Bored in biology, busy in the bathroom

by jbspangsJuly 2, 2025474 words3 min read

This is a true story from my days in high school—everyone in this story is 18+. You guys seemed to like the last one, so here’s another memory from my Florida HS days in the 2000s.Biology class was always painfully boring, and our teacher’s droning voice made it worse. There was a new guy from Utah, a little shorter than me, maybe 5’10, with a lean build, broad shoulders, and long arms. His pale skin and white-blond hair gave him a sharp, almost delicate look. Most days, I tried to ignore everything and half-sleep at my desk, until I noticed him shifting in his seat and slowly massaging himself under the table over and over again.At first, it was just a fun distraction from the monotony. But the more I watched, the more I realized it was almost ritual for him, like this was how he got through the class. It quickly became my favorite secret thrill, sitting there imagining what he was hiding in those preppy khakis while everyone else pretended not to see. I spent third hour every day replaying the possibilities in my head.One day, he was really going at it, shifting and breathing hard, before he raised his hand and said it was an emergency. As he hurried out, the classmates around me finally asked what I was always staring at. I told them, and they dared me to follow him. So I did.I slipped out of the classroom and made my way to the nearest bathroom, trying to stay quiet. There were three urinals and two stalls, and from one of them I heard the slow, rhythmic sound of skin on skin. He stopped as soon as he heard me come in, but I didn’t leave. I stood there, watching the shadows of his feet under the door, imagining how big he must be.I stepped into the other stall and sat back on the toilet, pushing my pants down and wrapping my hand around myself. In the reflection on the shiny tile, I could see him biting his lip, one hand working a thick cock that looked huge even from where I sat. He played with his balls between each stroke, his breath ragged. I matched his rhythm, watching every movement, but he came fast, shuddering and gasping. Maybe he saw me, maybe he didn’t. As he hurried back to class, I moved to his stall. He’d left a mess on the seat, and I used it as lube.I smelled his seed as I scooped it up, spreading it over myself as I gave three quick strokes. I couldn’t hold back any longer and came hard, spilling over the toilet and splattering the wall. I cleaned up as best I could, left the bathroom, and made sure to give him a knowing smirk when I slipped back into class.

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