(NOTE: This is part one of a multi-part story. It’s much more of a slow-building story line than what I’ve attempted before, so apologies if it doesn’t land right away.)
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Freshman year was not kind to Jonah. Or rather, it didn’t begin that way.
Near the end of summer the school he was due to attend, the school where all his friends would go, was redistricted and Jonah would instead head off to the newly opened Shermer High School. As if the jump from middle school to high school wasn’t frightening enough, he would have to do it without familiar company. To make matters worse, while most of the boys his age were hitting growth spurts left and right, Jonah remained a pale, short, skinny kid with mop of frustratingly straight brown hair and thick glasses. It was a look that would later become very popular, but did almost nothing for him at the time. He was “cute” when he wanted to be “hot”, or at least that’s what he thought girls wanted.
Two weeks in, Jonah had pretty well figured out how to navigate the labyrinthine corridors and hallways of Shermer High School to get from one class to the next while minimizing his exposure to the upper classmen. As a nerdish, bespectacled kid, Jonah knew he was a prime target for bullying and reacted accordingly, scurrying quickly from classroom to locker to classroom while keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact whenever possible. “Prey know they’re prey,” was an expression Jonah had recalled hearing once. It seemed applicable in his current situation.
Prey eventually run into the predators at some point and although Shemer High School was huge, it was still a closed system which meant Jonah could only avoid the inevitable for so long. That moment came on a Monday, just three weeks into the start of the year.
Despite Jonah’s heightened awareness, the predator–the bully, caught him completed off guard. One second he was hustling down the main freshman hallway from first to second period, the next he was flying forward, tripping over a large sneaker. Jonah’s books clattered spectacularly into the hard surface and he came sprawling into the floor after them, only barely breaking his fall with an outstretched hand. The force of impact knocked the glasses right off his face and left him staring up at a crowd of badly-blurred and loudly laughing shapes. Jonah’s vision was so bad without his glasses, he couldn’t identify his assailant, even has he taunted him.
“Walk much, dork?” said one of the blurry person-sized shapes.
Jonah’s hand ached from the fall but his pride was much more badly bruised. He felt heat rising from his chest up into his face and he clenched his teeth, trying to bite back the tears that were forming in the corner of his eyes.
“Oh my god, are you actually gonna cry?” the bully continued. Blood was in the water.
A toxic mixture of embarrassment, fear and rage flooded Jonah’s system and before he knew it, he was on his feet in a fighting stance, facing the blur that seemed most likely to be the one talking. And just like that, shouts of “Fight! Fight!” exploded down the hallway and a semi-circle of onlookers surrounded Jonah and the bully.
“Really? You wanna fight me?”
Jonah didn’t, not really, but he was too angry and humiliated to just take it.
“No one is fighting anyone,” came a woman’s voice from behind Jonah. “Donald, you’re going to be late for math,” she said to the bully. “Get out of here before I write you up. And the rest of you better scatter,” she warned the crowd.
The woman picked up Jonah’s glasses. “I’m guessing you’re pretty blind without these, eh?”
Jonah slipped the glasses back on with a sigh of relief–not broken. He turned to look at this savior.
She was short, though not as short as Jonah. Black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Sharply pressed, white cotton dress shirt tucked into a conservative, knee-length beige skirt. Black flats with no socks. She was Miss Sarah Maarten, Earth Sciences teacher. As in, Jonah’s second period teacher. He thought she was very pretty. Gorgeous, really.
Sarah helped Jonah collect his books and papers from the hallway floor. As she was bending over, Jonah happen to glance up and caught a glimpse of white–Miss Maarten’s panties. He pointedly looked away, blushing, but the image lingered in mind’s eye.
“Are you okay? It’s Jonah, right?” Miss Maarten asked gently.
Sore hand, bruised pride, and still coming down from the river of adrenaline that had poured into his bloodstream just moments earlier–Jonah did not feel okay. He felt like slinking away into a dark corner somewhere. Yet, he tried to put on a tough front.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jonah said, trying (and failing) to sound indifferent.
“It’s not easy being a freshman, is it?” Sarah empathized.
“I said, I’m fine,” Jonah snapped, still trying seem unphased.
On the inside, Miss Maarten sighed, remembering just how difficult it was at that age. To Jonah, she simply nodded and said, “Okay. Better get to second period.”
And just then, the bell rang which meant Jonah would be late to his next class. He sighed, and started to head down the hallway.
“Jonah, wait,” said Miss Maarten. She handed him a small yellow slip of paper. “Late note, just in case.” She smiled at him.
Jonah smiled weakly, and took the note. “Thanks, Miss Maarten.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you in sixth period.”
The rest of the day unfolded without further incident, though Jonah had yet to make any new friends and so had no one to commiserate with. He found himself looking forward to sixth period because it was the last class of the day, because science was his favorite subject, and because he would get to see Miss Maarten again.
Jonah showed up at Sarah’s classroom well before any of his classmates and took a seat near the front of the room. Miss Maarten smiled warmly at him and started to say something when a pack of kids stormed into the classroom, talking and laughing at maximum volume. Sarah shared a sympathetic shrug with Jonah and then got on with the business of settling down the class for the day’s lesson.
About halfway through the lesson, Miss Maarten had everyone working silently on an assignment. She was pacing slowly up and down the narrow aisles of desks, stopping intermittently to help a student here or there. At one point, she paused to help a student to Jonah’s left. Miss Maarten leaned over to get a better look at the student’s paper and her fine, skirt-clad bottom rubbed up against Jonah’s arm.
Sarah said nothing, perhaps not even realizing that her butt had brushed against his arm. Jonah most certainly took note and pulled his left arm in from the edge of his desk, terrified she might think he had touched her on purpose. Miss Maarten’s butt hovered inches from his face. He could see the clear outline of her panties beneath her beige skirt and felt himself start to blush. Jonah quickly turned away, feeling guilty for looking. But it was too late–he could feel himself getting hard and soon his erect penis was straining painfully against his underwear.
Jonah was no stranger to mid-day erections. Or, early morning erections. Or, evening erections. Any time of the day erections–he was, afterall a young teenage boy in puberty. But they were immensely frustrating, and potentially embarrassing on a monumental level when they happened in class. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to find a position where his cock wouldn’t be trapped so painfully by his underwear, but also no so obvious that anyone would notice. Nothing really helped, though. Well, one thing could, but there wasn’t any way that could happen in class.
Eventually, the assignment time was over and Miss Maarten began seeking volunteers to come up to the chalkboard to share their answers. Jonah, still struggling to contain his erection, slumped down into his chair. ‘Please don’t pick me,’ he thought desperately.
Though it was only three weeks into the school year, Sarah had identified Jonah as a particularly bright and curious student. She was confident he had the correct answers, and thinking that he might like to get a win, a little self-esteem boost, called upon him to come up and share his answers.
Miss Maarten watched a wave of anxiety roll over Jonah’s face, and he shook his head feverently side to side, clearly indicating “no.”
“Aw, come on, Jonah. I know you can help us with this assignment,” Sarah encouraged. Still, Jonah remained in his chair, his classmates staring, and some whispered laughs started circulating around the room. Not wanting to torture the poor kid any further, she said, “Okay, not this time then. We’ll put someone else in the hot seat,” and selected another student for the task.
Eventually, the dismissal bell rang, the lesson ended and everyone quickly poured out of the classroom. Jonah was nearly out the door when Miss Maarten called him back. She waited until the last student exited the room before speaking to Jonah.
“I know you said you’re okay, but are you really? It’s alright if you’re not–what happened to you earlier today had to feel bad,” she sympathized.
Jonah, relieved hadn’t been held back for some unintentional wrongdoing, nodded and said, “I’m fine, Miss Maarten.”
“Why wouldn’t you come up to the board earlier?” she asked.
“I, uh,” Jonah stammered. “Just, didn’t have the answers.”
Miss Maarten frowned. She was only a couple of years into her teaching career, but already she had developed a keen sense for when she was being lied to. “I don’t think that’s the real reason,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what was really going on.”
Jonah felt his face burning, finding some new level of embarrassment. He didn’t know what else to say, except the truth. “I couldn’t come up to the board because I had an erection and I didn’t want everyone to see, okay?” The words tumbled out of his mouth so quickly it took Sarah a moment to parse what he’d said.
‘Poor kid,’ she thought, not for the first time that day. A fit, young teacher in her mid-twenties, she was not a stranger to the horniness of teenage boys. They were practically slaves to their own hormones at times. Puppets, really. Jonah was such a sweet, seemingly innocent kid, it hadn’t occurred to her that he was also fighting that internal battle.
Against her better judgment, she put a hand on his shoulder, thinking the physical contact might reassure him, and said, “I’m so sorry, Jonah. I honestly didn’t know.”
Jonah looked down at his shoes, too embarrassed to speak.
She knelt in front of him, putting both hands on his shoulders to try and get his attention. He did finally look up at her, still red in the face.
“Tell you what–if you ever find yourself in that situation again, just give me a look and I’ll know what it means. I promise I will not call any attention to you.”
‘Oh sure, I’ll just give you a look to let you know my dick is so hard I can’t stand up,” Jonah thought sardonically. ‘That’ll really make things better!’
“It’s nothing you should be ashamed of, Jonah. I know you don’t have any control over something like that. It’s just part of life!” Miss Maarten said, trying to sound reassuring.
“If you say so, Miss Maarten,” Jonah replied, still feeling uneasy.
“Absolutely! Besides, you’re a handsome guy–it wouldn’t…” she trailed off, realizing she had strayed into very dangerous territory. ‘What the hell was I going to say?’ she cursed herself. ‘That I wouldn’t mind seeing that little tent in your pants? Jesus, Sarah, get a fucking grip!’
Jonah looked at his teacher oddly, wondering just where she was going with that sentence.
Miss Maarten shook her head and sputtered, “Anyway, you know what I mean, right?”
Jonah honestly did not. “Uh, sure.”
“OK, well, I don’t want you to be late for your bus. Have a good afternoon, Jonah!” she said, standing up quickly and scurrying over to her desk. Jonah paused for a moment, still trying to digest what had gotten her all bothered, before finally heading out the classroom door.
Sarah Maarten looked out at the empty classroom and let out a deep sigh. “You seriously need to get laid, girl,” she said to vacant space.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/54y915/jonah_and_the_world_around_him_pt1_mf