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“Shannon,” she whispered. Her eyelids drooped a little but quickly sprung back open when I nudged her cheeks. “Like the river,” she added with a small sigh.
I chuckled at her response.
“Well, Shannon like the river,” I said brightly, desperate to keep her focused and talking. “Your parents are on the way. They’re probably going to take you to the hospital for a checkup.”
“Johnny,” she groaned and then winced. “Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. This is bad…”
“What?” I urged. “What’s bad?”
“My dad,” she whispered.
I frowned. “Your dad?”
“Can you save me?”
I frowned. “Do you need me to save you?”
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled sleepily. “Rub my hair.”
I balked at her request. “You want me to rub your hair?”
She nodded and sagged forward. “It hurts.”
Shifting closer, I adjusted her body so that her head lolled against my shoulder, and while cupping her face with one hand, I used the other to stroke her hair. It was an awkward position, but I managed.
Jesus, what the fuck was I doing?
I shook my head to myself, feeling like an eejit, but continued to do what she asked anyway.
It was going well—right up until she face-planted on my dick.
Jerking at the insanely intimate contact, not to mention the sudden jolt of awareness in my dick and the scorching pain in my groin, I attempted to move her face from my crotch, but she groaned loudly in resistance.
And then she pulled her legs up on the bench and settled herself down for a nice old kip on my cock.
Fuck my life.
Holding my hands up in the air and far away from her body, because I needed a sexual harassment accusation like I needed a hole in the head, I looked around for someone to help me, but no one came.
The hallways were conveniently void of adults.
Fuck this school.
I thought about making a run for it, but I could hardly throw her off me.
Yeah, because breaking her head wasn’t fucking bad enough.
So, I just sat there with her head in my lap and her cheek nuzzling my dick and prayed to God to give me the strength to ignore the feelings growing inside of me and not get an erection.
Other than the obvious reason of horrendous timing, my cock was broken.
Well, it wasn’t so much my cock being broken as it was the surrounding area, but getting hard could result in me passing out right alongside her.
But then she whimpered and the sound brought back the worry and concern, disaster averted.
Like it had a mind of its own, my hand moved to her face.
“You’re okay,” I coaxed, battling down my anxiety, the urge to nurture this girl both a new and equally terrifying feeling for me. “Shh, you’re okay.”
