Warning: This is a VERY taboo, vintage, hard-boiled full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even give a proper description.
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Miss Rachel Blaine kept Jane Preston after school.
It was a wintry Wednesday afternoon, cold and blustery, but warm inside the school. Jane sat at the rear of the classroom, at a desk in the back row.
Jane was a vision of teen loveliness. She was in her early teens, with a round juvenile face and a wickedly nubile young body.
All the boys in school tried to date her, but Jane saved her favors for lovers that the kids in school could never even dream of.
Jane sat with her hands folded primly on the desk. Its worn wooden top was scarred and carved with the graffiti of a generation of students.
Jane's chestnut brown hair, darkly rich, was gathered and pulled back in a cute ponytail which fell down her back like a horse's tail.
Her fresh lovely face needed no cosmetics. Make-up could not improve the innocent allure of her natural beauty. She was fresh-faced, wide-eyed, pert, charming, seemingly innocent. But appearances can be deceiving, however.
Miss Rachel Blaine fancied that she knew Jane's real nature, her true nature, better than anyone else, for a number of reasons.
But the usually astute Miss Blaine was wrong in this assumption.
There were sides and secrets to young Jane of which Miss Blaine was as unaware as any of the youngsters who shared classes with Jane and dreamed vainly of having her in their arms or their beds.
None of the kids in school had ever made love to Jane but Miss Rachel Blaine had.
****
Miss Rachel Blaine kept Jane Preston after school.
It was a wintry Wednesday afternoon, cold and blustery, but warm inside the school. Jane sat at the rear of the classroom, at a desk in the back row.
Jane was a vision of teen loveliness. She was in her early teens, with a round juvenile face and a wickedly nubile young body.
All the boys in school tried to date her, but Jane saved her favors for lovers that the kids in school could never even dream of.
Jane sat with her hands folded primly on the desk. Its worn wooden top was scarred and carved with the graffiti of a generation of students.
Jane's chestnut brown hair, darkly rich, was gathered and pulled back in a cute ponytail which fell down her back like a horse's tail.
Her fresh lovely face needed no cosmetics. Make-up could not improve the innocent allure of her natural beauty. She was fresh-faced, wide-eyed, pert, charming, seemingly innocent. But appearances can be deceiving, however.
Miss Rachel Blaine fancied that she knew Jane's real nature, her true nature, better than anyone else, for a number of reasons.
But the usually astute Miss Blaine was wrong in this assumption.
There were sides and secrets to young Jane of which Miss Blaine was as unaware as any of the youngsters who shared classes with Jane and dreamed vainly of having her in their arms or their beds.
None of the kids in school had ever made love to Jane but Miss Rachel Blaine had.