7:28 p.m.
Mac shifts in his beanbag as he plays online on his PS4, listening to the trash-talking players he is up against. Normally, an online session of Tekken 7 would have him in gamer mode, but this time, it is merely a concept of killing time until his 8:00 destination to Delilah's house.
Mac constantly looks at his cell phone to check the clock, but it is like time itself was slowing down. His penis begins throbbing through his sweat shorts with each thought of what happened earlier at school with Delilah and her foot and shoeplay teasing. Gone was the casual school outfit of his black collar shirt with blue stripes, and his dependable blue jeans. Delilah told him to dress comfortably, and what is more comfortable than a black tank top, and his basketball sweat shorts (which he even washed and dried off for this occasion)?
"Yeah, sure, just keep doing the same fuckin' combo, asshole!" he huffs at his flatscreen, watching defenselessly as he gets sucked into another death combo by the other player. He decides that he has had enough. He is already sexually frustrated; no need to be full of gamer rage as well. Shifting himself out of his beanbag, he carefully walks over to his computer and sits down on his chair. As he turns off the screensaver, the clock on screen reads:
7:42 p.m.
"Damnit, why can't it just be 8 already? I feel I can burst in my shorts at any second..." With a shake of his head, he ponders whether to just wait it off, or sneak a peek into his porn stash to ease his erection. It has been over a week since Mac has last released his pleasure, due to being busy and with his parents' divorce situation. All he has on his mind at the moment is Delilah's feet in those pantyhose. Mac grabs his crotch through his shorts, somewhat easing his sexual aches, but not enough to reach his preferred climax. He decides to save that for his best friend, who also made him promise not to hold back tonight. It is only a matter of time and patience.
Mac closes his eyes, daydreaming to the point where Delilah's essence appeared in his sights. He imagines her outfit: The lovely black and white dotted blouse, the white floral skirt that barely went to her knees.
By impulse alone, Mac grabs his hard crotch as he imagines himself embracing her gorgeous legs covered by the seductiveness of her sheer dark pantyhose. He hears her ever lovely giggle as she allow him touch her. Mac licks his lips, enjoying the subconscious view of her legs. But it is her flats... her white flats that she got last year that make him squeeze his crotch unexpectedly. The white flats that were now worn out and stretched to the influence of her feet being inside them for one whole year.
Mac thinks about how much she potentially played with her ballet flats while sitting in her room, in the living room, her outside patio, or even standing up in the kitchen. He wonders just how much sweat and foot odor her white flats had accumulated throughout the year. How much her shoeplay with her feet would build up a sexual high whenever he would finally have the chance to sniff even one of them.
He squeezes his crotch even harder at his deepest craving; the possibility of her watching him as he brings one flat to his nose. The vision of her beautiful smile and the sound of her encouraging giggle takes over him, inviting him with her lovely voice to do what he pleased with her flat. He feels his hand stroke his penis through his shorts, lost in his own imagination as he finally inhales the flat...
*SLAM*
Back to reality Mac falls, as he hears a door slam, followed by muffled voices moving through his wall. Sighing a deep and disgusted sigh, Mac shakes his head at what he hears. He knows what is going down in the hallways. His mom and dad are in the midst of another verbal confrontation. He listens onto the ever violently growing conversation:
"Oh, sure, Jessica, blame it all on me! That's all you're ever good it, is taking your faults and tossing them at someone else!"
"Stop trying to flip this around! You're the one that screwed us over, Stanley! Me and Macky!"
Yes, it already got to the point where he was being involved by name. Mac's frustrations are now growing by the second, and he takes another look at his cell phone:
7:49 p.m.
"Fuck..." Mac scoffs at himself, not knowing what else to do to kill the time. The verbal battle between his parents is getting louder. It is all becoming too much for him to bear. He'd had enough. He has to leave and get out of there now. Walking to his door, the voices of his parents become more clear:
"Jess, just LISTEN to me for one second!"
"How about YOU go to HELL?!"
Mac opens the door, and storms down the stairs, hoping to avoid the conflict between his parents. He desperately wants to just leave and never come back. He make his way to the last step on the stair...
"Mackenzie!"
"Ugh..." he quietly grumbles. He hated his full name, but the respect he has for his parents forces him to stop in his tracks. Turning around, he looked up at his mom, watching him with her tear-induced puffy eyes.
"Where are you going, honey?" Jessica asks him.
He answers back as politely as he could, "Just out for a walk, you know? I need to clear my head."
"Macky, sweetie, please don't think this is all your fault. It's just differences between your father and I."
Stanley, Mac's father, slightly scoffs at her. "Oh, NOW you're gonna refuse to blame anybody. Where was that 2 minutes ago?!"
"Stanley, would you just stop being an asshole for one second?!"
"Mom, Dad, I..." Mac tries his best to plead with them both.
"Quiet, Mackenzie! This is between me and your mother!"
