MIDDLE SCHOOL INSCRYPTIONS and their aftermath

 Her name was Marie DeLio.  She was the Marilyn Monroe of middle school teachers, rivaled only by the bronze skinned Mrs. Brodsky, the girl's gym teacher.  We asked Mr. Rosoff, the guidance teacher, if he liked her.  One day he popped his head into our home room, told Marie what we'd asked him, and said he'd told us "Yes." They would often be seen walking into the teacher's lounge with their arms around each other's waists.  Jealousy?  You bet.  One day, he popped his head into our home room and the two of them started to talk about me, until Rosoff tossed off the word, "noncomposmentis," they laughed, and he walked away.  Marie wore tight, low cut dresses and would occasionally bend over to reveal hidden treats of her anatomy.  One day, she perched herself on my desk, last row, first desk, next to the windows.  She then proceeded to informally lecture the class while running her fingers over my ears in what to this day is one of the most sexually provocative experiences of why life.  She never touched me before, after, or since.  Secrets of the universe?  Forget it.  I will go back to stars never knowing what she was up to.  Her standard remark to the troubles of the day was: "It's not funny, it's sad."  I once stayed behind after home room was dismissed, tossed a deck of cards on the floor, and waited for her to come back and find me picking up the cards.  Should I have been more assertive?  I wasn't the night Diane Valentine and were left alone while my wife Valerie went off somewhere and Diane's husband Ed, our family doctor, was off somewhere else.  Diane and I were on the sofa, inches away from each other and she kept leaning into me and shooing her baby daughter away so we could be alone.  And there was that singular moment when were standing face to face in the kitchen, that moment when I should have kissed her.  And I let that moment pass.  I let the moment pass with Moire (?), too, sitting across from me at breakfast in her skimpy nightgown after Valerie had left for work.  Valerie had said Moire would have sex with me.  I let that opportunity pass by.  It's a miracle that I got laid as often I did and kissed strangers like that beautiful Asian girl on buses in the night.  I didn't miss those opportunities.  Facts or fictions?