Chris in Highschool

  Disclaimer
  This is an homosexual content which may contain sex between underaged guys. If you can't stand it don't read it. If reading this content is illegal in accordance with the law of the place you live, don't read it.

  If you're looking for a story only with sex, this is not for you to read. This story is going to be mostly about finding true love (of course it may have sex but always as part of a context).

  Any similarity is coincidental as it comes all from my imagination.
  You are not allowed to copy this story nor any part of it.


  Chapter 8

Mr. Thompson

December, 3rd, 2008, Wednesday

    “Is it ‘normal’ to feel like I feel, is it only a ‘phase’, will it pass, what if I try a girl and ‘it’ doesn’t ‘work’… phew, we don’t learn that at school regular classes about sexual ed…” I was lost in my thoughts during class “and what about the result of the tryouts for the football team… I should talk to Mr. Thompson.”

    Well, I couldn’t talk about it to dad and that was killing me. Yes, that’s it, go talking to Mr. Thompson, after all, as he is the coach and he teachers about the sexual stuff classes… well *blush* he should know about it all… yes, that’s it, go talking to him before practice.

    ***

    When the last bell rang, I ran off, to change quickly to be able to run into Mr. Thompson before practice started.

    When I changed into my football uniform sure I looked sexier, you know, the red t-shirt with the white pants, so tight, and that large shoulder protection, just the helmet didn’t help much, but still, gave a ‘mysterious’ gaze lol… however, nothing compared to Bruce, Derek… or even Peter… ah, but that doesn’t come even close to the coach.

    I mean, Mr. Thompson is one of those men women must die for. He’s not old, but older than me, of course, he has his hair still all black, very short, and that beard shade on his face. He is very tall, it must be something like 6’3”, he is always wearing a polo way too small for his biceps or shoulders, it usually shows only the tip of his hair chest… he must have a really hairy, and broad, chest. When he’s in shorts you can see he has really nice thighs and calves. I guess his strong jaw and his… I don’t know, posture, commanding everybody… to die for *sigh* HOWEVER, focus Chris.

    “Excuse me, coach.” I said after a light knock at his door.

    “Hey, Chris, s’up?” he said with a smile. Gosh, all those white teeth with his very large jaw and that look right at me… he was so confident… intimidating I’d say… geez.

    “I… er…” I stammed.

    “Nothing… I don’t wanna be late.” I said and didn’t even enter his office. I literally ran to the field. I just stopped on the way to wash my face and have lots of water. My face flushed and my mouth was dry.

    I tried to focus on practice and that was even nice. I should take an opportunity to ask if I made it to the team for next season… but I admit, I was kind of scared as I know I sucked at the try outs… this season, bench, next season, not even that. Damn, I wish there was a way I could make it to the team… only if my subconscious, or faith, dunno, was working on something, because I couldn’t come up with a solution for that and, damn it, I didn’t wanna let the old man down…

    I was also ‘scared’ for this fast beating heart feeling I had when I saw Mr. Thompson… ah, whatever, the best I had to do was to hurry and go home to clear my mind.

    When practice was finished for the day, that was the plan, off to a very cold shower and home.

    “That’s it for today and hit the showers.” the coach said.

    ***

    After practice, I was so deep in my thoughts that day that I didn’t pay much attention to the guys jokes, didn’t really make part of it. As result of that, I was the last one closing my bag at the lockers.

    “Could you show up at my office, please?” Mr. Thompson echoed at the lockers. I looked around to see if it was me, as there was nobody else, well, that was me. He nodded at me, making sure it was really me.

    My heart raced. Did I do something wrong? Was it still about the fight from Monday? What if I didn’t make it to the team? Was he going to tell I was a shame to my father and to the team?

    Well, I had to go fast, the coach asked me to drop by his office. I quickly settled my stuff and after shower, in simple clean clothes, a white t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts, you know, I went to his office, still with my wet hair, dark brown while wet in contrast with the green of my eyes. A quick look at the mirror and here you go Chris.

    “Come in.” he said. The door was half open.

    “So, I guess there was something you didn’t properly asked me before practice, right?” Mr. Thompson asked.

    “If it’s about the try outs…” he started looking at the ground. That shouldn’t be a good start of a sentence, but I didn’t really pay attention at that, at the moment. I got frozen with the first sentence.

    I was thinking to myself “that’s it, Chris, say it, otherwise you’ll chicken out and won’t say it.”

    “Mr. Thompson!” I interrupted him.

    He looked at me.

    “I have a doubt!” I blurted out.

    He was sitting on his chair and motioned me to sit down.

    “I don’t know how to say it…” I started. I looked at him, and that hunk shape, that beard shadow on his face, that angled jaw, those sparkling eyes looking at me, paying attention to me… well, I looked at the ground, otherwise I couldn’t say it.

    “I’m having these weird feelings…” I started… but I couldn’t continue so I put my hands on my face.

    In one motion, I felt Mr. Thompson’s hand on my shoulder. I looked up and he was on one knee, close to the chair, looking at my face.

    I looked at him and he had a large, white smile and those dark eyes, so shiny and damn it…

    I started tearing up… I didn’t know how to say it but I didn’t have anyone else in mind to clear my… doubts.

    “Hey, what’s it? Did someone do something to you, bully you? I mean, Chris, from what I see you don’t seem to kind of kid to be bullied…” he started, looking deeply at me.

    “No, that’s not it *sniff* it’s just that lately, you know, during practices, during the showers, even during some classes… I’m getting these… hardons…” I started.

    “Oh, it’s perfectly normal at your age. Don’t you remember what I said during your sexual ed classes?” he said with a warm smile and a hand on my shoulder “huh, champ?” he reinforced.

    “Yeah… that’s the point...” I said, again, looking at the floor… “I guess I feel really hot, like my face gets hot and er… *blush* down there… but when I’m around er… guys… That’s not how we learned at the classes.”

    “Yeah, we have only the basics on schedule”. Mr. Thompson said, never the gallant smile leaving his face.

    “Have you talked to your folks about it?” he asked.

    “It’s only dad and me, you know?”

    “So, have you talked to your father about it?”

    “Gee, no! I don’t want him to know that I think such… things.” I said, blushing even more, half of embarrassment, half of fear of the mere thought.

    “What do you want him to think of you?” Mr. Thompson asked.

    “Well, I want him to think of me as his strong guy, the way he always thought me and makes sure to make his point, like, playing at the team, having good grades, never being bullied…” I trailed off.

    “Mmm… I see, maybe he’s not the best person for you to talk about it.” Mr. Thompson said, lightly lifting up my t-shirt, to put his thumb over a purple mark, now barely noticeable on my left rib.

    Mr. Thompson has been inquiring me about those lately after the showers, in the lockers and I’ve been evasive.

    “I’m sorry to ask that, but has he ever tried to abuse you?” he asked.

    “Oh, no! Not that… ahem… I mean, he doesn’t know how I think about er… guys…” I said. Mr. Thompson continued to look at me. “Okay, about the bruises, I admit, it was dad, but as you see it’s no big deal, and after mom mmm passed away… he’s been having a hard time, drinking… but …but it was just it.” I finished with a shrug.

    “You know Chris”, he said resting his big arm on across my shoulders, by my side “my father, god have him, used to be just like that on me, very strict, I knew I should impress him, mostly at sports… well, *light laugh* that’s why I’m here as a coach nowadays… has paid off…”

    “You remind me a lot of myself when I was your age.” The coach continued.

    “Really?” I said with a light smile, wiping away the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

    “Yeah, I had the hotties for my best friend during high school… I mean, even dated some girls but with this friend… I tried some… ‘stuff’… I had one or two more friends ‘like that’ during college too. I guess that’s the kind of doubt you have, right?” he asked.

    Wow, that was so nice to know that a masculine guy like Mr. Thompson could understand me. That made me feel better.

    He stood up beside me. As he moved beside me, wow, his cologne smelled so nice and he was so big.

    “Thanks, Mr. Thompson”. I said, and didn’t give a thought about it as I hugged him.

    Wow, that was the best feeling ever to bury my face on his large chest through his white t-shirt.

    “Take your time, kiddo, everything is gonna be alright.” he said hugging me back, ruffling my hair.

    Involuntarily I had a raging boner and started rocking it against Mr. Thompson and damn it, those hairy arms, those big legs, that cologne… I couldn’t resist and put a hand on his right peck, over his tight t-shirt, jeez!

    I looked up at him to see if he was mad or something. He smiled back at me and looked with shiny eyes and then quickly looked down.

    I looked down too and looked at a tent in his shorts, damn, he was tall, his tent was big and the tip was almost on my chin.

    I tentatively put my hand on it. It was very warm.

    “Damn it. With the divorce, the wife away for a while I haven’t been… argh… lately”. he said as I caressed his raging erection. “You keep doing that and… ah”… he trailed off.

    I stopped and looked up at his face again.

    “Do you wanna clear some doubts?” he asked. I nodded affirmatively. “Have you ever seen someone else’s penis?”.

    “Only on the screen.” I sheepishly replied.

    “Live, never?” he asked. I nodded negatively.

    He pressed my both hands on his hard shaft through the fabric of his shorts. “You can look if you want.” he said with a smile.

    I smiled back, almost hypnotized and tentatively pulled the waistband of his shorts (and briefs).

    Wow, it was kind of dark, and big, like bigger than mine for sure and had a lot, and when I say a lot, I mean it, of dark hair, all around… and for whatever reason his balls hanged very low. I felt my mouth salivating.

    “You can kiss it if you want.” he said as he hugged me back brushing his shaft against my chest. I could feel his very strong voice vibrating as he said that.

    I kneeled and kissed it. It tasted weird. It was kind of salty, but good at the same time. My own erection was aching.

    I licked the tip and that made Mr. Thompson moan. That was heavenly vision, a huge man like that, moaning, in front of me and his shaft… geez, so so big. I put it inside my mouth.

    “Don’t touch your teeth, ok?” he said. I obediently nodded.

    “With the wife away that’ll do”. he said with a grunt and pressed the back of my neck with his hand.

    I kinda sucked it like if I was having pop with a straw… exactly like I saw in the movies and damn it smelled so nice… that I couldn’t know from the moves, I couldn’t touch his pubes with my nose because his shaft was too big, though he was so very gentle applying little pressure on my head with his hand, otherwise I’d have choked and my eyes would get watery.

    He had only his right hand on my head, on my hair, as his hands were so big. With the other hand he was caressing his own chest.

    I felt his shaft get even thicker inside my mouth and I felt a hot jet. As I was about to get back, he held, now, with both hands, my head and two more jets hit my throat. My tongue got full of it too but I was able to swallow. The taste was weird but the smell of it all, his crotch, his cologne, the sudden heat of the room, was all so good, it was worth it, and it was better than any reply of any theoretical question I could’ve asked.

    I grimaced and held my both hands on his legs as I felt myself erupt in my pants.

    Mr. Thompson pulled me up and held me.

    “I’m sorry.” I said and tried to pull back.

    “Oh, you’ve already…” he said as my shorts touched his thigh and he felt the damp spot.

    “Never mind.” he held me as one more shot erupted and I trembled in his strong grip and very large arms around my shoulders and upper back.

    I couldn’t help but look up and smile at him.

    He let go of the hug, put his shorts back up.

    “Now, go change... again.” he said and lightly patted my butt as I motioned to the door.

    As I got to the door, I got one last look of him, for the day.

    “Hit the showers.” he said with a grin and a wink at me. I sighed and before my legs trembled again I literally ran to the lockers.

  My note
Mr. Thompson? Peter? A girl? Who does Chris truly like? Does someone of them like him back?
What do you think aaand... what do you think would be for best?
I'd love to know your opinion for me to move on with the story =D

Well, honestly, I do have a good time putting these feelings on the paper/screen *giggle*

Peter in Highschool
The title is 'clickable' The story has the date in the beginning of each chapter for you to know where to keep it up between Peter in Highschool and Chris in Highschool, as they happen about the same time and, mostly, about the same facts ; )

  And these are from a few years ago, but here they are, my other series (the titles are 'clickable'):
Through the rain
My angel   and
I want a friend
Take a look if you feel like.