How To Be a Good Mentor

"You should see it from my end," I grinned back, but I was taking it easy; we had all night, after all.

* * *

I was comatose when the early sun streamed weakly in, my wrecked body lying crusty and vague in a sticky puddle that smelled of starch. Parts of me were glued to the mattress as my eyes slowly opened to the sight of Shannon, grinning at me, bent over with her hands on her knees as she kissed me on the cheek. "Hey, Dave!" she chirped; she seemed fresh as a daisy. "I'm off to go work out for an hour or so. In case you're wondering when you wake up, I haven't fled to complain to the principal about you."

"Shit." My mouth tasted like Shannon, which was wasn't ideal first thing in the morning. "What the fuck time is it?"

"It's almost six. I'm late," she went on apologetically. "Make yourself at home. Hey, when I get back, I'm going to need a shower..." She smiled evilly, the last thing I saw as I rolled over onto the cleaner side of the bed and descended back into blissful unconsciousness.

I was still there sometime later; only the sun had changed, high now and blazing brightly. The slam of a dresser drawer somewhere jarred me awake. "Wha?"

"Morning, sunshine!" Shannon sang. I squinted and saw sweat, and tight lycra workout clothes clinging to her body, her whole being glowing with energy and exercise. She pranced around the room humming, as happy and content as I'd ever seen anyone. "Time to get up, buddy. This place smells like a strip club, and you and I are two big reasons why. Want to come take a shower with me?" She reached down and whipped the sheets off me, leaving me naked and sluggish in the bright sunshine. "Wow! You look even skinnier with the lights on," she giggled.

"Don't mock me." I scratched at my ass. "It's too early."

"Bullshit. It's after eight already." She shook her head at me. "Pathetic. Look! Your dick is, like superglued to your pubes." She grabbed me, and without warning she ripped my penis free of the dried nastiness of the night before. I yowled and shut my eyes. And, of course, I started getting hard again. "Christ, Dave, stop being such a bitch," she chided, studying my penis closely. "I never got a close look at you last night. I'm curious about whether --"

Silence.

It lasted a few seconds, and I cautiously opened my eyes. Down below I saw Shannon, her mouth wide open over my erect dick, peering at it with her eyes bulging. She was staring at the side of my penis.

The right side.

The side with the pumpkin-shaped birthmark that showed whenever I got hard.

The side I'd printed out in full color on a six-year-old valentine I'd left for my teacher.

Slowly, her eyes came up to meet mine. They weren't so easy to read now.