Fully Loaded | Meet Wyatt: I made a mess in public...

Everyone is over the age of 18

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I tried to stop jerking off in public. I really did. I know it's not right to do it when anyone can be walking around and might see me. 

But the more I tried to stop, the worse it got. 

Maybe if I never did it in the first place, my body would have eventually adapted to not needing it during my long days out. But ever since that day I busted a load in the library toilet, my cock and balls have a schedule of their own. 

Like I said, when I tried to reason with myself and stop, it got worse. Because I would resist during my breaks in between classes to go to the library, the urges got more powerful during the times there was no way to relieve myself. 

Dick brain is a real thing for me. I mean it. One time I was trying to abstain, I was in my chemistry class after and I could not stop thinking about cumming into a beaker and measuring how much I cum. 

I actually don't know how much I cum, but I've learned that I need to aim my cock at something that drains or else I'm about to spend the next 10 minutes post-nut cleaning up. It's the worst when it's the third nut of the day and I think I can get away with just pulling up my shirt to cum on my stomach and end up having to put on a new one and rinsing out my hair again. 

How much of this 50 ml beaker can I fill up?

The image of the beaker rapidly filling up with thick white liquid in jets and then overflowing onto my hand….

I stole the beaker.  

I put it in my backpack when nobody was looking and pretended like everything was normal for the rest of the lab. That shameful feeling alone from stealing made me hard as fuck. 

I'm going to fill it up. I'm going to stroke my cock right into it and splash my juices right against the measuring lines and make them hard to read. Then I'm going to pour it out and watch it slide off the beaker's spout in its thick jelly-like consistency into the toilet. 

I stay hard thinking about it until the end of class. I didn't hear anything my lab partner said either because all I can think about is rubbing out this backed up load inside me. Nothing is more important right now. 

After the lab, I went to the bathroom on the top floor of the library to do my experiment. You can imagine my disappointment when I found out that the one stall is taken. I only have 10 minutes between classes too, so it's looking like my fantasy won't be fulfilled. 

Dick brain is a funny thing. It's almost like your cock is able to convince you to do the most ridiculous thing. Something that you would never do in your post-cum clarity. What is probably a horrible idea…just seems so hot. 

I have to cum. I'm not going to be able to make it through another class with this ache in my balls. But if this bathroom isn't free, the ones on the lower floors probably aren't either. 

If I can't cum in something that drains, then… 

Then what? 

I could cum in the beaker then throw it away. That way I don't even have to wash it and return it to the laboratory. I repeat my plan in my head: dump my load, measure it, get rid of the evidence.

In my horny state, I can't find the flaw in my plan. I walk around the different stacks and sections in the library until I find one corner full of old music history books. There's no one here. 

I pull out the beaker from my backpack and examine how it feels in my hand. I'm almost certain I can fill this up in one go, but it's hard to say because my cum comes out usually in a faucet fashion, so I don't quite know what it would look like all concentrated into one space. 

My nerves didn't seem to affect my cock, because I'm still painfully hard when I unzip my jeans slowly to avoid making too much noise. 

I know from the first grip on my cock that this is going to be a quick one. 

Way

Too

Fucking

Backed

Up

I pull the foreskin down and my slit oozes some precum, as if it knew that I needed it. I rub it into my cock and start some small strokes while looking around for people.

I'm not sure if it's the excitement of masturbating in the open public or if my balls are really just so loaded, but it feels like just a couple of strokes are going to push me over the edge. 

This is the part where I admit that I think I'm sick in the head. 

I know I need to get to class.

I know I need to blow as quickly as possible. 

I know I'm in a public place with my cock hanging out of the fly of my jeans. 

But I also know if I cum now, I won't fill up the beaker. I'll get some out, and it'll temporarily relieve the pressure so I can get home. I might even make it halfway on the bus ride before I feel that ache again.

But I won't fill it up. 

I pull my aching balls out of my boxer’s slit too to tend to them, enjoying the depraved pleasure I'm getting from touching myself while breathing in the smell of old books.

I pull down my foreskin again and pinch the wet head gently between my index and thumb, massaging myself at the edge. 

So hard.

So sensitive. 

A couple more seconds… 

Just so I can blow it all out… 

Drain myself into this beaker…

Have it overflow and drip onto this old gray carpet… 

I close my eyes and feel the level of urgency rising in my upper body. I'm finding it more and more difficult to control my breathing and my heart feels like it's beating in my head. I relinquish my thought process to my dick and let it pull myself closer. 

…closer….

…closer…. 

A feeling of liquid surged up my shaft and a jet of precum sprays out, landing on the carpeted floor in front of me. I watch it sink quickly into the old carpet, leaving my mark. My pits start to feel damp as I position the beaker in front of my tip.

Here it comes…

Here it comes….

Here it comes… 

I'm going to fill it up. I can feel it. I'm going to cum big. 

Really big.

Everywhere 

So much. 

My body trembles at the incoming release of the dam. My finger massages my frenulum.

I convince myself to enjoy just a couple more seconds of this glorious feeling. That feeling when every cell in my body is desperate for the discharge of energy. 

“...tomorrow…I have…” The garbled dialogue makes no sense to my dick brain at first, but a part of me is still aware enough to make me quickly zip up my pants, almost catching my foreskin and nearly causing me to drop the beaker. 

So close. My cock is teetering on the edge of orgasm, ready to explode at the next touch. Being pushed against the rough denim outside of my boxers is almost enough to do it. 

A guy with slicked-back brown hair and a compression shirt walks into sight, talking on the phone. 

“Yes baby, I just got to the history section,” he says into his hand. “I'm sorry Julia, we finished training late. I'm here now. What's the book you need again?” 

In his other hand is one of those plastic cups you shake protein powder in. He lifts his hand to start chugging down the thick sludge that's inside. 

Oh…

Oh no…

Oh no! 

His Adam's apple moves up and down as he gulps down the liquid.

The image of my cum flowing out of the beaker's spout comes into my head again as he gulps loudly in the library's vacuum of silence.

Oh no! 

I clench down with the kegel muscle as hard as I can to fight the pressure back, but it's a lost battle. 

I squeeze my legs together as my cock blasts uncontrollably in my jeans, still outside of my boxers. Being unable to get any stimulation or even make any noise is absolutely

fucking

torture. 

And I just cum.

And cum.

And cum.

gulp gulp gulp

I quickly grab any book from behind me and cover my crotch. The cum is dripping down my right thigh as the guy walks past me. He pauses right in front of me and looks slightly above my head. 

“Hey man, I just need to get behind you here.”