Ask your sister if she’s heard any gossip about Ms. Fellows

It’s a long walk home, and by the time you get there, you’ve decided you should ask your sister Abbie if she knows anything about Ms. Fellows hitting on students in her class. For all you know, she could make a habit of picking one shy senior from her class every school year to mess around with for the summer. It sounds like the plot of a porn video, but it makes more sense to you than thinking she couldn’t help herself from approaching you in particular.

Abbie was more interested in what was going on socially when she was in high school than you ever were. She saw more of what was happening and has more connections with people who might have gossiped about Ms. Fellows. She’ll know more about what’s going on.

As you approach your house, you see Abbie’s car is in the driveway. You walk in the front door and call out. “I’m home,” as you kick off your sneakers. “Hey Abs, you busy? I have something I wanted to ask you about.” You walk upstairs and toss your backpack on your bed.

“Hold on, beanpole,” Abbie’s voice comes from her room, “I’m getting changed.” After a minute or two, she says, “OK, come on in. What’s up?”

You open the door to your sister’s room and find her sitting in front of her dresser, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. You nod hello to her. “First, I want you to promise that you won’t tell anyone about what I’m going to tell you. I don’t want this to cause any trouble.”

“Sure,” she says, sounding a little concerned, “I can keep it between us.”

You continue, “When you were in high school, did you have any English classes with Ms. Fellows, or know anybody who did?”

Abbie shakes her head. “I didn’t, but I think some of my friends did. Why?” She looks at you curiously.

“Well,” you start a bit uncomfortably, “something kinda weird happened today. It was, um, like Ms. Fellows was hitting on me. Have you heard anything about her doing that with one of her students before?”

Your sister busts out laughing. “You think Ms. Fellow’s was coming on to you? I remember her, she’s like the hottest teacher in the school. Why would she be interested in your skinny ass?” She shakes her head “Maybe you’re just misreading something? You don’t have a lot of experience talking to women. No offense — you’re a decent-looking guy, but for the most part, adult women aren’t looking for high school kids. Especially since doing anything with you could ruin her career.”

“That’s why I say it was weird.” You insist. “She offered me a ride home after school, but then we ended up going to her place instead. She told me to call her Emily. She kept talking about how close I am to graduation, like counting the days, and said that she could get fired for doing what she wanted to do with me before then because I’m her student. Seriously Abs, she was definitely more than just hinting. You know I don’t read subtle signals at all. She was being obvious.”

“Wait… she really took you to her place.” Abbie frowns. “That is strange. Why?”

“Well, she said it was to make a phone call to help me find a summer job. But even before that she was acting really odd, like… suggestive. I’m just wondering if she’s done something like this before. Like, does she have a thing for young guys and does this with a graduating senior every summer or something?”

Abbie looks skeptical. “I think there would be rumors about it at least if she did. I’ll ask some of the guys I know from high school though.” She grins wickedly at you. “It’ll be quite a story if you aren’t imagining things, Stretch, going all the way through high school never talking to a single girl, then losing your cherry to your hot teacher.” She snickers.

“Yeah… I kinda don’t know how much to be turned on and how much to be freaked out.” You tell her.

Your sister shrugs, “No reason you can’t be both. Sometimes being a little uneasy makes things hotter.”

“Not helping, Abs,” you say.

“Not trying, Beanpole,” she replies and laughs. “I figure if you’ve got a shot with Ms. Fellows, you don’t need my help. You can at least let me have a little fun.”

The rest of the evening seems relatively normal — dinner, watch some TV with mom, then watch some porn in your room before you go to bed and jerk off. The whole time you keep replaying in your mind everything that happened with Ms. Fellows, trying to figure out if it all really meant what you thought it did. You can’t think of any other way to look at it though.

The next morning as you’re walking to the bus stop, Ms. Fellows car pulls up next to you. “Dave, can I give you a ride to school? It’s important that I talk to you about yesterday.” She sounds upset.