in the small of my back under my jacket. I. More

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