Fighting Chance Part 1

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Ever had that maddening need to pee in the middle of something important?

I’m crass, I know, but training’s been over three hours without a bathroom break, so I’m starting to wonder what the smell from my training partner is… or if it’s from me. Our finals are a week from now, so we’re required two more hours of suffering.

I focus on stopping my bladder from letting loose, but when the Sensei announced our release, so many people rushed to the small bathrooms that I was left pissed and needing to.

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Luckily, there was a bathroom outside the dojo, and instead of stalls, it had a large strip of marble where guys could just line up and start pissing.

I quickly let loose a heavy stream, and felt so dumb when the other men in the urinal started staring at me moaning with pleasure.

Turning several shades of red, I returned to my business, hoping it’d finish soon. But I immediately noticed someone still watching me, so I turn my head and saw a slim young man as my dick’s captive audience.

On both his arms were tattoos so intricate it’d make a Yakuza warlord look like Daisy Duck. Tensing up, I kept quiet hoping he’d look away. Damn… tensing up made the blood rush to my penis, so I was mortified to see I was getting harder, rising to a chubby. The kid licked his lips, his eyes still stuck to my cock.

Tucking my dick back in my hakama, I rush back to the dojo. Thankfully, the stalls were almost empty, with the guys washing up in the shower stalls; I wash up.

Some guys commented on how I was getting really good, though I honestly didn’t notice. All that mattered to me was I was feeling better about myself, knowing I had a fighting chance in a brawl. After most of them left, Gerard, my ukemi, comes over to ask me if I noticed anything “weird” about our sparring today.

“No. Should I?”

“Uhh… well, if you didn’t,” he says quietly, “then I guess it’s alright. See you next week, man.”

When he left, a chill crept over me to realize he was looking at me where the tattooed boy was looking at.

And I was hard.

Things got stranger when I got home. While cooking my dinner, a frantic knocking got my attention. Gerard was outside, desperate.

“Dude, please help me! I’m going out this weekend with the Wife, but my son doesn’t want to be left home, so he’s asked if he could hang around with a friend of mine.”

“And you think I’m a friend of yours?” I ask, with frost on the “yours”.

“Shit, it’s like six months hasn’t done anything to you… please, man, I haven’t eaten rug since the first day of training! She’ll kill me if I balk!”

Sensei forbade us of all worldly needs and desires until the finals. Sensei is an asshole and deserves to be knocked over.

“Alright. I totally understand. Where’s the kid?”

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