The Closet Exhibitionist
First Exposure — The closet
I rolled out of bed and wandered through to the kitchen without stopping to get dressed.
I woke to the sound of my flatmate closing the door and smiled to myself. Much as I enjoyed his company I still preferred those rare moments where I had the apartment to myself. My bed was warm and comfortable and I was in no hurry to be anywhere in particular. I lay there, fading in and out of sleep as my imagination ran through an increasingly depraved series of fantasies involving my fellow students and one particularly inappropriate scene featuring a lecturer I really shouldn’t be contemplating. When I finally came to full consciousness I was aware of a dull throb coming from my groin and the certain knowledge that sooner or later I would need to satisfy that particular urge. I decided to practice delayed gratification and hold the thought for the shower later, that way I knew my climax would be considerably more intense. Instead I concentrated on the next pressing need, coffee.
Knowing the flat was empty, I rolled out of bed and wandered through to the kitchen without stopping to get dressed. The familiar routine of preparing the coffee machine helped to distract my subconscious enough to deflate the swelling and reduce the urgency of the ache. With the…
