Pent up

Frustration

I sat there, both my hands shaking ever so slightly as they held onto my phone, headphones hanging between my legs and connecting to my ears, dirty moans and slaps playing seemingly on loop as I watch the screen, rage and something else forming in my gut.

My leg jittered, bouncing up and down with rapid movements so I moved one hand to rest on my knee to try and stop the incessant bounce that just got worse with the contact.

For the last week I've been trying to prove a theory.

In science class the teacher was reviewing the effects of adrenalin for the upcoming test that took place last month, how it caused a fight or flight effect and how it made the body feel slow and heavy after a while, making you extremely tired. This had my attention pique and I came up with an idea.

Relying on adrenalin alone to win a fight gave you a 50/50 chance to win, it could make or break you. Either you win as fast as you can before you get lethargic and wobbly or your body gives up on you after a while and the chances of winning go down.

This is how I began to research a little and realized that testosterone was a much more powerful drug, and it almost ensures that I win, as my opponent will get progressively more weak, while the testosterone will keep me enraged and ready to attack, with the added bonus of making the other cower slightly from the strong hormone cocktail building up inside of me thanks to human biology and our olfactory nerve working its magic.

That's how I found myself watching a 2 minute long porn compilation video on my phone while my teammates waited, eager and ready, on the bleachers of the gym, locking eyes with the competition while the crowd cheered and sang. It was my turn to fight next and, to their knowledge, I was resting from a "tummy ache" before I went out. Obviously the "tummy ache" was a more... southern area problem.

It wasn't and ideal situation to say the least, watching porn with so many people out there waiting for me and many more eyes watching intently my every move, and one could only go so long without trying to relieve some of the pressure happening down there, but I was determined to make my method work and I was determined to win this years tournament, so a small case of blue balls was no competitor to my will to crush the competition this year.

I remove my hand from my knee and it involuntarily starts hovering towards my crotch, but I have a strong will so I stop the movement, yet it still feels like something is pulling my hand towards my body to touch something and relieve the throbbing pain of my dick inside my wrestling singlet. I decide to wrap it around my other wrist so I can steady my pulse. My breathing is hard and my heart is quick on my chest.

As the video ends, my coach comes in and tells me that it's finally my turn. My eyes open wide, not realising I had them closed in the first place, I yank the cord and the earplugs come flying out of my ears, I stand up and put on my protective gear.

Yes, this is it. The rage, the frustration. I'm so fucking ready. My heart it's still beating a little faster, I feel hot but not sweaty, my feet are fast under me and my posture, from an outside perspective, could be perceived as menacing.

I jump up and down to easy my leg muscles after sitting down for so long, a little worried something will rub my member, but my singlet holds everything tightly in place.

I step onto the mat and stare at my opponent.

He is lean and tall and looks fast, his muscles are not very defined but they are definitely there, a little scrawny but not weak. He's a newbie maybe, or a replacement, seeing as he looks nervous and like his build is not meant for this kind of sport; Like I'm one to talk. This is also not my preferred sport, but I was definitely bigger on the shoulder area and hunched to get closer to the ground, seeing as I was doing this for a while now.