Buying presents is always a problem. Mr Robinson liked to buy good presents, which meant a trip into the city to the big stores. This was how he came to be in an over-heated, city centre store, one Friday afternoon...

He was pondering over what to buy for whom when a soft voice behind him said:

‘Hello, sir.’

It was a female voice, low and slightly husky - and it sounded as sexy as hell.

Mr Robinson assumed the woman wasn’t speaking to him. But it does happen if you’ve been in teaching; some old pupils never forget you. This is one of the perks of the job. Mr Robinson, having taught woodwork mainly to lads, was usually remembered by young men. He didn’t relate well to female voices - and certainly not with sexy female voices.

Light female footsteps walked closer, but he didn’t turn.

‘Hello, sir,’ she said again, ‘Remember me?’

Her voice was still low and soft, with a hint of something vaguely exciting in it. He turned, ready to apologise - and stared, amazed. There was no-one behind him but this tall, very attractive young blonde. She was wearing an elegant grey coat which was open because of the heat in the store. She had the face of an impudent angel, long hair, big blue eyes, and a lovely mouth which showed nice teeth as she smiled.

She was smiling as if they were old friends, and he still hadn’t the faintest idea who she was. Or who she thought he was. But she seemed to know him all right!

He smiled at her, thinking: she’s no ex-pupil. She’s the model-type you see in glossy magazine adverts. Purpose built for screwing, and no doubt well worth the effort.

He couldn’t imagine her ever having set foot into a small school workshop in her life. He mentally placed her as high class private girls’ school, then some elevated college for privileged young ladies with affluent parents.

But she didn’t seem to be a spoiled, pampered bitch. She seemed friendly, confident, and full of fun. Her thick blonde hair had soft waves, and was done in a casual style that suited her so well it was probably natural. Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously under eyebrows arched in appeal.

In this situation Mr Robinson had found that honesty is the best policy. Very few elegant young ladies of her age and obvious sophistication ever accost woodwork teachers. It had certainly never happened to him before.

He looked blank, then he said,

‘I think you’ve made a mistake.’ He wondered if she was Miss, Mrs, Ms, or Madam.

‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ She laughed, like small silver bells. ‘I’d never mistake you, sir.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I have no idea who you are ... ‘

‘You didn’t teach me very long,’ she said. ‘I used to come for woodwork in my free periods. But I wasn’t much interested, until you showed me woodcarving.’

A faint recollection stirred in Mr Robinson’s mind, but he was still surprised, and he was still remotely concerned about the presents he’d come to buy.

‘You make it sound as if you enjoyed it,’ he said.

‘Oh, I did! I still do, when I can find the time. It’s very relaxing.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘It’s one thing I’ll never give up - and I’ll never forget you, either. You were the teacher most of us Sixth Form girls were mad about.’

He dredged his memory as she gave him another appealing look, smiling, with one eyebrow arched. She was almost pleading with him to remember her now.

‘I’m Anne,’ she said softly.

He thought desperately about girls named Anne - but nothing came to mind.

‘Anne Bentley,’ she said, smiling. ‘You had a class of stupid young girls. But Ruth and I must have been a nuisance. We had no more sense than to try to impress you with our female charms.’

Suddenly he recalled two tall senior girls; one blonde, the other with dark hair, both with lithe, youthful figures, and strong sexual inclinations ...

The blonde was saying

‘We tried to help you with the class. They were awkward and took up too much of your time. We wanted all your attention, so one week we took their knickers to make them behave: and it worked.... ’

Her blue eyes twinkled as she added. ‘But, after class, you caned us on our bare bottoms, which was very embarrassing. And then, you - ‘

‘Ah, yes!’ he nodded, smiling. ‘I remember you now, Anne, and your friend ... Ruth, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, Ruth Walker.’

‘That was when I found out that senior girls were allowed to wear panties instead of the blue school knickers.’

‘Oh, yes, it was.’ she smiled again, remembering ...

He was surprised. Now, she was a very attractive adult, and apparently not concerned that he’d made her and Ruth act almost like whores that afternoon.

‘I intended to apologise for the way I took advantage of you both, but you left before I - ‘

‘No apology needed,’ Anne interrupted. ‘You were the best-looking teacher in the school, and we’d set out to seduce you before we left. We’d been asking for it, and we couldn’t complain, even if we’d wanted to - which we didn’t.’

‘I thought you’d both have been outraged, later.’

‘No,’ Anne said. ‘It was six years ago, but I still get a thrill when I think about it. I’ll never forget it - or you.’

‘Was it so long ago? I had no idea it was six years.’

‘Uh-huh.’ She grinned. ‘That was the first time I’d ever been helpless, and I’d never been gagged before. And I’d never been so madly turned on before, either - or very often since, come to that!’