Nope, something starts rumbling downstairs...

The beads of sweat running down his face and back were only momentary distractions.

The ninety minutes of class seemed to bleed longer and longer, every minute bringing some new trouble to fret over. It started out with his erect cock straining against the collar of his shirt, the occasional pulse threatening to let it pop free into the open air. A few minutes later, he realized how overly sensitive he was- every single breath he let out left a light, teasing brush against his glans. By the time he realized this and started controlling his breathing, he was hearing his balls faintly gurgle as they churned out cum with abandon.

Time ticked on. Every few minutes, he felt another twinge as the fabric wrappings keeping his balls in check shifted, searching for a spare millimeter of slack that didn't exist. He swore that, with every gurgle and shift below (well, above) the belt, he could feel every single cup of his gallons of cum swirl around in there. Much too often for his comfort, he had to shift himself back on his chair as his balls began to press against against both his arms and the table in front of him.

As far as he could tell, the other students were too engrossed in the lesson, and the teacher had his head down in his notes. That was all for the best, as he was a certified mess at the moment. Dripping sweat, balls gurgling, adjusting himself far too often to be inconspicuous. Worse, he could feel himself slipping all that much more into ecstasy. He snapped himself out of ball-fixated trances, forcefully had to pull his hands away from tracing circles on his bloated cum-tanks, and most recently, he caught himself tracing the ridge of his glans with his pencil's eraser through his shirt.

He grit his teeth and tried stilling his breath, but the only thing he could focus on was his musk, thick on the air. He felt precum beginning to pour out of him and trickle down his chest, dribbling down and ending up just centimeters away from where they started their journey in his packed cum-tanks. He could almost feel his seed seeping up, readying itself to fire its heavy loads anywhere his cock was willing to point. Fuck, he was just about ready to--

“Alright,” The professor snapped his book closed, “class dismissed.”

Wolfram's head perked up and for a moment, he sat there waiting for the words to register. The moment his slowed synapses clicked, with one large arc of his arm, he messily swept the items on his desk into his backpack, swung it wildly onto his shoulder, and wasted no time throwing himself down the stairwell, his package sloshing back and forth with every step. He only slowed near the door to ensure he didn't into the door frame and didn't dare sparing a second to note how much less space there was on either side of his balls.

Wolfram continued running down the hall, praying that his heavy footfalls were covering up his churning and sloshing around. It'd be tight, but he should have enough time to get back to his dorm and--

A loud gurgle interrupted his thoughts as his wraps suddenly felt a lot tighter.

Wolfram made a hard turn, heading down the hallway that he almost passed. He needed somewhere private, and now. The janitor's closet was too far away, now that the closest thing was the men's room.

Thinking quickly as he approached, he grabbed an unattended janitor's cart as he ran by and slammed it down behind him after he slammed the door to the men's room open. He was quietly thankful when he saw the automatic lights flicker on; with any luck, that meant an empty bathroom for him to use.

He ducked into one of the stalls and began to disrobe, pulling down his sweatpants, yanking his shirt up, then reaching back and undoing the now tighter knot that kept his bulge constrained. A few tugs later, the fabric began unwrapping itself around him, slowly loosening its grip on his package as it unraveled. As loop after loop fell away, his balls sagged lower and lower, looking like they were swelling larger with each lap. In one final burst as the last of the cloth fell away, his cock and balls tumbled free into the air, slapping heavily against his thighs before jiggling to a stop. For a few seconds, the trickle of precum strengthened to a stream as though **** out of his body by the impact.

Wolfram stood there for a moment, transfixed by his own body. His plump balls, ready to spill their load; his thick cock, pulsing with his heart beat; the growing puddle of precum, spreading across the tiles. He was ready.