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Joan Frazer hurried down the worn linoleum hallway of old Montock High School, books and her class record under one arm, a small can of film gripped tightly in her other hand. Her long, satiny brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders as she walked quickly, her form-hugging dress stretching tautly over her body and accentuating the fluid lines of her movements.
She had the body of a lush young Venus, even though she had recently celebrated her thirty-first birthday over the Christmas holidays. If the young boys and girls of Montock High had cared to take full notice of her charms–and some of them had sneaked long and admiring glances at her–they could have traced in detail her sensual curves and hollows through the pink velveteen dress she wore this day. Through its sheer, stretched thinness could be seen the outline of her white nylon brassiere, which barely hid the high-set roundness of her firm, full breasts whose rose-tipped nipples clearly punched against the covering fabric. The short-hemmed dress molded down over a slender, girlish waist and a flat, smooth stomach to a long, full-swelling thighs; and where the dress ended, slim curved legs tapered down to slender well-formed calves and ankles.
Miss Frazer’s rich dark hair framed an oval-shaped face that was almost classic in its cameo proportions. Her hazel eyes were deep-set and large, giving her an innocent appearance which belied her age. She had a dainty, slightly curved nose with a few small freckles dotted puckishly across its bridge, and her full ripe mouth had a lower lip which was almost perpetually set in a little-girl pout. The unmarried teacher was beautiful in a youthful manner that guaranteed to attract admiring attention from the most discriminating of men, and the dart-eyed envy of jealous, less well-endowed women.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.