We shared a classtogether. It was one of those auditorium classes where a hundred or more earlyyear students just hope to gain needed credits. Still, ...atie stood out.? She didn*t need to doanything special to attract attention but often challenged our professor andwas often vindicated by her conscise rebuttals.?? Her intelligence was asreal as her beauty. My lust for her grew andone day I saw her sitting on a bench in the library gardens. She was reading a text butwhat caught my eye was the way. Lynne Masterson wasn't tall, and her curvy frame might have made her seem plump if she hadn't worked out assiduously to avoid it. She had obviously been working, wearing an old t-shirt and pair of cutoff shorts that did nothing to conceal her figure. A fringe of dark hair surrounded her pretty, freckled face, and there were smudges of dried clay on her face and arms."Hi, John!" she said brightly. "Long time no see. Stuart's at baseball practice right now." Oh, right," I said, as if I'd. More

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