To his right was a brand new box of man-sized tissues and a small bottle of baby oil, Harry's favourite lubricant. To his left was a small digital alarm clock, correct to within one second. He sat on the edge of his bed, anxiously wringing his hands as he watched the time tick by ever so slowly. Just two minutes remained before the start of his greatest challenge to date.
At exactly 15:55, his roommate Oscar's lecture would end and he would begin to make his way back to their shared room. It would take Oscar at least four minutes to reach the dorm, probably more like six, and that was all the time that Harry had. He could not afford to take any longer.
What was there to be gained from such risky behaviour? Nothing. Nothing but the sheer thrill of knowing you might, at any moment, be caught with your pants down, literally. Nothing but the smug satisfaction of keeping this dirty, little secret all to yourself. If he got caught, though, he would never be allowed to forget it. The embarrassment would be devastating and Oscar would never look at him the same again.
To watch the last minute pass was agonising. Harry's hand twitched in anticipation on his lap; beads of sweat emerged on his forehead, ready. With ten seconds to go, it crossed his mind to quit before he had even started - perhaps the risk was too great. What if Oscar's class had finished early? What if he walked in at the climactic moment? What if...
The clock struck 15:55 and the question vanished - he was doing this. He pulled his jeans down to below his arse, just low enough to get at his dick easily. He grabbed the limp flesh in his hand and attempted to stimulate it, closing his eyes to tap into the "wank bank" of his imagination. There were no visual aids allowed in the Danger Wank; you had to work from scratch.
Graphic image after graphic image flashed through his mind, each trying desperately to entice a rush of blood southward. The last girl he had fucked; the last boob he had squeezed; the last pussy he'd licked. His cock swelled a little, allowing him to finally get a good grip, forty-five seconds already gone. He remembered a porn video he had watched the previous day, how the muscle-bound stud had flung the tiny, stunning girl to the bed and mercilessly pushed his impressive cock into her, eliciting an erotic moan. His erection was solidifying but time was passing quickly.
With his free hand he grabbed the baby oil, dextrously flipping the cap open and squirting a generous amount onto his gradually growing cock and the hand so furiously beating it. He was hard now but he had lost focus and an orgasm seemed far off. The slippery sensation helped his imagination; he could just about pretend, if he really concentrated, that he was sliding in and out of a warm, wet cunt.
With two and a half minutes down, he was going to have to pound that imaginary pussy like crazy.
His balls tightened and he could sense the impending orgasm, but it wasn't coming fast enough. Nerves set in as he glanced first at the clock and then at the unlocked door. It was only the excitement of it all that kept him going, that kept him hard. He lifted off the bed, supported only by his free hand, and went at it with more vigour than he had thought possible; he needed to come, and soon.
Less than a minute remained until Oscar's expected arrival when Harry heard footsteps in the corridor outside. 'No!' he thought, but he was too close to stop; he was right on the edge. The steps grew louder, approaching the door and Harry bit down on his lower lip to stop a grunt escaping, his eyes fixed intently on the door handle. If this was Oscar, he was screwed.
The footsteps began to fade as whoever it was carried on past their room, unaware of the heart palpitations they had caused. Harry wasn't out of the woods yet though. He blindly clutched a handful of tissues and rose to his feet, still violently wanking, and directed the tip of his cock into them. Sweat trickled down his flushed face as his body went rigid from head to toe.
With almighty force, Harry's hips spasmed and he ejaculated, spurting forth lashings of white, gooey semen, the first squirt over-shooting his hand and landing in the middle of the floor. His breathing was heavy as his body started to relax but his heart beat faster when his ears discerned more footsteps, surely Oscar this time.
In a frantic scramble he launched the mass of cummy tissue into the bin underneath his desk and yanked his trousers up so fast he nearly gave himself a wedgie. Tucking his still semi-erect dick into his waistband, he grabbed another tissue to rapidly wipe up the stray ejaculate. Oscar was outside the door now, about to place his hand on the door handle. In break-neck speed, Harry slung the bottle of baby oil into a desk drawer, the slam drowning out the rattle of the handle, and dived onto the bed, just managing to pick up a car magazine and pretend to be reading it before Oscar walked in.
"Hey man, how's it going?" he asked, struggling to not sound breathless.
Oscar threw his satchel down on the bed and sat down at his laptop. "Not bad. What you been up to since I left?"
"Oh, nothing much," he lied, "Just sitting reading this." Harry grinned behind his magazine, full of self-satisfaction at having successfully pulled off the Danger Wank.
"Lazy bastard."
