Sep 3, 2006
It had been nearly thirteen days since my roommate had requested my absence in the name of self-induced ejaculation. Needless to say, I was rather concerned. Cliff wasn’t your average stroker; in fact, this was probably the only area in which Cliff was actually above average. I had been spanxiled so often that I grew accustomed to the sounds of his free hand relentlessly clicking the mouse and his knee vibrating the desk drawer in which his keyboard lay.
As the two week mark approached, I was feeling rather uneasy about Cliff’s new found abstinence. I needed to reassure myself that Cliff’s built up sexual tension wasn’t going to erupt into this burly bastard flipping out and strangling my neck with the ferocity that only his penis truly understands. The possibility frightened me so much that I decided to conduct a voyeuristic study using the spyware I made in Comp-Sci, and the purse-cam my girlfriend uses to blackmail the professors she’s sleeping with.
“Maybe Cliff just changed his schedule” I thought, “perhaps he’s only rubbing it out when I’m in Comp-Sci lab or waiting for my turn to sleep with Amanda.” But to my surprise, his internet browser hadn’t visited anything owned and operated by ‘Naughty America’ since I implemented the cookie. In fact, the only website he visited on a healthy basis was TheFacebook.com. I assumed he must be jerking off to every girl who belonged to the “I kissed a girl” interest group; sadly, the video tape proved my theory wrong.
When the hell was Cliff relieving stress? I nearly shed a tear as I considered the possibility of never hearing “get out of the room, faggot” ever again. So, I decided to work up the courage to confront my roommate and ask him when he’s taking care of business.
It was a Wednesday night and Cliff was about to come home from the Japanimation club at any moment. He entered the room, placed his book-bag on the bed and I opened my mouth. But before I got to say anything I noticed that he had a stain on bottom of his pants. In fact, he had a few stains on the bottom of his pants. These weren’t normal stains; these were the undeniable, dense stains that only seamen can leave behind.
That’s when it hit me. Japanimation club! This wasn’t a nightly roundtable meeting in appreciation of Asian cartoons, but rather a massive circle jerk inspired by the freeze framed image of the small mouthed, large breasted, round eyed Asian goddesses that inhabit these animations! I nearly cried with joy.
I stormed out of my room and ran to my girlfriend’s dorm. “I figured it out!” I shouted, “I know what he jerks off to.” She started to blush as if I caught her doing something wrong. She then responded, “Well, you’re half right.”
Apparently my oriental slut bag of a girlfriend had been posing nude for these wannabe animators for the past two weeks. “It’s not exactly as circle jerk. The hand job is just a bonus I give to the best artist, and Cliff is actually a very talented artist,” she added, “If you would have just fast forwarded that video tape you would have found out for yourself.”
Well, at least I know Cliff isn’t going attack me in my sleep.
I gotta start dating some normal fucking girls.
