I inspected every inch of him from head to toe and he had done the same. His thighs were lean and muscular and I loved tracing the lines of his muscle... till my fingertips would lightly rest against his balls. Even his balls were perfect to me.I smiled thinking of that and realizing I was goofy and in love. He had no hair on his chest and I loved the feel of its smoothness. I'd run my fingertips lightly over his nipples watching them grow hard. His fingers would curl in my hair pulling slightly. I hated our uniform: bottle green pleated gymslip, scratchy blouse, a tie even in summer, white or blue regulation knickers. In winter we wore tights but in summer we had to wear long white knee socks which I hated with a passion. It seemed ludicrous at 18 still to be forced into such outfits. We all wanted to dress up in stockings, to look like the adults we were.Anyway as we sat there that sleepy Friday afternoon, at the back of the class, I began day-dreaming about Miss Walters. About being. More

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