Freedom From a Small Town Ch. 01

This is the beginning of a saga. You might notice that the sex is slow in happening but as the saying goes, all journeys start with a single step. Sorry to disappoint any of you that might have wanted something quick and brutal. It kind of reflects some of the happenings in my life but there are certainly some liberties taken. I promise that if you'll stick around a bit, you see a little of everything here. Enjoy the read, vote often, and watch for the next segment coming soon.

Where to begin. Isn't that always the hard part? I could start at the beginning but there is too much boring stuff to sort through and I would loose everyone quickly. But then again if I don't, no one would ever understand. Maybe a quick summary would be okay.

I was born Michael James Jones in a small hick town to very backwoods parents. We weren't white trash or anything like that, it's just that both of them worked at a small plastic plant and attended church every Wednesday and Sunday. That was all they ever did. Sex was never discussed in any fashion.

School was typical. We attended all the grades in the same building and there were maybe two hundred students total at any given time. The staff attended the same church my parents did, as that was the only one in town. Most of their husbands and wives worked at the same plastic plant as my parents did too. The only sex education came in the form of health class, locker room mythology and Miss Simmons.

Miss Simmons was the only single teacher and also the only outsider to our little town. She was hired in as a teacher when the previous English teacher died of old age. Miss Simmons was the epitome of a high school student's wet dream. We would all brag about what we would do to her if we ever had the chance. Yeah, I played along because that's what was expected but deep down inside I hated it. See I was in love with Miss Simmons. I know, I know, everyone has a crush on a teacher at one time or another, but this was different. I loved her because there was something so different about her and she represented everything that I hated about Hicksville. There were so many nights that I would lay in bed dreaming of Miss Simmons. So many nights that my body would ache for her and I would secretly slide my hands into my jockeys and try to relieve all that teenage frustration. Then thoughts of church would slip in somehow and I would roll over and try to clean my mind of all the pictures it had of Miss Simmons.

See, in my little Hicksville town of hell, masturbation was sinful and required repentance at the first thought of touching myself. My cock would swell with passion and my mind would fill with anguished thought of Purgatory. Not so much the simple life after all huh?

It was the final two weeks of football season and our school was in the playoffs again. It wasn't that we were actually a great team; it was that we were one of the only small schools in our division. Sure, there were the college scouts and occasionally one of the jocks would receive a scholarship to some far off university. Thing is that we would never hear from the athlete again. There would be the occasional headline in the 10 page newspaper about some game across the country and how Tim Smith "Local Hero" would be on the starting lineup, but none of the guys would ever come back. Wait, I'm getting off track here. Back to the winning season.

I was playing defensive tackle and wasn't half bad. I wouldn't be one of the ones that anyone would come to scout out, but my six foot, 195 pound body was more than effective and I liked to play. I liked to play a lot.

We had suited up for Tuesday practice when tragedy struck. I was sprinting through the locker room to get out on the field when a door came out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass. I guess that the coach was coming out of his office to see what the commotion was and just as I was running past, he opened his door. I was padded up and the actual impact was hardly anything to talk about. But there was also a bench next to his door and when I went down, I twisted sideways and landed on the bench.

Some of the guys swore they heard a crack, but it was more like an explosion in my back from all the fireworks going off in my head. I saw a white flash that matched the unbelievable pain and that was that. Everything was lights out.

When I came too, half the team was leaning over the entire coaching staff. The coaches were trying to keep them all back and in the distance I could hear the sirens. Shit! This must be bad if they called the ambulance. The head coach, Mr. Johnson, had his face all screwed up funny and was telling me to take it easy. I tried to set up and nothing was happening. There were a lot of rather large needles that raced up and down my legs and back. They turned into knives real quick. Before I could settle back down, there was another bright flash and then nothing.

One smell that you might never forget is the sterile scent of a hospital room as you swim your way back to consciousness. It's the first thing that you become aware of and it takes days to wash itself from your mouth. The next thing that I was able to grasp was that my mother, father and the coach were there with me. They were whispering and you know that's got to be bad. I asked them what was wrong and Coach was the first one to walk over to the bed. He told me that the doctors said it was a severely pinched nerve and that things would be alright soon enough. He kinda let it hang there in the air for a moment and I knew that the season was over for me. We have a very grounded sense of reality in Hicksville. "There's no reason that the air needs to be polluted with the smell of human bullshit." My grandfather used to say. Still holds true. Especially in Hicksville.

Now I know that I promised not to drag this on and there hasn't been a single sex scene, but stick with me for a moment longer. If you didn't know all this then you wouldn't understand the directions thing went after I left the hospital. There's only a few more boring tales and then I promise it will get better.

Remember what I said about the human bullshit stinking up the air? Well the doctors released me from the hospital Friday morning and I wasn't even allowed to attend the next to last regular season game. If we won this game and the next, we could be looking at three additional weeks to play. Coach had one rule that he pounded into us year after year; miss one regular season game and you don't play in the playoff games. I didn't think that this would really apply to me, I was injured and all. When I asked him if I was going to be allowed to play, he simply stated that my injury didn't happen on the field. Talk about the air starting to stink. When I asked him about not getting to go to the game that night, he simply told me that it was doctors orders that I not get bounced around or it might aggravate the nerve. The way that he was ProNouciating the words, the nerve in my back wasn't the only one in danger of agitation. In short, I was off the team and merely a mortal again.

Yeah, the team one and there was lots of celebrating, of which I was not invited to. Monday came and instead of my sacks being touted around the school halls, it was some other jerk that was the hero of the day. I spent all day slinking from class to class wallowing in waves of self-pity. Until Miss Simpson's class.

Try as I might, I could not stop my outright love of this woman from squashing the hate and anger that had been threatening to burst all day. There was simply something about the way that she moved, the way that she smelled. Hell even the plain sweater and long skirt was enough to pull me out of the quagmire for a while. But only for a while. Ted Stout took care of that. He was the instant hero that I mentioned before. He made some wise-assed remark about gimpy-backed wannabes and there was no way to miss the fact that he was talking about me. I spent the last of the class hidden under my ball-cap and didn't utter another sound. All I could think of was getting my back in shape and then tackling Stout's ass too soon.

The bell went off with it's usual clang and not too soon. I was more than ready to limp all the way home without the luxury of the bus ride just to get away from all the assholes.

"Mr. Jones?" Miss Simpson was calling me. "I'd like to talk to you for a moment or two if you don't mind."

I sighed that defeated breath of sudden gloom, trying to figure out what I'd done now. Slumping back into my chair as slow as I could to prevent the inevitable pain, I could hear the snickers of the before mentioned assholes. The class emptied and I waited. Miss Simpson was busy clearing her desk.

"Mikey, I know that this mess has you all twisted up inside, but why are you letting it ruin your day?" Wow, she called me Mikey. Being that she was Miss Simpson, she could call me limpdick and I wouldn't care. But she called me Mikey and that meant that there wasn't anything wrong.

"I don't know Miss Simpson." I thought for a moment or too and tried to avoid looking at her. I was always honest with her, but anytime that I looked at her I would get tongue-tied. "It's just that this was my last year and even though I know that I won't go to college or anything because of it, I love the game. I love to play and I know that I'm good." Christ, I was starting to ramble.

"What do you mean, "not going to college". Why in the hell would you say that?" She cusses? I wondered to myself. "You are the brightest student that I have in the senior class and I thought that you were going to try and do something with the knowledge that you seem to possess." I had to look at her then.

"I mean, look at yourself for a moment. You're 18. You have a great physique." That turned my face red. "You've scored dammed well on the SAT's and ACT's. Any college would love to get their hands on you." She walked over to where I was setting and settled into a chair next to me. That was cool and all, but when she put her hand on my arm the only thought was that I could not get hard. I started repeating it over and over in my head. Don't get hard, don't get hard, don't get hard.

"Mikey? Mikey?" Oh shit. She was talking to me and I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. "Mikey, I asked you if you were still riding the bus?" All I could do was nod. "Is it your back? You seem flushed. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm okay Miss Simpson, really. I was just thinking about the college thing" Was she going to buy it? She nodded and I sighed a mental breath of relief.

"Well listen, I want to talk to you about this. Can I give you a ride and we discuss this on the way to your folks?"

I nodded again, almost afraid to do anything else. Why was I thinking about her this way now? She was trying to help and all I could do was pray that the ache in my jeans would go away before I had to stand up. It didn't. She stood up first and when she offered a hand to help, the contact only cemented the growing hardness. Fuck Fuck Fuck.

If she noticed, she didn't say a word thankfully. She walked over to her desk and collected her bag and then returned to escort me out.

The walk to her car mainly concerned my comfort. We walked real slow which was fine and I was able angle the lump in my pants away from her. Thankfully it was gone before we got outside. The parking lot was already starting to empty and we got into her little foreign looking car. It only had two seats and that put me right back into the danger zone. This time I was surrounded by the smell of her. Damn, did she ever smell good too. Of course this could only lead to one thing and I slipped my books onto my lap before she could see that telltale tent.

"Buckle-up Mikey." She was latching hers as I tried to twist around. There were the knives again and I must have let out a small moan or something. "Oh fuck Mikey, I'm so sorry. I should have realized…" She quickly unbuckled and leaned over to help me. I was so torn up on whether or not to pass out or spend the rest of my life smelling her auburn hair. Flowers and something musky. Damned if I didn't feel dizzy all the sudden. It was almost like sitting there but not being there and when she moved my booked from my lap, she had to have seen the bulge. When she dragged the seatbelt over and I felt her hand brush against it, she had to have felt it. But to this day I swear I was not sitting in that car just then. I was there of course, but I wasn't.

"Well, let's get you to the house and then we'll take care of that." What? Oh yeah, my back. Surely she was talking about my back.

I tried to listen as she drove the few minutes from one end of town to the other. I really did. But I was still floating off somewhere. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Hello. Earth to Mikey. Are we still here?" I heard the light tinkling of laughter.

When I was able to focus and I realized that we were pulled up into the drive of her house. "Can you get out of the car?" I looked over at her and it was like seeing someone all brand new. Her face was lit up and she was more beautiful than I could ever remember.

"We're at your house." I know that I must have looked stupid because it sure did sound stupid.

"You really are out of it aren't you?" she laughed. "Mikey I told you six blocks ago that I needed to stop by my place to pick up some mail to send out. It's on the way to your house and you even told me that it was okay." I could vaguely remember something about mail but felt my face turn several shades of red.

"Miss Simpson, I have to tell you something."

"Please Mike, call me Denise and if it's about the crush that you've had on me for two years, I know." She leaned a bit closer to me and whispered in my ear "If it's about the hard-on that you have in your pants, I swear I will never tell a soul." Oh shit fuck piss. She knew.

"Mike please, I've seen the way that you've looked at me and in case you aren't aware, the desks do nothing that hide any of the boy's hard-ons. At all. I see them all day long and while it's wrong of me to think anything, I do get flattered as much as any other woman would." All I know is that at that moment all I wanted to do was sink down through the seat, down past the floorboard and ooze my way home somehow.

"Let's get inside and I'll pour some ice tea for the two of us and we'll talk about college. Nothing more than that I promise. Just promise me one thing…" She left that in the air till I looked at her. "We are both adults and all I want you to know is that you can trust me completely."

She climbed out of the car and came over to my side. I was starting to think again and when she opened my door, I climbed out on my own. She started to help me and I took the opportunity to try and hug her. She was gentle but pushed me away. "Not here Mike, I'm a teacher and you're a student. Don't ever forget that." She offered a shoulder and supported me as we started into the house. "But when we get inside, I'm Denise and you're Mike." Damn this erection anyways.

We ended up talking about school believe it or not. The tea was as good as my mother ever made except that Denise put a couple of mint leaves in it. It was relaxing in a way because we sat across the coffee table from each other and it was something that I found myself more and more interested in. There could actually be life outside of Hicksville. The room slowly started growing dark and I knew that it was late.

"Mike, should you call your Mom and Dad so they don't worry?" She got up from the couch that she was sorta lying on and went through the room lighting candles. "I don't want you in trouble with them." She pointed to the phone and I got up to make the call.

I kept it short and simple. It wasn't like I had a curfew, but Denise was right, they would worry if they didn't hear from me. My injured back and all. While I was explaining that I was talking to a teacher about my grades and future, Denise came up behind me and nudged me gently. I turned to her and she mouthed out "hurry". I told them that I might go and hang out a little and that not to wait up. Yes everything was fine and that my back was fine too. It was a lot of gesturing on their end, but all part of being a parent in this place.

When I finally hung up, I looked over at Denise and she patted the cushion next to her on the couch. "There's something that we need to talk about Mike." After sitting down, she leaned back a little. "The reason that I keep bringing the subject of college is that I want to make you an offer" she chuckled a little, "I want to make you an offer you can't refuse."

"This is my last year here. I'm quitting at the end of the school year and moving to Richmond." I know that my jaw was starting to slowly fall. "I received an offer from a University there and I want to take it. Of course that means that I have to move and leave all this behind," another chuckle, "but there is more for me in Richmond. There could be more for you too." I swear I heard my teeth rattle when my jaw finally hit the floor.

Denise leaned close to me and using two fingers she closed my mouth. Remember that dizzy feeling? It slammed back into me with a vengeance.

There are two things that I need to let you all know at this point. One is that the last kiss I ever had was in the 7th grade from a girl that I can't even remember her name. It's not because I'm ugly or anything, but that I just never had another chance is all. Secondly, and it should be a no-brainer, is that I was still a virgin. Maybe not to my hand, but certainly towards any other living being. What was happening now was totally new ground. Denise leaned a bit closer.

"I know you're a smart man Mike, tell me what you're thinking right now, right here." I could feel her sweet breath on my mouth.

"I think that this is the point that I'm supposed to kiss you or something." We were so close at this point that I could feel the heat from her mixing with my own.

"You get an A."

How many people remember that first grown-up kiss? You know who it was. You know where it happened. You remember the taste, the feel and the excitement. The thing is you remember every last detail and it becomes a living thing. It's a memory that you relive and it never looses a bit of the magic.

It was several moments before we pulled apart. Now mind you, there was no tongue or anything, but it was totally the sensual thing that I will ever experience. Well, up to that point.

"Now, Mr. Jones, let's stay on the subject. Oh and by the way, you get an A for effort as well." She settled back a little, but snaked her feet into my lap. Without thinking, I dropped my hands to them and started rubbing them. "I want you to go with me. This is a one-time offer and I need an answer before the end of the evening. So here's my offer."

I was trying to think and rub her feet. That kiss did something to me that seemed to ease all the nervousness. "I'm listening."

"I want you to go with me and live with me. You will pay your own way, but I think that I can help you secure either a student loan to help with your school expenses, or we can apply now for a scholarship." She eased down into the couch a little more and I swear she was trying to feel the newly reborn erection I was sporting at the time.

"If we can apply now, everything will be ready by the time you graduate. You can move with me and I will take care of all the costs of living. You will have to pay for everything past that." Her feet were starting to actually rub against my cock at this point. It was an incredible tease and I was beyond enjoying it.

"Why are you doing all this Denise?" I pulled her feet till the pressure was enough to push my cock tight against my pants. "Why go to all the trouble of this when you could have anyone else around you other than me?"