The look in the professor’s eyes was one of pure shock as she saw my erection. She recovered quickly and explained, turning away from me, ‘Now, dr...w what you see. Look past his naked body and get to his inner soul.’ Looking at her, her face was flushed, and yet there was no doubt she, like everyone else there, was staring at my cock. ‘And start drawing,’ the professor declared. I tried to remain stoic as instructed, my raging hard on the only thing moving on occasion as it involuntarily. "It's not easy being you," she confessed, as her coffee cooled. Eventhough she resided in my body, with my genes, she still liked her lattewith sugar and my coffee still had to be black - I'd always thought milktook the edge off a good brew. Taste must be wired up somewheredifferent from biology.She said, 'Everything of yours was so perfect, so organised. I don'tknow how you did it."Imagining the kind of mess she'd brought my flat, to my very existence,made me shudder.I didn't reply, so she. More

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