nope

The next day, Sam went to his gender studies class. Professor Essex wore a pair of black slacks, which were fitting more snugly now thanks to the added size to her butt and hips, and white blouse. She seemed uncomfortable, and Sam guessed it was because of the heightened sensitivity of her nipples. He also wondered how long she stayed up last night trying to get off before giving up in frustration.

As class went on, Professor Essex kept running an arm over her chest, trying to subtly relieve the discomfort in her nipples. Only Sam knew what she was doing. She went into a lecture about the use of sexual images in advertising that "helped perpetuate the patriarchy." She grew uncomfortable when talking about sex, and Sam knew why.

By the end of class, Professor Essex seemed like she was ready to rip her blouse and bra off. She was peppering her lecture with a lot of "uhs" and "ums." Finally she ended class early.

As Sam and the other students gathered their notebook, he head the girls behind him talk about how out of sorts Professor Essex was. "Sexual frustration," said Sam.

"Pig!" said Olivia, a tomboyish redhead.

"You're the type of cretin Dr. Essex talks about!" said Olivia's friend Emily, a petite brunette who always wore long skirts and kept her thick long hair in a bun. They stormed off.

"Might have some changes for you two," thought Sam. He also wondered how long he would let Professor Essex go before letting her orgasm. "Another week maybe," he thought. He could not wait to see how frustrated she grew. Sam then headed on.