I picture him curling his finger at me and I walk up to his desk. He shoots a glance at the desk and I make my way on top of it, my legs on either sid... of him. He puts the book to the side. He slides his hands up my calves then up the outer edge of my thighs. In the fantasy I’m in a skirt. He pulls my panties down and I bend my legs so he can fully take them off. In real life, I slide my panties down and off my legs. I bend my legs and spread them wide. My hand moves slowly down my stomach. He. Antsys wanton moans followed me as I staggered out of the room. I stumbled down the hall and leaned against the wall. My legs gave out and I slid down the wall to the carpeted floor and sobbed into my hands. What had happened to my randy stallion? Why didnt he want his naughty filly? Did I do something wrong? No, it was the grief. Just be patient, Mary. Just be supportive. Grief does weird things to people. The drive to Seattle was strained. I was wearing the sluttiest dress I had, a slinky. More

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