I stare up at my ceiling, listening to the soothing ticking sound of my wall clock. Dinner was good, if a bit awkward. Mum seemed indifferent to Dark until he talked to her that second time, then she just seemed eerily friendly towards him. I wonder what exactly what they were talking about.

I blush and then turn over to face my wall, gripping my blanket around me. I glare at the wall through the gloom. God, did Dark start in with Mum about us being a thing? I huff, bastard, he's been fucking up my school life and now he's going after my home life? Mum isn't helping either, I feel betrayed.

I grit my teeth and wrench my eyes closed. Never mind all this shit, why do I feel so restless? I was doing my best to ignore it all afternoon and evening, and managed to block it out when I was playing Animal Crossing on my DS that I had to beg Mum to get me, but Dark sitting down next to me on the couch just brought it all back again.

I've never felt this way before and I feel like I'm going insane with some kind of need I can't quite place. But what is it? What can I do to make this, this… itch, go away? Agitated, I flip over and bite my pillow, my small claws digging into it as well as I vent on my poor pillow. I chew on it for a while, during which my ears and tail are twitching and swishing uncontrollably. This isn't helping, I need something, and I need to figure out what it is and soon. Or I might just start tearing my stuff up. Mum wouldn't be happy if I did that.

I start to squirm a bit from my discomfort, idly pondering if I should seek Mum's help when my crotch brushes rather hard against my mattress. My eyes widen and my body immediately freezes. What, I couldn't have been something like this this whole time, could it? Slowly, I try it again, deliberately grinding my hips against my mattress. Oh god.

My eyes flutter shut and I unlatch my hands from the pillow, opting to make better use of them. Mum did say that, as I grew older my body would have certain needs, and that until I found a partner I may have to take care of them myself. She then made me watch a video about self-pleasure, and personally ensured I watch the entire damned thing. She tends to go overboard with things, but at least I can be thankful that I have some idea about what I need to do. I just wish she could've explained the intensity better.

I slither my hand down to pajama's and experimentally stroke my member through the fabric. I whimper from the unexpected jolt of need and ghostly pleasure. I bite down on my pillow harder, determined to make as little noise as possible. I f I'm going to do this, I don't want anyone to know. I continue to brush my shy fingers over myself until it's no longer enough and my pants are too tight and wet for continued exploration.

I growl into the fabric and impatiently push at and fumble with my pants and somehow free my need. Once free, I latch my hands on my member and continue my agonizing ministrations. It's still sticky and slick from my previous attentions, which makes it easy to slide my hands up and down my small straining shaft. Oh, this feels so good. I keep making muffled whimpers as my legs start to tremble, whether from all the new sensations or from the strain of supporting myself, I don't know.

My breathing starts turning to gasps as it gets harder to do so, and body starts to clench up. My crotch starts felling painful, like I really need to pee. Shit, should I stop? Did I do something wrong? Before I can stop and think about it for any length of time, a rather loud keen gets ripped from my throat, as I feel liquid splash against my hands.

I finally unclench my jaw from my now drool soaked pillow and pant as my lungs try to catch up. I just let my body flop back down as I ride the waves of euphoria. After awhile, when I am uncomfortable enough, I move my arms out from under me and just drift off.

The next thing I'm aware of is my alarm clock blaring in my ears. I groan and deliriously push my alarm clock off the nightstand, making it clatter to the ground, effectively silencing the damned thing. I then twist further into my blankets and start drifting again when someone knocks rather loudly on the door. I whine and mumble something even I can't make out.

"Daisuke, get up. Breakfast will be ready soon. Besides, your darling friend is already up. Now get up or I'm coming in!"

I whine again but manage to verbalize an agreement as I shove my way, irritatedly from the sweet confines of the bed. I blink for a minuet or two to get my bearings as my surroundings start to focus. The first thing is my alarm clock, which is lying on the ground, intact but unplugged. Well, I'm going to have to reset that later, but not horribly bad right now.

The next thing I look at are my hands, which are weirdly sticky with this white substance. I frown and keep staring at them, trying to figure out what I'm looking at and why it seems wrong, until I notice my pants, which are pulled down just enough to expose my important bits.

My eyes immediately go wide as I feel the blood drain from my face as last night comes slamming its way back into my brain. Before I can do anything else, my door swings open and I'm looking up at my frustrated mother.

"Really Daisuke! Get up this instant or, oh my."

I look at her with tears and intense shame and embarrassment in my eyes as her eyes widen as she takes in my outlandish state. My mouth flaps as I try to explain myself.

"Mum! I-I"

I manage to squeak these words out before she closes the door and walks over and pulls my pants up, while simultaneously standing me on my feet.

"Don't worry dear, just go take a shower. Mummy will take care of the sheets. Seriously, your friend is waiting and breakfast is getting cold."

She shoos me out of my room in the direction of our upstairs bathroom and closes the door behind me again. I blink a few times before rushing towards it, wanting to get the filth off of me. At least I'm not restless anymore.