Choking on Testosteron

Maybe it was three inches, possibly four. Inches of flesh. Not just flesh, but tanned flesh bristling with kinky, thick, dark brown hair. Twisting, curling hair long enough that some reached over the hem of his pant leg, twisted over the top of his white sweat sock. Those inches of hairy skin had been the focus of my attention through nearly the entire chemistry lecture... and the source of the pulsing hardon in my own slacks. It was also the root of the churning, horny folding and flutter from my rectum, up past my taint, swallowing my balls and coursing around my tumescence and fanning across my abdomen and into my chest. If I had been remotely conscious, I'd have worried that I was literally drooling and making audible grunting sounds to accompany the fantasy running full throttle ahead. I had been suffering unholy lust for this stud for weeks now, knowing to sit just behind him and to his left side in the lecture hall, giving me my finest voyeuristic opportunities. Like today, it was sometimes just a few inches of hirsuite shin. Other days, as he leaned forward in his desk, the t-shirt he always wore pulled out of his jeans revealing the smooth skin of his side, just above the beltline. But what I was completely obsessed about was one more glimpse of that hairyness across the low of his back in the center... the swath of dark brown twisting pelt that I was certain also covered his tight, square ass compactly held in the 501s. Fuck, he made me weak with desire. Today, I imagined those few inches of leg hair continuing up his shin and calf, thinning to smoothness behind his knee, but then completely surrounding the trunks of his thighs as it thickened even to greater density running up under his balls and filling the cleft of his deep ass cheeks. I imagined smothering inside that cleft, inhaling his sweat and funk, my drool wetting the hairs and plastering them to his marble skin. This horniness was most harsh today, a racking, violent rawness pulling my legs apart, forcing my body to jerk and jar as it left the lecture hall following this utterly unaware hunk in front of me. It took every ounce of self control to hold my body back from lurching forward onto his body, dragging him down onto the terrazzo floor, humping my crotch against his ass as I pulled his jeans down, my cock already having torn through the buttons of my jeans under its own power, the head seeking the deep and steaming hole it desired. HOLY FUCK! Were others aware of this heat in me? Was I throwing pheromones with each breath, all others overwhelmed by the intensity I was feeling, prepared to bend over and accept the sperm I was certain to be blowing in tidal washes down the hallway of the chemistry building? This horniness. This horniness that simmered first from an uncertain vision of a few inches of hairy leg on a stud sitting next to me had metastasized into a veritable fission of atomic energy... and just from my head, my horny youth, my bubbling, gurgling, completely uncontrolled hormonal body awash in testosterone. FUCKFUCKFUCK. What in the name of all that is holy would today have been like had I not already jacked my cock in the shower this morning? There was something wrong with me, I was sure. No one should be this horny. And every throbbing, sweaty, strained muscle in my body, every pore crying out for release, the bl**d hot in the center of my core was thrilled and nearly euphoric in the revelation of my maleness and gleeful lust. Now, all I have to do is get laid. And get laid quick. What IS that fucker's name? To be continued.