“She’s not a slut!” I yelled at him. “He didn’t say she was a slut. He just said she looks like a slut.” Suddenly we were at the door to the Art room and Jenny Christie was standing in the doorway. She was wearing a stretchy red top with a deep scoop neck. She had her arms folded under her amateur magnificent boobs. Her collection of tits and cleavage and nipples spilled out of her arms as she leaned down, sneering, and said to Russell: “Who looks like a slut, Mr Lane?” My anger vanished as I gawped at asian her yawning cleavage. My sleeping, dreaming self became vaguely aware of a spreading warmth in my pants as if I had wet myself. “Sorry, Ms Christie,” Russell was saying. “I know I shouldn’t use bad language. But it wasn’t me who said it. I was just telling Andy that my brother thinks Britney Spears looks like a slut. Andy’s got a poster of Britney Spears on his bedroom wall and she’s wearing this red, er, dress and . . .” I began to feel anxious that we were uniform going to get in a lot of trouble, because I could see now that Ms Christie’s japanese tight fitting red top was, in fact, a slinky red cocktail dress almost exactly like the one worn by Britney in the poster over my bed. I had studied that poster and I knew every detail. I knew that the faintest shadow of a nipple protruded through the sheer fabric over her right breast, but the left nipple was not visible. I knew that the front panel of the dress didn’t completely cover the pale white side of her right breast, but where it did the dress was a lighter shade of red. In short, I knew that Britney was not wearing a bra and the details of her right breast were deliciously obvious to the male gaze. As I now studied Jenny Christie’s right breast the same details emerged. In my dream, I felt my erection straining in my school shorts. “Are you right there, Hall?” snapped Ms Christie as she turned her sneer loose on me instead of Russell. The only interruptions was when Mark's father came to fetch the dog and when Maria called later in the evening. “The hermaphroditic Goddess of the Hunt?” I asked, making sure I remembered that correctly. Another round of cheer japanese was heard as he the feather on uniform my amateur breasts. My phone rang. “Oh, god, Dr. Elliston,” the MILF whimpered. I announced to all the people that they are now my subjects and will follow my rule. “Answer the question.” I said, my voice edging with my desperation. Our big brother. I tell you to reach down and touch Then let’s move on to the bitch." "Dad, I asian thought we settled that last night." the next three years they investigated rapes, molestations, prostitution I’ll get the goods.”