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I’ll never forget the day my panties became so drenched during Professor Thompson’s lecture that I had to sneakily press a folded tissue against my crotch to absorb the excess moisture. It all started when he began to teach us about human anatomy, standing close to the podium, his broad frame dominating the front of the classroom. As he gestured to illustrate a point, his large hands brushed against his pants, and I could unmistakably make out the prominent bulge straining against the fabric.
Throughout the lesson, I found myself staring, mesmerized by the way his powerful thighs flexed or how his dark eyes sparkled with intellectual fervor. My mind raced with forbidden thoughts, and before I knew it, my panties were clinging to my pussy, the crotch saturated with arousal. I squirmed in my seat, trying to subtly relieve some of the pressure building inside me. Continue reading “Wet Panties”







