Sick Perverted Bastard Am I

I came so close to getting into so much trouble today. It scared me.

Austin just got out of class, and because I'm a complete social dependent, I waited on him to hang out for a while. He asked me were the spray room was, and I lead him to it. That's when I nearly got myself in trouble.

The hallway leading to the spray room was darken. The reason was, according to Austin, that the electric bill was getting ridiculous, so in order to cut down on wattage, they removed several bulbs from areas of the school nobody goes to as often. Once in the spray room, I found myself closing the door behind myself and Austin.

Keep in mind that the spray room is actually just a five square-foot closet with a high-power ventilation fan at head level. There's also a table that takes up about half of the space for projects to rest on while being sprayed. So, yeah, there's not much space to move around.

Being in there alone with just him in an area of the school people rarely go to, I found myself getting hard rather suddenly. I wanted to just pounce on him. I had the urge to just throw myself all over him as he bent over looking at the spray cans left behind to find if any of them had any paint left in them. It was the most difficult time for me, because I knew I couldn't get away with it.

When he found a can with paint left, I asked him what he's going to use it for. He said he needed to touch up his pants, and I left the spray room as he tagged himself along his right pants leg.

I tried to get my mind off of what may have happened by looking at a discarded art piece someone did. Apparently, someone took the time to find and glue to a white wood panel several dozen Dum-Dum suckers in an arrangement that looked like a color spectrum. The fact that it was there help keep some of the tension of what my mind was going through off the subject until the ride home when I started to feel like a complete pervert.

I need to get laid to the point where sex is boring to me.