She looked up at the handsome teacher. He smiled and it seemed to Amy that he simply drank her in. His eyes gazed hotly at her tits, her waist, her legs.

She smiled bashfully.

During Mr. Lane's lecture, Amy thought he was looking at her a lot, and she liked his attention. It was her first experience in a classroom where the teacher glanced at her so often, his eyes admiring and appreciative.

I think he likes me, she thought.

He indeed did like the darling lass.

Who wouldn't have liked Amy? She was such a young beauty, so luscious and curvy. Her face looked as though it had been sculptured to perfection. Her thick, young lips were pouty, pink.

The bell rang and she got up to leave.

Mr. Lane sat back in his chair behind the desk at the front of the classroom. He watched the students file out.

Amy passed his desk and he smiled at her. He returned the smile, and she trembled. After school, Amy went to the football field with the other girls trying out for cheerleader and went through the routines. She wore blue shorts, a white T-shirt, white tennis shoes.

She looked good, bending, dancing, swinging her hips. She wanted so much to be a cheerleader. Maybe it was because she had never had a father, but she wanted male attention, needed it, sometimes craved it.

When she returned home, she found a note from her mother that she would be late.

I have a date with Carl. Be home late.

Love, Mom.

Her mother had been dating Carl for about six months. He was president of a large trucking company. Janet, Amy's mother, was very interested in Carl.

"Although I have a good job, we have lots of expenses, Amy," she had said one time. "I can't keep you in private schools, send you to college, buy clothes, all that, unless we have help. Maybe Carl will want to marry me. He is rich, Amy. Very rich."