But she was glad it happened. He had stooped quickly at the same time to retrieve it, and his face nearly came up at the same time that her ass did. She caught him nearly swooning and said, "That's okay, Mr. Jeremy, you know I have the hots for you. I'll think of you tonight…"

She was creaming into her little panties and he was probably doing the same into his shorts.

"Uh, good-bye now," she murmured, unable to take her eyes off his sexy eyes and his playful smile.

"Good-bye, dear. I appreciate the invitation," he had said.

And now she thought of that little scene. It brought the slide rule to life. She pretended that Mr. Jeremy had touched it. She pretended that now, even now, it was his muscled fingers and hands that were tracing over her lovely curves, measuring her every twitch, every heave of her turned-on body.

Now he was measuring her tangents. Now he was finding her square roots, located of course in her pussy, her clit and her nipples. He was passing his hands over her logarithms.

She flit the edge of it over her clit, being careful not to hurt herself, and gave in to her own body's rhythm.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned softly, there in the dark, underneath the blanket.

And a little imagined balloon over her head had Mr. Jeremy sketched in the middle of it, watching her, and getting his own rocks off as he did so.

"Oh, Mr. Jeremy, I love you, I adore you," she said, her groin bumping and grinding to the rhythms of his logarithms. She tried to picture him with his wife. Oh, what did they do? She wondered. And how did they do it? She wanted to do exactly what they did. Oh, she felt so lonely.

Without her Mr. Jeremy, without her Manny, and sentenced to three weeks of hell in the dormitory, able to go out only for classes. Ugh!

Well, she still had her masturbatory techniques, and she still had her slide rule, and she still had an infinite variety of tools of masturbation.