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ENGLISH COMPOSITION Milo was nineteen years old and just starting his second semester at the university. The first semester had gone pretty well, three A’s and two B’s, so by his standards the freshman was off to a good start. He’d been a very average, bored and unmotivated student in high school, but the college experience had so far been challenging and enlightening, maybe even intimidating, but lingerie had evoked from him an ability to study and focus on schoolwork that he’d never known before. It was the first day of classes and this was Milo’s last class of the day. He was in Whitman Hall looking for room 222. This is where he would be taking English Composition…ENGL 101 in the course catalog…for the next three and a half months. This was a required course--every student, regardless of their curriculum had to pass it-- and since writing was one of his strengths he hoped to earn an A. He found the classroom and took a seat near the back. The room had five rows of six student desks and by the time class was supposed to begin all but four or five were taken. Right on time at three p.m. the instructor strode through Big Boobs the door and plopped her satchel on the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. Their teacher was an attractive woman of medium height. She had blond shoulder-length hair, layered and parted in the middle. Her body was slim and tapered and well-shaped from top to bottom. She wore a snug, short-sleeved black top that showed off her toned arms and firm breasts, and a cream skirt that did the same favor for her legs. ‘Alright!’, Milo thought, some eye candy. No matter how boring or tedious this class would turn out to be, at least he’d have something nice to look at. The teacher introduced herself and gave them a little background. Her name was Teresa; she had a M.F.A. When she was in grad school she’d married and had a child and took time off. When her daughter was old enough to go to school she had re-enrolled at the university, acquired her masters degree and was now working on her doctorate. She taught two classes: this one, English Composition, and another intermediate writing course. “I know you are all here because you have to be,” Teresa said. “It’s a course required of all students. Some of you may like to write, some of you may not, some of you may even despise it. But our goal this semester will be to make everyone in this class a better writer, and hopefully we will have some fun along the way.” Teresa then passed out the syllabuses and reviewed the course requirements with the class. There would be six writing assignments, a final and a student/teacher conference about two-thirds of the way through the semester. Attendance would be taken and is mandatory and blah, blah, blah. Milo was only half-listening because he was using his eyes more than his ears. He was staring at his teacher, and taking her in. He loved her pretty face, the soft cadence of her voice with its hint of a Southern drawl, and she had the look that he had always been attracted to: slim, blond hair, blue eyes. Milo was good-looking but was no Casanova by any means, in fact he was usually kind of shy, but he knew if she’d been a student he would find a way to get close. This was his teacher but he found himself staring at stockings her glossy lips as she spoke, and at her breasts sticking straight out, at her legs, mature at her butt when she’d pivot every now and then as she walked back and forth. And at the wedding ring on her Brunette left hand, he couldn’t ignore that. As he was leaving the classroom that first day Milo was enthused about the course and its instructor, and it didn’t hurt when he caught Teresa’s eye and she gave him a little smile on his way out. He already knew he was going to ace the course and his attendance would be 100%. The semester moved along quickly and the composition class was by far Milo’s favorite. He found the assignments very easy, and of course he was motivated to please his teacher. The papers were short, two or three double-spaced pages, and were very basic: a narrative essay, a descriptive essay, review a short story, a persuasive paper on a debate topic. He received A’s on every one and when the class would read and critique some of the papers…after grading each assignment Teresa would photocopy four or five anonymous student papers and pass them out…his work was usually one of the papers chosen. One time the class were discussing one of his papers and the students were saying, ‘I think she meant this, or she meant that’, and Teresa finally asked them why they thought a female had written it. "Oh? Laura ran her tongue around the inside of Erica's mouth, catching the last drips of semen and delightedly sucking them down her throat. “Men are coming,” I say unnecessarily. My husband bought it for me as a birthday present, not realizing just how much flesh it showed off. I stopped behind her, slid my fingers down her back, grabbed a succulent glute, and spread. Before she could climax though she stockings was snapped back to reality, as a wild cat, or dog or possum knocked something that was thrown away at some point in the alleyway. Her black mature hair was beautiful as ever and her nude lip gloss Big Boobs made him yearn to kiss her. Kathy step to the side so I can enter the lingerie house I walk in start to take my shoes off when Kathy told me I could leave them on, I said I hope I didn’t wake you up come here this early it was 9:00am. It occurred to me that the only other time I’d spoken to Julia was when I had my knife to her daughter’s throat, and now I was going to sexually torture her in front of sixty-thousand people. “Hello!” Sonja said happily. 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