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Chapter 1

It hadn't been the best of days. In the English lesson, some of Year 8 kids had been an absolute nightmare with Jeremy Holmes always with the back chat and Kelly Matheson constantly talking and disrupting anyone within a mile of her. How the hell was I suppose to teach them the subtleties of Shakespeare when they fought to understand today's English let alone one spoken 350 years ago? Anyway, I pondered, it was a Friday and school could whistle until Monday, I was on my way home and preparing to get ready for the annual charity ball in Sheffield. I was really looking forward to it and Nikki aka Mrs. Jon Pilgrim, 32 , (me) was going to let her hair down.

One of the beauties of these events is that I get to buy myself a new dress to wear. This year I had splashed out and had bought a shimmering silver cocktail dress with open back and cross over straps, a deep plunge style neckline with horseshoe shape metal fastener which showed a mdecent amount of my 36D cleavage without being slutty and one that had a straight cut hemline a couple of inches above the knee, so again quite acceptable. What I loved about the dress was the cut, the way it fitted to my bust then dropped freefall style to a raw unfinished hemline. When I spun round, it swayed as corn in a breeze. I had decided to keep my legs bare, wear a deliciously naughty pair of white see through briefs, together with my red 3 inch heels. I had shaved armpits, legs and bush, washed my curly blond hair, blow-dried it and ...

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