Nightcap at Blaire's

Where you're headed now isn't even a question. It's practically tradition to go over to your best friend's apartment after being rejected. When they turned 18 back in January, two months after your own birthday, they moved out of their parents house into their new place.

As you start walking, you try to consider if something becomes a tradition after doing more than twice, or if doing it over a consistent period of time is what makes it tradition.

It's now March, and it's your tenth time heading to their place after as many rejections in less than 3 months, so either way it's definitely tradition. Ugh, thinking about that is depressing.

Thankfully Blaire's place is only a few blocks away, something you may or may not have considered when you chose the bar to meet that asshole with. What did you even see in him? He wasn't even that interesting to be a partner, much less a mate.

Was it because he had curly, dark hair that looked kind of sexy with the faded sides? Or maybe it was the little bit of muscle definition that he had? You knew how hard it was for guys to gain muscles, so you can't deny that that was an attractive factor. He looked like someone who wouldn't break if you fucked him.

As you continue musing over what made you even want to date that dweeb, you don't notice that your contemplation led to a growing erection peaking out from the top of your shorts. You keep walking obliviously, not noticing the looks that others were giving you.

"I mean, he had a really small waist too, and a nice tan. Very lithe, very fuckable. Can't say I ever did remember what he'd talk about though."

Each step you take pushes your cock further and further above your waistband until your cock is almost fully erect and pressed against your stomach, the tip nestling it's way between your boobs. The night cool night breeze carries the lust-filled scent of precum away from body.

Your thoughts get interrupted by screech of tires on asphalt and the heavy crunch of metal being bent.