Yup

Saturday.

Second best damn day of the week.

I remembered my mom telling me goodbye. She had to work on Saturday. Nights on weekdays, mornings on Saturdays. The only time we saw each other was on Saturday evenings, and Sunday. It sucked, but that’s how it was. And you do what you gotta do.

I woke up around 9:30, hopped in the shower and really enjoyed it. Not like the quick showers before school. I mean, I was always thorough, but this time I payed for the deluxe wash.

Everything was scrubbed, rinsed, and scrubbed again. I did my usual manscaping, trimming my bush short and neat, shaving my balls, and that little bit that wants to grow at the base of my shaft. It looked like a freshly pruned tree standing tall and proud. After that I lathered up and washed my cock and balls like I was going to sell it. Fresh and clean.

I did have to fight the urge to rub one out. It had been 2 fucking days. My balls were usually heavy and full, but today…good God. You have no idea.

I dried off and put on a nice pair of gray joggers and a hoodie. Perfect for a Saturday. I ran my fingers back through my damp hair, then spent some time choosing the right cologne, settling on Ol’ Faithful. It was the one I had gotten the most compliments on, at least from all the girls I had dealings with. I put a drop behind each ear, then reached under my hoodie and rubbed some down the middle of my chest, finally sliding my index finger across my pelvis, just under the waistband of my joggers.

I inhaled. Nice. A few slaps of deodorant under each arm and I was good to go. I checked my phone.

10:32 am.

I nodded, clasping my watch around my left wrist, then wiggled and twisted my wrist and forearm so it fell into place and sat just right. I rolled up my hoodie sleeves halfway up my forearms, making sure they were even, cleared my throat, and checked myself in the mirror.

Not bad. Not as nice as usually liked to dress, but today I needed to look like a student.

I swiped open my phone and opened my contacts, smiling at the newest one I added yesterday during the drive home. I opened my chat icon, typed in her name, and then paused. I stared at the text I sent myself yesterday, nibbling the inside of my cheek as I thought of what to type. I nodded when I decided, then quickly tapped the message and hit send. God, I hope he sees it first.

I want to see you

I re-read it, wondering if I should have typed something else. Too late now, but I did decide to add something.

Today

And then I waited. I busied myself by going downstairs and making something to eat. Occasionally I checked my phone to see if maybe I had missed a reply, but found none.

A half hour had passed and still, no response.

I slowly tapped out another text, losing patience, and hit send.

Okay. I understand

Still playing hard to get. I smiled, a thrill brightening my eyes a little. Have it your way.

You’d never know it rained last night. It was a little chilly, but an otherwise sunny day. I slowed down when I turned onto her street, going through everything in my head once more, like some last minute cranking for a test. Ah, shit. I’d have to do that quiz for school today on my iPad. Hmm. I glanced down at the backpack on the passenger seat, and nodded as the blanks in my idea filled themselves in.

I parked in front of the curb and got out of the car. I was excited. Any nerves I may have felt had disappeared on the drive here. It was ‘go time’ now.

My backpack slung over my shoulder, I cleared my throat, and rang the doorbell.

When he opened the door I felt my confidence wash over me like the warm water of my shower this morning. He was exactly what I thought.

“Um, hi,” he cautiously greeted me with a fake, mildly confused smile. “Can I…help you?”

“Is Miss Laura here?” I asked. “I’m Dylan. I’m supposed to come over for some tutoring?” I raised my eyebrow, as if the whole thing was putting me out, when I could be enjoying my weekend.

He tilted his head, confused. After all, why would a student need tutoring after only the first week of class? He eyed me with mild suspicion for a moment, but slowly nodded. I could see in his eyes what kind of person he was. Like her. I told you it was a gift. And first impressions were everything.

Before he could respond I stepped over the threshold and into the apartment. He backed up a step and let me, the somewhat nervous look on his face accepting what was happening. I put my head down and hid my smirk, then stood up tall and looked him in the eyes, but the smile remained. I couldn’t help it.

“H-hey babe?” He called out, his uncertain eyes still on mine.

I was a good several inches taller than he was, and made sure he knew it. He couldn’t be much taller than his fiancé, and I towered over her. If he even tried to stand up straight, I didn’t notice. If anything, his shoulders seemed to slump. He was scrawny. The pictures didn’t do it justice. The feeble attempt at a goatee looked ridiculous on his chin. God, they all seemed to look like that, didn’t they. It was like there was some guidebook on how they should look and dress. There was no contest. I had no idea what she saw in him.

“Beckett, right?” I asked, raising an eyebrows and offering a friendly smile. The look in his eyes softened a little as he nodded.

“Nice to finally meet you,” I said, offering my hand. He looked down for a moment, then his Christian, man of the house sensibilities kicked in, his hand confidently taking mine. I waited for the squeeze. And waited. Christ, was that it?

“Good to meet ya,” he said, his attempt at confidence, the fake-friendly way he said it, even the sound of his voice…it all made me want to laugh. If anything, I was more confident now.

“Likewise,” I said, showing him how a man shakes hands. I saw it in his eyes. “Congrats, by the way. Have you guys picked a date yet?” I could tell he was uncomfortable. I let his hand go and I knew it hurt. Both his ego and his knuckles.

“Uhh, not yet,” he responded, adopting his weak smile of false confidence. “Babe?” He called out again. I just smiled at him. Jesus Christ, this is the guy? I knew all I needed to know about him in just these few moments. He smiled up at me, avoiding my eyes as the awkwardness settled in.

We both looked when she rounded the corner, coming from what was probably the kitchen. Her messy bun bobbed softly as she wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. She was wearing a pair of light gray sweat shorts and a matching gray, cutoff hoodie. My eyes traced down her bare legs to her small feet, in white ankle socks and no shoes. She was drying her hands off wish a hand towel when she looked up.

The look on her face when she saw me was priceless.