"Coming Miranda," Heather replied submissively, swinging her legs over the wrought iron fence and dropping to the ground awkwardly. "Bout time,"...Miranda huffed. "Sorry Miranda," Heather apologized, embarrassed by the lack of grace and athleticism in her eighteen year old full figured body. "Whatever," the pretty blonde said dismissively. "Let's go, it's almost midnight," she said, turning abruptly. Heather bent over, retrieving the back pack she had tossed over the. On her feet, she had open-toed leather sandals.Miss Martin was a walking wet dream, and to say she oozed sex would be like saying “Star Wars” was a movie with some space ships in it. She turned to the blackboard, and wrote her name for us to see, and as she wrote, reaching over her head towards the top of the blackboard, her butt jiggled, and her crepe dress swished, and I felt a tingly feeling in my gut as watched her. I don’t think I was Robinson Crusoe in that room, either, and I’m sure. More

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