An Unlikely Encounter

They suddenly squirmed into bashful apologies, not wanting to be on my bad side when their grade was on the line. Kiss-asses.

I was rather abrupt and terse with them for the next fifteen minutes. Mostly from my own emotional state, but I’m pretty confident they thought I was just irritated at their manners. I breathed an annoyed sigh as soon as they left and the room was empty. Rubbing my temples with one hand, I slid my desk drawer open and pulled out my lunch, tossing it on the desk.

Then I saw her paper.

My heart skipped a beat.Don’t read it now. Whatever it is, just read it after school. At home… You wouldn’t read any other student’s paper at lunch. I pushed my chair back and stood up, resolving to go to the teacher’s lounge and put all this out of my head. But I didn’t even make it to the hallway before I turned around and sunk back into my chair with an irritated grunt.

There was no helping myself. I pulled the paper up and saw a written comment from her, scrawled under mine in big bubbly letters that only a teenage girl would do.

“I still think my plot is good. It can keep adding on in fun ways. Just try the next part.”

So she didn’t change her submission at all.Shit. I thumbed through the pages until I got to the newest addition, freshly stables onto the back. My dick started involuntarily twitching before I read the first word.

‘She was so sure that she saw him staring at her in the gym… Could he really be interested? As the week went on, she started to doubt herself. Maybe she was imagining it… Maybe it was even wishful thinking…’

What the hell was this? My brain tried to process the thought that she was actually going to push this further. I skimmed through the pages, past her ruminating about seeing her teacher in a different light… On to the bar…

‘So she danced on in her little schoolgirl outfit. She knew all the older men were looking at her. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. She liked it, but for some reason it just wasn’t as thrilling as being watched by *him*, like on the treadmill… As she twisted and turned, her eyes closed and picturing him, she almost thought she imagined hearing his voice call out her name. She looked anyway and felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown on her when she actually saw her teacher… another encounter!’

Uh huh, very clever. Or maybe I didn’t think that. My thought process was probably more to the effect of: holy shit, she was fantasizing about me?

As desperate as I was to read every word, I restlessly flipped the page and skipped ahead a little. She talked about being nervous about having to leave the bar. About her parents finding out. About getting into her teacher’s car. She talked about trying to flirt a little while driving, then feeling embarrassed about it. It was always so easier to read boys her age.

‘When they pulled up to her house, she couldn’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She wasn’t sure. She *thought* he might like her. He seemed so flustered… not at all like he is when he’s teaching. She looked down and was about to say goodbye when she saw it. He was excited for her. Her heart swelled into her chest with inward pleasure. She thought about saying something about it… she almost did… But without even thinking, she just leaned forward and kissed him!’

My mouth was dry as I read her version of the events. I kept shifting awkwardly in my seat, squirming from my pounding hard-on. I couldn’t believe this. This was terrible.This was amazing…

She detailed how I… or rather, “the teacher,” kissed her back. And how much she liked it. As she left and went back into her house, she was so happy. But she didn’t want to freak him out, so she would play it down at school. But she couldn’t wait until their next encounter somewhere.

‘Maybe she would leave it to fate. But maybe she would have to take fate into her own hands…’

Okay. A little over-dramatic. What do you expect from a high-schooler? But who gives a rat’s ass. I wasn’t thinking objectively about the quality of her writing. I was thinking, rather haphazardly, that Autumn wanted to fuck me.

But then I thought, she never actually said anything about having sex.That’s just what you want her to want…

VIII

The day couldn’t end soon enough. Loath as I was to admit it, but I was desperate to get home. I needed time to read her paper again, thoroughly this time. And I wanted to make sure I would be alone. No students walking in. No other teachers. Just me.And my fantasies about Autumn. With my hand down my pants.

And that’s just what happened. No sooner was I in my door that I had thrown all my things to the side except for Autumn’s paper. I sank into the couch, irritated at my own hustle but powerless to do anything about it. My dick was already throbbing in my slacks, ever since I got in my car. I couldn’t stop muttering to myself about how deep of shit I was in with Autumn… About how to get the little tease to stop. I was burning for her.

My body was so on edge that I barely got through a few paragraphs before my hips jerked and I came forcefully in my clothes.God, I can’t even help myself.With the tension released, I once again was flooded with guilt and fear of what was happening. Ihadto stop this somehow. She can’t keep writing this story… or worse, thinking thatwhateverwas happening could be allowed to continue.

At first I resolved to confront her the next day at school. I would find a way to get her alone, no matter what. Then I realized, to hell with that. I’d wait a few days. Makehersweat it out. Nonchalance and disinterest was the way to go. I wasn’t going to come off desperate in front of her.Not anymore than I already have…

Of course, that didn’t stop my curiosity from getting the better of me later that evening. After I ate some dinner, I rummaged through the closet and found the previous class’s yearbook. I thumbed through the pages and found her photo. She definitely looked younger; a year is a long time for a teenager. Still definitely cute; although I would have never started obsessing over her. Hell, I never would havenowif it wasn’t for that day at the gym…

I continued to turn through the pages, taking in all of the larger pictures entered into the book: events, clubs, random snapshots of high school life. I ignored the part of myself that was calling me a pervert for what I was looking for. Especially when I came upon what I wanted.

I didn’tknowif there’d be another picture of Autumn somewhere in the yearbook. But there was. She was standing in the middle of two other girls at some sports game; all their arms upraised showing “number one”. She was wearing these tiny shorts and a tank-top, which pulled up to show her flat stomach from her pose.

Her friends didn’t even register to me. They were probably just as cute. One even had nicer tits. But I didn’t care at all about them (the girls, not the tits). I just sawher. Her innocent face, that tight little body. I don’t know what I got off on more: those little shorts showing off her legs, or all that young skin bared from her shirt. Or maybe it was just that I was so helpless that I couldn’t stop jerking off to her no matter what. That I’d resort to digging up a picture from her as a junior to get my fix… It was so fucked up. But it made me comesohard though.

I was so mad at myself. But I didn’t pretend like I could stop anymore. All I cared about was giving Autumn the impression that I didn’t want her. I could deal with myownfeelings until the end of the school year, and then it’d be over. That didn’t mean I couldn’t rip that page out of the yearbook and stuff it in drawer under my bed. I knew I’d need to use it again later…

The next few days were awkward. I kept to my plan of playing cool in class and not confronting Autumn right away. Even though every day I saw her, my nerves rattled and demanded I just get it over with. But nothing interesting happened. She didn’t wear anything outrageous. She didn’t flirt with me or really give me any signs at all.

Every once in awhile I’d see a sly little look from her, but I was convinced that I had imagined it. Let’s face it. I’d been jerking off to her every day now. As much as I didn’t want her to be serious about the whole thing… Iwantedto see her give me a signal.

I finally got something on Thursday. Another student asked if I had read their latest revisions on their stories. As soon as he asked, I carefully eyed Autumn’s reaction. Her eyes shot up from her paper that she’d been scribbling on.She was interested!This thought was accompanied simultaneously by an exuberant‘yes!’ and terrified‘shit!’

I answered that I still had a couple submissions left. They would be finished by the end of the school day, and I’d hand them back on Friday. If they were truly desperate, they could come in after the last bell and pick it up early. I already knew at least a handful of students would take me up on it. What I was curious about, obviously, was ifshewould.

The minutes dragged on slowly for the rest of the afternoon, that very question weighing on my mind the entire time. School ended at 2:00. At 2:05, the first few students trickled in. Some just wanted their papers right away and left. Others stayed to look over them and discuss them with me. Ordinarily I would have told them to wait at least a day, if not the whole weekend, before jumping to questions. Today however, I was generous with my time. I kept eyeing the door.Just in case...

By 2:30, my room was once again empty. She didn’t show up. My edgy anticipation finally wore off, and I assumed I’d have a break of it until tomorrow. I got up from my desk and started putting my things together to leave. So my stomach did a total flip when I suddenly heard, from behind me, a young girl’s voice chirp, “Oh good, I’m not too late!”

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Ah Autumn, how may I help you?”

“I was hoping to get my paper.” She had walked up to my desk now. It was all I could do not to spin around and take her in the second I knew she was at the door.Be calm, be casual…

“Of course,” I rummaged through a binder (as if I didn’t have hers placed for convenient access already). “Although I noticed you didn’t follow my instruction…”

Her eager features faded, clouded by vague unease. “What do you mean?”

You’re in charge here, make sure it stays that way.“Well, we discussed that your initial prompt didn’t have much in the way of direction…”

“What are you talking about!” she blurted, almost offended. “I wrote a whole second part! It continues everything!”

“Actually, if you take the time to read my comments, it almost comes off as a completely separate story… just tacked onto the first.” This wasn’tcompletelytrue, and I felt guilty about compromising my teaching integrity… but there were greater stakes at play here.

She snatched the paper from my hand. “That’s like, totally unfair! It completely fits together!” The pages flipped angrily through her fingers as her eyes buzzed over each line I marked in. Before I could respond, her eyes slowly rose up and leveled at my gaze. “And you know it.”

Oh. Crap.I was almost chilled by her sudden determination and confidence. Or maybe it was just me being a nervous wreck on the inside. I stared at her blankly for a moment, no words coming to mind.

“Is this about something else?” she asked flatly.

Okay, no more games. “Look Autumn, this paper is, um, inappropriate…”

“Why?”

I almost scoffed. “Because…”What could I even say?

“BecauseIthink the writing is really good,” she interrupted.

“Like I said, it’s not thewritingso much as thesubject matter…”

“Well it totally fits the prompt! Do I need to show it to another English teacher to prove it?”

C-r-a-p!“That’s uh, not necessary…”

She cocked her neck a little bit, trying to hide a smug little smile. “So what’s the problem?”

“Look Autumn, I’m not sure what- what you think is going on here. I have been willing to overlook your, um,indiscretionfrom the other night…”

Her mouth snapped shut and her cheeks turned bright red.

“…but whatever it is, it is going to stop. Ithasstopped.”There. Firm, in charge.

She stared at me, angry at not finding any words. Her gaze dropped down to her paper and she finally spoke, “I don’t see whatthathas to do withthis.” And she shook the paper for emphasis.

Was she joking? “This isn’t a game, Autumn.”

“What? You think this would actuallyhappen? A high school teacher getting excited over his littlestudent? That’s prettyunlikely. And isn’t that, like, the whole point of the story?” She dripped with sarcasm.

And there it was again. That sudden flare of excitement and certainty in her eyes. That look she got when she knew she wanted something. I needed to take control. “That’s right, it wouldn’t happen, so…”

“So there’s noproblemthen, right?” she quickly interjected.

At that moment, one of the other teacher’s from down the hall poked her head in the door. Autumn and I both looked over.

“Oh sorry,” my colleague apologized, “I didn’t think you’d still be with your students…”

“It’s okay Ms. Hendrix, we were just finishing up.” Autumn turned and gave me a sour smile. “Thanks for like, seeing it my way. I’m really excited to see how the story turns out.”

She was already walking away from me and towards the door before I could respond. My muscles tensed. I didn’t want this to end with her having the last word, but I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable even broaching the topic with another instructor in the room.

At that moment I felt defeated. For better or for worse, I allowed myself to be convinced that there wasn’t much I could do. I wasn’t sure if she was bluffing about showing the paper to another teacher. Even if she did, it didn’tproveanything. But my obsession over the recent weeks was too powerful to think through it clearly. It had to stay a secret, even if that meant allowing her to continue writing. AllIhad to do was stay away from her. I could do that, right?

IX

Actually, it turns out the answer was a resoundingno. It took only until the next day. Class proceeded uneventfully; I couldn’t bring myself to try and confront Autumn again about the paper. I was afraid of how she’d react. The previous night was wracked with nightmares of her telling another teacher, and everyone finding out how bad I wanted her. I’d wake up, sweaty and angry. I took out my frustration by jerking off to her.What a surprise.

The most notable thing that occurred was that it was sunny. This meant Autumn came to school wearing a showy pair of little shorts. I tried to ignore them and not think about those delicious legs, tantalizing thighs… and what was between them. All I had to do was get through the day, and at least I’d have the weekend away from her. I was even going to spend some time with my girlfriend; let a realwomanexpel these unending thoughts about agirl.

That evening, Heather and I went to the movies. We were both tired from the work week and didn’t feel like doing anything too extravagant. For some reason, I had the tremendous brain fart to not realize the theater would be full of high school kids on an opening weekend. I guess it’s never been a problem before. Hell, it wouldn’t even be now, as long asshewasn’t there. And what would be the odds of that anyway?

At least that’s what I kept telling myself as we drove there. No sooner had we parked that my eyes were ceaselessly scouting out all the packs of kids. Young girls were everywhere, some in groups, some with dates. Every time I saw a tight little body in short shorts, my heart skipped a beat until I realized it wasn’ther. I felt horribly guilty, hoping my girlfriend didn’t think I was trying to check them all out.

We got in line to buy some tickets. I tried not to let my nerves show through. So far, I had not seen any sign of her. But I knew I couldn’t relax until I was safe in the darkness of the theater.What would she do anyway? What am I scared of?My mind trailed off briefly, but I was jolted back to reality hearing a large outcry of giggling.

I looked behind me in the line and saw a group of girls talking with some boys. You know how it is, young people always talking louder because they think other people want to see them. At first it was nothing, and I started to look away, but at the last moment I saw that familiar pair of shorts. Or perhaps those more familiar young legs; the ones I’d been masturbating to all week.

She wasn’t facing towards me, but either from cosmic bad luck or her getting that sixth sense of someone watching her, she turned her head. Her eyes flickered a nervous excitement the moment she identified me. It was obvious I recognized her, but I jerked my head anxiously away regardless.Smooth dumbass, now she *really* knows.We were almost at the ticket window.

I wasn’t going to look again, but I did put my arm around Heather’s waist and gave her a squeeze. She didn’t think anything of it particularly; I hoped Autumn was watching and got the idea. We bought two tickets for some horror flick and got ready to go in. There was a pack of people streaming out of the theater, as a movie must have just ended. I cocked my ear behind me once I realized Autumn’s group was at the window.

“Come on guys, let’s see the scary one instead. The comedy looks totally dumb.”

Oh give me a break.She must have heard me order. There’s no other way… Was she serious? Even with my girlfriend with me? I hurried us inside the building, anxious to get to our theater and hide in some dark corner. But no, there was a line.

We got into it and started waiting. Heather was making conversation about something, but I can’t remember what the hell about. It was all I could do to hide my own distraction. Ireallydid not want Autumn to see the same film as us. My eyes kept darting back to the door, waiting for her group to come in;hopingthey’d go into a different line. When the door finally swung open, I saw them mill around a bit and finally get in place inourline, several places behind.Damn it!

Maybe I was overreacting. Like I said, what the hell could she do? But try to put yourself in my shoes. As ridiculous as it may sound, I was more and more afraid of this girl. Not for what she could do to me, but how she mademefeel abouther. Guilt, lust,everythingswirled around inside of me. My girlfriend being right next to me just made it seem that much more scandalous.

Just let us inside!The fifteen-year-old tenant at the head of the line, looking bored as ever, seemed like he held way too much power at just that moment. After some length he shuffled by the podium and started letting people into the theater, taking their tickets one by one.About damn time.As Heather and I finally got into the screening room, I attempted to get her to sit in a corner, or at least the side of a row. There were still too many open seats though, and she insisted that we get a better view by sitting in the middle somewhere.

I relented, not having any decent excuse to counter otherwise. By now I’m sure you can guess what I was afraid of. More people came in and filled up the seats. Then the group of high-schoolers entered. I tried to slouch a little and hide my presence.Damn it, I should’ve gone back out to take a leak or something, what was I thinking!?There was a largely empty row near the front where it looked like the whole gaggle of them would sit.