Something about back when we'd shared the apartment, and my sinking feeling felt confirmed since I'd obviously put the thought in her mind.The day. The day our friendship had come so very close to ending, had ended temporarily, in fact. They'd been dating a couple of weeks, and she'd been walking on air the whole time. And he'd come over that afternoon, looking for her I'm sure. And when I'd informed him he'd missed her, the grin he'd given me as he made a comment he surely shouldn't have. He was so god-awful hot. And then just minutes later when she'd walked in on the two of us. On our living room floor.If there ever had been a half-hour I wanted to take back, to erase from my life, that was certainly it. He'd been out the door in seconds, leaving me to face my best friend and apartment mate. Still barely covered, speechless with guilt and shame, I sat there watching her. She wouldn't look at me. "I'm horrible," I'd heard myself say.When she finally turned to me, I could see a touch. I set to getting myself off in earnest, as the sound of her running down the stairs and out the door sounded through the house. I closed my eyes and summoned the memory of her cunt pressed against my face. I became conscious of a sensation that had been growing for several minutes: I needed to piss, badly.This presented a bit of a dilemma. I could keep going, leading to an orgasm muted by the distraction, and followed by an intense, unsatisfiable desire to urinate for several minutes before I'd actually be capable of it. Or I could interrupt my masturbation, piss after a much shorter detumescence interval, then come back and resume. Both were frustrating prospects.After a moment's indecision, I stood and shrugged into a bathrobe, then stood with my hand on the doorknob, waiting for my erection to subside enough for a moderately decent dash down the hall.In the bathroom, I decided to brush my teeth first, to buy my cock another minute to switch roles effectively.As I brushed, I heard.
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