We put our arms around each while we embraced, rolling our tongues together. I slipped my hand under her skirt, feeling the firmness of her ass throug... her panties.“Wait a second,” she said, drawing away from me and stepping in the bathtub.She faced me, lifting her skirt up around her thighs, exposing her little white cotton panties hugging tightly to her pussy. She looked at me coyly, her eyes encouraging me to touch her, which I did. I ran my hand up and down her inner thighs a few times and. Maybe I should just leave and you make up your own fantasy.The year is 1979. I was an assistant professor in philosophy and Molly was a senior, only six years younger than I. Molly was 22 and brighter than I've ever been. 5'6", long brown hair and eyes that spoke volumes. Small breasted, she usually went braless and often wore t-shirts and Indian skirts. We were friends and lovers and although I had a role in "corrupting" her (getting her used to working toward her own pleasure instead of. More

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