We sat there in her car, the club was distant and the quiet was closing in. I could hear my heart racing in my ears. I moved my leg but I couldn't hide my erection in my tight jeans. Emma could see it, she would know. But she wasn't looking. She was staring out, at the row of parked cars.
"I was skipping your class because I didn't know what to say to you." She answered my question from back in the club. "If I saw you again, I knew you'd just keep pushing me away."
"I don't like pushing you away." I admitted.
"Then stop." She said.
I could hear the tears in her voice. She turned the key and the car rumbled to life. Her smile was back on her face as she pulled on the road. I tucked my hands under my legs. I wanted to touch her. I couldn't touch her.
"I know you like me." She laughed.
"I can't like you, Emma."
For the first time I wondered what was behind that laugh. How she switched from sadness to laughter so quickly.
"Let's go back to my house." She said. "My mom isn't home."
"I am going to my house." I told her. "And you are going to yours."
"But that's no fun." She whined.
"Why would you not want to date someone your age? I'm old and I'm boring!"
"Does that mean we're dating?" She smirked.
"You wouldn't like me if we started dating."
"I know you have a big dick." She told me. "I'm betting I'd like other stuff too."
"I can't believe you just said that." I covered my face with my hands.
But underneath the shame it felt good. What man wouldn't feel good after hearing that?
"Will you come to my house and let me see what else I like about you?" She asked. "Or do you want to tell me where you live?"
"I live on Main Street near 57th street."
"I live on Main and 60th. We're practically neighbours."
Oh no. Oh no. no no no no no.
"That doesn't mean you can make house calls.' I told her.
"Not even if I'm have trouble with my homework?"
"Maybe then. But call first!"
"I don't have your number."
"That's also on the syllabus."
"I threw it away."
"I write these things for a reason. They take time. They take effort. It's so you know what to expect from me. And I know what to expect from you."
"What should I expect from you?" She asked.
I felt her fingers on my leg. My hands were bunched into fists, my fingernails dug into my palms. The bright lights of downtown Main Street gave way to the dark, shadowy trees. The dark lights, the closed curtains of sleepy houses. Her hand was moving up down, wrapping around my cock though fabric. My voice was stuck in my throat.
I needed to stop her. It felt so good.
"Touch me." She said, her eyes never leaving the road. "Please."
Her hand tugged at zipper on my jeans, pulling me free. Her grasp was firm, her thumb moved up over the head of my cock. And for one second, I got a taste of what it would be like to fuck Emma.
I grabbed her hand.
"I can't." I told her. "I'm sorry, I really can't."
"But you want me." She said. "And I want you. So why not?"
"We may not know each other that well, but I do know you'll regret it if you're not with someone your own age. And I will regret it if I take advantage of you."
She pulled to a stop on the corner of 57th street. She was gone as soon as I slammed the car door shut.
****
The next week I barely spoke to Emma. She came to class, sat though my lessons, and then left when it was over. She didn't come by after school. She didn't write me any more notes. Everything was exactly as it should be.
And I hated it.
I was always watching her out of the corner of my eye. She started wearing jeans to school instead of her short skirts. Her make-up was softer, more subtle. The memory of her hand on my cock started feeling distant and dream like.
But it happened, I know it happened. I could see it every time I closed my eyes. Her hand wrapping around my me while my fists were bunched under my legs. I had been ready to come as soon as she touched me.
I sat at my desk, my head in my hands. I couldn't do this. I couldn't keep fantasizing about her, this wasn't right!
Maybe I needed to get a girlfriend.
"Mr Wilson." I heard Emma calling my name.
Oh god, I think I might be getting a little too lost in my fantasies.
"Mr Wilson!" She said again.
I opened my eyes. Fuck, this wasn't a fantasy. She was standing in the doorway to my classroom. Her hair was in braids and her sweater had slid down one shoulder. It was different sort of appealing, in a girl next door sort of way. But it seemed inauthentic.
We were alone again. Everyone else had gone home for the day. Fuck, I hadn't realised just how much I was dying to be alone with her. I dug my nails into my leg.
"I'm not going ambush you, if that's what you're worried about." She told me.
"I'm not." I swallowed. "Worried about it. I'm not."
"Does that make it okay if do then?" She smiled. Then she frowned. "Sorry I wasn't going to hit on you anymore."
"There's never been a problem with you hitting on me." I told her. "The problem is that I liked it. I let it go too far. But I don't want you to feel guilty about something you have no reason to feel guilty about. I don't want you to feel ashamed."
"David I..." Her voice trailed off. She swallowed. "Mr Wilson, you're on the list of people chaperoning the dance next week."
Fuck, was it that time again? I hated chaperoning these things.
"If it says so, I guess I am." I said.
"We're doing a Frost Fair theme." She said. "Since it's so close to Christmas."
"Wait, I didn't know you were on the activities committee."
"Well they always need people." She tucked her braids behind her ears. "And chess club didn't work out so I still need those extra curriculars for my applications."
"Come to chess club." The words, they just fell out.
"Are you sure it's a good idea?" She asked.
"Maybe it's not." I shrugged. "But I don't like seeing you acting like you're someone you're not."
"I thought you would like me more if I were serious."
"You're fine the way you are."
"If I saw you every day, I might end up hitting on you again."
"I don't care." I told her. "Let's play."
"I'm not finished confirming the chaperone list for the dance."
"Oh." I was suddenly, very disappointed.