This was their first private session since their encounter in the library. Mr Owen had always been distant during lessons but lately she had noticed that the last few had been different. He was always teasing her about something or other; like her short skirts, how tight she wore her blouse or how low she kept it unbuttoned.

Betty enters the classroom today looking the picture of schoolgirl innocence, with her white cotton knee socks, white blouse and pleated skirt swirling around her thighs. As usual Mr Owen's waiting for her, wearing his nice smile. As he looks up from his desk, though, she feels a little nervous all of a sudden; as if he was boring a hole through her with his eyes. Instinctively Betty clutches her books tightly to her chest, trying to hide the fact that she's not wearing a bra. Now she wishes she had worn a jacket, but she had forgotten it in her locker.

Studying history with him was always good. That's what she liked about him the most. He wasn't stiff and boring like the other teachers she had. He had always treated her like an equal, never just a student. And he always had a reward for her when she did well.

Today's session seemed to be particularly hard to her, but she was doing OK. After doing well on a really difficult question, Mr Owen gave her a special reward, one that's definitely different from the others.

When Betty first felt his hands touch her, she jumped with surprise. But when his strong hands began to caress her shoulders all thoughts of history flew out of her mind. Instead of study her mind becomes filled with the feel of his hands, the scent of his cologne, even the sound of his breathing. Her mind in such a state of confusion that she doesn't notice as his hands roam to the soft spot at the nape of her neck.....(cont)