Tim gains direction
The marathon sex evening, or more precisely night, was a last week memory for Tim. Life had dramatically changed. He now had an eager group of female company which, although not openly flirting for his attention, made it quite clear that 'word had passed around' and that he was quite welcome to advance towards them if he desired. Tim felt a little overwhelmed by all of this obscurely sexual attention and really didn't know how to handle it. He was extremely confident now that he could 'handle' any girls he chose, but the social niceties were still fairly beyond him.
This led to trouble!
But not from the girls around him. The other males in the class, who previously left Tim alone, were now zeroed in on this sudden change of sexual status of a used-to-be nobody.
They were jealous. And they were worried that Tim would somehow make it harder for themselves to engage in their own fucking with the girls of their choice. Ty, the ringleader and dominant 'alpha' male, had particular problems with the change in status quo. He was used to girls fawning for his attention 24-7 and absolutely relished the idea that he could have the girl of his will at any time. This decrease in numbers of the available female choices had him feeling angry and in some way deficient. These feelings were not compatible with Ty's psyche, so he thought that he needed to do something about it before it became the norm.
The time for him to 'do something about it' came during a PE lesson in the last week of the last semester of college. Everyone was feeling and acting a little loose, letting down their hair by degrees before that final yahoo which signalled the end of baby life and the beginning of an adult, university or not, career.
Ty's class, which also included Tim's class, as a competition of sorts, had just finished a fairly frenetic game of football. All the students were filled with a sense of fun and were constantly jiving and teasing each other all the way to the shower rooms. Ty made a beeline for Tim and insistently teased and pushed Tim into other students walking nearby. The others knew that Ty was up to something and played along, complaining about Tim's bumps and near trips.
Tim took these provocations as merely good fun, until Ty actually punched Tim quite hard in the shoulder. This hurt Tim and it caused him to pause and look Ty squarely in the eye. Tim was in a quandary. He now knew that Ty was trying to hurt him. He also knew that his new-found abilities, along with his rejuvenating cum, had built his previously slack, slim body into a muscle toned bundle of fitness and power. Something that Ty got a hint of when he punched Tim. It hurt Ty also! His knuckles felt as if they had hit a brick wall.
"Hey man! That hurt!" Tim allowed himself to say. The very fact that he spoke to Ty, rather than shrink away in fear, sparked another angry outburst from Ty. Ty was not used to this reaction to any of his challenges for dominance.
"Aw, poor baby hurt his shoulder! Must be from all that wanking," cooed Ty. The others gathered around and instantly became the audience, snickering and quietly urging Ty on with their comments. "Yeah, hand fucker."
Tim saw red. He usually avoided conflict and had been successful all throughout his school days at avoiding any out and out direct fight threats. This time was different. His confidence with sex and girls, etc had given him a fresh sense of his own pride, and most importantly, his own abilities. As quick as a flash, a speed which surprised even Tim himself, he shot back, "At least I wait until I'm home alone, rather than spray all over the bed when I am in a dormitory of classmates!
There was almost an instant silence. It was one of those, "Can I have a glass of milk?" in a western saloon type moments.
Ty had done his utmost to forget that hugely embarrassing incident way back at the excursion/camp. Not only had he practised selective memory techniques, but he also induced amnesia into anybody since then who in any way referred back to it. This induced amnesia was usually brought on by a swift kick to certain anatomical male parts which are not designed for contact at speed, namely the balls! The gathered crowd hushed and silently pleaded with Tim to run before he also succumbed to Ty's special brand of disease inducement.
Tim didn't run. He stayed and locked eyes with Ty. Tim's eyes gained that almost Clint Eastwood glint, which asked the well-known question, "Do you feel lucky punk?"
Ty knew that the moment of truth or dare had come. Here was someone who stood up to him. This someone had already produced two sobering facts for Ty. Tim was strong, and Tim was game. Logic would have determined that now was the moment for Ty to back down and continue the pretence of 'just kidding', but Ty being Ty, he didn't follow the normal laws of logic. His right hand came at Tim in a low arching sweep straight towards his solar plexus. Tim, with heightened senses and an uncanny sixth sense which enabled him to 'see' Ty's moves in slow motion blocked Ty with his left hand. "Now this is a new development!" Tim heard himself think.