Rate this story Miss Haversham. The most beautiful teacher in the school, even the world. Or, at least, that was what my adolescent hormones were telling me. She was always immaculately dressed in a perfectly pressed suit, her hair tied in a bob, and her glasses giving her the classic schoolmistress look. Today was hot, too hot to wear a jacket, so Miss Haversham had hung hers’ over her chair. Her blouse was expensive looking, and my beady adolescent eyes could track out the lines of her bra. She looked up from the work on her desk at me, I...
