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Looking back on it, I think it was pretty clear that Mrs. B was sending me signals. At the time, I just thought I was imagining things, why would she be sending me signs? I was just a dumb kid. Sure, I was tall, not bad looking with a muscular body for the time. I got some attention from the cute girls but I was just a dumb kid with a stupid grin who was always hanging around stealing glances at her tits or her lovely legs and ass.

I had the worst crush on Mrs. B. It was in her class that I learned that I have a fatal weakness for redheads. I loved to watch her move through the room. She wore skirts and dresses that were too short for female students, but no one complained. It’s just who she was. She had lovely legs, no reason not to let the world see them. When she wore pants (they were just recently allowed), they were skintight, revealing a cute tight little ass. Tops were also tight, often with some cleavage showing between her pretty B-cup breasts.

You’re still here because you’re strong, maybe not strong enough to win, but strong enough to live. How many knights and soldiers can say that? How many people in history do you think have clawed their way through the mud, gnashing their teeth and howling in pain, all for that little victory? You being here, after all that bloodshed and horror, is an accomplishment you shouldn’t dismiss.”