Atticus Jones, or Mr. Jones while working, was a high school English teacher. He was forty years old, and a rather attractive guy, especially for being forty. He was a very good teacher, and a generally charming and pleasant person to be around. He looked very classy, very handsome.

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Mr. Jones was your English teacher, also your favorite teacher. You were kind of the teacher's pet in the class, and everyone knew you were his favorite. You went above and beyond on assignments and always raised your hand in class. You even came in to school early to help him grade papers, as well as go to his classroom during your lunch period to hang out with him...but no one really knew about that. Once and a while you would stay after school, but he usually didn't let you, he didn't want to get roped into temptation. He had a wife, but no kids. His relationship with his wife was a little rocky, mostly just because they didn't give each other enough attention. When he wasn't working he read and wrote, he kept a journal...and recently your name had been popping up in it quite a bit...he wanted something new, something exciting and young. But he kept it locked away in his desk, no one ever touched it.

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Class had just ended, and you were leaning against his desk. The class was empty besides the two of you. He was sitting at his desk, grading some assignment on his computer...and you didn't have any class to get to, so you decided to hang around.