It didn't go unnoticed by the faculty at Bradford Middle School that Brian Chester's E.P. class demographics had tilted heavily toward the female side. The school's Extended Period, or E.P. was an additional, two-hour classroom study hall for kids who wanted or needed to stay over for late parental pick-up after extra-curricular activities when school buses no longer ran. Some of the kids stayed late because their parents didn't want them home alone. At twenty-four and with college loans to whittle upon, Brian volunteered for E.P. to get extra pay.
He had been assigned the sixth grade E.P., one of three teachers covering for that grade in different classrooms. Since E.P. was only loosely administered, the students could pick which classroom they wanted as long as they stayed relatively quiet - subdued conversations were allowed.
Although not Hollywood handsome, Brian was reasonably good-looking and soon girls were rushing to fill the seats in his classroom. Boys snickered (although some were a bit jealous) and made a point of going to one of the other classrooms. In the teacher's lounge, Brian took the good-natured ribbing about his "fan club" with a grin and a shrug. He dated women casually and had been seen out in town with some of them, so no one could have expected the prurient attraction that his prolonged exposure to preteen girls nurtured. And unlike some of his frat buddies, none of his colleagues tossed out the time-dishonored nom-de-sex of "Chester the Molester" his way.
In college, he had discovered an interest in younger teen girls after a couple of them managed to sneak into a frat party. When he went looking for a teaching position, he figured he'd be safe from his vices in a middle or elementary school. But after a month of sixth grade students both in his regular mathematics classes and in E.P., he found himself wondering what these younger ones would be like after a few beers had disintegrated their inhibitions.
While it was exciting - both from a carnal nature and the burning presence of an illicit secret - Brian was also disturbed at the idea that one day he might slip - a stare in the wrong place for too long, and accidental touch that lingered, or, in one horrific daydream, walking into the gym locker room shower and standing rooted in place, unable to move as he gaped at the screaming 'tweens while they scurried for their towels.
Before E.P., he began a regular practice of solving complex math riddles to purge his mind of any nastiness that had arisen during the day. It helped, but the less restrained atmosphere of E.P., the girls were a little more flirtatious. Temptation drew out the two hours ever longer.
"Can you help me with this, Mr. Chester?"
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Changes last made on: Monday, July 31, 2017