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 indicate Mr. Avery was already deep into his doctoral studies, unlike many of the other TAs who were only MA or MFA students. This also meant that he taught multiple classes, while many of the master’s students and TAs only taught one. He taught three, in addition to his doctoral work. She admired Mr. Avery’s vast abilities to keep his studies in order while also committing to providing quality instruction to three classes of 25 each. She let herself into the TA offices and made her way toward Mr. Avery’s cubicle. It was at the far end of the room. Once there, she slowly crept her way around toward the opening that led into the cubicle. It appeared that Mr. Avery was deep in thought, his head over a manuscript, examining it closely. He had no idea she had. It was plump and well shaped, probably my best asset. I moved away from the mirror to lie down on the bed, unsnapping my bra and tossing it aside on the way. The cool sheets felt great and I started rubbing my nipples, remembering the way he had done it, switching back and forth, growing my arousal further. I kept one hand on my right nipple and drug my left down to my thong, pulling it aside so I could rub my wet pussy. I spread my legs and bent my knees slightly, my middle finger coming to touch my clit and rub around it slightly, feeling how soaking wet my pussy was. My mind went to how good his cock had felt in my mouth how wonderful his hands had felt on my nipples and I knew I wasn’t going to last long. I added my index finger to my middle one and started rubbing my clit faster and faster. I stopped, not wanting to cum too quickly and brought both hands to my tits, each rubbing a nipple, prolonging my pleasure and making my pussy ache to be touched. When I could take it no.
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