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" I've had a lot of practice," I interrupted, grumpily. I felt myselfblushing. "Never mind that. I want you to tell me about some of theseold photos." Oh," he said, his face falling. "Where did you find those?" It wasn't easy." I explained about my current quest for Ingrid'sbackground. "But the most recent of these albums finishes about eighteenyears ago. My mother seems to have stopped keeping photos not long afterI was born." I'm sure it was nothing to do with you, old son." He chuckled. I raisedan eyebrow. "Sorry, it's just that you don't look like anyone's sonnowadays. Old, maybe..."He chuckled again. I folded my arms under my bust; an Ingrid gesture ofdisapproval that was thoroughly ingrained in me by now. Fred recognisedthat look."OK then, but I'm going to need a drink. What can I get you?"I requested a glass of red wine. He got himself a whisky and soda. Hebrought the drinks over and came to sit down beside me. I scooted along,tidying my skirt as I slid.He. Not in public. Not in this situation. But under the cover of darkness I dare to carefully massage her thighs and run my hands over her knees. I go back up and softly touch the inside of her thighs. The professor kisses the young woman and his hands wander up between her legs into the forbidden shadow of her mini skirt. You should always do what your professor does. Therefore, my fingers move further up until I feel her undies. I hear a little moan from my date but otherwise the student and my friend both just sit there with legs open while the professor's and my fingers running up and down the crotches of two amazing women. The student suddenly stands up and slowly removes her stockings. She has never worn any panties - just stockings and suspenders. While she tortures the professor with a striptease she stares at him half mocking,half lascvicious. Suddenly my date jumps up and walks out. I am confused and disappointed. I played a game and I lost. Should I follow her? There was a big.
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