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The Relic by Elrod W Hot, sweaty, exhausted. That and more. Mark silently cursed the jungle heat and humidity for the umpteenth time. Today was the last scheduled day of their dig, and Professor Manning was being a tyrant about getting every last bit of possible work done. Once the rainy season started, it would be impossible to get any work done as the jungle undergrowth turned to muck and slime. And the warning signs of a weather change were evident. So the archeaology team struggled to get this season's finds crated and loaded, and to secure the site against the jungle, the weather, and, hopefully, against thieves who might plunder the treasures and unwittingly ruin the tale of this lost city. Though every member of the team worked hard, it seemed to Mark that Manning was riding him particularly hard. At first, Mark didn't mind. But week after week of Professor Manning's constant criticism and belittling comments got on his nerves. Not that she didn't drive herself, and everyone, hard, Mark had noted. But the other grad students, especially Nichole, seemed to get off easy when it came to the verbal abuse. Mark wished, for perhaps the thousandth time this week, that he had gotten a different advisor. Then he caught himself. Again. Professor Manning, for all her resemblance to a bitchy iceberg, was the acknowledged expert in pre-Incan civilization. Mark had been interested in the Incan empire since he could remember, and when he was offered a fellowship to study for his doctorate under Manning, he had jumped at the chance. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he thought wryly. And, as women went, Professor Carol Manning was not that bad looking. Mid-thirties, short dark hair, nice figure (when it wasn't hidden by frumpy jeans and loose shirts), Mark noted again that, if she would only fix herself up, she would be quite attractive. And then there was Nichole. Whereas Manning almost deliberately tried to conceal her feminine charms, Nichole emphasized them. Long curly blond hair which was always impeccably done, she dressed in outfits which emphasized her generous bosom, tiny waist, and perfect butt. Even in this fetid jungle, Nichole was very sexy. But she seemed to dislike men intensely. Mark hoisted the crate up onto the truck, then wiped the sweat from his face. Then he wandered a few steps from the truck, in amid the trees, to relieve himself. Satisfied he was out of sight of the others, he stepped behind a large tree and was starting to unzip his trousers when something about the tree caught his eye. There was something in the middle of it, he noticed. The tree seemed hollow from this angle. He pushed away some of the leaves and vines, and stared. It looked like a marker post of some form, carved out of stone. Mark looked at it more closely. The markings were weathered, and filled with dirt and crud, and illegible. But the style clearly matched the dig site half a kilometer away. "Ryan, where are you?" Professor Manning's shrill voice cut through the humid jungle air. Mark jumped. She was close. He scrambled back to the truck, dismayed to find her standing atop the cargo bed. Her pet Nichole was beside her. "Goofing off again?" she sneered. "No," Mark answered defiantly. "Just taking a leak." He was pissed, and wasn't sure he should share the find. But he knew he had to. Knowledge demanded it. "I think I found something." "I would hope you could," Nichole jeered, a biting stab at his masculinity. Mark stiffened, anger welling up within him. "Up yours, bitch!" he mumbled to himself. "There's some type of marker stone," he began, his tone of voice deliberate and clipped. "Looks like a strangler fig grew around it." Manning was suddenly interested. "Could you make out any markings on it?" Mark led the way toward the tree. "There's some, but I couldn't make them out." Professor Manning was already studying the stone. She pulled a small brush from her pocket and began to work at the markings. She worked for a few moments, then, without looking up, spoke, her voice betraying a growing excitement. "This looks like it. This looks like the calender stone of the priests' sanctum." She turned up. "This is what we've been looking for!" Nichole and Mark understood together. Nichole spoke first. "That means ... if the stone is here, this was the entrance to the celebration plaza. We've been doing all our work on the wrong side of the temple pyramid!" Manning piped in. "Then these were sunset celebrations. Unlike the other pre- Columbian tribes, whose celebrations were oriented to sunrise!" She sat back on her heels, contemplating for a moment. She stood, barking orders. "Mark, start copying the text of that stone. Nichole, let's go back to the pyramid - I want to see if there is a twilight shaft." "Hey," Mark protested, "this is my find." Manning glared up at him, but Mark stood his ground. "Okay," she relented, "if you need to satisfy your macho ego..." Always a dig at his gender. The ceremonial chamber was dark, musty, and humid. Mark ignored these; they were looking for a lightshaft, where the setting sun would enter the chamber and illuminate special spots on the sacrificial table. At least they thought it was a sacrificial table - until a few minutes ago, they all thought this culture was sunrise oriented. Amid the dark stone walls, they couldn't find anything which resembled a light shaft. Then Mark hit upon the idea of searching the west face of the pyramid. Manning scoffed at the notion, but let him. "If you must..." she commented condescendingly. And so Mark scaled the pyramid; no small feat, considering its size. It always amazed people how such large structures could survive thousands of years, intact and hidden in the jungle. Most people had never been in the jungle. Mark reminded himself. He searched the flat top of the pyramid, and found nothing. Then he decided to try something. He leaned over the west edge, lying on his stomach and reaching as far over as he dared. Paydirt. There was an something - partially covered by rotting vines. He scraped away the vines, and found the light shaft. 'Score one for the guys,' he muttered to himself, truimphantly. When he had cleared away all the debris that he could, he took his flashlight from his belt, turned it on, and slid it, light first, into the opening. He scrambled up over the opening, and quickly descended the pyramid, back into the ceremonial chamber. Manning started to say something when he re-entered, but Mark cut her off. "Turn out your lights for a minute," he asked, panting. The professor and Nichole turned off their flashlights, and the room went dark. Except for one faint glow high up one wall. Manning whistled softly. This meant lots of work, reviewing and revising old theories about these people and their culture. And lots of grant money. Thanks," Nichole said sarcastically to Mark. "Two years work on my dissertation - shot." "Glad to help," Mark shot back. Then he paused. "What's that?" he asked. Up in the east wall, he saw something glint. He moved his head, and caught a tiny reflection again. The dim light from his flashlight had illuminated something high up one wall, something which had until now gone unnoticed. "I don't see anything," the professor said, looking upward. Then she moved enough to see it. "There," she said. She scrambled up on the ceremonial slab, still looking. "I can see it better. Looks like some kind of jewel or something." She reached. "Damn. Mark, get up here." "Think I can reach it?" Mark asked as he scrambled up to the slab. "No," Manning replied acidly. "You are going to boost me up." Mark shrugged, then cupped his hands for Manning to step in. She stepped up, balancing herself as she reached out. "A bit higher. Steady." Then she was silent, and still. Mark tried to look up, to see what was up. But she was already jumping down, holding something in her hand. Before Mark could look, she dropped to the stone floor, one hand already pulling her flashlight back out. The light snapped on. "Wow!" Manning exclaimed. "It's magnificent!" Nichole gasped. Finally, Mark got a look at the find. Magnificent was inadequate. The piece was an intricately worked disk of gold, about four inches in diameter. Carvings and pictograms covering its surface; they would hopefully tell its story when decoded. In the center, however, were seven jewels, carefully arranged; a large seemingly flawless diamond in the very center, surrounded by three large emeralds and three rubies, each about half the size of the diamond. Each of the jewels was carefully cut, and the facets sparkled in the dim light of Manning's flashlight. Manning was back to business as usual. "Okay, we've stared at it long enough. Mark, get measurements of the position of the opening, the sun angle, the position of the jewel, and so forth. We need to be able to calculate the illumination times." She spoke as if he were a novice, when in fact, he had already begun making sketches in his field notebook. "You got anything yet?" the professor asked - demanded, really. She was, as usual, staring over his shoulder. They had been back from the field for two weeks now, back on campus, with their labs, computers, their own homes and apartments (no tents!). But no letup from Manning. Or her pet, Nichole. Mark pulled up a chart on his computer. "If my estimates are correct, the piece is illuminated once, and only once, each year. Precisely on the sunset of the summer solstice." "Are you sure?" Manning sounded upset by this news. Mark nodded. "I've checked the calculations three times. Summer solstice, at six pm, local time." Manning shook her head, just as Nichole walked in. "That doesn't make any sense. The pictograms all point to this as a fertility chamber." Mark nodded his agreement. "And fertility rites for agricultural people are always in the spring, before planting." "Then you've made a mistake somewhere," Nichole said acidly. Mark turned from the computer, fighting his intense dislike for Nichole. "You are more than welcome to try it yourself," he spat through clenched teeth. Manning turned to Nichole. "Have you figured out any of the pictograms, yet?" She discounted Mark and his surprise find as insignificant and unworth of her continued attention. Nichole bit her lip. "Nothing that makes any sense." Mark let the comment pass. "It seems to translate as something like 'the priest conceives and bears the child of the virgin, which is sacrificed to appease the god of fertility.'" Manning stepped over beside her, as Mark rose from his terminal to stretch. He opened the shade, and glanced out over the campus. Too nice of a day to have wasted in this lab, he found himself thinking. Manning held up the original piece, next to the drawings they had made. "Well," she began, "it doesn't look like we made any errors transcribing it." She bit her lip. "This shows what looks like a priest, with a woman - the virgin? - then some sort of ray." Nichole nodded. "I couldn't figure that part out either," she agreed. Neither of them noticed that the sun, slowly setting, tracing a golden sliver of light across the room, moving slowly toward the relic. Until the light finally struck the mysterious piece. Mark felt like the room had exploded in lights - dancing red and green and white lights, engulfing him, confusing his senses. And then the moment passed. He looked up, shaking his head to clear it. Professor Manning and Nichole were doing the same. At least he wasn't halucinating, he thought with relief. "What was that?" Nichole asked, surprised, and a little scared by the experience. Manning steadied herself on the desk. "Optical refraction from the jewels? I don't know." She was clearly rattled by the experience. "Shut the shade. I don't want to see it again." Mark drew the shade shut. If Manning hadn't asked him to, he would have anyway. Nichole stepped to the door. "Be right back," she announced as she closed the door behind her. Mark stared after her. His vision blurred, then cleared again. "Professor?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice. She looked - different. Mark wasn't sure what, but there was something different. She turned to him, then Mark realized what it was. "Your hand..." he said, staring. Manning looked at him, then followed his stare to her hand. She dropped the paper she was holding. Her hand was larger. Not at all a fine, delicate female hand. It was much more - masculine. And there was hair on it. Dark hair. And ... was she taller? Manning frowned. "Mark ... your hair!" Manning was startled by her own voice. It was ... husky. Mark reached up for his hair, glancing his hands as he did. His hands were fine, delicate, small. Fingernails were growing, even as he watched. Then his hands got to his hair. It was hanging low, already at his eyebrows, and still growing! He tried to brush it from his eyes, a futile gesture. But he looked at Manning again. He gasped. She was definitely taller. Her hair - shorter and shorter it got. And her chest! Her boobs were - vanishing! Even as he watched, they shrunk! Manning noticed it too! She clutched at her breasts, even as she felt her shirt tighten across the swelling muscles of her chest. The breasts were shrinking - getting smaller and smaller. Mark stared, horrified. Then the door burst open, and Nichole scrambled in, slamming the door behind her. Her? Nichole's hair was gone - a short crew-cut was all that remained. She was taller, with a broad, muscular chest. Her blouse was ripping apart as her manly, muscular arms swelled. And on her chest! There were only small mounds where her once voluptuous breasts were! She stared at Carol and Mark, dazed and frightened. Mark realized that he, too, was changing. Knowing with a sickening certainty what he would see, he steeled himself and glanced down. He had boobs! His hands clutched at them - small, firm, conical, and he felt them growing beneath his hands! Mark looked back at Professor Manning, dazed. But Manning wasn't looking at him. Nichole had dropped her skirt - before it was torn apart by the rippling muscles of her abdomen, no longer the small waist Nichole had once had. In her panties, tight on her hips, Mark and Carol Manning saw a bulge. Nichole pulled her panties away, staring into her crotch. She opened her mouth to scream. But no sound came out. As she stared, her hips, still growing to more manly proportions, split her panties. The cloth dropped to the floor. Mark, Carol Manning, and Nichole stared, watching in morbid fascination as a penis, already large, grew and swelled between Nichole's legs, dangling longer and longer as testicles descended into a scrotum beneath the organ. Nichole looked up to Manning, and saw her staring, rapt, at her own crotch. There, too, hung a penis. Not as long or as stout as Nichole's, nevertheless, Manning was holding, almost tenderly cradling, a male organ! Nichole and Manning looked at Mark. He sat in his chair, paralyzed with fear. If these two women now had dicks, he found himself thinking, then he - already growing breasts - must have... He couldn't complete the thought. But even as he contemplated what he knew to be the truth, his hand, of its own acord, slid slowly down to his crotch. He pressed, felt, probed... nothing! There was nothing in his crotch! He stood, hoping to feel it dangle, but it didn't! Instead, his pants and underwear felt sloppy around his waist, as if it were suddenly much narrower. But his hips were clearly wider, his ass rounder, and his pants were very tight. Mark tugged the pants down around his feminine hips and dropped them to the floor. He lifted his shirt- tails, and craning his neck to see over his new boobs, confirmed his worst fears. His dick was gone! In its place - he felt, to see what he would find. Two folds of skin, outer lips. Between them, his fingers found inner lips - he let out a soft cry when his finger rubbed over the clitoris! - and, between the lips, a vagina! Mark looked up, horror-stricken. And saw Nichole and Manning, both ignoring him, and holding their new male organs. Nichole moaned, a low, masculine sound, as her hand felt the swelling of desire within her large penis. She trembled as her hand wrapped around her growing shaft, feeling new sensations as her hand began stroking the new organ. Manning, too, was almost automatically stroking herself, her dick swelling with manly need. Mark found himself absently rubbing his finger over his pussy, feeling the warmth and wetness within him as the desire increased, helpless to stop himself, his other hand cupping and cradling one of his new, enormous breasts. He heard himself moan with pleasure, a high, feminine squeal of delight, as he felt waves of ecstacy engulf his body, starting with his hot, wet pussy, and radiating outward. His back arched involuntarily, thrusting his large breasts upward and outward, as he rubbed his clit, feeling his hot juices seeping from his vagina, warm with need. More insistently, more urgently, he pressed and rubbed, until finally his body was overcome by the pulsating delight of his first female orgasm; he felt his vagina quivering, contracting in time to the pleasure sweeping through him. As the orgasm started to subside, Mark realized that Carol and Nichole were both staring at him, their eyes filled with lust and desire. Helpless to resist the desires stirred by the magical change, Mark stood, pulling off his shirt as he did, exposing his large, voluptuous breasts, his big brown, erect nipples. His hair, golden blond, draped down over his chest, touching the breasts lightly as he stepped out of his pants, swaying tantalizingly. And then the frenzy began. Mark, Carol, and Nichole, unable to control their primal passions, interlocked their bodies, Carol and Nichole fighting for position to insert their desire-swollen penises into Mark's dripping vagina. Carol pushed Mark against a desk, and her large, masculine hands grabbed his tiny, firm butt and lifted him from the ground. Mark's legs were parting, desire hot within him, as Carol stepped forward, her engorged dick pointing at Mark's pussy. He felt his lips part as Carol's dick slid slowly, deliberately, up and into his vagina, feeling so large and firm! Mark moaned with pleasure as Carol thrust her manhood deep within him. Mark felt another orgasm ripple through his new vagina, felt his muscles tighten againt Carol's large, firm shaft, as she thrust deeper and deeper into him, until she exploded, shooting her load of cum into his pussy as pleasure and delight filled her. She moaned softly as the orgasm subsided, feeling still the pulsing as she pumped her juice into Mark, and the rippling of his vagina muscles as they eagerly received it. Then Nichole pried Carol free of Mark, and pressed against him, her hands clutching desperately at his butt, pulling him onto her huge, waiting shaft. Too big! Mark thought to himself as the enormous cock pressed into his pussy. He felt himself stretching, sliding eagerly around her big organ as she thrust herself into him, overwhelmed with desire. Roughly, Nichole pumped, in and out, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, and Mark felt another wave building in him, more pleasure as Nichole's large organ stimulated him from within. As she began pulsing her dick, squirting hot juice, Mark's body trembled with excitement and pleasure. Somehow, the trio made it back to Professor Manning's townhouse, their clothing inadequate, tattered, and thoroughly mussed, Carol Manning bearing the relic. As Carol closed and latched the front door, Mark caught a glimpse of himself - herself? - in the hall mirror. His jaw dropped, surprised by the face - and body - reflected in the mirror. He had seen the change in Carol, and in Nichole. They were both strong, handsome men, although Nichole now looked more like a Greek god. Nichole was taller by a few inches, and more muscularly built. And hung! Mark remembered. Carol, on the other hand, was more average of build, less imposing physically, but with a commanding presence nonetheless. And Mark! If these two women were handsome as men, then he was ... gorgeous. A knockout. He pulled his shirt off for a better view. His hair - straight and blonde - hung to just above his big round nipples. And those breasts! Large, firm, hanging so pleasingly and swaying so delightfully as he turned. D cups? Double Ds? Whatever the size, they were magnificent. As he examined them, he felt Nichole slide up behind him, her arm reaching around his waist, her large, manly hand cupping his breast. Mark let himself collapse against her firm chest, tilting his head to the side as Nichole began to kiss his neck and nibble on his ear teasingly. Even as Nichole's free hand slipped down to his crotch, Mark felt the desire within him start to well up anew, and his hand reached behind him, feeling desperately for the firmness in Nichole's crotch, knowing that she was swollen with desire and need. Mark gasped in surprise - Nichole had already slipped off her clothes (his clothes, actually) and he felt her throbbing shaft pressing against him, even as Nichole and Mark raced to unfasten Nichole's skirt, wrapped now around Mark's swaying hips. Mark's hips were swaying out of his control, now, as his pussy grew hotter and wetter with desire. He felt Nichole's huge dick rubbing in his back, between his cheeks, pressing firmly against him. Then Nichole slid her shaft under his crotch, and Mark felt the warmth against his hot, wet pussy. He slid himself against the hard dick, rubbing his clit as his pussy juice flowed over Nichole's firm shaft, his breathing getting deeper and deeper, his eyes closed with desire. Nichole, knowing that the orgasm in Mark had begun, slipped and shoved, and thrust her huge dick up into Mark's waiting vagina, feeling his muscles contracting against her large firm organ. Mark saw Carol walking in front of him, naked and erect with desire. As Nichole thrust herself deep within Mark's pussy, Carol grasped his head, and lowered it slowly into her own crotch. Mark saw the dick bobbing toward his mouth. He knew he should be repulsed, should feel shame and horror at having an erect dick thrusting toward his mouth, expecting a blow-job. But those feeling were absent. He recognized that he should have them, but all he felt was a need to give pleasure by sucking the dick, and he opened wide instinctively, kissing and licking it as Carol held his head. From behind, Nichole continued to thrust, deeper and deeper, and Mark slid his lips over Carol's dick, eagerly taking it in his mouth. He slid his lips over the head, in and out, feeling Carol grow bigger within his mouth, feeling her stiffen, knowing that he was driving her wild with desire. He couldn't tell who came first - Nichole or Carol. Both stiffened, thrusting deeply and wildly, as Mark's hips swayed against Nichole and his lips danced over Carol's dick, until both came, spraying their hot juice into his pussy and his mouth. Eagerly, Mark swallowed the cum, licking and sucking to get every drop from Carol's pulsing, throbbing erection. And then Carol and Nichole switched positions, Carol now thrusting her dick furiously into Mark's pussy, while Nichole held Mark over her lap, letting Mark's lips stimulate and caress her still-swollen penis, all three overwhelmed by a desire such as they had never felt. Mark's eyes opened, and instantly, he knew. He, in the female body, was nestled between Carol and Nichole, naked and masculine, lying on Carol's bed. He rolled a bit, feeling his boobs jiggle on his chest. His boobs! Wow! He remembered the sensations when Nichole and Carol had kissed and licked them! How firm, how erect the nipples were! His hands slid up to them, cupping and caressing them, shivering with delight. And his pussy! Words could not describe the feelings! How large, and how firm Carol and Nichole had been! How many times had they made love? He couldn't remember. Without thinking, his hand slid down to his crotch, rubbing gently, feeling the warmth and the desire spreading again. He heard a soft moan beside him, and glanced at Nichole, lying serenely next to him. Mark looked down, and saw Nichole's large dick hanging limp. Mark felt himself stir within, the desire strengthening, his hand still massaging his crotch, until he couldn't stand the need. He reached out tenderly, touching and caressing Nichole's dick. Immediately, she responded. Still half-asleep, Nichole rolled onto her back, her dick pointed straight up as it stiffened and grew in response to Mark's touch. As her eyes fluttered open, Mark smiled, then rolled himself over on top of Nichole, his warm wet pussy rubbing against Nichole's firm shaft. Nichole moaned with pleasure as her hips began thrusting, pushing herself upward again and again, wanting to slide her dick into Mark. Smiling, he lifted himself, then lowered his wet vagina onto Nichole's dick, feeling the warm, firm shaft sliding deep within him. The stirring awakened Carol; she saw what was happening, and sat up, her face against Mark's breast, her tongue darting around the large firm nipple. She pulled Mark's hand into her lap, and he felt her growing, swelling within his hand as he began stroking, caressing, massaging Carol's dick, all the while sliding up and down on Nichole's firm shaft. They all felt the desire, the need, building in them, more and more. None of them saw the sliver of dawn light as it glided across the dresser, slowly creeping toward the relic. Then it struck the relic, and the light exploded in the room again. Even as the orgasm gripped Mark, he felt the disorientation of the dazzling light. Mark felt Nichole's dick shrinking within him, even as he felt his pussy pushing it out. His boobs, swaying like pendulums as they had fucked, were already shrinking, growing smaller even as his body grew back to its original proportions. He felt the last rippling within him, the last gasp of a female orgasm, then he felt his dick growing, hard and firm, full of desire. Below him, Nichole grew wet and hot, full of desire, as the dick vanished and her vagina reappeared. Carol, too, morphed quickly back into her original body, Mark's now large hand still in her crotch. Beneath him, Nichole pushed. Mark rolled off her, uncertain what would happen, but Nichole and Carol surprised him. Nichole pushed him firmly onto the bed, then practically leaped on him, straddling him as her hot wet vagina pressed against his firm dick, sliding up and down, making him wild with desire. When he thought he could take no more, she convulsed, screaming softly with pleasure as the orgasm rippled through her. Mark thrust himself up, into the waiting pussy, feeling it contracting around him, pulsing, as if begging his erect dick to spew forth. He began pumping, up and down, watching Nichole's breasts bobbing as she swayed, her pussy still throbbing with orgasmic contractions. He felt the excitement building within him, knowing that he would explode soon. And then Carol's vagina slid over his face, and Mark knew that she, too, was moist with desire. His tongue darted forth, touching her lips and clit, sending shivers of delight through her, even as he pumped into Nichole. As Carol screamed with ecstacy, Mark knew that he could wait no longer either, and he shot his hot juice into Nichole. Mark dragged himself up from the bed. How long had he been asleep? From the living room, he heard Nichole and Carol talking, discussing what, he didn't know. He did know that, after eating Carol and fucking Nichole, they had switched positions, nearly exhausting him, until he finally collapsed, asleep, on the bed. Mark swung his feet over the edge of the bed, then looked for something to pull on. Finding nothing, he shrugged, then trudged slowly to the living room, naked. "Oh, look, who's awake," Nichole sang out. She smiled. "We thought we might have killed you," she said teasingly. Carol glanced at Nichole and giggled. Mark smiled. "It'd take more than the two of you to do that," he joked. Carol feigned surprise. "Is that a challenge?" She suddenly held up the relic, menacingly. "Or should we light this up, and see if you could do that to us?" Mark slid into a chair, grinning. "Either way. Makes no difference to me." Carol grinned back. "That was some fantastic evening," she agreed. "I never knew it could be so ... so exciting to be a man! So big ... so full of need!" She sighed. "And you ... you were so ... so sexy. So exciting!" Carol shivered with delight at the memories. Nichole was nodding vigorously in agreement. Mark shifted in the chair, embarassed. "You two were fantastic," he agreed. "It was so wonderful being a woman." He actually blushed at the memory of how he'd enjoyed it. "Of course, you were pretty fabulous as women, too," he admitted sheepishly. Nichole gave him an impish grin. "Would you like to try again - woman-to- woman?" Mark was surprised. "But..." he stammered. Suddenly, he realized the meaning. "If just I was exposed..." Nichole and Carol smiled in answer. Then Mark realized something else. "But that means you are...lesbians?" Nichole shared a quick glance with Carol. "No, bi." She slapped Mark's arm, grinning suddenly. "You should know that!" Carol got a far-away look in her eyes. "This does explain those strange pictograms," she said absently. She got up, and carried the relic over by Mark, and sat in his lap, surprising him. He wrapped his arm around her, then found his hand brushing against her breast. Timidly, he slid his hand over her breast. Carol smiled. Nichole came over to Mark as well, kneeling beside him, and resting her head on his shoulder. "Yes, but they only did it once a year," Nichole grinned. "How boring! We figured out how to do it anytime!" Mark smiled to himself, cupping his professor's breast while Nichole rubbed his thigh. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad semester after all. The end? Maybe not.....