It was guttural. I think it shook my laptop. I have never seen the Zoom window light up faster. At first I thought I imagined it. My professor kept professing, and no one seemed to notice. Then it happened again and this time, it was sensual. I start thinking to myself, how does one be bold enough to jack off in a class? To type in p-o-r-n-h-u-b.c-o-m (because he’s definitely not alpha enough for Bellesa) in his incognito window while Zoom loomed in the corner? We have six minutes left of class, I just don’t get it. You could’ve made it. I believe in you. What turned you on, bud? I wonder what he’s watching. Based on his past answers in class, something dry and repetitive.
How did you unmute? Riddle me this. Why couldn’t you just keep your nut to yourself? Maybe you’re a sadist, seeking the sexual thrill of being caught. Please don’t tell me you have a humiliation kink. Look, I get it. I too am a slut. Flicking the bean to Florence and the Machine since I was 13. I’ve hooked up with someone in a church, but to polish the banister in these hallowed halls of virtual education is unholy. I think I’m losing it, absolutely losing it. We are in class. We’re getting entirely TOO comfortable. Is this...am I in the ‘Truman Show’? John Quiñones, where are you?! I’m about to leave. Society is crumbling at this very moment because of him. We have two minutes left of class? God is dead, and I’m leaving.
