re:new-41

There stood Mrs. Pertwee. She looked perfect, each of her features showing off her intense beauty. She was wearing a pink blouse and a pencil skirt, both of her long, sexy legs being covered by a pair of elegant stockings. For a teacher, she looked surprisingly young. Her face had no wrinkles or imperfections. Perhaps she truly was perfect.

In comparison to you, at least. Your name was Mark, your age: 19. You had an average height, average weight and average body. There was literally nothing special about you, apart from a large burn on your right arm from an accident in one of the science labs. You had fairly long hair for people your age, reaching the nape of your neck.

"... Mister Newman? Are you listening to me?" Your teacher asked, standing in front of your desk and looking down at you with a mildly annoyed look. "Are you done daydreaming?"

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you jolt your head. Being so close to you, you could just make out the shape of her bra. "Uh... yeah, sorry."

"Anything you want to share with the class, Mister Newman?" She asks. "You were daydreaming for a while there. What was on your mind?"

Your eyes widen and you splutter out, "N-nothing, Miss!"

Tutting, Mrs. Pertwee walks away to the front of her desk. She sits down on it, crossing her legs and reading to the class from a small book. Time seems to slow as she reads, the book filling your head with meaningless nonsense about the concept of time-travel.

Eventually, the lesson ends. You get out of your seat, collect your belongings and follow the other twenty students in heading to the entrance of the school.