WOMEN 55
Being a young male substitute teacher, you have to be adept at deflecting the "attentions" of teenage girls. I was adept. To A, the only student who had the balls to actually grab my ass. To M, who was standing by me at the board in the waning moments of class. She dropped an eraser. In one giggly motion, she bent all the way over with legs apart, her posterior backing into my groin. Her aim was so uncanny, i will forever be half-sure that i felt the contours of her lips against my penis. It almost seemed like she was showing off, like the result of some kind of bet she'd made. The only way for our genitals to be closer would have involved her legs wrapped around me (and no student could ever be that audacious, right?). And to S, the transplanted sassy Brooklyn girl, at 18 just a junior, whose plunging necklines revealed nature's fullness, and whose presence rendered 9th and 10th grade boys literally incapable of speech. When i visited the school the following year to do some literary interp for a friend's class, she saw me in the crowded halls and screamed my name. She ran to me and jumped up, wrapping her arms and legs around me. I was happy to see her too.
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