I was eighteen, she was thirty, I was a student in her English class, she was also my form tutor, we were very close, closer than students and teachers should be. She was beautiful, shoulder length dark hair, big brown eyes, full lips and gorgeous cheek bones, she had a figure to die for, her tight shirts and knee length skirts leave nothing to the imagination. You can see her white bra through her shirt, her full breasts peak over the top, my mouth goes dry every time I see her, I get a lump in my throat and butterflies in my tummy when she looks at me, I love how her hair falls in front of her face when she’s reading, the way she touches my hand when she’s talking to me, her giggle when I tell her a joke and the way her nose crinkles when she smiles, I was totally head over heels in love with her and there was nothing I could do about it.

“I think today we’ll start off with a bit of poetry, then go on to talk about Jane Austin, Pride and Prejudice today,” Miss Lopez quoted to the class. I looked her up and down with a gratifying smile, she was the most gorgeous women I had ever seen, she was totally mesmerising, she had me going crazy, completely out of my mind. She handed out the poetry books, when she passed mine she gave me the cheekiest smile and I swear she gave my a sly wink.

“Turn your books to page 13, and I want you to read the first two poems, and I want you all to analyse them and interpret what you think the poem means,” she told the class. They all started scribbling away, I still couldn’t take my eyes off her, she looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine, it felt like she was soaring into my soul, like she could see all my love for her bubbled up inside me. She broke my gaze and started to mark some work, I started to read, I tried so hard to concentrate but every word kept getting replaced by Miss Lopez, her face absorbed my mind, I could smell her perfume from across the room, she smelt so good. I just wanted to take her on the table, feel her soft skin against me, her lips on mine, her warm hands feeling my body, I could cry because I want her so much. I finally wrote down what I thought the poems meant, I just wrote a load of shit about how I thought the first one represented a heart that had been broken and its slowly being mended by someone new.

“Right times up, Sophie you go first, what do you think the first poems about,” she asked the shiest girl in the class. Sophie blushed, as she silently read out her poem, I don’t think any one in the class heard her.

“Thanks for that Sophie, next time maybe you could speak up a lot,” she said teasing, Sophie blushed even more, I giggled. Miss Lopez studied her students, waiting to pounce on her next reader, she looked straight at me, my heart melted, she smiled that ever so gorgeous cheeky smile and asked me to read my interpretation. I cleared my throat and read aloud.

“I think the poem represents a broken heart, especially the part where its says about the seams being ripped apart, and when it says about it being slowly sewing back together, it’s like the heart being mended