Emily's Lessons - Cover

Emily's Lessons

Copyright© 2002 by Jay Cantrell

Part 1

Erotica Sex Story: Part 1 - A man finds himself torn between falling in love with his neighbor's niece or staying true to his beliefs.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Slow  

Author's note

I began this story almost seven years and it sat unfinished for almost six years. I posted the first few chapters in 2001, and I received a lot of positive feedback. I'd always meant to finish it and post it in its entirety, but as is the case sometimes, life intervened.

During the interval from start to finish, my life took many twists and turns, not least of all was a marriage to and a divorce from a wonderful woman — a woman who just happens to have a teenaged daughter. My interaction with my step-daughter provided a whole new insight to the character of Emily and my experience with my divorce gave me a better feeling about Joe and his life before Emily.

Before I go much farther, I want to be completely clear that the relationship between Joe and Emily in no way reflects my feelings toward my daughter — either in the past or now. I began writing this before I met my future ex-wife or my step-daughter and I'm not Joe, nor would I want to be.

What my daughter, and to a lesser extent her friends, did was provide valuable insight into the mind of a teenaged girl. Emily started out as a one-dimensional, idealized composite of all the Lolita-type characters found in erotic fiction. I got to see first-hand all the different personalities a teenager has. I got to see how things I've never considered to be important can be the most important thing in the world to a growing girl. It was humbling to learn how little I knew.

Even during my marriage, I didn't forget about this story (or the other half-finished work I have posted here which is next on my to-do list). But I realized Emily wasn't a realistic representation of any young girl I met during my marriage. So I set back to work and tried to present something enjoyable but something the reader wouldn't have to stretch the imagination too far to believe.

I also found I'm a far different person and a far different writer than I was seven years ago. I'm not sure I'm better at either, but I'm certainly different. Even those who didn't read the first chapters before can probably find where I stopped. I chose not to rewrite the first few chapters. I did re-edit them and refined some of the rougher qualities of the writing.

On a final note (and this does give away part of the plot, so be forewarned), I received some pieces of e-mail when I first posted this suggesting I was focusing too much on Joe's conflict about having a relationship with a young girl. I reflected on this and I thought about changing it. But I decided, in the interest of reality (or as close to reality as we can come in fiction) to leave it as it is. I think Joe's internal conflict is a true representation of what any man would think if he were in Joe's situation — at least any man, in my humble opinion and as the father of a teenaged daughter, who doesn't need to spend some serious time on a therapist's couch.

So, although there are elements of sex involved, and I've tried to portray them as erotically as possible, if you're looking for a stroke story, this probably isn't for you.

But, if you've made it to end of this note, I hope you'll continue. I've enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it.


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 32, 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 managed 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 auburn-haired 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.

"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 2: 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.

Occasionally, 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 occasions 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."

As always, I said yes.


Chapter 3: 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 she 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 pirouette, 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 are the rest of your clothes!" I exclaimed. Immediately I felt like a fool. Her green eyes began to glisten with moisture, and 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 and 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'm 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."(1)

"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 4: First Contact

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'll 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, and 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, and 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, and 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.

(1) 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.


Chapter 5: Reflections

By the time I got myself back to my apartment, my mind was reeling. I couldn't believe what I had just done.

I had taken advantage of a 16-year-old girl. Just because I could!

As I lay on my couch, my jumbled thoughts haunted me. Pictures of Emily raced through my head. I could still feel her mouth on mine. I could still smell her perfume, her shampoo.

What was happening to me?

I truly thought I had been in love with Susan. Unrequited, yes, but love nonetheless.

Now I knew I wasn't. But was I in love with Emily? How could I be? Look what I had just done.

When I finally slept, things were no better. I dreamed I was with Emily, kissing, touching and making love to her. It was so real. I could hear the headboard of her bed hitting the wall.

Then another hand touched me, an unseen hand, scaring me so much, I awoke.

What I saw scared me more: Susan standing in front of me.

"How in the hell did you get in here," I practically screamed at her. "Why are you in my apartment?"

My reaction frightened her, I could tell.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "It's almost noon. I was worried something had happened. You never sleep this late. I knocked and knocked, but you didn't answer. So I got your spare key and came to check."

After my initial shock wore off, I felt bad, but resolved to put the deadbolt on in the future.

"I'm sorry, Susan. You just scared the hell out me," I told her. Then I noticed how she was dressed. Or rather, almost dressed.

She had on a bathing suit that covered very little, and I was very glad I was lying on my stomach to hide the stirrings that hadn't gone away from dreams. My mind flashed back to Emily. How could I have betrayed her like that? Sure, she had asked me to kiss her. But I am the adult, I am supposed to protect her from people like, well, me.

"So are you coming or not?" Susan broke me from my thoughts as I realized she was still talking to me.

"What? Where?" I asked.

"Are you OK? You look terrible. Are you feeling OK?" She said.

I really wasn't sure.

"Yeah, fine," I told her. "I'm just not a morning person. What were you saying?"

"Well, sleepyhead, Emily and I are at the pool taking in this glorious day, we wondered if you wanted to come down and relax a little?"

I did what any red-blooded male would do when faced with the prospect of spending the afternoon sunning himself with two beautiful, under-dressed women.

I lied.

"Sorry, Susan. I have a lot to catch up on," I said. "Maybe some other time."

She looked at me funny. I wondered if she could read my thoughts.

"Oh, pooh," she started. "It's 90 degrees out there today, and it is supposed to rain all day tomorrow. Catch up then."

"I can't," I lied again, suddenly getting a little irritated with Susan. "I have gotten pretty far behind over the past month, and I didn't get to do any work yesterday."

Susan's face started to redden.

"I guess I have pretty much sent Emily to live with you, haven't I? But you two get along so well. Why didn't you tell me?" she wondered.

A day ago, I would have had an answer for her. Now I didn't.

"I really didn't look at it that way. There wasn't a problem with Emily being here. She keeps herself occupied and sometimes is pretty helpful in catching little mistakes I miss when I am working," I replied. "But, I don't know why you don't spend more time with her. She's a pretty great girl. A lot of fun."

"She says the same thing about you," she told me. "I want you to know that you put together a lot better birthday party for her than I could have. She hasn't stopped smiling all day."

I was relieved to hear that what I had done hadn't been too traumatic for her. Now if I could get over the trauma of it, too.

I realized Susan was talking still and I had no idea what she was saying.

"Huh?"

"I said, 'She's the one who kept pestering me to come and see if you were coming down, '" Susan repeated.

"Give her my apologies, but I have to catch up on some stuff," I said, and Susan finally got up to leave.

"OK, your loss," she grinned back, catching me watching her butt shimmy to the door.

Embarrassed at being caught, I blushed. "Yeah, I guess it is. Have fun."

I hoped that for the next few days, I could avoid them both and let me come to grips with what I had done to Emily.

I should have known better.


Chapter 6: The Confrontation

After Susan left, I wandered to the shower to try to wash away some of the guilt I felt. It was still there as I dressed in a pair of shorts, combed my hair and brushed my teeth.

The fact that the shower didn't ease my mind didn't surprise me much.

The fact that Susan was sitting on my bed when I came out of the bathroom sure did.

"Holy shit! What is it with you, just walking into people's houses?" I asked, more than a little miffed at the situation. "You think you can just wander in here any damned time you feel like it?"

"I talked to Emily, she told me about last night," she said simply. "When I told her you weren't coming down, she started to cry. She's been so happy all day, then out of the blue, she's bawling."

I wished I could crawl into a hole.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," I started, the visions of shotgun-toting fathers and more-than-friendly cellmates back again. "I, uh..." I couldn't finish before I started to get overwhelmed.

"I think it is just about the sweetest thing I ever heard," Susan exclaimed.

Now I knew things were not right.

"Just what did she say?" I had to ask.

"I told her truth," a voice from behind me said.

I spun around to see Emily standing in the doorway to my bedroom. She was wearing a green one-piece suit that almost matched her eyes, except her eyes were red from crying.

"I told her that after you tucked her in last night, you found me crying because. You talked to me, asked me why I was upset. And I told you why: I had never had a real kiss. You gave me a kiss to make me feel better," Emily continued, now starting to smile.

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