The final bell marks the start of my date with Emily Jones.
The fastest way to get from Midtown to Riverdale would be to take the Metro-North from Grand Central Terminal.
Which is exactly why I take her on the 7 train toward Queens.
Actually taking her home right now is the last thing on my mind.
The subway car is ridiculously crowded, and we end up pressed tightly against each other.
I get hard the moment I feel her huge breasts pressing against my chest every time the train jolts.
The urge to push my hips forward and press my cock between her thighs is almost impossible to resist.
But no. I can't be that reckless barely two minutes into our date.
I'd risk making a terrible first impression — or even scaring her off.
My plan is to get off in Long Island City and stop by a bar for a drink.
When I suggest it, she agrees right away.
During the short ride from Midtown to our stop, I try to get her talking a little.
Partly to break the ice, but mostly to distract myself.
As if her breasts constantly brushing against me weren't already enough, I also have to deal with her thighs rubbing against mine every now and then.
Keeping my cock under control in a situation like this is really fucking hard...
Between one brush against me and another, she tells me about her passion for the classical world.
She knows Ancient Greek and Latin, and she's an avid reader of philosophers from that era.
Fuck, what a boring girl...
After getting off in Long Island City, I take her to a bar I usually go to when I want to have a drink in peace.
Today, though, it looks a lot less peaceful than usual.
We're literally surrounded by a bunch of shady-looking guys who spend their days drinking and causing trouble.
But I guess if I suggested leaving, I'd look like a coward, so that's not happening.
We barely have time to order — a beer for me and a soda for her — before the local trash starts mouthing off.
"See that smoking-hot chick over there? Wanna bet I can get her to suck me off right here in front of everyone?"
"And what exactly are you planning to do with that rat face of yours? You'd just scare her off. Leave it to me."
They're deliberately talking loudly enough for Emily to hear them.
And yet, she doesn't show the slightest sign of discomfort or embarrassment.
She just ignores them.
"So, Emily, how are you liking Westchester Crown so far? If anyone gives you trouble, don't hesitate to tell me."
"Thanks for looking out for me, Darko. Honestly, I don't really have anything to complain about so far. Sure, I wouldn't mind getting a little more space every now and then... but everyone's been incredibly nice to me."
"I'm sure. Still, be careful. You're not stupid — you know exactly what all those guys buzzing around you really want."
"Yeah... like asking me out for a drink using walking me home as an excuse, right?"
That catches me completely off guard.
There isn't the slightest hint of annoyance in her tone or in the smile on her face, and yet... I definitely wasn't expecting that.
After a brief silence, while I try to figure out what to say to save face, she suddenly bursts out laughing.
"What's wrong, Darko? Don't tell me that actually got to you. Come on, we're both fifteen. If you wanted to ask me out, you could've just said so, right?"
Shit, she's right...
Why the hell did I even start making up excuses?
It's obvious she's interested in me.
What a rookie mistake.
"Well, if you put it that way, would you like to—?"
"Hey, blondie. You know you're fucking hot?" some guy cuts in.
A middle-aged man is staggering toward our table.
Ugly, short, fat, and... fuck, he even smells like a sewer.
"Seriously, what's a bombshell like you doing with that kid? Wouldn't you rather have a real man's cock?"
Judging by the way he's talking and the smell of his breath, it's obvious he's completely wasted.
Unfortunately, it's still daytime and, more importantly, we're not alone.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have hesitated for a second to smash his disgusting fat face into the pavement.
Emily remains completely unfazed. She keeps smiling and talking to me as if nothing is happening.
I simply nod along, following her lead and pretending there's nothing wrong.
Hopefully, sooner or later, the fat bastard will get tired of being ignored and go back to his table.
But apparently, he's not the type to give up that easily.
"Are you deaf, you stuck-up little bitch? Or do I need to unclog your ears with my cock?! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
Then another nasty-looking bastard suddenly gets up from the same table as the fat guy and heads toward us.
A huge, muscular Black man who looks like a retired boxer.
He doesn't say a word, but the way he stares at us is threatening enough on its own.
And yet Emily stubbornly keeps ignoring them.
She takes a sip of her drink with trembling hands, probably as much from fear as from frustration.
"Are these two kids giving you trouble, Frank?" the Black guy asks.
"Don't worry, Jamal. This little slut was just about to ditch this brat and come with me!"
Then he reaches out to grab Emily by the shoulder.
But it takes a lot more than one drunk fat bastard to catch me off guard.
I lunge at him and land a vicious punch on his chin before he can even touch her.
The fat bastard crashes backward.
His jaw is shattered, along with several of his teeth, blood pouring from his mouth.
He can't even scream. He just clutches his ruined jaw with both hands.
What a wimp.
And I held back as much as I possibly could.
If I'd hit him with my full strength, his head would've been torn clean off and landed several blocks away.
The big Black guy doesn't just stand there and watch.
He draws his fist back, ready to throw a punch, but a voice stops him at the last second.
"Jamal, try it and I'll kick your ass straight back to jail!"
Fortunately — for him, obviously — the timely arrival of the police makes him think twice about throwing that punch.
He backs away from the table with his hands raised as two officers approach.
Instinctively, I grab Emily by the hand and start running.
As we make our escape, I keep glancing at her to make sure she's okay.
Her face is pale, and she's trembling uncontrollably.
Poor thing. She's clearly still in shock.
After several minutes of running, I finally stop to give Emily a chance to catch her breath.
The color is slowly returning to her face, and she looks much calmer now.
If those two assholes somehow ruin my chances of fucking her, I swear I'll go back there and kill them.
"How are you feeling, Emily? Better now?"
"Y-Yeah, much better. Thank you so much, Darko... if you hadn't been there... I don't even want to think about it... Anyway, what were you about to ask me before that guy interrupted you?"
I look up at the sky, glowing orange in the sunset.
"It's almost dinnertime... want to grab something to eat?"
Emily gives me a tired smile.
"I'd like that. But on one condition... can I pick the place?"
"Deal."