Miss Appleton carefully pinned up her long dark hair before leaving her apartment for her first class of the day. Reflected in the mirror, she saw a pretty oval face with deep-set blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes. Her creamy complexion needed almost no make-up, and Alice contented herself with applying just the slightest bit of lip gloss to her small but perfectly formed lips. The somber-toned charcoal-grey dress molded well to Alice Appleton's curvaceous figure, but not too closely. Alice preferred the more conservative approach to everything, and she knew that she was admired at the school because of it. She was an excellent teacher of English, and the young twenty-three year old took great pride in her work with the boys of the Scotsdale School. This was the attractive brunette's second year now at the school, and Alice felt that she would like to stay for a long, long while.

It was easy to spend most of her time studying, planning lessons, and correcting papers. That way the pretty dark-haired teacher had little time to think of the past. Even so, however, there were moments when that past pressed into the present, bringing with it unwanted memories.

This was one of those disturbing moments, and Alice blinked her eyes rapidly at her own reflection in the mirror, when she realized that she was no longer thinking of the class that was to come, but of him.

Martin's hands running over her soft exposed skin, there in the fresh night air; the feel of the blanket beneath her; the longing in her loins as she felt him pressed closer and closer to her trembling body. How good it had been to lie back, her head feeling the bumps of the grass against the blanket and up above, beyond Martin's hovering form, the night sky and the stars, and then the feel of her skirt being pulled up, the sound of her own acquiescent sigh as her flimsy silk panties were eased down over her trembling thighs, and she knew what was going to happen.