Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Emily's Lessons (Mf, rom) by Jay Cantrell I am reposting the first five
chapters to fix some glaring spelling and grammar mistakes.  I apologize
and will read things more closely next time.

   Normal disclaimers apply.  If you are younger than 18, or this material
is illegal where you live, please don't read this.  The following depicts a
consensual sexual relationship between an adult and a child younger than
18. If this type of material offends you, please don't read this.  Oh, and
if you just don't want to read this, well, don't read this.

   Chapter 1 Meeting Emily

   I'm not really sure how I got to this point in my life.  I know only
that I am here.

   Things were going fairly smoothly for me, or so I thought, then my wife
of five years decided there wasn't going to be a sixth.  So I packed my
things and moved to an apartment complex in a small suburb of Cleveland,
Ohio.

   That is where my life took a turn.  That was a year ago, and I still am
not sure if it is for the best.

   Since about the third day I lived here, I have developed a friendly
relationship with my neighbor, Susan.  Not the kind of relationship I would
have liked, but a close relationship nonetheless.

   I guess in the past year, you might say I have lusted for her, and she
has trusted me.  I haven't been as obvious as I should have, but I feel the
hair on my neck stand up each time she cries on my shoulder after another
of her not-so-wonderful dates with a not-so-wonderful man.  I have resigned
myself to the fact that this is the nature of our relationship, but I still
hold out hope that one day she will see me for more than just the nice guy
next door.

   A nice guy.  I guess that is me.  My name is Joe.  I just turned 31, and
work as a freelance copy editor, mostly out of my house.  That leaves me a
lot of time for thinking.  But thinking never has been a strong suit with
me.

   I suppose you could say that I am your average, boy-next-door type. 
Definitely not the type a beautiful, successful woman like Susan would be
interested in.

   So, after a year of telling how Susan she would find the right guy
eventually -- how the fact that her dates treated her like dirt wasn't her
fault, how she is a wonderful person -- I was pleasantly surprised when she
knocked on my door one day.  She told me that her niece was coming to visit
and asked if I would like to go to a baseball game Friday.

   I manged to tell her that I thought that was a great idea.  She smiled
her sweet smile and headed back to her apartment.

   I was on Cloud Nine.  Finally, I would get the chance to go out with
Susan, even if it meant going with her niece, too.  A shot to prove to her
that nice guys shouldn't be overlooked.

   After what seemed like an eternity, Friday finally arrived.  I went and
got a hair cut, picked out something nice to wear -- casual, yet striking
-- and waited anxiously for 4:30 to arrive.

   Finally, it was there and there was a light knock on my door.

   I opened the door, expected to be greeted by the sight of the object of
my obsession.

   But it wasn't Susan, it was a gangly blonde girl of about 13, standing
at my door holding a pair of tickets and wearing an Indians hat on her
head.

   "Hi, I'm Emily.  Thanks for taking me to the game," she said.  "I've
never seen a game in person.  It is going to be so much fun."

   Smiling at her exuberance, I replied.  "I hope so.  Where's Susan?"

   My smile faded quickly when she said, "Oh, she has a date tonight." She
must have noticed my disappointment because the huge grin she had been
wearing left, and her green eyes suddenly darted toward the floor.

   "I'm sorry.  You thought you were going with her," she said sadly. 
"That's OK.  I know you don't want to be stuck taking care of me."

   Then she started to trudge back to Susan's.

   Chapter 2 The Game

   "Hey, wait," I called after her.  "Come on back here.  I thought Susan
was going, but hey, you can't just toss away good tickets.  Let me grab a
jacket, and we'll go."

   Suddenly, I had 95 pounds of little girl wrapped around my neck. 
"Really?  Really?" she shrieked.  "We can go?"

   So we went.

   On the trip into the city, I found out about Emily.

   She was 15, but would be 16 in about a month.  She lived on a farm in
northwestern Pennsylvania and hadn't been very much of anywhere.  Spending
the summer with her Aunt Susan, her mother's sister, was going to be the
highlight of her life so far.  Or so she said.

   She told me that her parents acted like she was eight years old, never
letting her go with her friends, barely letting her use the phone.  It took
all of Susan's persuasion to allow her to visit for the summer.  And
believe me, Susan can be very persuasive.

   "Well, I'll make you a deal," I told her.  "If you don't act like a kid,
I won't treat you like one."

   I was rewarded for that small gesture with one of her mega-watt smiles
that seemed to light up the whole inside of the car.

   Truthfully, we had a great time at the game.  We did a little
window-shopping, had a nice dinner and watched the game, talking like we
had known each other for years.

   She was such a great kid that I had no problem treating her like a young
lady.

   Emily was asleep when we pulled into the parking lot at the apartment
complex, looking every bit like the innocent 15-year-old she was.

   Chapter 3 Sweet 16

   After our baseball adventure, Emily became more of a fixture in my house
than at her aunt's.  Despite inviting Emily to spend the summer with her,
Susan still maintained her lifestyle, working late a night or two each
week, and dating on the rest.

   Emily didn't seem to mind, spending the days at the complex's pool and
the evenings draped across my couch watching TV or reading a book.

   Occassionally, Susan would come in to visit, crying on my shoulder or
complaining about what jerks all men were.

   Emily would just catch my eye on these occassions and smile while
shaking her head.

   One evening, just as "SportsCenter" was finishing up, Emily looked at
her watch and said, "Well, it's official."

   Puzzled, I asked her what she was talking about.

   "It's my birthday, silly!" she said.  "I am sweet 16 as of about three
minutes ago."

   I smiled, gave her a little hug and told her "Happy Birthday."

   Then my mind started to race.  Susan hadn't mentioned her birthday to
me. And, knowing Susan, I doubted she even remembered.

   My fears were confirmed the next morning when I asked her what she had
planned for Emily.

   "Shit, is that this week?" she asked.

   "Uh, today.  As in right now, today, this week," I said, hoping she
would get the hint that I couldn't believe she would forget about this.

   "Could you set something up for her?  I am so busy today.  Please?  I
will owe you one," she asked.

   So, of course, I did.

   The funny part was, as I was getting a cake, picking out presents (from
me and from Susan) and gathering the few kids who lived in the complex to
come to her party, it dawned on me that I was doing this less for the
prospect of Susan owing me than for the thought of Emily being
disappointed.

   "She's like the little sister I never wanted," I thought to myself,
chuckling.

   And she was.

   The party was a hit.  We had cake and music, Emily seemed to have a
great time, and the other kids did, too.  In the middle of the party,
Emily's dad called.

   I just caught her end of the conversation, but it seemed that her folks
had figured out their little girl was growing up.

   "Daddy, it's great here.  Susan and her friends are nice, and there is
so much to do.  I really am having a great time."

   She closed her conversation by saying, "That's right, Daddy.  Sweet 16
and never been kissed."

   But she wasn't smiling.

   After her call ended and the kids left, I gave her the present from me,
and Susan handed Emily the one I slipped to Susan as she arrived.

   I got her an Indians T-shirt and a pennant, but from Susan, I picked up
a locket Emily had looked at when we went to the baseball game.

   The trouble of heading into the city and fighting traffic all day was
rewarded when Emily got tears in her eyes when she opened Susan's present.
She launched herself into Susan's arms and hugged her hard.  Susan's eyes
were a little wet too, when she realized how happy Emily was.  It was worth
everything to see these two so excited.  I just sat there grinning stupidly
(OK, I do that a lot) at the sight.

   Finally, Emily came over, plopped on my lap, and gave me a hug, too.

   "Thanks.  I know this came from you," she whispered.  "I don't even
think Sue remember what today was.  But you did.  It means so much to me."

   I patted her on the back and whispered back, "I am glad you like it. 
But don't be too tough on Susan, OK?"

   I figured it was time for me to head home, but Susan stopped me.

   "Can you take Emily out for dinner this evening?" she asked.  "This guy
called and asked me out.  I really want to go.  I really think he might be
the one."

   Of course, I said yes.

   Chapter 4 A new view

   As Emily walked back into the room, I glanced at her and asked if she
would be so gracious as to allow me to treat her to a birthday dinner.

   "After all, it isn't every day a girl turns 16," I said, smiling.

   As I said, Emily wasn't your typical 16-year-old.  She immediately saw
through my gesture, as I expected she would.

   But she wasn't disappointed.

   Glancing at her aunt, she just said, "I can't think of anyone I would
rather spend my evening with, sir." Then gave a small curtsey.

   "OK, I am going to have a shower and get ready, I will pick you up in,
say, an hour?" I told her.

   I figured I was right, this should be a special day for her.  And if no
one else was going to make sure of it, then I damned sure would.

   Promptly at 7 p.m., I knocked on the door to Susan's apartment.

   When the door opened I couldn't believe my eyes.

   Gone was the little girl I had known for a month.  The girl who spent
hours playing video games in her sweatpants at my apartment and still had a
pair of Minnie Mouse slippers.  In her place was a budding young woman,
dressed in a tight blue top and a short (and I do mean short) beige skirt.
When she did a little pirouhette, I felt the strain in my shorts as I
watched her cute little behind shimmy against the fabric of her skirt.

   I often have said, if I can create a 10-second delay between my brain
and my mouth, I would be better off.  This was one of those cases.

   "Jesus, Emily.  Where is the rest of your clothes!" I exclaimed. 
Immediately I felt like a fool.  Her green eyes began to glisten with
moisture, then the tears came quickly.

   "You don't like it?  I just wanted to be beautiful for you," she cried.

   Then began to turn and head back to her room.

   I barely caught her arm as she spun to leave the room.

   "Beautiful?  You have more than surpassed beautiful!" I told her, my
brain finally working.  "You look amazing.  You just caught me by surprise.
I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

   "You think I look good?  Really?" she asked, obviously still smarting
from my initial reaction.

   "Amazing," I said simply, silver-tongued devil that I am.

   "Every man in the restaurant will wish he was me tonight."

   On the drive to dinner, I kept finding myself glancing toward her legs
more and more.  Then wondering if she had on panties underneath, because
there certainly was no line when she turned around.

   "Holy shit," I thought.  "Get a grip on yourself.  She's 16 years old,
for God's sake.  She could be your daughter!"

   Once we got to restaurant, it became more difficult.  As we entered,
with her arm in mine and her little breasts pressed tight against my
shoulder, my earlier words were prophetic.

   Almost every man in the place stopped to stare and more than one got an
earful from his date or wife.

   As we sat down, I finally had to ask.

   "Where did you get those clothes.  It is not your usual look.  Not that
I mind," I said, as I tried to readjust my half-erection in my shorts.

   "Aunt Sue had some things that were too small for her.  I hope you like
them," she said.

   "Hey, what's not to like," I said, my lower half becoming increasingly
uncomfortable as she looked at me with her emerald eyes.  "Like I said,
tonight is your night."

   Susan had helped her with her makeup, and I must admit, Emily looked
absolutely gorgeous.

   But, luckily, as dinner progressed, it became easier to think of her as
Emily again, not as some hot little number I'd like to roll around with.

   Our conversation was exactly like it always was.  Easy, friendly.  And
we had a great time.  Laughing and joking like always.

   As we headed home, I could tell Emily was thinking about something.  I
worried that having Susan just sort of dump her off again was getting to
her.

   So, like a dummy, I asked.

   "What's up, Em?"

   She just blushed, then turned her face toward the window. 
Unfortunately, for me at least, I took this opportunity to check out her
legs again and things started to stir in my shorts.

   Finally, she spoke.  "You know, what I said on the phone is true."

   My confusion must have been evident, because she continued.

   "I am Sweet 16 and haven't been kissed."

   I was flustered now, searching for anyway to try to assuage this now, in
my eyes, at least, young woman's pain.  I am the first to admit that I know
very little about women and less about growing girls.

   "Uh, Em, you've led a pretty sheltered life.  I mean, it will happen," I
told her, trying to find the words.  "Someday you will meet the right
person, and your first kiss will be the most special thing in the world."

   "I know, that is why I want it to be you," she said as she turned her
eyes toward me for the first time in a while.

   I damn near crashed into a tree.

   "Emily, you can't serious," I told her.  "I am twice your age.  Not only
is it morally wrong, but it is illegal.  Jesus."

   The images of Emily's legs and ass suddenly were replaced by those of
fathers with shotguns and me dancing with men named Bubba in prison.

   "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?" she asked.

   Thoroughly shaken, I mumbled, "Hell, I told you a lot of things."

   "You told me that if didn't act like a child, you wouldn't treat me like
one.  I don't think I am being childish about this.  So don't act like I am
five years old."

   Great, I love it when the things I say get shoved down my throat.  But,
I guess she was right.

   "Do you honestly think I haven't thought about this a lot," she
continued.  "I have.  I don't know about morality.  I know you aren't
forcing me, so I don't know what your problem is with that.  And legally,
the age of consent in Ohio is 16.  I checked that, too.*

   "So if you don't want to just because you don't want to, just say it,"
she finished, tears rolling down her cheeks.

   I was silent the rest of the way home, mostly because I had nothing to
refute her arguments.

   Chapter 5 First contact (Mf, con, rom)

   Finally, as I parked the car, I spoke.

   "Sweetheart, I think we should have a talk," I told her.  "Come on
upstairs, and we will figure this out."

   For all my might, I couldn't help but watch her butt as she walked up
the stairs.  And my thoughts again returned to the question of panties.

   Thankfully, we soon arrived at my front door.

   She spoke first.

   "I'm sorry I blurted that out like that," she said.  "I really like you.
I get butterflies when we hug.  You have made everything here so special
for me.  I just wanted to end my birthday in the perfect way."

   "I'm sorry I reacted that way," I told her, my thoughts finally clear.
"This sure has been a day for surprises.  Emily, I can't tell you how much
I enjoy being around you.  You are very dear to me.  I want you to know
that."

   My words made her blush a little and brought a small smile to her face.
What I said next put an end to the smile.

   "That is why I can't even consider what you've asked.  I know that you
have enjoyed spending time here.  And I am glad I could be here to spend
time with you.  I wouldn't trade our time together for anything else in the
world.  And you certainly are a beautiful girl.  My heart just about stops
every time you smile at me."

   Then it hit me.  The real reason behind my reluctance to give this
wonderful girl a kiss: I wouldn't be able to stop myself.  I already was
falling in love with her.  Only the distance between us kept me from
falling head-over-heels for her.  For some reason, I thought it would best
to be honest with her.  I told you thinking wasn't one of my stronger
suits.

   "Em," I started, blushing.  "Here is the truth.  I adore you.  And I
know me.  I know that if I were to kiss you, my life would never be the
same.  You would go home, and I would miss you too much.  So I can't.  I am
sorry."

   She just stood there, looking at me like I was the biggest fool on the
earth.  I wasn't so sure she wasn't right.

   Suddenly, Susan came bursting into the apartment, mascara smeared by
tears, venom coming out with each word.

   "Fuckin' pricks," she started.  "All men are fuckin' pricks.  If I am
even nice to them, they think I should screw them.  I am so sick and tired
of assholes."

   Then she saw Emily.

   "Sorry, sweetie.  I just had another shitty date.  You'd think I would
be used to jerks.  When you get older, you will know what I mean."

   Emily just sighed.

   "You're wrong, you know," she told her.  "Some guys are just too nice
for their own damned good.  You should look for one like that."

   She turned and walked out the door, leaving me with Susan.

   "What was that about?" Susan asked.

   "I promise, I will tell you some time," I told her.  "Are you OK?"

   "Fuck no." Then the tears came again.

   I let Susan cry herself out on my shoulder.

   "Come on, I'll tuck you in," I told her when her tears had subsided.

   I led her across to her apartment, then put her to bed with a soft kiss
on the cheek.

   "It will be better in the morning," I told her, knowing full well it
probably wouldn't be, for either of us.

   As I passed Emily's room, I saw a light on, and softly knocked.

   When she answered, I opened the door and saw her lying on her bed still
dressed, tear-soaked tissue by her side.

   "I just tucked Susan in, do you want the same treatment?" I asked.  "I
am an equal-opportunity tucker."

   "Sure," she said, tears starting again.  "I thought you would never
speak to me again.  I thought I had ruined everything."

   Seeing her so worried, my heart broke.

   I wrapped my arms around her, holding her, rocking her.  Telling her
there was nothing that could change what I feel about her.

   Then my world collapsed.

   I lifted her head off my shoulder and gently pressed my lips to hers.  A
soft kiss, but one tinged with emotion.  With one hand rubbing her hair, my
other slipped down her back.

   Finally I pulled away, ashamed of myself.

   "You get ready for bed, then I will come back and tuck you in," I told
her, resolved to get my head straight before I came back.

   When she yelled to me to tell me she was ready, I put my thoughts back
in order and re-entered her room.

   She was standing by her bed, in just an old T-shirt I had given her
weeks before.  As I started to pull the covers over her, I couldn't help
myself.  Just like I knew I couldn't.

   I kissed her again.  When my tongue touched her lips, suddenly I had a
16-year-old ball of hormones wrapped around me tightly.

   Her legs wrapped around my back, her little butt resting on my erection.
It was more than I could stand.

   My hands tracked down her back and our tongues met.  When I touched her
ass, she moaned and held me tighter, her breasts pressed against my chest.

   Numb, I mumbled how sorry I was, then backed out of the room.

   I didn't care.  The whole world could go to hell.  Because I knew for a
fact that I was headed there eventually.

   *Author's note: I have no idea what the age of consent in Ohio is.  It
just fit well into the story here, so I made it up.  Don't go feeling up
little girls in Ohio because you think you can get away with it and then
tell the cops I said it was alright.  It isn't.  OK, got that out the way.

   Let me know what you think.  Especially if you don't like it and can
give specific reasons why.  Although it might take a while, I will reply to
each intelligent message.  I would appreciate any feedback you might have
to offer.  cantrell_jay@yahoo.com