It’s bad…

You keep staring at guys. All the jocks suddenly seem super hot.

(…I wish someone would just-…) you think while pressing your legs together in the seat. You would do anyone. Suck anyone. You just need to get fucked. You even styled your outfit and hair hoping someone would notice. Nobody has.

You also changed more. You’ve become more androgynous while sleeping. Skinnier. More dainty. But still obviously a boy, even if effeminate. You daydream about being railed. Faint words of “groups of two” and “partner up” barely disturb your fantasies.

At the end of the day, you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“…urk…!”

You spin around, instantly backing up and being stopped by the locker. It’s Jack. One of the Football players. Not a Star, but one of the better linemen. He makes you feel small. And aroused. He speaks deeply.

“…Yo. I missed class today. You’re my partner. Work on it or I’ll kill you.”

He walks away, while you feel yourself get wet.