I felt her skin and considered the velvety texture of it, even on the bottoms of her feet. It was different now. The softness…it seemed as though sh... had not walked at all to get her, and this struck me as being strange. This adolescent, grown-up lady, stuck her breasts majestically, so that I could see them in their fullness and perkiness. I was a great lover of large, buxomness and joyed by the sight of these mammaries – maybe 38D or even E. Yet she carried them like an aging expensive hooker. How would she react? Would she not speak to me for a long time? I hated this. All because I had left my fucking door unlocked. Still, why did she just barge into my room? I never did that to her when she was in her room.“Nathan,” my English teacher, Mrs. Pruett said. I looked up from my desk. Mrs. Pruett had the uncanny resemblance of Umbridge from the popular Harry Potter book series. And she acted almost exactly like her. “Yes, maam?” I mumbled. “Do your work, Nathan,” Mrs. Pruett huffed,. More

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