Feeling defeated

You dry yourself off with your towel, taking stock of your situation. You look at yourself in the mirror. In increasing order of severity, your problems are: that your skin is all pruney from being in the shower too long, your balls have gone from merely hurting to the most painful case of blue balls you have ever had, you feel like you rubbed your cock skin raw, and your cock is rock hard, completely unable to cum.

This is something new and something deeply upsetting about your body, assuming that this is your body, failing to reach its completion after so long. And by God did you try every technique in the book to get yourself there, until you simply gave up in frustration. The fact that your cock is still rock hard and dripping a constant drool of precum is now more an insult to you then it is exciting.

You look at yourself in the mirror, sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. You slip on your change of clothes, just a t-shirt, underwear, and basketball shorts, and feel like they definitely are tighter then they are supposed to be. You can see your muscles through your shirt more clearly, and the crotch of your shorts is definitely more packed then you remember it being.

Also you immediately notice a new problem, as that drooling pre-cum immediately starts to permeate through your underwear, threatening to stain your shorts. You have an idea, a stupid idea, but an idea none-the-less. You take some toilet paper and press it inside your clothes to absorb your prodigious output, as well as tuck your manhood in with the head under the elastic as to hold the paper pad and penis in place.

With that situation resolved, you finally leave the bathroom and smell food, and feel your mouth instantly begin to water.

You are moving on autopilot into the kitchen, propelled by ravenous hunger. You see Alice, wide eyed and looking at you, but more importantly, you see the bowl of hot soup that she has just ladeled out of the pot.

You grab the bowl, making Alice jump a little as your hands enwrap hers, but right now the food is your only goal.

“Thanks,” you murmur as you sit down at the table, not even bothering to grab a spoon but simply lifting the bowl to your lips and tilting it back. You gulp the soup down, delicious chicken noodle soup. Your eyes close, and you make a note to get the recipe for this from Mark.

You set the empty bowl down on the table with a satisfied sigh.

“Oh,” you say, looking a bewildered Kathrine in the eyes, “when did you get here?”

“Just a minute ago,” Kathrine responds, looking at you like you have grown antlers as well as watching you knock back a full sized bowl of piping hot soup like it was nothing. She looks at Alice and then back to you.

“Can I have another bowl of that please?” you ask, offering the empty bowl to Alice, who, still looking shocked, takes it from you to refill it at the stove.

“So,” Kathrine asks, “why weren’t you at school today?”

“Put a pin in that,” you say, eyes on the prize which is right now, the bowl, as Alice brings it back to you, filled again with more soup. You eagerly take it from her hands.

“Thanks,” you say, meeting Alice’s eyes for a moment before chugging another bowl of soup in one long go, leaning back and emptying the soup directly down your gullet.

“Goodness,” you hear Alice murmur, watching you in macabre interest.

“Oh that hit the spot,” you breathe out as you set the bowl down again and then look at Katherine, who is looking on in gathering concern.

“So?” Kathrine says.

“Well I,” you look at Alice, who is still staring at the empty bowl, “slept in, had a bit of an accident while working in the archives last night, and didn’t wake up from my alarm clock this morning.”

“Oh,” Kathrine says, full on glaring at Alice, “what kind of accident?”

You see Alice bristle for some reason.

“I fell off a ladder,” you say flatly, belly full of soup, “I’m feeling much better now though.”

“You fell off a ladder,” repeats Kathrine, searching your face for details, “and just slept it off?”

“Yep,” you say and give a little burp.

“Sure,” Kathrine says, sighing.

“Man,” you say, feeling a sudden draft, ‘“is it cold in here for you two as well or just me?”

“Hey,” Alice says, catching your attention again, “there’s a little bit of soup left, do you want it now or?”

“Absolutely,” you grin, offering your bowl to her, again, which she takes, again, and ladling out the last of the soup in the pot.

“Here,” she replies, handing you the bowl.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the half full bowl of soup, giving Alice a grin that makes her look away.

You go to bring the bowl to your lips again.

“John! Please!” Kathrine gasps, making you pause.

“Wha?” you ask, bowl paused halfway to your mouth.

“You have utensils,” Kathrine groans, “please use them.”

You shrug, setting your bowl down and discovering the unused spoon at your side, which you quickly use to start to lap up the last of this delicious soup.

Kathrine and Alice sit in mutual shocked silence as you inhale the rest of your soup, the tinking of your spoon against the bowl and the din of traffic outside the only noise in the apartment. You, however, are focused elsewhere right now, polishing off all of the soup, setting the bowl down, and then raising your arms over your head in a resounding stretch of relaxation.

“So, uh, John,” Alice says, forcing a smile, “did you tell me your sister was going to Poly State?”

You shrug your shoulders, “don’t think so,” you sigh and then look at Kathrine, “sorry that you never came up in conversation.”

“No complaint here,” Kathrine says, looking down, face red.

“Are you doing alright, by the way?” you ask, scratching your face.

“What do you mean?” Kathrine asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“I dunno,” you reply, “your face is super red right now.”

Kathrine mumbles something under her breath.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Kathrine replies.

“Anyways,” Alice butts in, stepping up to the table, and meeting your eyes, “I’m glad to see that you’re, uh, doing better.”

“Thanks for heating the soup up,” you reply.

“No problem,” Alice replies, “let me just grab my bag and I’ll be going now.”

“Oh,” you reply, leaning back while Alice reaches over you. You watch as her bust hangs down from her chest in front of your eyes, even through her sweater and bra.

“Me too,” Kathrine says, awkwardly getting up from the table, “I have readings for class to do.”

“It’s Friday,” you reply, an eyebrow cocked.

“And midterms are in a few weeks,” Kathrine shots back at you, “what’s your point?”

You shrug.

“Oh,” Alice says, pausing at the threshold to the living room, “and uh, I’m going to say that we aren’t gonna be working on the archives tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the day off,” you say with a slight grin.

“Least I can do,” Alice says, glancing at Katherine and then back at you.

“Alright,” you say while standing, feeling the soup sloshing around in your stomach, “I’ll see you out.”

You walk Kathrine and Alice to the door of your dorm and wave them off, watching them walk down the stairs one after the other through the peephole for a moment before yawning hard.

“Ah man,” you say, fighting down another yawn, “I’m already tired again?”

You walk into the kitchen, picking up your bowl and spoon, and the soup pot and putting them in the dishwasher, before moseying into your room. You pause, suddenly cold, and close your bedroom window.

“Mark out here trying to freeze me to ****,” you scoff, and then look at your inviting bed. You weigh the cost and benefit of hitting the hay already. You know you probably could go out tonight and hit the town on a Friday night, maybe even hit a home run and get lucky, but do you really want to that in this state? Your legs are heavy, your body still sore in places, but your cock is still awkwardly throbbing in your pants, the impromptu pad of toilet paper nearly soaked through. You stroke your chin, gazing at your closet, and then out the window at the afternoon light.