Doggy Style Indian
I could, but the department head told me that I'd have to do some classroom time and a thesis. And yes, I have a list of classes. Food for thought.Making the remainder of my day is a visit to Mecca ... Uh, okay, the Engineering Department. And a couple of hours in the lab on that railgun thing. I was sipping a Coke, watching a bank of capacitors charging up. Time there, you know. Like filling a bath tub with a squirt gun. I texted Dan real quick."What's up for the evening? Plans?"He texted back. "No." Don't make any. I'm posting a black square on the community calendar. 'Us time'."I got a smiley emoticon in reply. Nope. Cindy is NOT going to neglect Dan. Or vice versa.Like the one time he walked into one of our sisterhood confabs, picked me up, tossed me over his shoulder, and walked out to the squeals and catcalls from the other three. Him grunting like a caveman added to the effect.As he walked up the sidewalk with me over his shoulder we passed Terri and Rachel. They stepped aside. Then one day my father had left his briefcase in the spare bedroom. It had come open. There was a magazine in it and on the bit of the cover that was visible I saw a woman’s leg. I remember how my heart pounded as I pulled it out! On the cover was a picture of a young woman wearing a white blouse and a dark skirt. She was squatting with her legs spread wide and the camera was pointed up her skirt between her legs, showing the tops of her tan stockings, bare thigh above, and white panties above that. I stared at that cover for a long time before I dared to open it. I couldn’t believe what I saw! My father often went abroad on business trips and this magazine looked like a foreign language hard core magazine, but I certainly didn’t mind that the words weren’t in English – the pictures nearly snapped my dick! Within seconds I’d discovered what women had between their legs, with the full range of hairiness from smooth shaven to full bushes, and I’d absorbed enough for many nights of.
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