Stangenfieber

Three school hours had already passed on this Wednesday, which was equivalent to the turning point of my week. What remained until the weekend was always the worst for me. In my classes, I had never been very popular since starting school. There were some loose friendships in my life that didn't really have anything to do with school. During lessons, there was hardly any time to talk anyway, and I wasn't interested in superficial chitchat. Building friendships required a lot more time and above all, you had to earn trust.

This didn't work during the short breaks at school, and accordingly, I got along reasonably well with only some of my classmates. The rest I found unappealing, and I had to deal with an enemy I had repeatedly endured in recent years. His name was Jonas, and he belonged to the type of underhanded bullies at school. In his circle, you could only survive if you ingratiated yourself with everything and everyone. Most of my classmates got along well with him, never gave any backtalk, and found his actions really great.

For me, he was the embodiment of a chatterbox, from whom I wanted to keep as far away as possible under all circumstances. His censures over the years we had known each other weren't very good. Partly, he had to fight hard to achieve the class goal. In contrast, I was one of those among my classmates who coped much better with the schoolwork and above all stored the information in my head. This circumstance was probably another reason why I didn't get along with the class clown Jonas. Knowledge came to me effortlessly because I didn't block my brain with unnecessary nonsense.

For Jonas, however, this was something he loved producing all day long. Among other things against my classmates, against me or our teachers. The only light spot until the end of the week was the prospect of the back of my classmate Inga. The blonde had joined our class from Sweden years ago and liked to wear very tight, mostly too short pants. This gave me a clear view of the thin strings she always wore underneath. Her delicate figure on the classic wooden chairs in our school was quite attractive, even if she didn't exactly fit my preferred prey schema. Only the small pierced hedgehog on her lower back irritated me.

Nevertheless, she was, with some distance, the most beautiful young woman in our class. Besides her, there were only a handful of young students, but all of them, in my eyes, didn't count as a beautiful girlfriend. There was also a Filomena from Italy, who had to have her clothes sewn from a tent. I had never seen a coat in a store that would simply fit her. Jonas once accused her of being very angry at the animal protection organizations of this world because they hadn't dragged the whale back into the sea. I wouldn't have expressed it so drastically to her, but I still found her way too fat.

The other young women were also not exactly an eye candy. For this reason, I usually kept away from the girls at school. They all didn't really fit me, and I couldn't find anything particularly special about them. At least that connected Jonas with me. He also never had real eyes for the girls at our school. Like me, he probably looked outside the educational institution for a girlfriend. Unfortunately, this wasn't really successful. The young women of our age weren't as impressive as before anymore. In times of social media and according to some completely confused ladies in their twenties, they all wanted a multiple millionaire who would shower them with expensive gifts.

Of course, that was above all so that they could splash some cosmetics into their face to at least look decent. They obviously didn't want anything to do with normal work. They all dreamed of sitting at home in front of a camera, playing some games on the computer, and then earning money via these transmissions online. They considered themselves something special, but were only barely more than average prostitutes who would never willingly lie on their backs. Most of the boys in our school didn't care anyway. They knew nothing else and wanted to get their little cock plugged into these sluts.

That just gave me a cold shiver down my back. After this last school year and the graduation, I had no more dealings with them. While they all celebrated an nonsense university study, half of them in business administration, and the other half in gender studies, I was looking forward to studying computer science. Only the few chose this as their field of study, making my choice much easier. I had actually thought about a mechanical engineering degree, but had to change my mind, whereupon I decided on working with computers. They were becoming increasingly important in the world and would also mean a secure income in the future.

The last three school hours on that day were actually unimportant. One of them we had to deal with an extinct language, which you couldn't even use to order a pizza today, and the last two hours on this Wednesday were entirely dedicated to art. This art consisted solely of painting some color splatters onto a canvas and listening to the wild explanations of our teacher. For her, a hastily drawn triangle in four colors was already almost a Gauguin. She saw much more in it than just a few haphazardly thrown colors. Modern art had absolutely nothing to do with a high-quality image.

Accordingly, those were actually only three wasted school hours in which I could no longer learn anything. Latin interested nobody anymore, unless you wanted to study biology or maybe even medicine. With computers, only numbers and logic played a role. The kids didn't understand Latin. Their language was a binary number code that functioned with simple mathematical logic. However, these three hours were also the turning point of my week. Exactly in the art room stood this Jonas right next to me and Inga looked at me.

But even worse was exactly the idiot next to me during the last two hours. At least after the one hour of Latin we had a somewhat longer break. There you could at least do a bit more than just go to the toilet. Interesting were only the breaks we used to supplement our bodies with nicotine. There were also some shorter, very beloved conversations. The best thing about it was the absence of Jonas. He didn't smoke and kept himself even happily far away. He found the smell of our cigarettes simply utterly disgusting and spent this time mostly on the other side of the school building.

During the Latin class I contented myself with the free view of the buttocks of my female classmate Inga, framed by a white string. Jonas in the back of the classroom had naturally nothing else to do than drive our classmate to despair. Continuously he asked totally annoying questions and didn't even shut his mouth when she wanted to write something on the blackboard. This ruined me the most time of the wonderful view. Of course, our Latin teacher noticed if I was staring at Inga's buttocks, which made it necessary to do it more secretly.

That turned out to be a failure, because my special friend kept his mouth open constantly. Every time our teacher turned around, which forced me to direct my gaze to the opened schoolbook in front of me. What was written there didn't even come close to my mind. Who interested me already any letters if less than a meter away the view on well-shaped buttocks could fall? That was what interested me during the class. Exactly our Latin teacher found an incredible fun in filling the blackboard with trash, which gave me a lot of free time. Only not when she constantly had to scold Jonas.

At the end of the lesson I left the classroom with my cigarettes and the angry look of our teacher accompanied me outside. Of course, she noticed where my eyes spent most of the time. I could assume that she told Inga in a quiet minute and she was obviously anything but happy about it. But if she wanted to avoid it, she had to wear other things. You couldn't seriously expect pubescent young men to voluntarily look away from such an ass. Especially not when it was presented so perfectly to them.

We were all no connoisseurs and already had a hard-on in our pants if the math teacher drew a semicircle on the blackboard. It annoyed me simply in these years, and we boys were repeatedly condemned because of this development, even though we had absolutely no chance against nature. Especially in summer it was pure torture. The higher the thermometer rose, the shorter and more airy the clothes of the female students became. Sometimes you walked around all day with an erection through the area and then got reprimanded for it. We had successfully convinced the teachers and students that men were especially mature men, the devil.

During the smoking break I tried to forget this accusation and participated in a conversation about a social network on the internet. It had been set up anew and was advertising to find every person there. That was obviously complete nonsense. There were eight billion people living all over the world and a third of them were already happy if they could see daylight in their tin huts. Electricity, internet, and such inventions as mobile phones didn't even know them and therefore couldn't be found on the social network.

Technically it wasn't possible at all, but some guys believed the nonsense. It was stated in the advertisement and therefore had to be true. That more lies were told than a politician in his whole life, most people didn't believe. Making this clear to the gullible types in the smoking corner could be called a life task. It was really interesting that such nitwits were actually able to properly sit on a toilet. I compared them quite happily with simple sea creatures. They also survived, some years without brain or intelligence.

Actually, I hadn't expected to meet such intelligent allergics at a gymnasium. However, they were the best proof that even highly intelligent people could be completely stupid. At least it made me forget the angry look of our Latin teacher and the nicotine level was back up again. So prepared, I set off towards my classroom to carry my bag into the art room to get the last two school hours over with. What surprised me were my classmates, who were still sitting in their seats comedically.

When I wanted to pack my bag, Inga turned around smiling and said, "Dominik, art class is canceled today. The paint teacher had an accident in the coin laundry and doesn't feel up to lecturing us for two hours about her crap. Instead, we should stay here and use the last two hours to do our homework."

"Doing homework for two hours?" I asked. "That means I'll sit here for about one and a half hours for nothing."

She laughed at me with her snow-white teeth, looked over her shoulder at her ass, and said, "At least no one will bother you when you stare at my ass."

That was certainly true, but it also proved two things. Obviously, our Latin slut couldn't keep her damn mouth shut, but Inga didn't mind if I looked closely. So I hadn't assessed her that way, but the thought of avoiding the splattering with brushes and the bad company of Jonas made me indifferent. Everything was better than the two hours of art and Inga's permission made it even more pleasant. No one could take that from me anymore, and in addition, I would have plenty of time left to smoke a few cigarettes.

But why should I do homework during those two hours at all. That was actually pointless. The half hour I needed for it I could also invest the next day during lunch break. Afternoons there were three more hours for us, and I basically spent the lunch break after the sixth hour in the school cafeteria. The break wasn't long enough to go home, eat something, and then go back to school. The bus needed the whole break to make a round trip. So I would spend the entire break on the bus. Therefore, I stayed at school, sat down in the cafeteria, and just passed the time.

Already shortly after the lesson had begun, my archenemy Jonas left the classroom and slammed the door behind him. Like everyone else, I thought he was only going to the toilet and would come back in a few minutes later. However, he remained missing longer than twenty minutes. I looked around once more in the classroom. Maybe I hadn't seen that he had taken his schoolbag with him and already left the school. But that wasn't the case. His bag still lay untouched next to his desk and all the pens were also still there. He seemed to have found another occupation for the two hours.

With a last look, I said goodbye to Inga's buttocks and left the classroom as well with my cigarettes. It was quite quiet in the building, and I walked down to the door. Only the janitor registered my way across the schoolyard, who was just emptying the trash bins after the big break. I stood at my usual place and calmly smoked a cigarette. Such school hours I could really use more often. Nobody there wanted to explain any nonsense or shove useless knowledge into our heads. Just complete silence without hustle or other tasks.

I watched leisurely the way of the janitor as he routinely emptied each content of the individual trash bins into a large bag and dragged it across the floor to the residual waste bin. There he stored the whole bag, took off his gloves, and set out again for his next task. From the tilted window of the teacher's room, the usual steam with the smell of coffee and cigarette smoke wafted into the sky, and only from the upper windows did some sound volume from the class reach me below. I extinguished the smoked cigarette in the ashtray and set off on my way back to the school building.

In the entrance area I slowed down my steps and instead of taking the wide staircase, I took the corridor. Why shouldn't I combine my smoking break with a visit to the toilet? I had plenty of time and Inga's ass wouldn't run away from me. Besides, the toilet on the ground floor of the school was almost never occupied. All the classrooms were on the first floor and in the entrance area there were actually only the teacher's room and some storage rooms for cards or other teaching materials. Almost no one passed by here all day long. Even the janitor had his own quiet place in the basement of the school.