I had just finished dinner with some friends in North Austin and was on my bike heading back home. That's when I felt it. The feeling that I know so well. A tension growing in my groin. It's like my underwear is too tight and I'm straining against it. I shift on my seat, attempting to ease my discomfort. I stand up on the pedals, but the movement of my jeans against my crotch only intensifies my discomfort. My body is telling me that I need relief, and I need it now.
My path home takes me through the Capitol grounds. I stop, thinking that I might be able to quickly head inside and take care of matters. The doors are locked and I don't have my security badge to grant me access. CRAP!!
It's growing. More urgent. It's like a knot in my crotch, begging to be untied. I need the release.
I hop back on my bike, and sprint through downtown. I start to think of quicker routes back to my house. Can I handle this tension for the ride up the massive hill that leads into South Austin? Suddenly, as I'm racing down one street, the answer pops into view. I slam on my brakes, take off my helmet, and lock up my bike. I quickly enter a watering hole frequented by homosexuals. I head to the back of the bar, and it's like my body knows that I will soon be letting go. With every step the tension builds, as if I'll be able to climax in ten seconds flat.
I enter the bathroom, walk up to a urinal, and the sense of relief runs through my body as all those iced teas I consumed at dinner flush out. My knees almost buckle as I exhale deeply. Now I understand why some men sigh loudly as they urinate.
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