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She showered and put on fresh jeans and a t-shirt over her underwear. The kids would be home in a few minutes and she needed to get her clothes into the washing machine. She hurried downstairs with the clothes and went straight to the laundry room, throwing them into the machine, adding a bit of detergent and turning on the machine to "quick wash." It would be good enough for this small batch. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked to the kitchen for some ice tea to quench her thirst, and a couple of Tylenol to relieve her headache.As she started for the fridge, she noticed the objects on the kitchen table and stopped dead in her tracks. A ring was sitting on top of a piece of paper and slowly, almost in fear, she approached it. There was no mistaking, it was their wedding ring. She looked at her hand and saw hers and knew it could only belong to one person. Her hands were shaking as she reached for it. She had a horrible feeling inside. Intuitively, she knew this was going to be bad,. As she was about to protest and stop the young girl her intercom buzzed."Dorissa, has Lola arrived yet?" The girl actually giggled and curtseyed,then skipped into the office.Making a fast call to the Feeders branch she asked, "Who is the feedergirl Lola that you just sent up?" Lola? We don't have any Feeder named Lola. The one we dispatched shouldbe there any minute."Pressing a button on the bottom of her desk she said, "Security to theDirectors office please." The six armed men arrived quickly."Dorissa, if you wish to keep your job you will not think of disturbingme at the moment," he said over the intercom.In the background she thought she heard the sounds of slurping. Lookingup she saw the ranking security officer smiling. "You just met Loladidn't you?" At her blank look he continued, "She was handpicked by theCountess before she left for Earth. Usually though she doesn't come tothe office. He called for her fifteen minutes ago."Damn, she thought. The girl can't be an ordinary.
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Anyway, while a few of my friends were starting to get giggly over the tall, handsome P.E teacher or the suave, softly spoken head of English…I was completely oblivious! My attention was caught by the unimaginably hairy Mr. C (I spent many an hour dreaming about licking every inch of him), or the rather short, strangely high pitched Mr. H who had the most curious bulge in his cords all the time! But top of my list was Mr M. An institution, having taught a good few generations before me and whispers always followed about his love of the ladies and some nefarious going’s on in his past. I can’t explain why I came to like him so much, I firmly believe I was the only one who felt that way. Mr. M was about 6’3” tall, thin, grey hair, and absurdly long fingers. That’s what most people would notice, but I noticed other things…the hint of a hairy chest lurking under a white shirt, the fact that his tongue seemed too big for his mouth and most of all those times when he stood behind his.

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