Amy seems to get it

Matt found it distracting trying to tutor Amy while she pressed close to him, ostensibly so she could see what he was writing but somehow always managing to press a tiny breast against his arm or her long naked legs against his jeans. Repeatedly, she touched him in the arm, on the thigh, or even on his cheek as they worked together. Distracted or not, they'd made it through their homework by the time Mrs. Hartman drove up to the front of Matt's family's apartment.

Mrs. Hartman dug through her purse and pulled out a couple of twenties. "I don't have exact change. Can you credit us ten bucks against tomorrow's work?"

He was going to get thirty bucks every day? Life was sounding better. If he could just find a way to add some blowjobs, he'd change his mind about what a disaster this move had been.

"Sure, Mrs. Hartman."

She put a finger on his lips. "Eliza, remember."

"Uh, yeah."

"Listen, Matt. Amy... I mean I was wondering if you were planning on going to the dance Friday."

With forty bucks in his pocket and several girls asking if he planned to go, the answer had to be yes. On the other hand, he didn't want to seem too eager. "I'm thinking about it," he said.

"I hope you do. It would be nice to have some nice boys there. Some of the kids at the High School are, well, creeps."

Matt wondered if he fit into that category. Considering the fantasies and thoughts he kept having, probably. "I'll only go if Amy promises me at least one dance," he said.

"Amy?" Eliza smiled. "Think you can do that?"

"Uh, sure. Why not?"

Eliza brushed her fingers across Matt's cheek. "You're a nice kid, Matt. Thanks for helping."

Like most high school students, Matt was so wrapped up in his own problems, he'd never really thought about what it would be like to be someone like Amy... a girl who was so close to being pretty, with a cute figure, incredible legs, and a beautiful mother, but with a disfiguring groove across her face like a mule had kicked her. It wouldn't be easy to be an ugly guy, but for girls, it would be worse. Everyone, and Matt included himself in that number, judged girls by their looks.

The evil side of Matt's mind couldn't help wondering how grateful Amy might be for some attention at the dance. Could he finally get that blowjob he'd been fantasizing about ever since he'd been twelve and tuned into his first porn video?