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"Those fucking tits," he groaned, his voice a raspy whisper. "God, they were practically screaming to be let out of that blouse."He began to pump his hand, the friction creating a wet, sliding sound. He closed his eyes, projecting the image of the professor onto the ceiling."I bet they're heavy, aren't they, Dr. Thorne? I bet you have to adjust your bra every hour just to keep them from swinging while you write on the board."He tightened his grip, sliding his palm up and down the veiny length of his member. He could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the tension building in his thighs.