After at least finding a shirt to put on over his now much more muscular upper body (which still kind of freaked him out every time he saw it), Paul called one his friends Tina Shepard.
The phone was answered right away. "Hello?" It was Tina's voice, but it sounded scared and unsure, not like usual.
"Tina, it's me, Paul."
"Paul? Is that you? I mean, is it really you?" she asked.
"More or less," he replied.
"What's going on? My entire room changed. I changed."
"I changed too," Paul said. "I think I'm a jock now."
"A jock? Mine's even worse than that. From what I can see ..."
Paul's eyes drifted towards one of the posters. It was of a young blond woman with large breasts, wearing a two-piece string bikini. Before making his call to Tina, he was relieved to see that his penis had gone limp, but now it was beginning to stiffen again.
"Paul?" Tina asked over the phone. "Paul, are you listening to me?"
"Sure, babe," Paul said, not really thinking.
"Did you just call me 'babe'?" she asked, now sounding more worried again.
That knocked Paul out of his momentary lapse of judgment. What was he doing? He looked down and saw a definite bulge in his boxers. He had to control himself better. The first thing to do after his call with Tina was to take down all of those posters. And then burn them.
"I ... I think I did," answered Paul, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"
"I said that I'm dressed like a slut. Tight revealing clothes and all. I can't find anything normal to wear."
At the word "slut", Paul's penis began to stiffen again. He pushed down on it, whispering for it to stop, as if it would help. How was he supposed to live like this?
"Have you called Nadine yet?" Tina asked.
"No, not yet."
"Maybe you should. She's probably going out of her mind as much as I am."
"And me too," Paul added.
