Date: Fri, 11 Mar 2005 12:42:54 -0600 From: H. Rick Cantwell Subject: Rascal 16 Rascal Part Sixteen Vice Principals and Vice Principles (M/M, Oral, Anal, Incest) This is a continuing story. Constructive criticism is welcome at zestful@myexcel.com. Please mention the title in the Subject line or I might delete it by accident, thinking it's spam. Hearing from you and NEW readers will help keep alive the desire to continue this tale. --Dick Hickey. If you're not old enough to read stories involving graphic descriptions of sex between consenting males, or if such stories are illegal where you live, do not continue reading beyond this sentence. Rascal Part Sixteen Vice Principals and Vice Principles During the next couple of days following Ryan's flashing of Jamie at Discount Drugs and Taylor's accident at the mall, I was so engrossed by how well-planned Ryan's marketing strategy for the cookie sale to buy new band uniforms for the school was that I forgot how conniving he can be. Even during the sleepover at Ryan's the night before the day of the sale, I forgot that he said it would also be Crossover Day. That is, until I woke up and Ryan was dressed in a girl's cheerleading outfit. It was a tube-top into which he'd stuffed some kind of "breasts" and the top left his belly exposed. He was also wearing a short, pleated blue and gold skirt. I found out later that Juanita, Jeremy's girlfriend, had poured birdseed in some nylon stockings to create "supple breasts" for Ryan. He wasn't wearing makeup or a wig but with his natural good looks, he could pass for a girl--even with short hair. Low-rise sneakers and ankle socks completed the outfit. "No way!" I said. "This was not a part of the deal." "Oh, come on, Uncle Dickey. You really don't think I'd try to set you up, do you? I'm hurt," he said with a pout. He handed me a neatly folded white turtleneck sweater and some gold-colored pants. "Jeremy and I 'crossed over' to be cheerleaders but you can be our male cheerleader." "Oh. Well, that's more like it," I said with relief. "Juanita's gonna wear a football uniform--pads and all." "That ought to be quite a sight." "C'mon, get dressed, I'll go fix us some cereal." It was a good thing Lyle and Amanda, Ryan's folks, had already left for work because the "outfit" was too small. Just for grins and giggles, I walked downstairs to show Ryan. The sweater was so tight my nipples, even though they weren't hard, poked out the clingy T-shirt type material. The stretch pants were so tight I could almost distinguish the wrinkles in my ball sack so, as you can imagine, my cock ridge, even when it was soft, was obscenely obvious. "Perfect!" Ryan shouted with glee when he saw me. "You KNOW I'm not wearing this," I said. "You KNOW you haven't paid your forfeit from the first time I stayed at your place and you reneged on a promise." "Ryan! This in NOT gonna happen. The principal will throw me out--or worse, have me arrested." "You're gonna be sitting behind a table. What's to see? They'll never know." "I said, 'no'," I stated sternly. Ryan began to pout. "You take all the fun out of surprises." "This is not fun. This is humiliation. We've had this discussion before--about your dad being whistled at by construction workers, remember?" "Not about THAT!" Ryan said. "I wasn't gonna tell you. It was gonna be a surprise but you leave me no choice." "What?" "Dad got all your prison records ... uh ... purged." "He what?" "It's like you were never in prison. Never in court, even." "So what's that got to do with this ridiculous outfit?" I asked, waving one hand down the front of me as if I had to draw attention to how revealing it was. "I don't think Dad would like it if you started treating me different, now that he's made your past go away." "Ryan ... that's ..." "You told him you'd do ANYthing for me." "Ryan ..." I said, losing a little of my resolve. "It's not like I'm asking you to kiss my ass on the capitol lawn," Ryan said. "It's just that Jeremy's family can't afford the class trip and I wanted to help. It's not bad enough that he has to live with foster parents, you want him to miss out on the class trip, too?" "And you think ME dressed like THIS will help you make sales?" I asked dubiously. "Hell yeah! You look awesome. And if a couple of the teachers see how hot you are, maybe they'll buy some, too." "I thought you said I'd be sitting behind a table the whole time." "Oh, yeah. I forgot," Ryan said, placing a bowlful of cereal for each of us on the table. Rolling my eyes, I thought, 'I've done worse things in my life. At least he's not asking me to get naked.' "Wait," I said thoughtfully, "I'm not gonna have to get naked, am I?" "No." Ryan said. Then, seeing my look of skepticism he said, "Honest! Cross my heart." "Okay, I'll do it. But not because of what your father did. I owe HIM for that, not you. And don't you forget it." After breakfast, I drove Ryan to school early. I wore one of Lyle's raincoats over the outfit while Ryan and I set up the table and brought out six cases of cookies. Mr. Turner, the principal, brought around a cash box with enough "seed money" to make change and some bags and a felt tip marker. After Ryan introduced us, Mr. Turner had Ryan count the money and sign for it. "Some of the students will want to leave their purchases here until after classes are over or they can get to their lockers. Just put them in a sack and have them write their names on the bags." "I think I can handle that," I said. "Can I put that coat in the teachers' lounge for you?" Mr. Turner asked. Ryan said, "He gets cold easy." All three of us said, "Easily," and laughed at ourselves. I was glad Ryan didn't yell, "Jinks!" and try to grip pinkie fingers. Just before Ryan left to report to homeroom, he said, "Oh, this is Senior Appreciation Day, too." "What?" I asked in astonishment at yet another surprise revelation. "The parents of the senior students will be coming and going all day. Some will sit in on a class or two; others will only be here for the awards ceremony." "Oh," I said, thinking about my outfit as I hung the coat over the back of the chair. 'Just in case,' I thought. "See ya, Uncle Dickey," Ryan shouted as he all but skipped away, making his skirt flounce. He turned to walk backwards long enough to hold up the ring and pinkie fingers of his right hand and then bring the fist, created by the other two fingers and thumb, to his heart. That was our sign for "Daddy Two, I love you." During first period, a few people passed by disinterestedly. One really nice looking guy in a suit passed by and I fantasized about him. His suit fit so perfectly, he could have been a Versace model. When he came back the other way a few minutes later I said, "Buying from THIS team will help send a kid, who can't afford it, on the class trip." "Really?" "Honest. My ... nephew's working with him on this project, hoping the guy won't feel ... like a charity case." "Who is it?" "I wouldn't want to embarrass him, but Rascal--that's my nephew-- has assured me the kid could use the help." "Very admirable of him--and of you for not revealing his secret of poverty. Got any Double Nut Fudge Crunch?" I looked over what was on the table and didn't see any. Looking under the table, I saw a case with a couple of boxes in it but stopped just as I started to reach for it. "I know I've got some here, somewhere." I stood and quickly turned to bend over a case I had behind the chair, giving "Mr. Suit" a great view of my ass. I felt the material that was lodged in my ass crack slowly spread out of that trench as I leaned over. "Oh, yeah. I've got what you need right here." I casually held a box in each hand and framed my basket as I said, "Is this what you're lookin' for?" Wide-eyed and almost salivating, 'Mr. Suit' said, "That reminds me, got any creme-filled? My wife likes creme-filled." "Just the ones in your hand." Mr. Suit looked down at the box in his hand. "Oh ... great ... since there's no choice, I won't have to guess which one she'll want." I set the Fudge Nut cookies on the table, made a nonchalant attempt at repositioning the crowd in my crotch and sat down. "If you're going somewhere, other than to your car, I can put those in a bag for you and hold 'em until you get back. Of course, you'd have to pay for them first." "Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll pay," Mr. Suit said, flustered. "That would be nice. To hold 'em, I mean." Since he was still staring at my crotch, as he pulled out his wallet, I smiled and said, "We're talking about the cookies, right?" Mr. Suit blushed. "Got change for a twenty?" "No problem. Uh, could I get a name and phone number?" I asked, reaching for a bag and a felt tip marker. "Phone number?" "In case you get distracted and leave before you pick 'em up." "Yes, of course. I don't know where my head is today." 'I know where I'd LIKE your head to be,' I thought but instead I said, "I'm sure it'll clear up after you've had something to eat." "Eat?" he said as he wrote his name and number on the bag. "After lunch." Out of habit, he looked at his watch and said, "Oh yeah." After he left, I worried he might tell the school authorities about how I was dressed but I hoped the suggestive comments made during our conversation would be enough to deter him. To distract my attention away from my paranoia, I arranged some of the boxes in E and H patterns on the tabletop to represent Eastern High. The halls got busy between first and second period and calmed down again but I didn't make any sales. I noticed while they were changing classes that the Crossover outfits weren't always gender specific. There were some girls dressed in mens' business suits and football players dressed in plus-sized womens' pant suits. The more creative ones were those crossing over in the business world. One girl dressed like an auto mechanic. The uniform was fully functional for the grease pit but was distinctively more feminine. It had a pocket designed to hold a travel-sized can of hair spray, and others the size of a lipstick tube, a tampon and a mace dispenser. 'No need for a purse!' I thought. During the second period lull, an elderly woman in a pink swirl housedress stopped by to look over the display. When she saw the tight gold pants, her jaw dropped and I got the distinct impression it was not out of appreciation. I figured I'd need to say something to diffuse a potentially bad situation before it got out of hand. "Crossover day. Go figure. Too bad my boy couldn't find a suit in my size but at least I didn't have to wear a dress. How silly do you think I'd look as a woman?" Her expression softened as she looked over my features. "You'd make a good-looking woman. You have more delicate features than most men." Then she got a quizzical look of her face. "You mentioned Crossover Day. Does this mean your son is dressed ... uh ..." "As a cheerleader. Thus the male cheerleader outfit I'm wearing." "Oh! How adorable. I used to be a cheerleader. If he looks anything like you, I'm sure he's adorable." "Not because he's mine, but yeah, he is." "I hope I see him later." "Can I interest you in some cookies? It'll help a less fortunate kid get to go on his class trip." "I wish I could. All I've got is my social security and it doesn't go as far as it used to." "I understand," I said, "My dad's in the same boat." "'Bye, now," she said as she shuffled away. The bell rang to switch classes and shortly after the last bell, a girl wearing a football "practice" uniform swaggered up, trying to simulate a football player's gait. "Hi, Mr. Hickey, I'm Juanita. We had to show up for study hall before they'd release us. Ryan said I should relieve you so you can go to the little boys' room." "Uh ... thanks." From where I was sitting, I could--by looking underneath the half-length jersey--see the bottom half of her bare breasts. I asked for directions to the bathroom before I got up and left. When I got back, I noticed the football jersey had gotten a little more revealing, like she'd loosened the shoulder pads or something. "Are you gonna get in trouble showing that much cleavage? This isn't a skins game, you know." "I'm gonna be standing so, for the most part, only the seniors will see." "I've seen the bottom, too," I said, like she was trying to pull the wool over my eyes. "The sophomores deserve a treat, too, if they're willing to buy some cookies." "And the parents here for Senior Appreciation Day?" "Once the word gets out," Juanita said, hefting her ample bosom up with her right forearm, "the students will shield me from them. Besides, you're supposed to distract the troublemakers." "I'm what!" "You. That," she said with a nod of her head toward my crotch. "Not much will happen until after lunch. Then the study halls after lunch will get busier, too." "Elaborate." "As soon as we're done with lunch, ten minutes--tops, Ryan, Jeremy and I will come out to help you staff the table. Word will get around about who is dressed how, which tables are offering what incentives and things will liven up. Basically, the students who have study hall after the lunch period will buy their stuff then, leaving the lunch period open for those who can't get out of class after lunch." "Oh," I said, getting a vague idea that this was the way it had been done in previous years. "Ryan was right. You ARE hung for days." "Tell me the truth," I said, looking over my shoulders in both directions, "does this outfit make my butt look big?" I turned and struck a pose. "Absolutely NOT! It's your second best asset. Third," she said, looking at my face again. "You're just a little charmer, aren't you?" "Jeremy calls me his seductress." "He has good reason." To change the subject, somewhat, I asked, "Have you two been dating long?" "Since the middle of last year." "So I'd guess you see a lot of each other." "We've both seen everything--of each others. We're not into keeping secrets from each other." "That's nice to hear. I don't like people who keep secrets." "I think that's why Jeremy likes Ryan so much. I don't mean in Ryan's way. He knows Ryan's gay but he likes him because ... more than being gay, he's honest." "To a fault," I said. "In the good way." "I know what you mean. Ryan was even honest with ME. I was jealous when Jeremy said he was gonna hang with Ryan--especially after he told me Ryan confessed to being gay. But after Jeremy introduced me to him, I just fell in love with him. Ryan told me straight up that he'd go to bed with Jeremy if he had a chance but not as long as Jeremy was in a relationship. I think he said something about ... if I put it in writing that it was okay with me, then he'd think about doing it. Then he said the strangest thing." "What was that?" I asked, fearing the worst. "He said ... uh ... never at school and even I'd never know about it." "I think what he meant was no one at school would ever find out, not even you. It's Ryan's way of saying he'd protect Jeremy's good name. But more than that, Ryan was saying he has enough freedom of choice that he doesn't need to steal someone else's boyfriend." "I guess that's what I'm saying. The three of us could be naked in the same bed and I know Jeremy would be safe." "Exactly." "Of course, so would I," she said, a little miffed. "Don't get me wrong. Jeremy's a great kisser and he loves to snuggle and cuddle. It's just ... he doesn't, like ... touch me. Do you know he's never once touched my breasts?" "Such a gentleman!" I said in a mock Yiddish accent to lighten the mood. "Well, a girl likes to know she's ... desirable. I thought when he started hanging with Ryan he'd get a little bolder but, so far, he hasn't. I've tried to encourage him by ... you know ... trying to feel HIM up--Jeremy, not Ryan--but he won't even let me caress that beautiful chest of his--much less anything further down. What I wouldn't give to cup that awesome, honeydew melon ass of his." The bells rang and Juanita said, "The first lunch period is going to start. We all brought our lunches today, so I'll be back in ten minutes with the other two. By the way, Jeremy looks stupid in HIS outfit, so don't say anything but Ryan is a cutie." She left so quickly, I didn't have a chance to tell her Ryan didn't pack a lunch. A couple of minutes later, Ryan came bounding up with two paper sacks. "Jeremy's contribution. He apologizes for the cheese. It's government issue." "I've eaten worse." "In prison?" Ryan whispered, walking behind the table to stand. "In the woods, at the lake, Memorial Day weekend." "Smegma. Ummm," Ryan said, rubbing his belly. "Right." "Jeremy and I are gonna do a cheer. You think you could lift him up on your shoulder when we're done?" "How big is he?" "I'd guess, eight inches ... easy." "Ryan!" "Five-eight, five-nine, a buck seventy?" "Yikes!" "He's slender. It's all muscle." I looked up to see the school had twelve-foot ceilings. "I'll try," I said, as I saw a handsome young man wearing a cheerleading outfit similar to Ryan's. Where Ryan's was gold with blue lining, Jeremy's--I presumed because he was walking with Juanita--was blue with gold lining. At that moment, I wondered if the outfits were reversible or designed only to be worn in contrast. "Hi, Mr. H., I'm Jeremy. Thanks for helping out. My folks ... well, they couldn't get off work." He looked embarrassed about his revelation. "Same with Ryan's folks," I said, hoping to make him feel better. Shaking his outstretched hand, I said, "I'm just glad I could help." Juanita adjusted the shoulder pads to reveal more bosom, pulled the padded football trousers lower on her hips to reveal her navel and said, "Shall we get started?" Jeremy asked reluctantly, "Are you sure this is gonna work, Ryan?" "We'll never know unless we try." "Okay, Juanita, start the routine I taught you," Jeremy said. Juanita began what looked, at first, like a dance routine but soon turned into a football workout routine. She started stomping each foot alternately like she was running through the tire maze--which caused her breasts to jiggle seductively. That brought over several of the younger boys. Then she started doing the crossover leg routine, running sideways about ten feet and back again. Because it involved crossing one leg over the front and alternating that with crossing the leg behind the other leg, it created a minor sensation in the halls. That got the attention of several of the older boys. To end the routine, she bent into a scrimmage stance with her right fist on the floor, causing her tits to just about fall out of the loose neck of Jeremy's jersey. About then, Ryan pulled me out from behind the table to stand between Jeremy and him. While thirty or forty boys crowded around, successfully blocking the view of any faculty that might pass by, Jeremy and Ryan began performing a combination choreographed-dance and cheerleading-chant routine. Juanita stood up and raised her hands high in the air like she had just scored a touchdown. The crowd was considerably larger because the cheerleaders had started chanting and shouting school slogans. Once the crowd was energized, no doubt from the sight of her bare mounds visible beneath the jersey, she came to stand next to me. "As soon as this chant ends, step behind Jeremy, grab his right thigh and lift him up till his butt is at shoulder height. He'll push off the floor with his left foot so it shouldn't be too difficult to lift him. Then, he'll lower his butt down till it's resting on your right shoulder. He will be in a high kick so his left leg will be out of the way. Oh yeah, crouch a little so he can rest his right foot on your right thigh. It'll help stabilize the position." "Yeah, I've seen a similar routine," I said. "It's pretty standard." "You try and catch him if he starts to fall." "I'll be holding Ryan," Juanita said. "You'll what!" "He doesn't weigh as much as Jeremy so I can support his weight. Get ready, get set ... GO!" I bent, grabbed Jeremy's thigh and lifted. When I looked up to see if he was high enough to sit on my shoulder, I saw he wasn't wearing any underpants. A quick glance in Ryan's direction proved he wasn't either. I noticed, in the instant I had to observe him, that Ryan's cock, in contrast to the dark blue lining of HIS skirt would be more visible than Jeremy's was against the gold of HIS skirt. I felt Jeremy bring his left leg down from his high kick into a bent-knee stance, distributing his weight a little more evenly. "I want you to bend at the knees so I can put both feet on your thighs," Jeremy said, "and then I'll do a tumble off your legs." I found my center of gravity and bent my knees. When his left foot made contact with my left thigh, close to the knee, I put my palm in front of his left thigh to steady him. Once he was ready, he slipped his bare butt off my shoulder and I steadied his right thigh the same way. Looking over at Ryan, I saw he was in the same position and was in the process of spreading his arms out into a flying cross. Moments later, Jeremy did the same. I felt Jeremy's toes dig into my kneecaps just before he leapt into the air, did a forward flip and performed a rolling tumble into the crowd. Ryan followed the move moments later. The crowd apparently knew enough to make a path and parted like the Red Sea as the two acrobats rolled along, skirts, dicks and balls flying in the breeze. The two boys jumped up, arms high in the V for Victory sign and the crowd exploded in applause, whistles and catcalls. After we got back behind the table, sales were fast and frantic. Although I couldn't keep close tabs, it appeared that just as many GUYS bought from Jeremy and Ryan as they did Juanita. Once the first wave of sales quieted down, Ryan suggested they do the routine one more time before the lunch period ended. Looking over at me with an impish grin, he asked, "Can you get it up one more time?" Juanita and Jeremy smiled at me. I think it was the first time Jeremy had a chance to look at my crotch. His eyes widened, he visibly but silently gulped but he didn't say anything. Juanita said, "I'd like to see it up." "Up what?" Ryan asked scampishly. "Have you guys got TIME for another routine?" I asked trying to change the subject. "Hit it, Juanita." Another crowd gathered and, again, they got a good view of Juanita's tits and a quick glimpse or two of Jeremy's and Ryan's dicks, balls and asses. After the tumble and roll, we sold more cookies than the previous surge. "See, I told you word would get around," Ryan said to Jeremy. Then, turning to me he said, "So we might be busy next period, but I'll be here to help." "Not for long," I said. "Why?" Ryan asked, confused. "This is our last case. We have less than two dozen boxes left." Looking around in disbelief, he screamed and then jumped high in the air, once again placing his privates on display. Several people looked--and admired what they saw--and then began buying. "Uncle Dickey! You're gonna have to go to the principal's office." "Why me?" I whispered. "I'm not the one running around half naked." "You just answered your own question." "I can't go looking like this!" I argued. "But we need more cookies," Ryan whined. "This table's hot." "Grandma! What are you doing here!" Jeremy shouted in despair. "Hi sweetheart. Your mom said you were doin' crossover today. Step out from behind there and let me look at you." "Grandma," Jason whined. "And this must be YOUR boy," Jeremy's grandmother said to me. I recognized her as the elderly lady in the pink swirl housedress who stopped by earlier. "Yes, ma'am," I said politely. "This is Ryan." Like a gentleman, Ryan leaned over the table to shake her hand. "Why don't you two do your routine for your grandmother," I said. "She used to be a cheerleader, you know. Maybe she can give you some pointers." Ryan shot me a look of disbelief that I'd even suggested it. Jeremy looked at me in fear. Juanita chuckled as she adjusted her jersey to cover herself a little more discretely. The bells rang to warn students to begin heading to their next class. "You're gonna get it," Ryan whispered threateningly. "Your place or mine," I asked with a smirk. "Not knowing the rules are a bitch, ain't they?" I swatted his ass, making sure I caught flesh instead of skirt material and said, "Get to class." "Yeah, we gotta show up before they'll dismiss us but I'll be right back. This is my study hall period." When he got back, he was surprised to see six more cases of cookies. "How'd you do that?" "Jeremy's grandma offered to go to the principal's office and tell him I needed more. She said he was ecstatic to hear our sales were going so well. Some student aid brought 'em down." "You're the best, Daddy Two," Ryan said. "I thought you said I was gonna get it." Ryan flipped the back of his skirt up and said, "As soon as we get home." "I can't wait," I said, grabbing his waist and pulling him into my lap playfully. Ryan squirmed in a half-hearted attempt to escape. It only succeeded in giving me a hard-on. "Hi, Ryan," a soft-spoken slender young man said as he all but floated up to the table. He, too, was dressed like a girl but looked more like a hooker in his rust-red shoulder-length wig and candy-apple red lipstick. "I told you I'd buy cookies from you. I'm here to ... uh ..." His eyes darted in my direction and back to Ryan. "... keep my promise." The way he said it, I got the impression Ryan had made a promise, too. "Great, Alex. Can you stick around? I'd like a little bigger crowd before I do my routine. Uncle Dickey needs the excitement of the crowd to energize him." "I need what?" I asked, insulted. "Uncle Dickey, this is ... Alexandra. Alexandra, this is my Uncle Dickey." I extended my hand. "A gentleman usually rises when he's introduced to a lady," Ryan scolded. Glancing down into my lap, I said, "Ryan." "It's okay. There won't be any suits in the halls during classes." I stood to shake Alex's hand--again--like a proper gentleman. "Nice to meet you ... young lady." 'I'll play along for Ryan's sake.' I thought. 'Besides, this guy would make a good-looking cross dresser if he used the right makeup. By starting this young, he might be an accomplished female impersonator by the time he's old enough to get into bars.' Alex was staring at my hard-on with an expression somewhere between fear and lust as it pointed skyward under the glint of the gold uniform tights. "Sometimes I have to plug him in to energize him," Ryan said. "Those are the best times." His lewd comment seemed to break Alex's concentration and she looked away but she didn't blush. "Uh, yeah. From what I've heard, your routine is worth waiting for. I even told a couple other guys. They should be here any minute." Within a couple of minutes, a fair-sized crowd had gathered. Straining to see the table at the other end of the long hall, I noticed only a handful of people gathered down there. I felt a little sorry for them. "Ready?" Ryan asked, dragging me out from behind the table by my elbow. I stood facing the crowd. "Give me some room," Ryan said before he began the little dance Juanita had performed earlier. Even without the benefit of her football uniform and her flopping tits, Ryan fired up the crowd. When he began the cheerleading chant, the whole crowd cheered along in all the right places. I noticed Ryan's routine, this time, was choreographed slightly different and he did a dozen high kicks that he and Jeremy DIDN'T do for the lunch crowd. Reaction from the crowd ranged from surprise and shock, beyond jealousy for Ryan's endowment, to admiration for his gutsy--ballsy?-- sales technique. Once the routine was finished, I lifted him like I had Jeremy and he performed his follow-through tumbling routine--balls and all. Sales were brisk, but Alex stayed nearby. After the crowd left, Ryan sat on the table, knees spread and allowed Alex to slip his hand up the skirt. "Jesus, Ryan. You weren't kidding! Oh man, I've gotta run ... to spread the word ... not, you know." After another small group arrived and Ryan did a few high kicks, we sold several more boxes. We were down to less than three cases by the end of the period. "Mr. Supelveda, can I talk to you for a minute?" Ryan called out as a man in a suit walked by. After the bewildered crowd made room for him to get through, I recognized him as the Versace model who had bought cookies and left them to pick up later. "Hi, Mr. Supelveda," and "Hey, Mr. S." rumbled through the crowd as he worked his way to the table. I cupped my hands in front of my crotch like ... 'an errant school-boy,' I thought. "What's up?" Mr. Supelveda asked Ryan. "We're almost out of cookies. Is there a table that's not doing too good ... well? Maybe we could buy their cookies at a discount and sell 'em at our table next period. That way, they'll get some money, too. Not as much ... but some." I was proud that Ryan wanted to help his fellow students. It meant the people working the other tables would have less money to raise to send their chosen student on the class trip. "I can ask," Mr. S. said, "but they might want to hold out for the high dollar." "Either way, we'll need more cookies." "I hope," I said dubiously. Then I explained, "We might have already sold all we're gonna sell." "We still have one more period. You know, Jeremy's jock friends and cock hounds." "Young man," I said sternly as "oohs" an "aahs" rumbled quietly through the crowd. "I meant jock hounds, Mr. S. Honest. It was, uh ... a Freudian slip. But you gotta admit, that's what the girls really want. It ain't ... isn't ... his brains and good looks." "Consider yourself warned," Mr. S. said threateningly. As he turned in my direction before leaving, I saw him trying to suppress a smile. He winked as if he understood what I go through with Ryan. As soon as he was out of ear shot, a student dressed as a "Goth" on one side and a business executive on the other, said, "Fuckin' awesome, dude. You ROCK! Ain't NObody who'd go out of their way to help others like you do." Another student shouted, "Let's go, guys. We gotta tell the others as soon as the bells ring." "Who was that?" I asked as the crowd dispersed. "Frankie. He's, uh ... WAS kind of a bully but he's tryin' to change." "No, I mean the suit. Mr. Supelveda." "He's the Vice Principal. We call him Mr. Suckapeter, but not to his face. "That's not nice. He seems like a GREAT guy." "He IS! He's awesome. It's a nickname we gave him out of respect ... and hope." "Hope?" "Hope we'll get a chance to suck his peter. Guys--gay guys--and girls alike call him that. I think he's the only reason some girls come to school." "Does he know you're not wearing underpants?" "Did I dance on his desk? No. Did someone report me? Probably. Will I get called to his office? Maybe. Will I get in trouble? I don't think so." "Why not?" Ryan opened the lid to the cash box. "You're probably right," I conceded. "And, of course, I'll promise to never do it again ...on school property." "So he'll go easy on you." I said, understanding his motive. "No, 'cuz we've got another sale coming up for new band uniforms." "What's that got to do with public nudity?" "You'll see." Before I could interrogate him further, the bells rang and he bounded off to class. The halls teemed with sudden activity as students switched classes and just as suddenly went quiet. During the lull, I thought about Jeremy, since he would be joining me next. 'Even without a wig, he could pass for a woman. Not a butch dyke type, either,' I thought. 'He doesn't seem to mind showing his jewels, so I'm guessing he's comfortable with his masculinity. He's the kind of guy who can take care of himself but also the kind of guy who wouldn't fare well in prison because of his good looks--something I can relate to.' "Hi, Mr. H.," Jeremy said, rousting me from my reverie. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, raising his right leg to place one cheek on the table. With his left foot still on the floor, it presented me with a close-up view of the family inheritance under the short, pleated, cheerleading skirt. The move was so casual and so natural, I got the feeling he wasn't doing it to excite me--or even reward me. It was a natural sitting position for him, like he was talking to his teammates at halftime. I was guessing he forgot he wasn't wearing underpants. "Before we get started, is there anything new in your routine that will throw my back out? I see Ryan changed HIS up a bit." "Not anything I've practiced but there's a move I'd like to try. I had planned on using the table to do it but bouncing off you would be more dramatic." "Bouncing?" "Let me show you." He stood up, stepped about ten feet down the hall and charged the table. Just as he got to it, he extended one foot against the edge, sprung up into the air and completed a back flip without the use of his hands. "Very impressive." "Yeah, but as you can see," he said straightening the table, "this isn't solid enough and gives a little on impact. If I could spring off your thighs, I could get better height and maybe do two somersaults before I landed." "I don't know. That's pretty risky." "I'm a gymnast when I'm not playing football. I've done that particular move a dozen times or more--successfully." "I'm talking about it being risky on my nuts. What if your foot slips?" "Oh, I see what you mean," Jeremy said sullenly. "That doesn't mean we CAN'T do it. It just means you'll owe me big time if you miss." His smile brightened. "Thanks Mr. H. Ryan's right. You ARE in tune with the world." "So where will this fit into the routine?" "After you lower me off your shoulder and I go into my tumble, I'll stand up, race back and spring off. Just be sure to lean back as soon as you feel my feet on your thighs. I don't want to kick you in the chin." "No, that would ruin the esthetics of the whole maneuver," I smiled. "Please tell me you're not gonna wear that for the homecoming game," a resonant baritone voice said. It came from a guy who was twice the size of Jeremy but an inch or so shorter. He appeared to be all muscle mass, too. "Hi, Mark. No, I'm afraid you guys would be so distracted you'd end up tackling the wrong man." "Woman is more like it," Mark said. "Is it true you're ... you know ... freeballin'?" Jeremy flipped the front of his skirt up and down quickly to prove the rumors were true. "What a fuckin' pervert, man," Mark said with an easy grin of camaraderie. "I always knew you had balls, this just proves it." "What's taking everybody so long?" "Most of 'em have study hall at the far end of the North wing," Mark said to Jeremy. Then turning to me he said, "Most of the jocks have study hall this period so they can rest up before practice. I got permission to get out of shop class down the hall." "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Mark, this is Mr. H., Ryan's uncle. He's the coolest dude you'll ever want to meet. Juanita already fuckin' loves him and she only met him during third period." Turning to me, he said, "Mr. H., this is Mark. He's been my best friend since third grade." Still sitting, I extended my hand. "Is it true what Ryan says?" Mark asked. "I've never known him to lie, so I guess so. But just to be on the safe side, what are you referring to?" "The size of your dick, man. He says you'd put the Budweiser Clydesdale's to shame." "You guys cut right to the chase, don't ya?" I said. I learned long ago, however, not to get all demure when the topic of my cock size came up. "Life's too short and most of it's wasted on beating around the bush," Mark said. "I wouldn't have asked but you're all Ryan talks about. He doesn't even talk about his dad as much as he talks about you." "His dad has a hush-hush job so people can't talk about him," I said. "Not that your dick is ALL he talks about," Mark clarified, "but he DOES seem to be preoccupied with it." "What you heard is true," Jeremy said. "You'll see for yourself after I start my routine." "I can't believe Juanita talked you into being a female cheerleader," Mark said to help pass the time. I thought, 'Interesting. Ryan said it was HIS idea but Mark's under the impression it was Juanita's idea. Maybe Jeremy thought it would be easier for his gridiron buddies to accept, if the suggestion came from his girlfriend, rather than some queer kid helping him make cookie sales.' "It's not much different than gymnastics--except for the skirt." Jeremy twisted his hips left and right to make the skirt flare out. I heard the distinct sound of flesh slapping against flesh as his cock thudded heavily against his thighs. "Here they come," I said, knowing he'd get a hard-on if he kept twisting like that. About fifteen guys--all rowdy jocks--crowded around. "So let's see your cheers," one guy said. "As soon as the girls get here," Jeremy said. "They're not coming. They said they were gonna buy their cookies from the Home Ec Club." "Not likely!" Jeremy said, somehow knowing he was being kidded. "Mr. S." I heard someone in the back of the crowd say. They made a path so he could wheel a furniture dolly, stacked with four more cases of cookies, up to the table. Murmurs of, "It's true, they ARE outselling everybody else," rumbled through the students. I saw an equal number of starry-eyed girls had joined the crowd and elbowed their way to the front. Jeremy looked at Mr. S, then at me and back to Mr. S. His expression was one of alarm. "Don't worry, young man, I'm not going to do anything to ruin the feverish pitch the sales at this table have generated. I just came by to ask you to escort Mr. Hickey, along with the cash box, to my office at the end of class. Okay?" There was a certain reserved tone in his voice that implied a reprimand for lewd conduct was forthcoming. "You can count on me," Jeremy said. "At least up to twenty-one," someone in the back said, eliciting smiles at some inside joke from Jeremy's jock buddies. After Mr. S. left, Jeremy leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Ten fingers, ten toes and one ... well, that adds up to twenty-one." I smiled. "Ready?" He waved his hands to create a lane for him to tumble through. I looked into my lap, saw I was still hard from the view I'd gotten of Jeremy's dick earlier and a wet spot starting to seep through. "Let's do it," I said with a compliant sigh. After Jeremy started the routine, I got self-conscious of just standing there, so I bent down into the scrimmage stance with my right fist on the floor. Seeing an opportunity, Jeremy used my back as a "tabletop" to perform a "rollover." He rolled his back across my back with his legs spread wide for all to see. Raucous laughter, guffaws and wolf whistles almost drowned out the bashful giggles and gasps from the girls. I heard the beginnings of the familiar chant that meant I needed to grasp Jeremy's thigh, so I got into position. A lift, high kick, flying cross and a tumble later, Jeremy was at the end of the original routine. Then I saw him racing toward me. A touch of his foot on my thigh and Jeremy was in the air. He was in the tuck position. He had a hand on each knee and his thighs were spread wide. One, two, THREE somersaults and then he stretched out and 'stuck' a solid landing. "Ten point O," several of the girls screamed. Pretending to be bashful, Jeremy swung one foot back and forth like he was leveling sand on a playground. "It's not THAT long. It just LOOKS that long." There were more squeals from the girls. At least a half-dozen guys turned and walked away in embarrassment from Jeremy's brazen remark. Of course, they returned to the table quickly, for fear of missing out on something even more bizarre. "C'mon, put your money where your mouth is," Jeremy said. "I've got cookies to sell." "Step right up, folks," I called like a carnival barker. "Get 'em before they're gone." "Can I get a kiss for each box I buy?" one girl asked pleadingly. "No tongue," I said. "He's gotta save that for the victory celebration after the homecoming game." A pep rally roar resonated from the crowd. "How many?" Jeremy asked. Digging in her purse, she said, "Three." "Grab what you want," I said to the crowd. "Line up and I'll cash you out. I'm serious, these things are selling out fast." There was a scramble of activity before I felt a hand grasp my hard-on. "I grabbed what I want," a girl with bad breath said. "It's illegal for me to sell that," I said, "and I'm too pretty to survive in prison--unmolested." "You sure are, hunky, but I bet you can take care of yourself." "Mr. H., can you make change for these folks, please?" Jeremy asked, coming to my rescue. I twisted out of the girl's grasp and got busy. One after another paid and left until just the two of us were left. The whole event only lasted twenty minutes. Once again, Jeremy lifted one leg to sit on the table. "Thanks again, Mr. H. This means an awful lot to me." "My pleasure. I'm just glad I could help Ryan ... uh, your team out." After a brief silence, Jeremy said seriously, "I can't tell you how glad I am Ryan came into my life." "Really?" I asked in disbelief. "It's like everything in my life has turned around. Not because of anything HE'S done necessarily, but since I met him ..." In my best Irish brogue, I said, "So you'd be sayin' he's your lucky charm?" Smiling at my feeble attempt, Jeremy said, "More like my lucky jockstrap." "I beg your pardon?" "I know he's gay and he says you are ... aware of that." "Yeah," I said quizzically. "I was gonna break up with Juanita back in September because she was so jealous she wouldn't let me out of her sight. The same day I was gonna split, I met Ryan. I was supposed to meet Juanita after school but Ryan wanted me to meet HIM out by the bus stop. "Your brother, Brad, told him to contact you." "Yeah, he mentioned that first thing, so I kinda knew what he wanted to talk about." "I, for one, am glad you met with him." "After what I went through with my brother, I guess you'd have to say I devoted my life to helping ... uh ..." "Dweebs, nerds, pussy boys?" "Don't call him that!" There was a pause before Jeremy said politely, "Please." I saw he was agonizing over something, so I didn't say anything. "Ryan told me he was gay even before he asked me to 'put out the word.' He said he didn't want to get me in trouble with my friends by protecting a ..." "Queer?" Jeremy flinched at the word. "We're used to all the derogatory remarks and phrases." "But it doesn't mean you have to like it--or like havin' 'em used in front of you." "I appreciate your concern. For most gays--not all, but most--it doesn't hurt any more than someone calling YOU a 'dumb jock.' It hurts, sure, but it's not devastating." "Anyway, I told him I wasn't gay but I'd make sure he didn't get hassled. You know what he said?" "He tells me a lot of things but nothing about your talk." "He said he'd jump my bones like a starving dog ..." "That sounds like Ryan." "... but I'd have to put it in writing before he'd lay a tongue on me." "THAT sounds like Ryan, too." "Totally! He's always thinkin' about the other guy first ... or girl. Juanita told me that when she first met Ryan, he said he wouldn't touch me without written permission from her first." "She told me." "I thought she would. She thinks the world of Ryan, too." "Too?" Bashfully, Jeremy said, "Yeah. For a while, I pretended he was the little brother I never had but I quickly realized it was more than that." "We're not talkin' love, here, are we?" I asked. "No! Hell no. I'm not gay. But the little guy ... yeah, ... I love him but not that same-sex-love kinda thing. Trust me on that. But I think more fondly of him than I do my own brother." "Well, I understand you and Brad had some bad times," I offered. "Even so, I'd ... kill any son of a bitch that tried to hurt Ryan. But you must know ... Ryan has that effect on people." Thinking of Jason, Taylor, Tyler, Brad, Officer Wilson, Jamie, and countless others it seemed, I knew he was right. "He told me how special you are to him, too," Jeremy said. "I hope he didn't tell you WHY I'm that special." "Not in so many words, but I know it's not just ..." Jeremy made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and jabbed the index finger of his right hand in and out of the hole it created. Strangely enough, anticipating where his comment was going, I made a circle of my thumb and forefinger at the same time he did but I moved it toward and away from my mouth, which was formed into an "O." We laughed easily at each other. "I'd never tell anyone else this," Jeremy said, "but ... if I ever ... considered ... and I'm not ... you know, doin' something like that ... it would only be with Ryan." "Well, you'd have to put it in writing, first." With an easy smile, Jeremy shyly said, "Yeah." "Have you ever told HIM that? That he means that much to you, I mean?" "Not in that way, no. I wouldn't want him to get his hopes up for something that's not gonna happen." "You see, YOU think as much about Ryan's feelings as HE does about yours. Sometimes you've got to tell a little lie, cock your leg to piss, and live another life for a while. It doesn't mean you have to commit yourself to it forever." "I don't get ya." "What I'm saying is, if you and Ryan ever did it ... and I'm not saying you ever will, but if you did, telling your girlfriend a little lie won't kill your chances of happiness together. Lift your leg like the cur that you are ... some men anyway, and piss on the conventions life shackles us with." "The third part I get." Jeremy said. "We better head to the Vice Principal's office, dontcha think?" I said. "The bell hasn't rung, yet." "Ooookay," I said, leaning back in the chair, giving me a better look at the equipment between Jeremy's legs. "Has Ryan EVER been with a girl?" "Can't say." "Can't or won't?" "He'll tell you if he wants you to know." "Oh, I get it." "Why do you ask?" I expected the customary, 'If he's never tried it ...' response. "It was a dream I had." "I love dreams. Wanna tell me about it? I mean, I don't know the first thing about how to interpret dreams but I always find them fascinating." "Ryan was gettin' it on with Juanita and he looked like he knew exactly what he was doin'." "It's not rocket science, you know." "Yeah, I know. Actually, that's not where the dream started. It started out pretty usual. I was fuckin' Juanita and ... oh, by the way, we've never gone all the way, yet. "Probably why you dream about it," I offered. "Yeah, well, anyway, we're doin' it and ..." then Jeremy absent- mindedly reached under the skirt and touched himself. "... the next thing I know, Ryan's fuckin' her and I'm ... like ... feeling what he's feeling but I'm looking down on the two of them--like I'm stuck on the ceiling or something." "I've heard of similar dreams." "Well, this is where it gets weird. Ryan looks over his shoulder to see that I'm still on the ceiling but when he looks back at Juanita ..." "It's no longer Juanita?" "No. I mean yeah, it's not. It's Ryan. I mean Ryan's lying there and I'm where Ryan was ... where I was supposed to be ... when it was Juanita, I mean." "You're fucking Ryan," I said as a statement. There was no question in my mind where Jeremy's dream was going. "Yeah, I'm not on the ceiling anymore. I'm feeling him. I'm feeling ... through my cock ... how different it is. Not better, not worse, just different. And I'm feeling HIM--his chest, his thighs, I even run my finger across his lips." Jeremy shuddered visibly at the recollection. "And things changed again?" His eyes got a frightened look like he thought I could read his mind. "Kinda." When I didn't say anything, he took a deep breath. "I kissed him. I had my eyes closed but I knew it was him. When I opened my eyes to make sure ..." Jeremy hesitated. "Go on, I'm not gonna tell anyone." When he continued to hesitate, I said, "Especially not Ryan." "I was looking up at the ceiling." Remaining silent, I let Jeremy clarify my supposition. "I was on bottom. Ryan was on top. Ryan was ... well, I didn't feel anything ... down there ... UP there ... so I'm just guessing he was ... fuckin' me." "When he was fucking Juanita, you felt it, too, because you're familiar with what fucking a girl feels like." "Not really. I've never ..." Jeremy said bashfully. "What I mean is, you know it's similar to sliding your pecker through a wet fist. But when Ryan was ... on top of YOU, there was no frame of reference for you, so you didn't feel anything." "That makes sense," Jeremy said, "but what doesn't make sense is ... as he leaned down to kiss me, I woke up squirting all over the inside of my pajamas." "Well, you certainly got my attention," I said, cupping my cock in the tight gold pants. A great gob of pre-cum oozed out to further humiliate me. My comment caused Jeremy to look down at me but when he did, he saw the hem of the skirt slide past the crown of his cock to bunch up in a heap at the base of his erection. "Fuck!" he yelled in a whisper, trying to cover himself. "Your place or mine?" I chuckled. A smile labored to get past his expression of mortification but it made it. "Hey, kid, it's just natural," I said trying to ease his discomfort. "But we were talking about ... Ryan!" "We were talking about Juanita, too. Jeremy, hard-ons happen. Don't be embarrassed." "Easy for you to say. You're probably used to it. Besides, yours is still covered." I gently removed his hands from his crotch, careful not to touch 'IT.' Then I pulled my waistband down. "So's mine. But we better take care of this before the next bell." "Shit!" Jeremy said, looking at his watch. "Five minutes. Let's go." "Where?" "Boys' room." I grabbed the last two boxes of cookies, Mr. S.'s bag and the cash box. Racing behind Jeremy to the bathroom, I got a chance to watch his butt cheeks flex--hot quarterback ass cheeks. I just about creamed, watching them. We dashed inside and Jeremy took the first stall. "No! Down here!" "No time." "Down here," I said insistently, grabbing his wrist and hauling him--stumbling--down to the last stall. I shoved him inside and joined him in the tight confines of the cubicle. "Whacha doin', man?" "They always check the front stall first." "I mean ..." "No time. Start jackin'," I said hurriedly as I started beating my meat. I rested my back against one side wall and Jeremy faced me, resting against the opposite divider wall. "Oh, jeez," Jeremy agonized as he began jerking off. "I can't cum with somebody watchin' me." "Yeah, you're right," I said staring at Jeremy's fist flailing on his pecker. "Close your eyes and ... think of Juanita." "Yeah," Jeremy crooned. "... kissing Ryan." "Awh, fuck!" he sighed with a shudder. "... you're kissing Ryan," I said, surprising him with the change-up. Jeremy started squirting ropes of cum and I had to jump out of the way. As soon as he started, I spurted all over the stall wall. We only got about three deep breaths before the bells rang. "I believe you're supposed to escort me to the Principal's office," I smiled as we slipped out of the stall. While we were washing our hands, Jeremy said, "I've never done that before." I held the door for him and we stepped out into the hall. "A healthy young man like you? I'd have thought you did it every night." "Not that!" Jeremy whispered as the hall began to fill with students hell-bent on going home. "With another guy." "So now I guess you think your dick's gonna fall off." "No, but ..." "But?" "Later." "I'll hold you to it," I said. As we passed the table, I discovered I had left Lyle's coat hanging over the back of the chair, so I grabbed it. As we approached the Principal's office, Juanita caught up with us. "How'd you guys do?" "This'll tell the tale," Jeremy said, tapping the cash box I was holding close to my chest. "Hey guys," Ryan said as he came bounding up behind us. "You, too, pussy," he said, tickling Juanita under the chin a couple of times. "You're the pussy," Juanita giggled. "Down boy," I said, making sure Jeremy saw my eyes glance down at his crotch. He smiled but blushed anyway. Whispering conspiratorially, he said, "Yeah, it is." Together, we entered the office. The secretary's desk was in the center of the room. Her brass plate indicated her name was Mrs. Womark. A door on the right had PRINCIPAL painted on the frosted glass. A door on the left read VICE PRINCIPAL. "Mr. Supelveda asked that I bring this to him personally," I said. "He told me to escort him," Jeremy said. "I got a message during last period to come to his office after school," Ryan said. "Me, too," Juanita said. Mrs. Womark was staring directly at my crotch. I'm not sure she heard either one of us. We all looked to our left as Mr. S. opened the door. "Oh, good, you're all here. Come on in. Have a seat." Four leather chairs, decorated with rows of brass tacks around the seat, sat facing the oversized cherry wood desk. I read Jeremy's lips as he said, 'Oh, fuck,' knowing the skirt would ride up when he sat down. Mr. S. extended an upturned palm toward the chairs. "Please, have a seat." "Uh, Mr. S.," Jeremy said, "I've been sitting for almost an hour. Okay if I stand? Uh ... I've gotta work out the muscles before practice." "Have a seat." We all sat. I made a deliberate and obvious show of crossing my leg at the knee, hoping Jeremy and Ryan would pick up on it. Jeremy crossed his leg but Ryan smiled impishly and left his knees parted-- something he almost never does. Just before Mr. S. walked behind his desk to sit down, Ryan crossed his legs--much to my relief. "Congratulations. Rascal's Radicals had the top sales, today, I'm sure." "We had a name?" I asked, astonished. "Not only did you sell enough to cover expenses for YOUR table, you sold enough to cover two other tables, too. I'm proud of you, kids." "Thanks, Mr. S.," the trio said almost simultaneously. "Oh, I forgot," I said, handing Mr. S. his paper bag. "Here's your order. When I offered to hold it for you, I thought you were a parent visiting for ..." By the time I got that much out of my mouth, I realized he was too young to have a child old enough to be a senior. "Now, the only thing left is for you to show me your routine." "What!" Ryan shouted. "Uh, Mr. S. I've got football practice. Homecoming, you know." "Oh, come on guys, you know he's not gonna make us do the routine," Juanita said. "It's just his ..." "I most certainly am." "Uh, Mr. Supelveda, could we talk about this?" I asked. "Sure we can, Mr. Hickey ... as soon as they've performed the routine I've heard so much about." "Uh, Mr. S. ... is there something else we could do to ..." Ryan asked. "Yes there is." "Oh, good," Jeremy breathed in relief. "You" he said pointing to Jeremy, "can sit on the bench tomorrow night for insubordination." "NO!" Ryan shouted defiantly. Then in a calmer tone, he said, "Mr. S., this is all my fault. Please, don't punish HIM. I'm the one who came up with the stupid idea. I'm the one who should be punished. I'll do whatever you want. I'll scrub the boys' room with a toothbrush. I'll wash your car anytime you want until I graduate. Afterward, even." "No," I said. "It's my fault. I'm the adult here. I should have put a stop to it before it even got started." With a wave of his hand in my direction, Mr. S. said, "Just what would you suggest for your punishment, Mr. Hickey? Expulsion?" "Oh, yeah. Well, even so, it might look like these kids were just playing a prank but they were being responsible, too. They were very adult in their approach to marketing their cookies." "Adult is an understatement, from what I've heard." "Uh ... if I might, sir." I said respectfully. "These kids see advertising on TV, in magazines, it's even in the movie theaters now. And what they see is buxom models selling everything from automobiles and soft drinks to ... to ... tampons. Half-naked men sell condoms to Viagra. Even the advertising for the top spot reality shows reveal more skin than they do the paradise they're broadcasting from." "I'm listening," Mr. S. said, dryly when I didn't say anything more. "These kids are merely emulating what they see on TV--they're just taking it up a notch. They're the next generation of advertising execs, you know." "I'll only know once I've seen their advertising technique," Mr. S. said. "And since I have a dinner date with my wife tonight, I'd like to get out of here. You want to do it in here or out in the hall?" "In here," Jeremy said. Looking around, I realized there wasn't enough room. "The hall," I said. "We can't risk Jeremy getting an injury." Mr. S. stood, locked the cash box and gave Ryan the key. Then he put the box in his desk and locked the drawer. "We'll count the money first thing in the morning. Can you be here early?" "Yes sir," Ryan said politely. Mr. S. waved us out of his office. Mrs. Womark appeared to be gone for the day. When we walked into the hall, I saw it was virtually empty. There were maybe ten students milling around. "Okay! Let's do it!" Ryan shouted with enthusiasm. Juanita started her routine and Mr. S. said, "Stop! I heard the jersey wasn't quite that tight." She loosened the strings and rearranged things until it allowed the bottoms of her breasts to show a little more, too. "Again!" Ryan said. Once Juanita was in the scrimmage stance, fist on the floor, Ryan and Jeremy began their routine. Again, I held Jeremy while Juanita held Ryan. Following the flip and tumble, Jeremy gave me a nod and I braced for his back flip assault. Three full somersaults later, Jeremy landed a perfect "stick." "Remarkable. Truly remarkable. I can see why everyone was so impressed," Mr. S. said. Turning to me, he said. "Mr. Hickey, it was an honor to meet you. If more parents ... and concerned uncles took as much interest in these kids as you do, we'd have graduates we could ALL be proud to know. As for you kids, I'll see you tomorrow." "That's it!" Jeremy asked. "You expected more? Hummm, I must have missed something," Mr. S. said with a sly smile. Jeremy and Ryan high-fived at about the same time Juanita jumped up, wrapping her legs around Jeremy's waist like Ryan does to me. So, naturally, Ryan jumped up on me. Leaning back and looking over his shoulder at Jeremy and Juanita, he said, "Wait'll Mr. S. finds out the padded underwear you've got on is going to be up for sale on the school's underground network." "What!" Juanita said. "So don't wash 'em. After Jeremy wears 'em tomorrow night, we'll have both guys AND girls bidding on them. We'll make a fortune. Even more if we win the Homecoming Game." "WHEN we win," Jeremy said, defensively. "Ryan," I said, upset but not knowing why. "What? The money'll be for a good cause." "Like what?" "I don't know. It depends on how much we make. I mean, we'll have to use some of the money to buy Jeremy some new drawers but otherwise, it should be all profit ... after the cost of running the ad on the school's black market computer site." "You're making this up as you go along, aren't you?" "Yeah," Ryan said devilishly. "I'm good, aren't I? Who knows, maybe I'll offer the highest bid. Daddy can take it out of my savings." "Not if I get to bid, too," I said, thinking about owning a pair of Jeremy's practice drawers. "Now get down, both of you. Jeremy's got practice." "Oh, shit! I'll go change so you can have these back," Juanita said, patting the thighs of the padded pants. After she left, I said, "How are you going to practice, knowing your cock is right where her pussy's been all day?" "You're just pure evil, Mr. H.," Jeremy said with a smirk. "First the bathroom stunt and now this." "What bathroom stunt?" Ryan asked in a tone that implied he was feeling left out. "I'll tell you later," I said, "if Jeremy gives me permission." "C'mon, I'll show you," Jeremy said as the front of his skirt started lifting without the aid of his hands. "But I've got to stop by my locker first." Juanita met him at his locker with his outfit and was amused with his "feat of levitation." It was poking out, not up, because of the weight of the skirt and the head was just barely peeking out. "You guys want to help me get out of this outfit?" Jeremy asked. At Jeremy's insistence, Ryan and I followed him into the boys' room located in the junior high corridor. "I've gotta get this off first or I won't be able to concentrate on practice," Jeremy said, grabbing his cock. "So why am I here?" Ryan asked. "Nothing gay," Jeremy said casually, "but I thought the least I could do after all you've done for me ... you know, the sales, the class trip ..." "Yeah, yeah, get on with it," Ryan said impatiently. "... is let you watch." He didn't bother to go into a stall. As he started beating off he said, "I've heard you guys like to watch." "You guys?" Ryan said defensively. "Like you guys don't like to watch? Porno videos are the same thing as watching, you know." Pounding his meat furiously, Jeremy said, "I've never seen one." "Oh, Uncle Dickey," Ryan said pathetically, "we have to give this poor unfortunate boy an education," Ryan said, as be began beating his own meat, too, under his skirt. "Uh ... your movies aren't quite up my alley," Jeremy said. "No, but Juanita's pussy was in your pants," I said, changing the subject, knowing Jeremy was in a hurry. True to form, Jeremy blasted a load into the sink. "Thanks, Mr. H. I needed that." "Simply, mind over matter, my boy." Seeing Jeremy blast caused Ryan to start shooting into the same sink. I unzipped Jeremy's skirt as he pulled off his tube-top. In a matter of moments, he was ready for practice. As he headed for the door, he said, "See you tomorrow, Rascal." Then in a whisper to himself on the way out the door, he said, "Shit! It's getting hard again." Ryan and I smiled as I cupped my hard-on and said, "You can take care of this at home." As we headed toward the car, Ryan kept flipping the hem of the skirt playfully. I said, "So what's this about new band uniforms?" To be continued. Maybe I've been asking you, my faithful readers, the wrong question. Is there anyone out there who can tell me how to get people--Internet surfers --to visit my site? That is to say, people who haven't come to Nifty already and read Rascal. Contact me at dickhickey@a2zestful.com Thanks for coming back for more. I really like writing this story and I hope it helps you guys "throw a bone." You have just finished reading chapter 16. I'm currently working on chapter 24 with several more in my 'gourd'. For those of you who checked out my site, (http://www.a2zestful.com) thanks for helping me out. Keep in touch with me at zestful@myexcel.com or http://www.a2zestful.com