A Story I Found On.....
Story by Chadwickster
A Story I Found On http://dwstudios.bloobunni.com/choose.html it is a really good story.....here it is, it is called
An Apple for the Teacher,
And A Whole Lot More in Return
by ASH
School. The children forced to go there call it prison, while the adults who run the establishment
refer to it as a center to promote the mental well being of all developing young minds. Yeah whatever.
A bright and cheery day in spring. The semester is almost over and summer is near. It's a day that
makes the kid in anyone want to run outside and just enjoy life. Unfortunatly today Alex had to view the
wonderful blue sky and brilliant sun light from within the confines of a poorly air conditioned and crowded
class room, with uncomfortable desks and chairs, most of which were ready to fall apart in the first place.
Armed to face the rest of the day with only his notebook and pencil, he waited for 5th hour to start.
With lunch over he began to feel sleepy and generally depressed. A 45-minute break from the grind was nice, even
if you did end up spending it eating the crappy food that the nearby fast food restraunts wouldn't feed to their
regular paying customers, or surfing the internet on the horribly outdated computers in the library, where
everyone was on the same 56k modem, so that the connection ran like molasses in winter. Aside from things like
that, jeez school could be just dandy.
5th hour was Alex's favorite, because it was his favorite subject, English, specifically, Literature &
Creative Writing. He always had his notebook and pencil around so he could write whenever something particularly
creative popped into his head, and now he had a class where he could actually get credit for doing it.
As a high school junior, he was still going through all of his prerequisites. He'd already gotten P.E.
out of the way...yeah, P.E. as a requirement, like they'll check that on your resume or application to college
("Let's see, first in your class with straight A's...but you never took Racquet Sports and can't do a pull up!?
I'm sorry sir we have no place for you here."). He personally hated science and math, sure they were interesting
at times, but they were so, set in stone. There was no life to them, they were bland, black and white
mathematics and facts. History, while not to different from math & science, held a certain appeal because you
obviously can't write too much good material if you don't know about any history or past events to base it off
of.
But now he was in a class where he felt he could let his mind go in a creative river that could run like
the Mississippi on a good day. However the class didn't feel complete until the teacher arrived.
There was no mistaking her entrance.
"Ms. Johnson..." He sighed to himself.
She was very tall for a lady her age, a good head taller than some of the football players, with long
brown hair that fell down past her shoulders, and glasses which perfectly framed her beautiful face and deep
forest green eyes. Despite her size she always had a graceful stride and an aura of pleasentness that always
seemed to draw quite abit of attention.
She was dressed in the usual today, thin-fabric beige button down long sleeved shirt, and an ankle
length blue skirt. He had no idea why fortune had smiled on him and the system had put him with this specific
teacher.
Ms. Johnson, was not only tall by the way, but also, well, well endowed. Her bosom could almost be
described as near collosal. They didn't even make bras to fit things like that, so everyone could often see the
outlines of her nipples and areolas through the material of what she wore on top. She also looked very strong,
like she could very well wrestle any one of the boys in the room. There was also one thing, some thing only Alex
knew of.
He had only felt it by accident one time. Getting from place to place during passing time was insane,
the hallways were packed like Communist China during rush hour, with idiots standing in the middle of the
hallways, and others walking too slow, while some of them blatantly walk on the wrong side of the hall way
making things ever more complicated. Well, one day he was on his way to Ms. Johnsons classroom, and he happened
to bump in to her, quite by accident, it was more like he was shoved toward her by an over agressive teen who
probably hadn't gotten his nicotene fix that day. Well when he bumped into her, his hand accidently brushed
against something that didn't quite feel like her leg. It felt thicker, warmer, and seemed to pulse for a bit
before he was giving Ms. Johnson her space, apologizing for bumping in to her, then dashing off to class trying
to figure out just what he'd stumbled upon there.
Ever since then he couldn't help but remember what he'd felt, especially when Ms. Johnson would somehow
sneak up on him and check what he was working on.
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