Part Two
Age 15 – 19
The Mr. H___ years. I think I was actually bordering on the brink of gurning lunacy at certain points in the heady years of 1999 – 2002, so obsessed was I with that poor man. I was at a high-achieving all-girls’ school. The few male teachers we had were subjected to a relentless and terrifying assault of misguided lust – even Mr. M___ the past-his-prime physics teacher with a serious glandular problem that made him smell like rotting bins had a few beating hearts following him down the corridors. Effete Mr. T___ the history teacher was hounded like an escaped convict whenever he set foot outside the staffroom. Mr. H___ had no chance; he was normal-looking, quite young, and had a wicked sense of humour. Whenever he walked into a classroom you could hear at least a dozen little ‘sputt’-ing noises which may or may not have been the sudden projectile moistenings of at least a dozen little cotton gussets. He was a God to us, and I loved him with all the 1,000,000V passion of 16 year-old frustrated speccy ginger.

He taught me for a couple of years as GCSE, and I can hardly remember a thing about it: for all that time I was so close to fainting from desire-overload that all I can seem to recall is a deep thumping sensation in my ears and partial blindness due to dangerously high blood pressure. I entertained wild, illegal fantasies about him sweeping me into a store cupboard and roughly taking me there and then amongst the textbooks. I wrote swathes of stilted, Fielding-esque (‘Oh, I say, sir!’) pornographic fiction in which he and I were the protagonists – but as I was so scared of it being discovered I never kept any, and used to tear the paper into tiny, tiny pieces which I’d then put in several different bins. I fabricated any excuse to be with him alone – even volunteering to draw caricatures of the entire bloody teaching staff for the school’s magazine for the sole opportunity of getting to sit and draw him. Every year I wrote and directed the school’s Christmas panto so that I would see him in rehearsals. Thanks to Mr. H__ I discovered the joy, and necessity, of masturbation. I can also thank him for my current tendency to always find figures in authority fist-bitingly erotic.
(Wheezy Luv-ah is pootling about on, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 17:14, Reply)