Head Over Heels (2 page)

We reached my car, which wasn’t too far from the stadium entrance. “Are you okay to stand for a couple seconds?”

She nodded.

I set her down on the ground and she stood on her good leg. She tried lowering the other one but her ankle was still very sensitive and she couldn’t put her weight on it. Once she was sure she had her balance, I let go of her and grabbed my keys from my jacket pocket.

Hitting the beeper, the car light’s flashed and the door’s unlocked.

“Wow, is this your car?” She stared wide-eyed at the silver colored Jaguar I’d just activated with my remote. It was a $75,000 car, but when you work for a university for a number of years, you can afford such luxuries.

“Yep.
Have I impressed you yet?”

She nodded, forgetting about her hurt leg for a second—that was, until she tried putting her foot down on the ground again. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she shouted.

I helped her into the passenger seat, gingerly helping her lift her ankle and placing it tenderly on the floor. Then I shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

It was amazing. As much as I desired this barely legal girl, all I could think of right now was making sure she was all right. I couldn’t help myself
, but though sex was on my mind, it had taken a backseat to… well, nursing apparently.

“Where am I taking you?” I asked her.

She told me the name of her dorm, which was clear on the other side of campus—they always gave the freshman the crappiest locations, far away from everything—and I drove her.

It appeared I wasn’t the only one trying to leave the game early and traffic was already starting to build around the exits to the parking lots. Since it appeared it was going to be a while until we got back to her dorm, I decided to make some small talk.

“Where are you from, Nicole?”

“Call me Nikki, Professor Smithson,” she said. “All my friends do.”

“Okay, Nikki, but
then you have to call me Sean.”

She blushed, but didn’t respond. Apparently calling a professor by their first name was something of a taboo for her.

“Where are you from?” I repeated.

“California,” she responded. “A small town near San Fransisco that I’m sure you’ve never heard of.”

I nodded. “I’m originally from Oregon,” I told her. “Also from a town I’m sure you never heard of.”

She laughed a little, but winced as the pain in her ankle returned. I kept talking to keep her distracted.

“Why’d you come all the way out here for school then? Surely there had to be some schools closer to home.”

“Truthfully, I had to get away from home. So, I decided to get as far away as I could.”

“Home life wasn’t good then?”

“No, it was fine. It was just so… dull. Nothing ever happened by us. When I say we lived in a small town, I mean it. Everyone knew everyone and were perfectly happy to just stay put. I wasn’t. I needed to leave.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” I didn’t say any more, but the reason I didn’t live on the west coast anymore was for essentially the same reason. I was afraid that if I didn’t leave my small town there, I would get stuck there for the rest of my life. There was a whole big world to explore, and I wasn’t content to just stay in one small corner of it.

We were inching along across campus, but our conversation boomed. It was sad to say, but even though there was a huge age gap between us, we had a lot in common. Besides both growing up and eventually leaving a small town, she planned on being a psychology major, which is what I’d done in college, and she wanted to travel the world.

We talked about her classes, and about how long I’d been teaching. I asked what she liked to do for fun and she in turn asked me what things there were to do around the college.
Eventually, she began steering the conversation and it came to the inevitable topic. “So, why aren’t you married?” she asked me.

“Who say
s I’m not?” I asked in return.

“You don’t wear a ring. You’re at a football game by yourself on a Saturday night. And you have this ridiculously expensive car that a woman would never let you have if you were married.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure you haven’t taken any psych classes yet?”

“You answer my question first.”

Shaking my head, I had to laugh. The girl was growing bolder with me, I liked that. “I was once. We were divorced about fifteen years ago. I don’t know what happened, and I probably never will. I came home from teaching one day, and the house was empty. There were divorce papers for me to sign and an address to forward them to. I never saw her again.” I said it so matter-of-factly. The truth was, after so many years it didn’t even bother me anymore. Yes, I had loved her, and yes, it had taken me a while to get over it, but at this point in my life, I was very much over it.

Nikki put a sympathetic hand on my arm and rubbed it lightly. “Awww, you poor baby.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay.” I really liked her hand there, and her contact, even through my jacket, was once again firing those special neurons that were just dedicated to sex. Which is probably why I didn’t steer the conversation in a different direction. “So, what about you? No boyfriend or anything?”

She shook her head. “Never had one. My parents were very protective of me and my sister. And like I said, we came from a small town where everyone knew everyone, so trying to keep something a secret was impossible.”

“So, you’ve never even been on a date?” I’d had my suspicions, but I didn’t actually believe it was true.

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Awww, you poor baby.” I loved repeating her words, even though I couldn’t return the gesture and rub her consolingly.

“The boys back home were all simple-minded anyway. My friend Becky was, and probably still is, dating this guy, Chuck. And his biggest aspirations are to become the manager of the gas station on the interstate that runs near town.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re much better than that. And if that’s what all the boys were like where you’re from, you made the right decision.”

She smiled at me and put an arm on my shoulder again. “Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed red then and it was then I knew what she was thinking. It might have been the first time she’d ever had a thought like that in her life—and the best part was, it was about me. “You know, you’re really nice.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. So, I just continued to drive after that. We were only a minute or so from her dorm anyway.

“What floor are you on, Nikki?” I asked when we did pull up to her dorm.

“I’m on the first floor.”

“Lucky you,” I said. “I don’t think stairs would be the best thing for you right now.”

I parked the car near the entrance of the dorm and got out. I once again scooped the girl up in my arms. This time as I did, I made sure my hand was right on her panty-covered ass. I doubted anything was going to happen between us, but at least I’d be able to say I knew what it felt like to touch her.

She opened the door while I continued to cradle her and I carried her in. She then opened up her dorm room. There was no one else inside and the lights were off. Nikki hit the switch and it instantly illuminated the room. It was definitely a girls’ room. There were posters of Twilight on the walls as well as some pictures of some hunky guys with their shirts off. I’m sure the girls would know who they were, but I hadn’t a clue.

“Which bed is yours?” I asked her.

That one, she pointed to the one on the far side of the room. I carried her over and placed her on it.

“Where’s your roommate?” I asked her.

“Staying at her boyfriend’s,” she said immediately. “Thank god. When they’re here I never get any sleep.”
Her cheeks flushed red again as she thought about what must have been a rather obscene and erotic show her roommate and her boyfriend must have put on for her.

“They’re loud, huh?” I asked.

She nodded.

I looked around the room. There was a bra hanging over the chair in front of one of the computer’s, a light blue one and a bit lacy on the edges. I don’t know if it was Nikki’s or her roommates, but I wanted to believe it was Nikki’s. I could just picture her wearing such a thing—modeling it for me, letting me snap a few photos of her in it before we ended up making love like wild beasts.

“Do you have any ace bandages so I can wrap your ankle?”

“Yeah.” She pointed to a dresser in the corner near the closets. “I keep them in the top drawer. But…”

I waited to hear what came after the “but”, but she didn’t say anything. So, I asked, “But, what?”

“Nevermind.” She smiled and her face turned a beat red color, nearly matching her
hair.

I shrugged and went over to the dresser. When I opened the top drawer, I understood what her trepidation was. It was her underwear drawer.

The ace bandage was in plain sight, tucked nicely in a corner, but I pretended like I didn’t see it and began rummaging. She had a few pairs of, what I would call “conservative panties and bras”, but most of them were the sexy, lacy kind like the one hanging over the chair. Each one I looked at, I couldn’t help but picture the teen-goddess wearing. Again, I couldn’t help but wonder if she would model any of these for me.

There was also a small box, hidden amongst the panties and bras. I uncovered it for a second to see it was a box of condoms. So, the girl hadn’t had sex yet, but it appeared she was ready to experience it. All she needed was the proper motivation.

“Are they in there?” Nikki asked from the bed.

I smiled and made like I just found it. Then I pulled the ace bandage out and reluctantly shut the drawer again.  Then, acting like I hadn’t just been viewing her most intimate
apparel, I walked back over to her bed.

“I’m going to have to take off your sho
e and sock. Is that okay?”

She nodded and then lifted her leg. In doing so, she greeted me with a lovely view right up her skirt to the cheerleading panties beneath. They were still pulled tight and I could see the outline and indentation of her pussy beneath. There was also a little wet spot right in the crotch of the panties. Seeing this made my cock jump again. Thankfully I was sitting down and she didn’t notice.

I removed her shoe and tenderly rolled her long socks down her leg, being very gentle as I reached her ankle. Her leg was so smooth and sexy and I savored the fact that she was willingly allowing me to caress this beautiful skin.

When I uncovered her ankle, I knew she was going to be fine. I’d taken a couple of semesters pursuing a medical career, and so I was at least moderately versed in being able to spot broken limbs. Hers wasn’t broken. I doubted it was even sprained. It was a little swollen, but I was sure it was just a pulled muscle. I tickled the bottom of her foot, which made her laugh and recoil slightly.

“Don’t do that?”

“What? This?” I asked. Then I tickled her again.

This time did recoil, but this ended up hurting her ankle again and she winced with the pain. So, I stopped. But, I still had to wrap her ankle in the bandage, and I did so gently. Pulling it tight so she couldn’t move her ankle very much. If I was right, she’d be fine by morning.

I told her as much and she simply said, “Thank you.” Then she lay her head back on her pillow and covered her eyes with her arm. She lifted her other leg, being careful to keep her bad leg flat on the bed. Once again, I was greeted by the sight of her cheerleading panties. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the wet spot I’d noticed before had gotten a little bigger.

This girl was getting aroused at my touch. I couldn’t believe it. We hadn’t even done anything remotely sexual—yet.

Reaching over, I grabbed her other shoe and removed it, followed by her sock. I only lightly tickled this foot before placing it back on the bed. Then I grabbed her sore ankle and lifted it slightly to put it in my lap.
I gently began caressing the tender flesh through the bandage I’d expertly put on.

“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing up at me from underneath her arm.

“I’m going to massage your ankle. It should make it feel better.”

She didn’t argue any further as my fingers began to press more firmly against the ankle. I lightly massaged her whole foot, making tight circles around her heal and ankle and gently working my way out to her entire wrapped foot.

I glanced back under her skirt. I was right. My caresses were definitely having an effect on her. The wet spot was slowly expanding and I could see a thin shiny sheen on the panties now as more of her juices spilled into them.

I continued to massage her foot and ankle for another minute before moving up her leg. I gently caressed the skin on her calf, rubbing ever so slowly along her young, smooth skin. I went up almost to her knee and then pulled back. She made no protest whatsoever. She didn’t move her head at all and kept it firmly underneath her arm, but her thighs parted ever so slightly.

Deciding to press my luck, I reached up again—massaging Nikki’s soft, delicate skin all the way up to her knee and then rubbing along the bony joint, reaching underneath to touch the tender flesh beneath. I stayed there for a while, and again she didn’t protest.  And again, her legs parted ever so slightly, as if she was giving me permission to continue my trek upward.