"So it's been a month?"
"At least."
"Since you came?"
"Yes."
"Liar!"
"Why would I?"
"Is that even possible?"
"Apparently."
Nick shifted in his seat, not comfortable with the conversation. They sat alone on his futon in his tiny one-bedroom apartment watching Netflix with his friend's cousin's subscription.
He and Hanna had fucked before. Well, once -- a drunk college thing. There was also that other time when they were 17, and she went down on him at Rob Taylor's prom party because her boyfriend had hooked up with Ms. Carter, their Spanish teacher. But they had been "just friends" for a few years now, and he had never really liked to talk about sex. It was awkward, and he never knew the line between honesty and bragging; sincerity and creepy.
Hanna, on the other hand, didn't have that problem. She had always been bold, brash, confident. She had proposed the BJ at Rob Taylor's party. She had initiated sex the one time they did it. She had arrived at his dorm that fateful day drunk with a bottle of wine and wearing only a raincoat. He had always needed a push, and she was always there with a shove.
"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious. Her green eyes stared intently, perfectly set beneath a cute brown bob cut that framed her face perfectly. She had a faint accent that gave away her European background, and a body she never failed to showcase with tight clothes that showed off all the right places. Her white scoop-necked shirt showed enough cleavage to leave you wanting more, and her jeans were casual and sexy at the same time, which was also the best way to describe Hanna.
Nick considered her his best friend, but unlike most of his other friends -- mainly men -- she made him hard, constantly. He was pretty sure she knew, liked it and did it on purpose just to make him uncomfortable.
"I... I'm not sure," he said, blushing.
"Don't do that!"
"What?"
"Get all shy and quiet. I just told you about the guy I hooked up with who wanted me to wear a saddle and pretend to be a horse, you can talk to me about jerking off."
"Fair point."
"Well? Does it work?"
"My penis? Of course," he said. "It works.... Seriously. That's not funny."
She laughed. "OK, why haven't you in a month, then?"
"It's like... a fast."
"Are you... trying to lose weight? Because, if you are, as long as you don't eat the cum after you jerk off, you're fine."
"Hilarious.... No. I. Hmm. Look, I just felt like I was in a bit of a dry spell, sexually, and it was too easy to just jerk off, and I figured if I stopped for a while, it would motivate me to go out and, you know, live life."
"And has it?"
"Well, I'm here on a Friday night. So, not really. No. I am mainly fixated on trying not to cum."
"Is it hard?" she asked, with a smirk. "So to speak."
"Maybe..."
"Maybe?"
"Kind of..."
"Wait, are we talking about your cock or not being able to cum?"
"I'm not sure," he said. "Maybe both."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Is it hard?"
"Which one?"
"Let's start with your dick..."
"Um, because I haven't came in a month..."
"That the only reason?" she bit her lip in that teasing way that she knew drove him crazy.
"Oh. come on now," he said, hiding his face in a pillow.
"What?"
"You know what you are doing!" he moved the pillow from his face to over his lap.
"I have no idea what you are talking about..."
He smiled, feeling the general awkwardness build. "Fine. You are fucking hot. Is that what you want to hear? It's torture to talk about this... to YOU... when I haven't came in a month. I feel like it might just spontaneously shoot out of me."
"That would actually be hot."
"Really?"
"Sure. I've never had that effect before."
"Yeah, well, stand back. I might kill you."
Hanna shifted on the couch, her right arm slung over the back. She slid her leg under her body. Nick couldn't help but notice how tight her jeans were. He stole a glance at her crotch, seeing an outline of her panties and imagining what was hidden beneath. He quickly turned away. He was only halfway joking about cumming spontaneously.
"You should do it," she said.
"What?"
"Cum."
"OK. Duly noted."
"No, now."
