It became possible to think about herand not experience just pain. I stopped caring. A good thing.And then, the letter."I know I have to thank you, yo... taught me how hard it is wishing just for theonly thing you can never have."The only thing she could never have.She could never have.Never have.Me.It was like a bad pulp romantic novel. I could smell the glue, the cheap painton greyish paper, the pages stuffed chockfull of cliches and stereotypes, thecharacters made of cardboard moved through. The receptionist obliged. Ian could see her latex panties had been thrust to one side and a wet pair of pussy lips were peeping through. She slipped her hand back down and recommenced frigging herself as she addressed the woman.'Miss Taylor,' said the receptionist, chewing her lip as a small moue of pleasure escaped and indicating Ian, 'Mr White is here on supply today.'Miss Taylor looked at him. 'I'm sorry that you haven't been welcomed appropriately to our school, Mr White. Please forgive our. More

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