I'd backtrack and see if I could see her in a store. I knew it was a longshot, but I had to try. If it was Mary, what would I do? Would I confront her... Accuse her of having me imprisoned? I couldn't bring myself to believe that she would do such a thing deliberately. That just wasn't who she was.Maybe it wasn't Mary. Maybe it was someone else. They say everyone has a double, but ... I didn't really think that. It had to be her. She was alive and living somewhere nearby, I assumed. Mary Simpson. Four years after graduating college, however, I was still just a substitute. Apparently I was not the only one who wanted to be a history teacher. Subbing barely paid the bills though. So when I heard of a position at a school down state, I took the job. It was eighth grade, state history. It meant moving to a place and a school I had never been to before, but I was up to the challenge.I got to the school a few days before students were scheduled to arrive. I was given a tour of the building by. He decided to keep this little game up by slowly caressing her pussy from the bottom to the top, but stopping just short of causing stimulation directly on her clit. He extended his index finger and did her favorite thing, turning his palm up and moving his finger in the come here motion from the bottom to the top, again coming just short of her clit. Wanting to have both hands free to play, Larry unclasped one the the straps from Robin's garter belt and eased a finger underneath her panties. The wooden floor was not cold or uncomfortable and I had finished the meagre breakfast in no time while the Captain was still pondering over the charts as she ate her toast and tea, occasionally sweeping the paper of crumbs.Eventually she got up and told me to get her a towel and spare uniform, which I picked up from the small wardrobe next to her bed. A couple of seawomen were treated to the sight of the Captain walking naked, apart from her jacket, in the corridor but did not seem to care..