Ms Price
Ms Price started teaching social studies when I was in 4th form (Year 10). Fresh out of teacher's college, she was blonde, spunky and dangerously aware of it, though thankfully perhaps not aware enough as she chose to be very "friendly" with all the boys with flagrant disregard for their fragile teenage egos and massive sexual hunger.

Most of us have been hot for teacher once or twice so I don't need to go into too much detail: you'd always get a peek at the top of her g-string whenever she bent over to pick up the pen she'd drop at least once every class (if she wore one that day), she'd regale us with stories of how she was a cheerleader for the Otago rugby team and a "spokeswoman" for Speights (a New Zealand beer) while she was a student and her magnificent breasts were always on display whenever she was working at her desk so there was always a clamour for seats in the front row.

It turned out that she opened Pandora's box by toying with us uncouth savages as she had a nervous breakdown before that first year was up. No one knew exactly why, although it probably had something to do with all the sexual harrassment she brought onto herself. Rumours abounded that she was caught having an affair with a student and, while no one had any solid evidence to back it up, I'm SURE it happened and I'm still jealous of the bastard.

But the best part? At the time, my surname was also Price (child of divorce), which led to endless jokes about Ms Price and I being married. Still didn't do me any damn good though, so I guess it's true what they say about marriage killing your sex life.

Ms Price, wherever you are, thank you for the many, many glimpses of your rocking cans. It helped me through some tough times.

Length? She never knew...
(ElGranto, Sun 1 Feb 2009, 11:15, Reply)