Going For The Grope

I like working in my office at Uni, surrounded by the other postgrad nerds and away from the endless distractions and possibilities of my house (bed, stereo, housemates, proximity to pub). It is cosy to sit in a corner with my papers piled around me, listening to whispered conversations from the kitchenette and the sound of fingers clicking on keyboards, wandering off to the library and getting coffee to take back to my desk and drink while I conjure up some sort of academic magic (or whatever it is I do here). The folk around here tend to keep to themselves, with chat limited to the printer room or whilst making cups of tea. This lack of attention suits me well...

For I have just realised that when I start typing about milk, especially when I haven't pumped for a while and am getting all tingly with anticipation, I have a tendency to absentmindedly have one hand fondling at my tits. Oops. Oh well, if I get any stares I'll just clutch at my chest while muttering something about my angina. That ought to stifle any suspicion of impropriety :)