I glance at the clock on my dashboard as I drive my ${car type} towards my English teacher's house. It was just after 2 pm, I frowned knowing I would be a few minutes late, but I doubted Mrs. ${Teacher's Last Name} would mind too much...She was usually pretty chill. I was doing her a favor, after all, coming by to help her grade essay papers on the weekend. Though truth be told, I was glad to do it. I had developed a healthy interest in Mrs. ${Teacher's Last Name} over the last few months of being in her class. She's kind, funny, and pretty, a killer combination. Her nice, hourglass figure didn't hurt.
I turn down her street and find her place a few houses down. The neighborhood is older but still well-kept, and her house is modest. The lawn is mowed and there's a trio of well-tended rose bushes under the window at the front of the house, along with a few pots of flowers on the walk up towards the doorstep. I park and pull my mirror down to look at myself for a moment, running a hand through my ${Your hair color} hair. It'll do.
Getting out of my car, I lock up and smooth out my clothes before jogging up towards the door and knocking. She answers a few minutes later, smiling at me. "Hey, ${Your Name}, you just missed the pizza guy leaving. I hope you like Meat Lover's, because that's what I got. Come on in. I have some soda in the fridge, too." She stepped back and let me in. Seeing her outside of class is a little strange, she's dressed so casually, in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt of a rock band, "Siouxie and the Banshees". Her long ${Her hair color} hair was down for once, instead of swept up into a ponytail. I could get used to seeing her like this. Taking a brief look around, I noticed a large stereo system and a nice supply of records. It was clear she was a music lover as well as a book lover.
I took off my jacket and hung it near the door, "Nice place, Mrs. ${Teacher's Last Name}."
She laughed and shook her head, "You can call me ${Teacher's First Name}. It's the weekend, relax."
I smiled back at her and we began to get to work grading the essays, taking a break here and there to eat pizza. It was grueling work, and the hours ticked away. At some point, she switched from soda to beer. When she asked if I minded, I emphatically encouraged the idea. After all, I told her, she wasn't driving, it was her home, she might as well. I was eager for other reasons, though... It might help me in the long run.
One beer turned into two, but she drank pretty reasonably. It was getting late. She got up and stretched, presumably to go to the fridge for the third beer, "Do you need anything?" I shook my head and got up, too, needing to stretch my legs. I looked at the fireplace mantle, noticing pictures of her and her husband there for the first time. The memory hit me suddenly, she was a widow, I was in my Junior year when she lost her husband. She came back and noticed me look at the pictures and sort of froze, perhaps not knowing what to do for a moment.
I step away, laughing nervously, "Nice pictures. I...Uh, I'm sorry about your husband. That must have been hard." She relaxed a little bit and nodded, sitting down on the couch. I decided to get a little closer, sitting next to her rather than on the other chair. "Do you want to talk about it...?" I felt kind of stupid asking her this, why would an adult talk to a student about her problems? But at the same time, it seemed like the thing to do.
She didn't look directly at me, instead taking a sip of her beer and then looking at her hands, seeming to consider it. She seemed...lonely, for lack of a better word. It somehow showed on her face, her careful facade was lowered. She began talking about him, slowly at first, though it seemed easier for her as it went along. She drank more, I guess forgetting to be careful, switching now to a harder drink. I got the sense that she had a well-stocked liquor cabinet. By the time she finished, she was well past buzzed. I had slowly made my way casually closer to her, until our thighs pressed together. As she drank, she began to naturally lean towards me while she talked until her weight comfortably rested against me and my arm was resting lightly around her shoulder.
She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, "Ugh, I'm sorry...I feel like an idiot, I shouldn't be telling you all of this."
She tried to sit up but I held her fast, pulling her back against me gently, "It's okay...You should let it out..." She laughed and shook her head, embarrassed, but she didn't immediately pull away again. It seems the liquor was messing with her normal sense of propriety. "You know, you're very beautiful... You shouldn't be so lonely..."
She blushed and pushed against my chest playfully, "Shut up..."
I gripped her shoulder a little more tightly, pulling her more closely to me. I could smell her perfume, it was soft, pleasant, earthy. Her eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen through her drunk fog. I leaned forward and kissed her, sliding my hand into her long hair and gripping slightly to press my lips against hers. She seemed shocked numb for a moment, then responded in kind, relaxing against me slowly with a soft moan. It was very brief, however, she snapped back to her senses and tried to push me away, "No, we can't!"
I grasp her hand and pull it to the side, keeping my grip on her shoulder, "Don't worry..."