Skip clubs and go home.

Thoughts continue to buzz in your head. As things stand, you can't even look someone in the eye for longer than a few seconds without feeling uncomfortable - minimizing contact might be the best course of action. You hurry back to class with nary a whimper, managing to get past the remaining minutes without getting noticed until the bell rings.

Although you typically spend your afternoons attending enthusiast clubs for manga, games and the like, there's no way you'll be doing that day. You fire off a few messages on your mobile phone, telling a few clubmates that you're feeling ill; the best answer you feel you can give considering circumstances. Thankfully the trip home goes without a hitch, though you spend most of it mashing buttons on your cellphone, trying to take your mind off things. No sooner than you reach home, you make a beeline for your room and shut the door behind you.

Pulling your skirt upwards, you groan in despair at the sight of the thick bulge in your underwear. If anything, you're almost certain that it's got bigger on the way home. Pulling your panties down, you gasp as the member springs to attention, like a drowning man breaching the water surface. You stare at the organ, bobbing away as if it has its own heartbeat, taunting you with its very presence. Obviously neglecting and ignoring it hasn't helped at all, but what will?