The Safe Girl

Simon Says: So this is a longer story, takes awhile to get started and has little in the way of actual sexual stuff in this chapter, just several erotic scenes. If you are looking for a quick fix then you might want to move along.

While this could be considered Mature, I put it in Romance as that is more of what is intended.

I plan to have a few more chapters on this one if it seems to be of interest to others. This is a work of fiction and the characters are only loosely based on real people, who cannot be identified. :) Happy reading!

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Finally I was able to sit down. I wrapped my fingers around the ceramic coffee cup, feeling the warmth spread across my fingers. I sighed and smiled, enjoying how it somehow spread throughout me. My eyes closed and I nearly went into one of those odd states of Zen, where everything is blocked out and all is inwardly quiet. Well, I was nearly there until I heard "Dr. Hamilton!" from somewhere behind me.

I glanced back and looked among the faces until I saw a set of excited eyes just above a pretty smile accompanied by an enthusiastically waving arm. Jennifer. . no. . Janie. . Jessica! That's her name. My mind was working overtime trying to remember how I knew her, where and under what circumstances. . and whether I had failed her. Well likely she wouldn't be smiling and waving if she had failed my class. Well unless she is into that kind of thing.

Nope, I remember. VERY good student. Everything was turned in like three weeks early. Always exemplary. She sat in the front of row of class, nearly leaning forward as if she was hanging on my every word. I am pretty sure I am not that fascinating. I think she was just programmed that way.

I smiled and waved back. As if that was the invitation she was seeking, the young brunette wearing a . what is that. . a kind of beret of sorts . . wove her way through the tables and chairs, seemingly placed without much thought to order, to where I was sitting. Nice work on the obstacle course there, Jess.

"Dr. Hamilton, it is so good to see you!" She began. I love young enthusiasm. I smiled and moved my hand out to shake hers "Great to see you too, Jessica." I was hoping that I had remembered correctly. She ignored my hand and leaned in enthusiastically to give me a hug in my seat. My outstretched hand ended up on her side, fingers resting against the soft fabric of her coat. My thoughts raced for about a second, but then I remembered that I was in my forties and she was definitely not in her forties.

Don't get me wrong, no one likes warm embraces from pretty women more than me, but it threw me off-kilter. I tend to avoid anything of the like while students are still my students. I rarely accept Facebook "friend" invites until students graduate, and by then they usually forget about me. Jessica had moved out of that student role so it felt like we were in subtle silent negotiations as to how we should act towards each other. Well at least I was. She just was enthusiastically hugging me. Which I incidentally was enjoying. She finally let me go and stood in front of me, her smiling green eyes never leaving mine.

I cleared my throat trying to regain composure after the unexpected hug. "What has it been, three semesters?" She cocked her head a moment, biting her lower lip, her eyes concentrating on nothing in front of her while she ticked off the time in her head. My, that's pretty adorable. Finally she shook her head and smiled as she held up four fingers. She kind of shifted back and forth on her feet as she held her mug in front of her.

I shrugged at my not getting the years quite right and then sat for a moment while I considered how this was going to play out. Should I invite her to sit down? Or should I just continue on in a casual conversation while she stood? Most of my students graduate and end up at other places as they move on with their lives. Jessica was an anomaly as she apparently remained local. This didn't have a lot of precedent for me so I was kinda at a loss. Eventually after much inner wrangling I decided to go ahead and do the polite thing (or at least the thing my grandmother would be happy with me doing) and waved my hand in front of me offering the seat across the table "Care to join me? I would love to hear about how things are."

She smiled her winning enthusiastic smile again and nodded as she sat her cup on the table and removed her pink pea coat. She quickly slipped into the seat. Does she do anything slow? She then slipped her hat thing off . .definitely a beret. . . and finger combed her hair a bit as if to get it looking correct. She tucked several strands of hair on the left side behind her ear, finally settling her green eyes on me now that all was seemingly exactly the way she wanted it to be.

I watched the whole thing kind of mesmerized. Its as if she was executing a system, some sort of process. She moved as if she knew exactly what the next step was going to be as if she had done it the same way each time. Wait, one more step in her plan: she picked up her mug and intertwined her fingers wrapping her hands around it and finally taking a sip of the steaming beverage. Tea? That's hot tea I smell. Her eyes closed briefly as she savored the taste, or the warmth, or both. That's contentment, maybe even her own moment of Zen. Now she looked ready to continue. I remember Jess well now. I couldn't help but smile as I watched this dance unfold. Kind of fascinating.

Jess was the girl who bounced everywhere she went. And I am not talking about the pervy kind of bounce your mind might have immediately went to. Nope. She was always moving. And fast. With kind of a happy step. She hugged everyone. She smiled all the time. She wore bright clothing that matched her bright expression. And her happiness was infectious. And I felt warmth spread as I apparently caught it too. I silently thanked Jess.

"So how is the semester going for you?" She smiled as she talked. Her perfect teeth gleamed, her hair perfectly framed her face, long wavy locks cascaded in layers. Her skin was so fair and such a contrast with her slightly darker hair. Like porcelain. Well not quite, maybe more like a creamy softness. She is young. You are not. I occasionally needed that reality check. "Very well. Same course load as usual."

She was listening so intently as I droned on briefly about my courses. Her eyebrows raising to show she was listening. "Well almost the same as usual" I continued. "I don't have any students like you this semester," I added with a slightly cheesy wink.

She laughed "I know I was a handful! Always needing to know every detail of every expectation in the first two days of class!" Then she smiled "I probably should apologize!" Her eyes were sparkling again.

I can play this game. I am not sure if she was seeking a compliment but I didn't mind giving one. "Please! You were one of my best." I leaned back and took a sip, taking advantage of a pause.

"You know, we are quite opposites. I am surprised you didn't just go nuts with my laid-back-anything-goes attitude." I shrugged as I watched for her expression. I actually always have been curious as to how my typically Type A students dealt with my particular style of teaching. Honestly, I imagined they secretly cursed my name.

She paused for a moment, using the tea sipping as an excuse it seems. "I think you were good for me," she said kind of softly. I suddenly felt a natural reaction of discomfort. The pervy old guy does not need to hear such complimentary (and potentially layered with double meanings) words. My imagination does just fine without that sort of prompting. I felt the need to shift gears in the conversation.

"Well so what have you been up to? Surely having graduated you don't want to just discuss college." I smiled as I tried to joke a bit. Her eyes oddly stopped smiling. Nice move Stephen. She cleared her throat as she carefully set the tea down. Her mood had quickly shifted.

"Kind of between stuff right now." Apparently I don't know when to shut up. "Oh? So you are applying for work?"

She nodded and forced a smile. "No one is hiring teachers at this time of year though. They will probably start looking for people like me in the Spring."

I nodded sympathetically. "I am confident they will," I offered and smiled. I had been there and done that. A few times. "So you have something tiding you over until then?"

She nodded again, still not coming out of the slight funk I pushed her into. I REALLY need to be a bit more intuitive. "I am waitressing. Doesn't pay much but its some money."

And then the unthinkable happened. I saw her eyes water a bit. She was desperately trying to hold back tears. She saw my eyes on hers so she immediately looked down. While I could no longer see her eyes I did see her shoulders slump a little and heard a sniff as she tried to re-compose herself.

"I am sorry, Jess. Is there. . um .. can I help . .with .. like . .?" I stumbled through any related words with the best of them, quickly grabbing a napkin to hand to her. She looked up and forced a smile as she took the napkin. She carefully dabbed the corners of her eyes, to not smear makeup I assume.

"I am so sorry Dr. Hamilton. I didn't mean to bring things down. Its just hard without normal employment. Things have gotten . . . difficult. . but I am not going to bother you with that." She said that more for her own instruction than for me. She put on a fake smile and nodded to herself as if she was determined to move on. Apparently I wasn't ready to move on.

"Jess, this is no bother at all. What can I do?" I felt a little desperate. I discovered years ago that when my undergrads, especially girls, came to my office and broke down that I pretty much was at their mercy. Seeing a young women crying about killed me. Want an A?? You got it!! You want a two month extension on your project?? No problem! Want me to come over and mow your lawn? What time??!! So here was Jess, holding back tears, and I immediately went into help-so-she-stops-crying-in-front-of-me mode.

She let out a slightly sarcastic laugh and said, as if it was an aside, "well unless you have a less expensive apartment laying around empty then I am afraid you really can't." But then she tried to soften the sarcasm, "but thank you so much, Dr. H, for being concerned. I will be fine!"

"You can't afford your apartment rent?" She just nodded. But then she added again, "But I will figure it out. No worries!" Brave face mask and forced smile to cover the tears. I appreciated her trying but I could tell. I may not be intuitive but I could easily read that.

Ok, my mind started to work through this as I took the pause to sip. After Diane was .. gone . . I moved to a smaller loft apartment downtown. I generally liked being alone but I did have a second bedroom. Could I have her rent from me there? Would that be weird? Would I be creepy to bring it up?? I liked Jess. I would hate for her opinion of me to drop thinking I was some sicko old pervert type. And then there would be the issue of her broadcasting that realization all over social media. If she freaked out over the suggestion, I could gain a pretty sketchy reputation pretty quickly.

Apparently me thinking through things is pretty obvious as she had this look on her face, trying to figure me out. She watched me very carefully, seemingly battling with whether to interrupt my overly focused thinking. I interrupted it for her. "Ok Jess, I am going to just say this. Wait, no I am not. I am going to caveat then I am going to say this."

She looked confused. That's ok, thats exactly how I felt too.

"You can absolutely say no. You will not be hurting me in any way. But I cannot sit by and let you suffer. and stuff. . " (yes, I wax eloquent when I get nervous) "If you are uncomfortable in any way with this then I would understand. Frankly its a little odd and not something I normally would consider. To be clear I have never offered this in any capacity to anyone else before. But you shouldn't take this to mean that I am. . um .. well I don't want you uncomfortable you see?"

She looked unbelievably confused. Her hand laid on top of mine as if to get my attention "I am so sorry Dr. Hamilton, but I am not following you. What can I say no to?"

I breathed in and then breathed out "Well I have this extra bedroom at my loft . . ." I let the words trail off but then thought better of it as I watched her frown start to form so I quickly added, ". . . .and you could always rent from me until you get back on your feet. No pressure!" I used the universal hands up move. "Just I have the space, you know. . and . .. " And then I trailed off again as I watched the wheels seemingly start turning for her.

Now, I am very conscious about how I come across to my students. I generally teach mostly young women as my courses are related to elementary education so I tread very lightly. At this point I was feeling immense amounts of panic as I had climbed over the fence guarding the separation between professional and personal. But then I thought that she was no longer my student. And heck, I am twice her age so its not like she would ever even consider anything beyond a simple renter/ landlord relationship.

"Dr. Hamilton, you are so sweet to offer, but you don't have to do that" She was tearing up again. Why was she tearing up again??!! Good Lord, I thought my solution would stop the whole crying thing. Think fast Lane! "Jess, a room and a shared bathroom, kitchen and living room. Its no different than another apartment. And I want to help. Maybe you can help cook sometimes or something. . . " My words trailed off again as I wasn't sure this was getting through. God I hate to see this girl crying. Please make her stop.

She had to seriously wipe her tears and blow her nose a bit using the napkin on the table. She even made that seem proper. And then she let out a sigh as if she was holding her breath for quite awhile. "How much?" She managed quietly. I think it wasn't pride that was making this difficult. She just was such a together girl and this must be new territory for her. My heart was breaking for her. For the love of God say yes Jess!

"I don't really care. What's reasonable? What can you afford?" I was trying to remain firmly in the being encouraging side of things, as opposed to being a creepy old guy trying to get a pretty girl to say yes to living in an apartment with him.

"Um . . ." She was thinking. That's a good sign. "I pull in like $800/ month." She was almost whispering. She was clearly very embarrassed. I know that I couldn't give it to her for free. She wouldn't take it at all. I would be fine giving it to her as the money didn't matter at all. But she would never go for it. She needed to know that she was contributing. She was the good girl. Good girls do their parts.

"How about $200/ month and you help clean, cook and do laundry?" She nodded and even smiled a little. "Of course you should probably check out said living arrangements before agreeing" I smiled. Her eyebrows raised with the should-I-be-worried look.

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Jess didn't have much stuff when she moved in that Monday .. Just clothes, some books, a laptop and a small box of mementos like framed pictures and such. She apparently had been renting from a furnished apartment complex so all was provided there. And now she was moving into the luxuriously furnished apartment of a 40 something year old bachelor! Yeah, lets say that it was functional.

The spare room had my desk and computer in it, but I could move my computer elsewhere. And the bed was just a single that my brother didn't need anymore. I didn't keep much furniture from my previous house. I couldn't. It was just too hard.

She settled quickly, getting everything looking just right. She had eyed the sad looking comforter and sheet set on her bed so I insisted we go out and buy a new set. She protested but I told her it was up for replacing anyway. Having a woman's eye again was a good thing. Things had gotten a bit drab to say the least. I liked the idea of having color in my life. Jess was color.

Once sheets and comforter was renewed and her room was properly ordered she immediately went to the kitchen. She asked me for a full tour to be sure she knew where all was. There wasn't much so that was accomplished rather quickly. Cooking for one is both sad and not always sensible so I was a what-is-easiest kinda guy. I think she was looking forward to cooking and I could tell in how she approached everything in those first few days that she was determined to earn her keep. She even cleaned the bathroom in the first few hours, although I am pretty sure it was in her own self-interest on that one.

Our routine in that first week became pretty predictable. Well with Jess everything can become pretty predictable. I heard her get up at 6:00 am every day, which was my prompting to roll over and go back to sleep. She would go jogging in the park next to the building for about a half hour, jump in the shower and be dressed by 7:00 am. She then would work on job searching until 8:30, cook breakfast, clean up and then dress for her job. She would leave a cooked breakfast for me in the microwave to be heated, running on a three day pattern of pancakes and bacon, then eggs and sausage, and finally a breakfast sandwich with eggs, cheese and ham. That first week, considering breakfast alone, was the best eating I had in a year.

She was always back at 4:00 pm as she did the lunch shift, helped cook dinner and then always tried to clean up. My philosophy was the one who cooks gets to cheer on the other one as he or she cleans. She argued with me every night that first week. I won on that argument. Turned about to one of very few victories with her. Let's call her determined. Then we would hang out until about 10:00 pm doing our own thing or watching something and then head to bed. Like clockwork.

She started to do some binge watching of an older television series on Netflix called Chuck. She had never seen it, so I had suggested it as I thought she needed some laughing in her life. I think I actually got that idea pretty spot on as she would giggle for like two hours straight. The romantic tension in the show seemed to be a nice touch for her too.

By Friday everything seemed set in stone. Well almost. I had just come back to my room from the bathroom (see 10:00ish plus time slot in the Jess schedule above) and was stripping down when I heard a small vocalization. I stopped right next to the bed with my hands ready to pull back the sheet and blanket, listening close. And then it happened again. It was Jess, but she wasn't saying words. More like . .moans maybe. I was hoping she was alright so I just listened, ready to go to her room and knock on the door and check on her. Good thing I waited before doing that.

The moans increased in frequency and in volume. Interestingly they would peak and then it would get quiet for a bit, almost as if she realized that she was getting loud and she tried to control it. It didn't require a doctorate to figure out what was happening. There definitely wasn't any pain going on next door.

Now, if I was going to try to avoid being creepy and a perv I would have just turned on some music or something to let her have her privacy. But the issue was that it was Jess! And she was pleasuring herself! Holy moly that is pretty hot. I hadn't been so turned on in . . . well a long time. Of course in that stage in life I could get turned on easily. But lets say I hadn't been that instantly turned on in quite some time.

And I should be forgiven for being fascinated by this. Let's take inventory shall we? I am a dude. And she is beautiful and nearby. The logic runs its course.

I really couldn't be helped for letting my mind wander, visualizing her laying on the bed. Was she using her fingers? Or did she have something to help her? And was she completely naked or just partly? Bottomless would be pretty hot. At that point an appendage of my body began to respond and then I felt like a dirty old man. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Not while I could hear her. If I listen and enjoy my little perv moment BUT THEN treat her with respect tomorrow when I next see her then all would be fine. That was my rationalization and I was definitely sticking to it.