A Few Beautiful Moments

I should have feared Megan the very moment that she stepped into my classroom. I didn't notice her at first. The girl was just another student who was cute and looked vaguely familiar.

Megan stood at about 5'4" with an athletic build. Her auburn hair was in a French braid, reaching down to just below her shoulder blades.

That first week, I found myself looking into her eyes as she stared into mine. We both froze, a bit startled. I couldn't help but to notice that they were an intriguing shade of chocolate brown. They seemed to sparkle. I thought I could see the subtle hint of mischief hiding just beneath the surface.

I held Megan's gaze for just a bit too long. I sensed that something inexplicable was happening. I quickly dismissed the thought.

You see, I knew better. Don't cross that line, don't abuse your authority, don't even think of doing something that could jeopardize your career and reputation. That had been drilled into my head, and yet, it seemed as if I might have been doing exactly that.

I wisely decided to keep my distance from Megan. I was a professional. She was just another senior in high school who had to suffer through my history class. Yes, she'd caught my attention but I knew how to handle myself.

Or at the least, that's what I told myself.

Just before Thanksgiving, Megan, lingered after class. I noticed her after dealing with the usual gaggle of question-askers. Once they'd dispersed, Megan approached and said with a slight blush, "I wanted to apologize." She noted the confusion on my face and factually stated, "You don't remember me, do you?"

"We've met?" I asked, feeling my pulse rise. Her killer smile, the sound of her voice, and those keen intelligent eyes were getting to me. Megan, I decided, had officially become a distraction.

She looked away as she continued: "You were my teacher when I was in the 7th grade. I was-"

Recognition hit me. "A pain in the ass!" I finished for her and started to laugh. Years ago, she and her clique had been a challenging group. I instantly remembered the sarcasm, eye rolls, the cheating on tests and having to explain that I didn't hate her (which was true) in this conference or that. She was just a typical 13 year old girl who did the minimum to pass.

She laughed too and drily said, "I mean, you don't have to sugar coat it."

"Megan," I said, "I'm so sorry. I can't believe that I didn't recognize you."

"Don't be. It was a while ago, it was a different school, and I guess that I don't look the same."

Megan most certainly did not. Back then, the girl had been all elbows and knees and awkward like a newborn colt. But now?

Well now, Megan was stunning. She had an ample bosom, gentle, sensual curves and the legs of a sprinter. I'd done my best to not notice any of this and failed spectacularly.

In that moment, a spark of excitement flared in my chest. I was a bit flummoxed. I'd never been infatuated with a student and couldn't let that happen. Not ever.

Actions can be controlled. Emotion however, is a horse of a different color.

Megan, I thought, was easily reading my lack of composure. Or maybe not; the next period was going to start soon, so she hurriedly continued. "So yeah, I just wanted to say I'm sorry and that I like your class." She turned and rushed out.

The encounter was a bit confusing. Why the apology? I put the pieces together a bit later. I'd been more formal with her than many of the other students. Megan had logically concluded that it was due to our shared past. But no. That wasn't the case. Not at all.

#

The school year progressed normally. I still tried to see Megan as the others, and failed time and time again. Megan was the highlight of my day, everyday.

In mid December, she visited me during my morning planning period. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Sort of. It's a study hall, so yeah..." She trailed off. "But I figured seeing my favorite teacher is way more important, you know?" I blushed which made her smile. I liked that smile.

In the time since she'd apologized, things had changed. Megan caught me checking her out on several occasions and would flash me a satisfied, knowing grin. This was thin ice for me. I could feel it crack, and yet, I didn't pull back.

Megan, for her part, would innocently find a reason to touch my arm or brush against me. Occasionally, she'd openly flirt. I pretended that I didn't notice, which just served to encourage her and try harder.

We were playing a dangerous game that was intoxicating and addictive. I knew that I should put a stop to it, but didn't. I liked it far too much- No, that's not right. I liked Megan far too much.

That December day, I looked at her, and concluded that she was the most beautiful creature to ever grace God's green earth.

I loved that she was here, but yielded to my sense of responsibility: "You know that I love you, Megan," I said as I went back to grading quizzes, "But if you get caught, I'm not gonna bail you out."

"Fine," Megan said, sounding annoyed, but made no effort to leave. Instead, she walked up behind me at the student desk I was using. I felt her hands on my shoulders, and then she began to rub and massage.

This was too far. "Megan," I said a bit sternly.

"Ten more seconds," She quietly replied. I let her. When she stopped, I was disappointed and relieved in equal measures. "It's my birthday, you know."

"Really" I asked. She nodded. "Happy birthday," I said as I stood up to face her. I gave her a hug that lasted too long. It wasn't inappropriate, but it wasn't completely innocent either.

"I was kinda hoping for a birthday kiss," Megan whispered, sounding a bit nervous. The blood drained from my face.

"I-" but no more words came out. I was flustered.

She laughed. "I was teasing. You need to relax!" I breathed out some of my tension. "Good talk," Megan said. She walked to the door and turned. "But, if you were to give me one, I wouldn't complain," She wore a devilish grin. And then she was gone.

We continued our strange dance over the next two weeks. I knew that she was as drawn to me as I to her. And yet, we found an equilibrium of sorts. The fact that I wanted her was irrelevant. We would continue as we were and go no further.

#

Self delusion is a hell of a thing.

On the last day of class before Christmas break, Megan dropped by. The students had been dismissed and most of the teachers immediately followed. Not me though. I'd procrastinated and needed to get my grades finished.

I lost focus when I heard Megan's voice. "Hey," She said. "I didn't think you'd still be here."

"As it turns out, being a lazy bastard has its consequences," I replied, looking up from my laptop. "What about you? Shouldn't you be enjoying your break right about now?"

"You'd think, but I'm stuck here. My mom decided that today would be a great time to accost teachers."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, the usual BS. Offer constructive criticism in the form of finger pointing and recriminations," Megan explained.

'Yikes! Does she know I'm here?"

Megan took a seat, facing me. "Not yet," she said with a broad smile.

"You're not going to rat me out, are you?"

"Depends."

"On?" I asked.

"On what's in it for me. It'd be a shame if you have an impromptu parent-teacher conference." Megan only had the barest hint of a smile.

My eyes narrowed. I tried to look stern, but her widening grin made it clear that I was failing. "Fine. What do you want?"

A long silence followed. "That birthday kiss," Megan said quietly, now seeming shy.

"Megan..." I said, but she cut me off.

"No one is here, it'll be just a little peck and it'll mean a lot to me," she said. "And, you really are my favorite."

"You're my favorite student," I admitted. I shouldn't have said it, but fuck it. Megan was too intelligent to not where she stood with me.

"Please?"

I stood up. Megan became tense, expecting the worst. I opened my arms and said, "Come here." Megan visibly relaxed and was instantly on her feet. She approached and fell into my arms.

This wasn't a friendly hug. I was holding her. There was no distance. She began nuzzling into my neck. The feel of her breath on my skin and the press of her breasts against me was a beautiful and very wrong moment. I could feel blood rushing to where it shouldn't.

Megan felt it and pulled back just a little. We made eye contact as she breathed out, "Oh my." I shook my head as if annoyed.

"Hush," I said. "Your fault for that." I then leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"That was lame," Megan observed. I pulled her back into me. She was nuzzling into me again and then I felt her give my neck a kiss and then another and another. Each one more aggressive than the last. Megan was grinding against my cock and I was grinding back.

I didn't want it to stop, but we had to. That notwithstanding, I couldn't resist. I tilted her head back and gave a tender, loving kiss that lingered. When it ended, we both took a step back. "That was a one time thing," I said gently. "Ok?"

Megan glanced down and quietly said, "I don't think that's what he wants." She was right. My cock was throbbing. She then leaned close to my ear and whispered, "If it's any consolation, my panties are really wet."

I was going to kiss her again, but the sound of footsteps down the hall sobered us both up. In a rather formal tone, we bid each other a lovely day and a Merry Christmas.

#

The few weeks off weren't great. It gave me too much time to think. I'd lost my bearings. That beautiful girl dominated my thoughts. I regularly fantasized about her, thinking of undressing her, tasting her, making love.

Unsurprisingly, I was gripped by anxiety. What if it got out? What exactly was happening with us? Did we care about one another or had the teasing just gotten out of hand?

I'd been reckless. Rumors alone were enough to destroy my career. And what I'd done wasn't an accident. I knew what I was doing and marched straight into that minefield. Now I was stuck. I couldn't go back, I couldn't go forward, nor could I just stand there. I'd created a perilous, self destructive situation, over which I'd lost control.

So I did the only thing that I could do: I kept my fantasies to myself and spent a nice Christmas with my little sister and her fiancé.

#

When school resumed in January, I felt relief. Apparently, Megan had gotten herself a boyfriend over the break. I'd dodged a bullet. Our game was over, it had gone too far, and now the world was right as rain.

No, that's not true. Something was off about me.

I'd see the pair holding hands or her being all cute with the guy. That annoyed me. The emotions within were a swirling mess. It took me until Wednesday to realize that I was jealous.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked myself more than a few times. I needed to unfuck myself and be thankful for this outcome. So when that didn't happen, I buried my feelings and moved on.

At the end of January, Megan stopped by my class after school. Though she was beautiful, i'd been working on not seeing her that way; Megan was a student- a very good and smart student- but a student, sacrosanct and inviolable. Things were normal, and normal was good.

Megan nervously looked around the room, making sure that it was just us. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What's up?" I stopped clearing the whiteboard and turned to her.

"Are you mad at me?" Megan asked as she took a seat in the front row. Her voice quavering ever so slightly. The poor girl's expression broke my heart.

"No," I said quickly. "Why would you think that?" Knowing full well the complete bullshit of my question.

"You just seem different," Megan said. "You don't look at me the same way that you used to." Warning klaxons went off in my head. Before I could deny her factual and correct point, Megan pressed on. "I don't know what I'm asking for; I just know that I don't like the way things are."

And with that, she stood and hurried out the door. For a moment, I felt dizzy and had to lean against my desk. Don't do anything stupid, I thought. A part of me, probably my dick, said,"Yeah buddy, good luck with that."

So of course, Megan and I began to spend more time together. That, "inviolable," line between student and teacher was getting blurry. I tried to convince myself that it was fine: Megan had a boyfriend and the time we spent together was innocent. She liked to help out, and that help was greatly appreciated.

Megan regularly visited after school or during my planning period. Most of the time, nothing irregular occurred. Megan studied or helped me grade a batch of quizzes. As for me, I was more often than not trying to grade some dense stack of papers that'd I'd stupidly assigned.

The formality reestablished right after the winter break deteriorated to the point of nonexistence. If she cursed and said something like "fuck," I didn't even pretend to not hear. I'd just ask if she kissed her mother with that mouth or offer some other dad joke.

But whenever somebody else was around, Megan would transform into Little Miss Perfect, all prim and proper. I noticed this after a fellow teacher dropped by to vent. Once she left, I began to laugh a little.

Megan knew why and said with real concern, "It's not funny. I don't want you to get into trouble." The point was valid.

One morning in mid February, things escalated between us.

Megan arrived as usual and asked what needed to be done. "Nothing," I replied. "I'm caught up for once." The girl gave me a skeptical look. "What? I can be good at my job sometimes!" Megan's expression didn't change.

"I'm all caught up too," Megan noted, taking a seat. She exhaled noisily. "Ugh. I'm literally gonna die of boredom if I have to go back to that pointless study hall."

"Two things," I noted. "I don't think you actually understand the meaning of, 'literally.' And two: You could try studying there sometimes, but only if you're feeling wild."

Megan looked over her shoulder towards the door. Once she confirmed that it was clear, she flipped me the bird. I dunno. For some reason I found that to be hilarious. "Do you mind if I just hang out?"

"Suit yourself," I replied. "It's good that you're here."

Megan's eyebrows rose in interest. "How's that?"

"If I send you back and you die, there'll be a ton of paperwork. We can't have that."

Megan didn't even bother to check when she flipped me off the second time.

We then did whatever any other bored person would do; we pulled out our respective phones and started to scroll.

After a spell, Megan looked up. "Hey, it's hot as balls in here. Can I open a window?"

She was right- the heater was on full blast. But there was nothing to be done. "No. It's a safety protocol to deter school shooters. No open windows."

"But wouldn't they just shoot through the glass?"

"That's what I said!" Now feeling a bit vindicated. I'd made the exact same point back in August, but was ignored.

"Ugh," Megan said grumpily. After a spell, she asked, "Can I go to the bathroom for a minute?" I nodded, thinking nothing of it. When she came back, she had this naughty look on her face. Megan ignored my unasked question, but quietly said, "I feel so much better."

"Oh?" She nodded, looking mischievous and playful. "What?" I asked, suspiciously.

She laughed and said, "You don't want to know. " But Megan damn well knew that I did. We locked eyes for a long moment. "Ok, but don't say that I didn't warn you..." Her voice trailed off, soft and seductive.

"Tell me," I whispered. I could feel myself getting hard. I had no idea what it was, but Megan's look and the sound of her voice were getting to me.

She beckoned for me to approach. I obeyed. When I leaned over, Megan whispered, "so, I was having trouble getting comfortable. I just took my panties off. It feels sooo good." Her voice was purring. "My pussy likes to be let out sometimes, y'know?".

My eyes went wide and I pulled back as if I'd touched a live wire. Instantly, my cock was hard and pushing against my khakis. Megan noticed and whispered, "Somebody likes that." I retreated back to my desk and quickly sat down.

"You're not serious," I said, knowing that she most certainly was.

Megan was in the standard school uniform for Fridays: A white, starched shirt and a dark blue blue skirt with gold trim. It was supposed to go down to her ankles, but like every Catholic high school girl in the history of humanity, she'd folded the waist over itself so many times that the hem just barely brushed the top of her knees.

Megan didn't respond to my statement. Instead, she gave me her playful, seductive smile.

I couldn't stop myself, because of course I couldn't. "Prove it." I said, raising the stakes.

Megan's mouth opened and her eyes grew wide. "Are you serious?" She mouthed without making a sound. I nodded. "Fine."

She glanced over her shoulder again. It was clear, we were clear. Megan slowly parted her legs as she tantalizingly pulled the hem of the skirt up, revealing more, inch by inch. The tall socks soon gave way to her smooth soft skin. A moment later, I saw the sensual folds of her pussy.

Though it lasted for only a second, I did see that she kept herself neatly trimmed.

"Oh my God..." I choked out, my voice low in amazement. "I can't believe that just happened."

"Oh really?" Megan asked quietly. "Do you want another peek? You know, just to make sure that it did?"

"No," I mumbled, blushing a bit.

"I don't believe you?" Megan said confidently. I reconsidered and told her to show me.

Her eyes locked on to me as she pulled her skirt up. This time she held it for moments longer, allowing me to drink in the sight of her beautiful pussy. I didn't look away until she began lowering it. We locked eyes again. "Are you wet?" I quietly asked.

Megan slowly nodded her head, whispering, "I am so fucking turned on right now." She started to say something else, but the bell rang. "Time for class!" Megan chirped. She popped up and then she was gone.

Over the weekend, I couldn't get her out of my mind. It had gone too far, but fuck it. I was now all in. Whatever this was had taken on a life of its own. I needed to see where the road would take us. I was done trying to convince myself that I was better than this. Obviously, I wasn't.

For the most part, though, I figured that we'd hit the high water mark. Megan still had her boyfriend and they were happy. The next logical step for us wasn't going to happen. The risk was too great, the cost was too high.

My relationship with Megan was complicated, but we were golden. There was no reason to pull back or move forward.

But my calculations were off and something was wrong.

Megan didn't drop by on Monday or Tuesday. I started to worry. I began to imagine that she was spooked. I pictured her feeling uncomfortable around me. I felt terrible.

But then, on Wednesday, Megan hurried into my room and gave me a tight hug.

I started to say something, but she interrupted. "I can't stay." I now understood. Megan was being the adult, and her absence was for my sake, not hers. I appreciated the gesture, even if it did break my heart.

#

In early March, one of the teachers from the English department arranged to take the seniors on a field trip. It was for a production of Hamlet and I was tapped to be a chaperone. This, in my professional opinion, was fucking bullshit.

The trip would last forever, I wouldn't get paid and I'd have no clue as to what the pretentious thespians would be saying. When I tried to back out, Cathy- the teacher responsible for this unmitigated nightmare- growled, "Don't even think about it. You're going and you're going to like it. You fucking owe me."

She was right. Three years before, she'd gotten me out of bind. It was never discussed, nor was it forgotten. I quit my bitching. "This will be great!" I told her.