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Everything began at a literature lesson. Our teacher, Svetlana Valeryevna, was great today: on her there were a white blouse, a short short skirt, stockings and shoes - it was delightful. It is known that all guys in a class were lovesick according to her, sometimes it was even necessary to beat a muzzle to the one someone too zealously tried to flirt with her. Vaughan, Sashka still goes with a shiner though he only told that she very sexual, and I had a bad mood... Having come into a class, I felt that in trousers something began to move, it was necessary to pass quickly to a school desk. The lesson began, Svetlana Valeryevna sat down at a table, got a pile of notebooks with our compositions and significantly looked round a class. Our eyes met, and heart was clogged more often. Continuing to look me in the face, she opened the magazine and began to read estimates. - "Zhuravlev, two-two. Zhuravlev, you of what thought", - the voice of the teacher brought me out of catalepsy. - "no, about anything", - my voice slightly shook. - "two-two, the dull composition and at all not on a subject, grammar at the level of the first class, Zhuravlev, you over me scoff, you can me you will explain why at you in all objects it is excellent, and in my opinion - two", - she spoke quietly, and this scarecrow, more better she would shout. Well as I can explain to her that she to be pleasant to me, and thus I try to pay her attention to myself. Yes, the composition not on a subject, I in it wrote how be fine the love of the pupil to the teacher can. Grammar at the level of the first class: I agree, it was necessary to make specially mistakes and to turn off check of grammar in a Word. - "well that you stared at me what with you to do to me?", - my played imagination began to give erotic scenes one more beautiful another. - "you will remain after a lesson today", - my heart jumped up and was clogged more often, I will remain with her together. The second hand scoffed over me, is lazy jumping between divisions of the dial. The lesson lasted infinitely, I waited for a call. "Twelve forty five", "why the call doesn't call, they there that, fell asleep", - I overcame in myself desire to jump and find the watchwoman. Call. - "the lesson is finished, you can be free. Zhuravlev, be late", - I waited for these words and was afraid that they will be never said. The class became empty. Blows of heart were given in all parts of a body. - "Zhuravlev, sit down nearby", - I got up and went to a teacher's table. Svetlana Valeryevna's look lingered on my trousers below a belt and left aside. My person was filled by paint: I thrust hands into a pocket, trying to hold the raged flesh on the place. I sat down nearby. - "what you so reddened, just like a lamp on brothel?", - the teacher's voice slightly trembled, I couldn't but feel it. - "it is stuffy in a class", - I from myself squeezed out. - "well so open a window", - the teacher advised me. - "nothing, I will suffer", - the words were pledged hard, I couldn't appease in myself excitement. - "well as you want, explain to me please why the composition is written not on a subject?", - she was beautiful, my look rested on a skirt below a waist, there, where my thoughts wandered. - "where did you stare? And well look to me in eyes", - Svetlana Valeryevna's cheeks slightly reddened. I hardly tore off a look and moved it on the face of the teacher. - "stop staring at me, like a deer in the headlights! Where you climb, leave my leg alone", - it seemed, I didn't operate the body, hands were given to her leg and began to stroke it slowly. - "yes, Svetlana Valeryevna", - I continued to stroke her leg, moving ahead on it is higher and higher. Her breath became frequent. - "you that you afford!!!", - she sharply got up, pushing away me from herself. I got up and stood, having looked down to a floor. - "Svetlana Valeryevna... I... I love you...", - the words were pledged difficult more than ever. - "what did you tell? How old are you, the boy", - she was indignant. - "I am not a boy, I am a man!", - the voice became surer and firmer. - "well-well, you tell it to the mother! Man! And well, approach me", - I slowly approached her, expecting everything anything, from the words of contempt before slap in the face. - "we will look what you are a man", - she approached closer and began to undo buttons on my shirt. I grew dumb, I couldn't move any finger.