Chapter 12

The next week was b-o-r-i-n-g. A day of schoolwork, then half a day of schoolwork followed by a trip to hospital for an EEG, which turned out to be perfectly normal. Then a day of schoolwork. Then another half day of schoolwork followed by another trip to hospital for another normal EEG.

All the time that was going on, I resolutely refused to masturbate. By the end of the week, I knew what the expression ‘blue balls’ meant. I started getting erotic dreams at night. In them I’d develop a headache as I progressed towards completion but I always woke before I finished.

I decided I’d have to drain my balls somehow, only I couldn’t masturbate while visualising any of the girls at school because that could be asking for trouble. I chose the actress Emma Watson as I remembered her from the middle Harry Potter films, made when she was about my age. She was no longer a child but not quite a mature woman. If I ended up in bed with her it would certainly have a hell of a story to tell!

I started masturbating to the image I had of her in my mind. My dick readily got hard. As my arousal grew, I felt the familiar pain in the back of my head start up. But no matter how much I masturbated, I couldn’t achieve completion and the pain was never enough to make me pass out. In the end I had to give up masturbating because my dick was starting to get sore.

I went to bed expecting another erotic dream.

Someone was gently shaking me. “Wake up! It’s Jon, isn’t it? Wake up!”

My mind struggled to distinguish reality from the erotic dream I’d been having. I’d dreamt that I was having sex with Samantha Allardyce and the familiar headache had come on. I’d even passed out. How can you pass out in a dream!

Another gentle shake. I cracked open an eye and found myself looking into the concerned face of the subject of my dream.

Sam Allardyce was something of an oddball. Behind her back, the other kids called her ‘Hippy Chick’. She allegedly lived in a commune and on dress-down Fridays, the last Friday of each month, Sam would come to school in long, flowing floral-print kaftans. Even at the age of fourteen, Sam had wide, child-bearing hips and everything about her screamed fecundity. In a poll of which girl in my class was most likely to pop out ten kids, Sam would almost certainly have been the unanimous winner.

Although somewhat aloof, Sam was a pleasant girl, easy-going and nice to everyone. But sexually I’d never given her a conscious thought.

“Jon, what are you doing in my bed?” asked Sam, now that she could see I was awake.

“I don’t know. I seem to have developed a habit of sleepwalking but I don’t know where you live so I can’t possibly imagine how I got here.”

“It’s for real, isn’t it. You genuinely didn’t know you were here.”

“No. Can I call my parents to come and get me?”

Sam adeptly slipped her hand inside my pyjamas and fished out my dick. She jacked it gently and it duly responded. “That’s a nice one,” said Sam. Then she grabbed my hand, slid it under her floral flannel nightdress and pressed it firmly against her cotton-pantied crotch, rubbing herself with it. “I think you’re cute,” said Sam. “While you’re here, would you like to...? I’ve got some condoms in my dresser.”

I took a deep breath. “Sam, I’m very flattered. But I’m a virgin, I don’t know what to do. And it doesn’t feel right for me to lose my virginity in these circumstances, an uninvited visitor to your bed.” Not to mention my dick was still a little sensitive from my Emma Watson failure.

“Okay, I understand,” said Sam. “But I think I deserve a little something for your being in my bed. Is it okay if we kiss?”

“Sure.” I wasn’t sure, but it seemed a small price to pay.

Sam placed her lips against mine and we kissed, chastely at first then Sam opened her lips invitingly. Since she seemed to know what she was doing, I reciprocated. I quickly found her tongue in my mouth and discovered the pleasures of tongue jousting. Sam seemed to lose concentration on what her hand was doing so I continued to rub her panty-clad crotch of my own volition.