A female student I didn’t recognize, surely a grade or two younger than me, scurried out into the main hall, arms full of books and a ironic Strawberry Shortcake side pouch swinging from one shoulder. She turned the corner so quickly I didn’t have a chance to even see her face, or she mine, or anything else of mine for that matter. Her straight brown hair had actually flown into the air from her turn’s centrifugal **** alone. She was in evidently quite a hurry, no doubt late for homeroom, not wanting to be marked absent. She speed-walked down the hall, until she reached the last door on the end, pulling it open and quietly slipping into the room.
I think she saw me as she practically tiptoed across her homeroom’s threshold. Through the open door’s window, I saw her look to her right, where I and Tiffany stood, and then I could swear she went bug eyed for a second, her heavy eyeliner moving apart suddenly, leaving the iris stranded in a sea of white. Whether or not she saw me, she quickly glanced away and disappeared into the classroom, closing the heavy wooden door behind her silently.
I realized I had been holding my breath since this girl appeared in the hall, afraid she might scream or laugh or be angry, and I also realized that I had stopped walking. And then, after exhaling, in the greatest revelation of all, I realized that I had started slowly stroking my penis, left hand wrapped around it, and it felt good. The weird lingering pain began to fade away, and though embarrassed, I found my self momentarily unable to stop. Perhaps it was merely the momentary shock of the situation rather then the magnitude of the relief it brought me, but either way I couldn’t have stopped stroking just then even had I been offered a million dollars.
“What are you doing?” Tiffany asked. It was unclear if she was referring to my lack of momentum or my hand’s acquirement of some. Her voice brought me back to my sense and I quickly released my member, standing tall and erect past the waistline of my jeans. I stashed my hands behind my back in a futile attempt to hide what I had been doing.
”Um… I was just… I was surprised… and it made it feel better… so…” Nothing coherent came out of my mouth.
“Did it start to hurt again, John? Is that why you’re rubbing it?” she asked me, eyes on my erection. She crouched down in front of me, and tentatively stuck out a single finger towards it, pursing her lips in concentration. “Maybe I should…” she peered up at my eyes, blushing, as was I. “Maybe I could… well…”
Her fingertip accidentally brushed against my penis’ tip, and she pulled it away surprised, letting out a little gasp, before allowing her fingertip to settle on it’s head again. She delicately stroked along it’s topside with a single finger, causing me a bit of comfort. I lightly sighed in relief, and she looked up at me again, biting her lip in indecision.
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