The remainder of the afternoon was just as torturous as the beginning.
I'd crossed my right leg over the left and squished my bedfellow down against the bench hoping that it'd be enough to reduce him back to his former state. My face was reddening from the strain of suppressing this slippery snake, despite the subsiding temperature and the disappearance of the last drop of cold beer from the glass beside me.
Jackie had run back out to the group, but I was still feeling as though the lower half of my body might internally combust. If I acted now, and decisively, I might be able to excuse myself temporarily to go take care of it for good. That would help for certain. Determined, I released my spring from its trap and allowed it to rebound back to its elongated status. My jeans were the only reason this was at all possible without broadcasting to the entire world that I was ravenously thirsty.
I stood and began walking back to the dormitory stairwell. Halfway there, a voice approached me from behind.
"Hey, where you going?" Levi said, breathy after the run over and having to have caught up with me.
"I. I was just going to use the restroom," I replied, his interjection paralyzing my pursuit toward freedom of thought.
"You know there's a bathroom on the ground floor, right?" he stated, his soft face puzzled, eyebrows arching upward with concern.
"Yeah, I just feel more comfortable going in my room." I answered.
"Can't say that doesn't seem fair." he continued as if I'd invited his opinion, "put on a suit and come join us while you're at it. We still have a couple hours of sunlight."
"Don't count on it," I said, setting a firm boundary for myself, "but I'll be back down, just give me a minute."
He shrugged, turned, and started making his way back out to the pad.
'Phew', I let out a sigh of relief. Sometimes I hated my brain, but when I needed it the most it had never disappointed. No longer needing to have discretion, I flew up the remainder of the stairs and down the hall to Jackie's and my room. I whipped inside, bolted right across to the bathroom door, entered and shut the door behind me. I could finally relax.
My back, sweaty and gross, pressed against the bathroom door. My groin was aching as I unzipped my pants, unbuttoned them, and shuffled them down to my ankles. It was rigid, angry, and pressed firm against my underwear. It had already broken through the first central barrier, and there existed a messy, wet dot at the precipice of where it was threatening to break through the second.
'That was close.'
I slid down the door until I reached the floor, letting my body collapse under gravity and the effort of holding itself upright.
Just like that, Jackie was there again. The imagination was a wonderful and miraculous thing. Fallen on top of me, but this time without a beer in either hand, he lay there grinding his suit against my underwear, pressing my shaft up toward my belly button. Up, and down. Up, and down. The tension was unbearable; the extension of my piece broke out through the second cotton door to reveal itself to the world. The air within the shade of the room contrasted sweetly to produce a cooling sensation on its freshly exposed skin. The interaction caused it to straighten even more than I thought was possible. If I didn't do something soon, it might break free entirely of its own accord.
I reached down and grabbed it with my right hand, squeezing down to contain what would come.
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
'FUCK', my brain screamed out while my body reacted instantly. My friend was stuffed back inside his jail, pants up over the waist, and my sorry ass out to the dorm room front door.
I swung open the door.
"What?!" I exclaimed, wondering who in the world would be knocking on the door with everyone being outside.
Not a student, not even a teacher, the man standing before me wore a salmon suit amidst the foreground of a white silk paisley decorated dress shirt. He had a quiet, dry-mud colored belt, that matched the color of his pointed shoes. Perhaps the most bizarre, he had a killer smile with the whitest teeth I thought ever possible. In his right hand was a similar light brown suitcase. Everything about this guy shouted, 'STYLE'.
"Who are you?" I asked, more confused and aloof than concerned.
"I'm the guy that can help ya with your little situation," he joked casually, gesturing vaguely at my groin.
What a charismatic person. Maybe a bit eccentric for my taste, though. The theatrics weren't really doing it for me, but even just mention of my private parts was enough to shatter the erection I'd been sporting the last hour.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Just call this numbah," he said flicking a business card from out of nowhere into his fingers like some kind of magician, "and we'll get you all the attention you need and duhserv BABY!"
He was so performative. What was with this guy.
"Yeah, ok, thanks for nothing," I replied, snatching the card out of his hand and flicking it across the room to my bed, "now fuck off."
I slammed the door in his face.
"There's a catch, though!" he shouted from the other side of the door, "Whenever you leverage our services, you gotta follow through on anyone that expresses an interest. That's how attention works, BABY!"
'What a freakin' moron.'
I couldn't believe that people like this existed and got off on these ridiculous pranks. Like, what was the actual point? Clowns in training?
He was right about one thing, though. His shenanigans had made it to where I was no longer confined to obsessing over Jackie.