Megan Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Meeting Megan

I should have hated and feared her from the moment she stepped into my classroom. To be honest, though, I didn't notice her- she was just another student who looked vaguely familiar. Oh certainly, she was very pretty, standing at 5'6'' with an athletic build, wavy brown hair that came down just past her shoulders and dark green eyes that had a subtle hint of mischief, of naughtiness. But, I knew better; I knew to keep my distance, to be professional, and to not get too close to any student.

Way back when I was a puppy just learning the ropes, my old friend and mentor, Mr. Castile, had taken me aside and said, "Jack, I'm going to tell you this because college professors are too embarrassed to admit it, but the fact of the matter is that you're going to face temptation. When a pretty girl with hormones running wild through her body listens to you quote Yeats from memory or read a line from Shakespeare with understanding, she's going to get a crush on you, and for your own protection, you're going to have to chase her off..."

"Bob," I objected, "that's not my thing. I know better, I-" But then Castile cut me off.

"Bullshit," he said. "The temptation is always there; on top of that, you're not horrible to look at, and you're pretty fuckin' good in the classroom, so it's going to happen." We argued in a friendly way, but I walked away from that discussion more wary and careful than what I had been as an intern. That had been nearly ten years before, and over time, I let my guard down- and that was a mistake, most especially with Megan.

About a week into the school year, Megan stayed after class briefly and waited for the regular gaggle of question-askers to disperse. "Mr. W." she said (my last name is Williams), "You don't remember me, do you?"

I was surprised by the question, and asked, "Should I?"

"Probably not," she answered, her cheeks blushing a little, "I was in your class when you taught at Brooker." Brooker was the public middle school on the other side of town, and had been where I cut my teeth as a young teacher before getting hired at prestigious St. Catherine's.

It took me a moment, but then the light clicked on: Megan had been in my class when she was in the 8th grade, but I hadn't seen much of her. She had turned wild doing God knows what (alcohol and drugs was the assumption) and had more or less disappeared by November of that year. There were rumors that she was doing time in juvenile hall or the psychiatric ward- depending on the source. "Megan," I said, "I am so sorry. I can't believe I didn't recognize you."

"Don't be," she said, "I was really bad back then, and I don't look the same." Both statements were true- I had disliked her for staring at me with bored eyes on those rare occasions when she had actually bothered to come to school. She had also been rail thin, with dark, sunken eyes and hair that covered most of her face. Now, however, she was absolutely beautiful and seemed to radiate confidence. There was just this spark that I could feel that both excited me and made me nervous. I caught myself staring for a second, before she quickly continued. "But anyway, I just wanted you to know that I'm different now. I got my life together and I want to be an English teacher like you."

It was my turn to blush as I smiled. "Well good," I said as our eyes locked. She gave a nervous little laugh, started to say something, but then thought better of it as my next class started to fill the room. And then she was gone.

Now, if you expected Megan and I to start having sex in my classroom the next day or week, then you were mistaken. Megan had certainly caught my attention; on "free dress" days when the students didn't have to wear their frumpy uniforms, she looked amazing- her legs were long and smooth, her tummy was flat, and her breasts- to say the least- were a distraction, since they were obviously at least Cs, and stood high and firm. But all things considered, it really wasn't that big of a deal. Yes, I noticed and surreptitiously peeked on those days, but I was good about keeping that professional distance.

The school year, then, progressed at its normal pace, with Homecoming in October, the cold air and Thanksgiving in November, followed by the snow of December. All in all, the first semester had gone quite well- the writing and analysis skills of my students was improving, with Megan easily becoming one of the stars. Unlike many of her peers who excelled, Megan was adventurous, and would sneak in humorous commentary or vigorously pursue tangents that demonstrated a keen understanding of the material. The longer I knew her, the more remarkable I thought that Megan was.

On the last day of class before Christmas break, Megan dropped by. The students had been dismissed, and most of the teachers were hurrying to submit their grades so that they could go home. I was inputting my grades as well, when I heard a clear voice say: "Hi Mr. W."

Inwardly I smiled. "Hi Megan," I said, glancing up from my paperwork. "Shouldn't you be off enjoying your break?"

"Yes- I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas before I left."

I thought that was very nice and said, "Thank you. Merry Christmas to you as well."

I then paused and looked at her directly for a very long moment. She was wearing skinny jeans and a tight, purple button down dress shirt that was tautly drawn across her chest. To my surprise and annoyance, I could feel my cock begin to harden. Not good, I thought.

"Oh, and it's my birthday," Megan added. "I think I deserve a birthday hug." I felt my cock get a little harder, and I squirmed. I absolutely wanted to hug her, but searched my mind for an excuse not to. There was none, so instead, I played for time: "Oh, do you now? How old are you?" I then made a couple of ridiculous guesses that elicited a well-practiced, teenage eye roll.

"Shut up," she said shyly laughing. "I'm 19. I got held back in the 8th grade since I'd missed too many days." I hadn't known and felt bad for a moment- thinking that I had embarrassed her. "Just don't bring it up around the other students. I like feeling normal."

"Of course," I said, standing. My cock had gone down a little, so unless she grinded herself into me, she wouldn't notice and everything would be as innocent as it was supposed to be. "Happy Birthday," I said as I opened my arms. She fell into my embrace, and to my dismay, squeezed me hard. Her pelvis and mine made contact, and I knew that she could feel my half-hard cock. Fuck, I thought. When I loosened my grip though, she held me for about two more heartbeats before letting go.

When she stepped back, Megan's face was a little flush and I could see the hint of her nipples trying to strain through the blouse. "I think we both enjoyed that a little too much," she whispered- almost to herself. I didn't know what to say.

After a moment, I stammered, "I should get this done," and moved towards my desk, which caused Megan to laugh. In nervousness and relief, I started to laugh as well. It was at that moment when my Principal stuck her head in the door.

"Megan," she said gruffly (but not unkindly), "you need to let Mr. Williams finish his work."

"Sorry Mrs. C.," Megan said. "Merry Christmas!" And then she was gone.