Date: Fri, 29 Sep 2006 15:13:52 -0700 (PDT) From: Dennis Banneker Subject: Kevin's Horny High School Days and Boy Discoveries - Chapter 1 Kevin's Horny High School Days and Boy Discoveries - Chapter 1 at Thurber Boys Academy with a note for U.K. and other readers. by Dennis Banneker September 29, 2006 StoriesNew@yahoo.com [Ages 12-17; action in all chapters, starting with ch. 1] (NOTE: On the advice of my British friends, I've included a note of explanation concerning certain terms and details of the school system in the USA. Please see the end of this file for the text, "A NOTE FOR MY U.K. READERS.") Other stories: Crazy for Chad, ch. 18, came out 28 Sept 2006. (High school). My full story list is at the end of that chapter. List includes dates, story summary, and character ages. _________________________________________________________________ The memory of my high school days is so vivid, I know I'll never forget them. I was inspired by a few key events and created this story. I can't say it's a true story because I changed so much major stuff, it's nothing like what actually happened. None of the participants will recognize themselves or anything familiar. All names have been changed. --Dennis P.S. I was sick for most of the summer and still trying to recover. I'm glad to be back. --D.B. _______________________________________________________________ KEVIN'S HORNY HIGH SCHOOL DAYS AND BOY DISCOVERIES AT THURBER BOYS ACADEMY by Dennis Banneker StoriesNew@yahoo.com Kevin Tillerson, 14 (narrates) Shawn McNair, 14 Kyle Wonderly, 14 Brian Wonderly, 16 Steve Ashton, 14 Phillip Benton, 13 Jamie Weller, 13 Matt Pearson, 17 Joshua Barnes, 15 Troy Barnes, 17 ______________________________ CHAPTER 1 I have a clear memory of that first day of high school, which was less then two months ago. I remember how frightened I felt being in a strange new building--excited, too. I love thinking about it. Thurber is so different from any other school I've attended, and I was frightened at first. Now, I'm well settled in. But my first day there was a very special day in my life. I close my eyes and can hear boys running down the halls, some of them shouting, desperate to get to their classrooms before the bell rang. Frenzied footsteps and the sounds of lockers slamming, muffled cursing as combination locks were turned and turned again-- echo in my ears. It was a warm, happy place, filled with activity and the heat of over-zealous boilers as they poured too much heat into the building and the September air. All the windows were open. I enjoyed the sight of the other boys my age, their blurred bodies racing past me, most of the new ones hoping they were running in the right direction--needing only a pair of horns on their heads to complete the illusion of a cattle stampede. I was one of the new ones, along with some friends from junior high school, but I'd never seen most of the other freshmen students before. I'd no sooner thought that when a familiar face came speeding toward me. "Get out of the way, Kevin! You're so slow, you'll be late!" Shawn McNair shouted as he sprinted toward me with a sort of half- smile on his face. His friendly voice echoed off the walls as his sweaty hand grasped my arm--branding it with its strong grip--pulling me to the side with a tug as he sped by. Shawn was being his usual friendly, aggressive self, but he looked for all the world like the leader of a cavalry brigade charging the enemy. "Oh!" I said as my rear end cushioned my sudden stop against a locker. It wasn't a violent thing and there was no pain. I couldn't help smiling. I liked Shawn a lot. It took only a second at the time, but even now, I slide my fingers over the spot on my arm in warm retrospect and feel the imprint of his hand and the moisture of his reckless, 14-year-old eagerness--the hint of a smile giving weight to the moment, immortalizing it. His teeth had a perfection that fascinated me. "Wake up, Tillerson!" Shawn added from many yards away, turning his head sufficiently that I heard him above the din as he propelled himself forward, plowing a zigzag path through the crowded hallway. He was a good runner. By the time I regained my composure, the distance between us made it impossible for Shawn to hear my reply--if I *had* replied, that is. My lips moved silently, as if whispering as I mouthed the words, 'My classroom is right here,' while I stared at the top of his blond head, blurred as it was in the distance. We'd been on the track team in junior high school. We planned to do the same at Thurber. I may have been slow in the hallways, but I'm one of the top runners. I had a lot of admiration for Shawn because of his running ability, the way he worked out and took care of his body. If there was anyone who was physically perfect, with every muscle exercised just so without being bulked, it was Shawn McNair. Unlike other schools I'd gone to, here I went from room to room to attend my classes. In the halls, I had to contend with older boys so tall and big that I first wondered if my mother hadn't driven me to the wrong school. It felt odd to be several hundred miles from home. There were other novelties for me--parts of the building were incomplete or had makeshift furniture. The school was under construction for major remodeling, and the inrush of so many new students, especially freshman such as Shawn and I, seemed to put the whole establishment under strain. About twenty other kids from my junior high school attended Thurber Academy. The place was unusual to me in other ways--this was my first all-boys school and there were stricter rules. You had to use a jock strap for PE, shower naked afterwards (no more showers with briefs on), wear school trousers, a school jacket and tie, stand to answer questions in class, and be punished for even a second of lateness. It's a wonder they didn't issue school underwear. I'd heard that if the coach was mad, he'd make you do the whole gym class naked. Thurber Boys Academy was also my first private school. It was heavily promoted where I lived, and since the public high school had a not-so-good reputation, most of the parents in the area gladly sent their boys there. The richer ones sent their junior- high-school boys here, to spare them the trauma of changing their whole social scene at the critical age of 14--which I was doing. But I didn't feel any trauma. I was relieved I wouldn't be boarding here without friends--it would be very strange to suddenly live in a dormitory with a bunch of boys I didn't know, but the idea of sleeping in close quarters with my friends warmed my insides. You would think I'd be concerned with the weird rules, joining a team, adjusting to dorm life, learning my way through the maze of hallways, acquainting myself with the work, my teachers, and meeting lots of other boys my age--but no. I worried that my penis would harden when least expected, and that others would see. I blushed just thinking about that, and would become the embarrassed recipient of odd stares from my classmates should they happen to notice the color in my face. The thought of being naked in gym class terrified me. I took a seat at a back corner of the room and waited for the first bell to ring. Some of the boys, I knew from junior high. My eyes could not help scanning the room to find the outstanding ones--the good-lookers, the strong, the athletic boys-- wondering what sports they played or how they looked when naked in the locker room--a habit that had cropped up recently. I enjoyed this but always felt an odd tension. My only real experience with this sort of face-and-body spying was at the playground or the beach the past summer. But I adjusted quickly to the new venue. Looking at the guys in this class was more fuel than my little boy-stick needed to begin its familiar stiffening, and since it had been growing lately, the feel of the spongy head pressing hard into my underwear was more startling than ever. By the time the teacher arrived, I was absorbed with faces, haircuts, eyes, the shape of lips, ears, hands, bulges--too much to concentrate on the lesson. Roll call was mandatory, so I had a kind of free interim to stare further at whatever caught my fancy. The boy nearest me turned and spoke. "Hi, Kevin," he said, glad to see a familiar face, I assumed. "Hi," I said quietly, nodding and smiling nervously at him. I couldn't think of his name. We knew each other from Mountainville Junior High, though we weren't close. I wondered if he saw what I'd been doing. I was always afraid a fellow student would catch me staring and say nasty things afterward. To tell the truth, I was just looking--aware that I craved something without knowing what it was. My parents were so overprotective, I hadn't socialized the way I should have, except for friends I made from the track team at my junior high school-- the locker room socializing often substantial and generally polite, notably at a comfortable volume compared to the football or basketball guys. So I wasn't totally isolated, but knew very few sex words except the nicknames for penis, and what bits of adolescent banter yielded a few coherent terms when we showered or traveled together. The terms I didn't know, I ignored and didn't ask questions. Questions always alerted others of your interests, and I was smart enough to avoid that. But when I played with little Kevin at night, mental pictures of my classmates' faces and bodies became an exciting backdrop for my self-pleasuring--that and the indelible memory of one of the cutest boys in my class getting up to answer a question with a tent in his pants--causing a rare minute of silence as the rest of us blushed sympathetically. The rude sound of a book falling flat to the floor took me back to the present. Leaning back in my seat and slumping, I was able to see the legs of most of the other boys and became aware of the oversized desks. Surely, these were meant for the giants I'd seen in the hallways, as there was a great distance between the tops of thighs and the undersides of the desks. This welcome perspective and potential for viewing other boys' private moments gave a sudden impulse to little Kevin's rise to fullness. It aroused me to see the length of my dick pressing against the cloth of my pants-leg. The tip of it sent messages that relief would be needed soon each time it throbbed up and tried to stretch my pants. I thought about switching to briefs, but this was too much fun. With the heel of my hand, I slid over the hardness, pushing it down and petting it at the same time. I felt the heat rise to my face and was glad to be at the back of the room where no one would notice the redness in my cheeks. Kyle Wonderly, the smallest of the boys my age that I knew from my former school and one of my favorites because of his good looks, arrived just before the bell rang. Having seen me, Kyle hurried to the back of the classroom and sat to my right. His was a full, friendly smile that invigorated me. I wondered if he noticed the crimson in my cheeks. We whispered our hellos while I thought he was fortunate that his name was near the very end of the alphabet. We were good friends. We'd changed a bit over the summer, it seemed, but neither of us gained much weight or height, although I was noticeably taller than Kyle. Kyle's face was more fascinating now for some reason, though I'd seen him often during the summer break. Maybe he was blushing a little, I couldn't tell. My dad said that 14 is the age a boy changes the most. Being the only boy in my household, I yearned to talk with him about my body and sexual issues, but I didn't dare. Even if sex was an open topic at my house and I did dare, I could never tell my dad that I found myself looking at boys all the time (and I was slowly discovering that). I was glad my family was loving and old- fashioned because I learned a lot of great things--but sex was not one of them. There was something about the seat of Kyle's pants that caught my eye as he sat. Odd, I thought. I seldom looked there when sizing up a boy, and I could fathom shape nor texture that had seized my attention--other than I had seen Kyle more or less naked a few times dressing for gym class, and had a fair image of his back end, less clothing. I don't think I saw any of them fully naked. We were all freshman and 14 years old, a few were 13--and it was no secret that sudden erections were common at our age. It was no secret to everyone but me--I had great powers of non-observation. Despite the evidence in the locker room, I was surely the only boy with that problem. I thought I got hard because I liked boys--something I admitted to myself before the end of the first day of school. This evidence in the locker room had a subtlety that added to my excitement. Because of our unexpected and frequent arousal, all sorts of strange practices emerged for hiding one's crotch while managing to undress and put on jockstrap and gym shorts. A well- bent-over posture with your back to your locker or a towel strategically placed usually did the job of keeping a penis out of sight. Some of the bigger 14-year-olds let it all hang out, but very few--and even these covered up if they were hard. Curiously, the presence of a towel in front of a boy revealed the thing he wanted to hide--that he was erect. This kept little Kevin very busy trying to become as big as possible, so I did my own red-faced towel maneuvers until I donned the first article of clothing--thankful for the tight pull of the jockstrap that squashed my penis against my body. A movement to my right brought me out of my thoughts. Till then, I hadn't noticed Kyle bending to pick up a paper he'd dropped. But I did see him glance under my desk as he straightened up, smiling sheepishly at me. We both knew what he'd seen, and his grinning blushing face so enthralled me that I forgot my own embarrassment for a moment. I suppose to Kyle, with a brother and two sports commitments, seeing a bulge in another boy's pants wasn't a major event. If I had known, I wouldn't have felt I'd be better off sinking into a hole--although his friendly face compensated. Not having the advantage of a brother, I had to figure things out on my own. I got it wrong most of the time and gave significance to the insignificant, making me deficient in the important aspects of a boy's life, but I kept working at that. Kyle was small for 14, but there was a look to his face, a maturity maybe, that told me he was old enough to go home and play with himself and shoot off, like I did. Little Kevin signaled his agreement by nodding. I wondered how all that would work out in the dorm. It wouldn't have the privacy of home, but I imagined it would be easy to find a place to do it. As I settled in, pretending to listen to the lesson, I saw several private moments of my classmates--hands sliding repeatedly beneath the desks, fingers grasping stubborn protrusions, faces reddening. Each of these visuals put me deeper into a gut-wrenching need to shoot off, while also suffering from an urgent need to see their bulges in the flesh--a need that I could not explain at the time and tugged at my insides. I knew enough not to walk up to a boy and ask him to undress. Other than that, I was hard put to find a way to satisfy my intense curiosity. One boy, Phillip Benton, had the audacity to slide his hand inside his clothing--the sight of his subtle slow movements causing some moisture to flow from little Kevin as he tried to rip through my pants. I half-seriously wondered if I could die from an over- stiff boner and lack of release. I contemplated shooting off in a stall in the boys room, but I never did during my freshman year. Kyle sat too close for me to have a direct view of his lap. When I leaned to the left and down, I caught glimpses, but I was too distracted by Phillip to give Kyle much attention. Phillip, one of the few 13-year-olds in my freshman group of friends, began to squirm, and I thought the teacher would notice. But I was grateful this was not to be. I came out of my daze, having heard a change in the teacher's voice--that familiar tone they all use when asking a question directly to a student, an occasion that, at this school, called for the boy to stand up. My mind became numb fearing the question was directed at me. But it was Kyle who had that distinction. He arose with great hesitation, instantly alerting me to his problem. I thought I might be wrong, but all doubts disappeared when he stood, and I looked to the side directly into a very bulging pair of pants-- protruding right at the fly--one of the most obvious boners I'd ever seen. Little Kyle must have been big, his erection stood out so prominently. I felt sorry for Kyle as more and more boys turned in their seats to see him answer the question--and I was hard put to even know what the question was. I died a little, watching his crimson face darken as the others got a direct look at the big problem in Kyle's pants. By then, I was throbbing. He stammered for a moment but answered correctly. The teacher nodded, quickly motioning for him to sit down. But the damage was done. I imagined Kyle would fold his arms and lay his head down in total embarrassment. Instead, he turned and grinned at me as if the whole thing were a game. I felt my eyes widen at his mischievous smile--indignant that he did not take his penis seriously nor show discomfort having had it on such intense public display. I felt the humiliation *for* him. It took a while to calm myself so that I could again scan under desks for the private attentions the others gave to the general region of their upper legs and hips. The activity excited me intensely--my mind would go blank, my dick hard, and I felt a warmth between my legs. This was all new to me. The year before, I was just a boy, keeping to myself, wishing for more friends and things to do--and a dick wasn't anything to think about. Everything changed when I got closer to my 14th birthday, and a penis became the center of my attention--as long as it belonged to a good-looking boy. At night, I focused on little Kevin while reviewing what I had seen in school. During the day, I could not stop thinking about another boy's pole--'member,' I had read in the encyclopedia. The 'male member' this, the 'male member' that. I never got over my first wrong impression that they were talking about a club. But it was always one penis at a time--until much later, when I progressed in my carnal thinking to the incredible fantasy of a group of naked boys in various poses, usually standing. My favorite was a large number of naked boys, all lined up for me to inspect. And I was bold about my fantasies--the absurdity of them never crossed my mind. But the dream never included an inspection, as I hadn't yet advanced to the point of knowing what I would do, actually. I wasn't sure I liked this new fascination because it made me nervous staring at other boys and took up a lot of my time, but it was too fascinating and exciting to ignore. I didn't know anything but to look at them, feel funny down there, and think about them at night. Like most boys, I suppose, I had discovered that persistence pays off when you rub your penis a certain way. While the teacher busied himself at the blackboard, lecturing constantly, a movement caught my eye. I turned to see Kyle staring at me with his most impish grin--and I gasped when my eyes traveled down his slumped body. The moment he saw me looking, his eyes brightened. I was staring at Kyle Wonderly's naked penis--stone hard. He held a book in front of it, so that only half the book could be seen above the desk, the bottom snuggled under his balls and resting on his thighs. I thought little Kevin was wet, but that was nothing compared to the glistening coat on Kyle's pole. He shook it, tapping it against the book, and grinned again-- proud of the thing that looked to be at least twice the size of mine, and proud of himself for his boldness, I supposed, from the look on his face. His penis was beautiful. I wondered if he would leave stains on the book. I found myself aroused, afraid, intimidated, all at once. I loved that he played with himself, touching his long shaft, looking down at his dick, turning and grinning--putting on a show just for me. But I felt envy because I was taller and bigger than Kyle, and the proud owner of a dick half that size. Jealousy faded as a dream was coming true, and for the first time, I saw an erect penis in the flesh, with Kyle grinning happily while I stared--little Kevin bouncing, and big Kevin trying not to drool. Even though Kyle was making a game of it, this was a major fantasy in the flesh--the welcome sight of an angel-faced boy such as Kyle inviting me to look at his most private part. Hard or soft didn't matter, but hard was nice. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and aroused me tremendously. And how did I react? Not at all as I thought I would. After my initial response, getting totally horny, I was afraid--afraid that he would see how he thrilled me--that he would know the depth of my enjoyment, and that all my pleasure would turn against me in the form of Kyle's anger and disgust. Kyle was one of my closest friends. You would think I could have joined in with his playfulness--grin and giggle back at him-- but no. This was serious stuff to me. I was too immature to run slipshod over the taboo, and fear took the place of youthful abandon. Kyle seemed disappointed in my response until I managed to overcome my fear and force a grin. I suppose I had enough compassion that I felt obligated to give him some satisfaction for his efforts. There *was* pleasure on my part--the view of his naked boyhood aroused me like nothing else, and that deepened my grin for a moment. Just when I thought the teacher had seen my smile and would ask me to stand up to explain, a blushing boy came in late--Shawn McNair, of all people. He had run in the wrong direction after all, and blushed worse when he saw me. I gulped, wondering what awful fate would meet him now. "I'm glad you could join us, Mister McNair," Mr. Foley said dryly, making me shiver. It didn't help Shawn's case that he looked disheveled, perhaps from wandering about, looking for his classroom and sweating. "I'm sorry, sir. I got lost." That was another weird thing about this school--these were grown men teaching us--we were 14, and they called us, 'Mister.' We had to call them, 'sir.' I started to think the school was built on weirdness. Maybe all private schools were that way. "Sit down, Mister McNair, while I decide your punishment." Punishment! Even the word angered me. It was unsettling enough that they memorized our pictures and names before the start of the school year--I had hoped for a week of anonymity--but it was pure agony to me, knowing that Shawn would be punished, and I could be, too, for lateness, even when I couldn't help being late. I was very nervous for Shawn. I liked him, and felt he didn't deserve to be punished for being confused in a new building and getting lost. Especially on the first day. "Five strokes," Mr. Foley said. I had no idea what he meant, except that my dad gave me strokes of a hairbrush when he punished me--but surely the teacher didn't intend to actually hit Shawn with anything. All the boys that had been here before, we discovered through cleverly overheard conversations, and while they never named the punishments, they said they were very mild here, and no one got hurt. That knowledge didn't slow my heart, which pounded in sympathy for Shawn. Up to that time, I was never interested in current events, so I didn't know our state had passed new laws a few years ago that allowed for more liberal discipline in the high schools, nor that private institutions such as Thurber Boys Academy were generally stricter than the average school. The law didn't permit anything gross or very painful. Later, I would find out that the state limited all spankings to the butt and issued lightweight rulers and yardsticks to each school, while banning all other implements except the hand. The overall result was slightly more frequent punishments, but the level of pain was too low to be taken seriously. "Should I send him to the Principal?" Foley asked, looking up at us, "Or give him his punishment in front of the class?" "The class," most of them said. I was too nervous to speak. Kyle put his hand on his forehead and looked down at his desk despairingly. Shawn turned purple. The teacher summoned Shawn to the front of the room. I was outraged that the other boys snickered--as if Shawn's punishment were something to laugh about. I didn't know that my brain lacked something that made me seriously out of touch with my peers. I was stupid that way, but great at schoolwork. I was more angry now. A punishment in front of the class? Why couldn't he say, "See me after school in my office."? I wasn't one to cuss, but in my mind I was thinking, 'This is bullshit.' "You don't know the procedure, do you?" Foley said, knowing that was true. Shawn was as new to the school as I was. "No, sir." "Lower your trousers and underwear to your knees. Put your hands behind your neck, bend over, rest your head against the blackboard for balance." My jaw dropped in shock as I rebelled and thought they couldn't do this sort of thing to us. To my way of thinking he'd told Shawn to get naked. Astonished murmurs and more snickering drifted across the room. As much as I yearned to see Shawn naked, I didn't want it to be *this* way. Shawn wanted it over with, so he moved quickly. In seconds, I saw his bare butt. Little Kevin jumped up with excitement. I don't know why, but the sight of Shawn's naked butt sticking out nearly took me over the top. It was always the other side of a boy that held my interest. Shawn's rear end was very white and smooth, like it had an innocence of its own. Most of us weren't old enough to have hair on our butts. The wispy layer of blond hair on his legs caught the light and sparkled. His pale hairless globes were a nice contrast, and I began to get the idea that a boy's back end could be sexy to look at. I still couldn't believe Foley was actually going to hit him. The whole punishment thing was ridiculous, and the way Foley went about it frightened me. I was relieved when he picked up a yardstick. I knew that wouldn't hurt much because my dad used to punish me with one, but I also knew it made a loud sound when it struck. Shawn was stiffly bent over with his head dutifully against the board when Foley spoke. "Straighten up, boy. Turn toward the class. Let everyone get a good look at the face of the wrongdoer." I blushed really badly at the thought of Shawn and what was about to happen. I thought it was terrible that he had to keep his hands behind his head. They didn't need to have painful punishments--they embarrassed a boy to death. Shawn's face, nice as it was, would not be the object of my attentions, I thought, as my lust overcame a pang of guilt. Poor Shawn, naked in front of us with his long, limp penis front and center--very sexy-looking and much bigger than mine, as Kyle's was--but my fear of Shawn's punishment took away most of the pleasure of seeing a handsome athletic boy half naked. My heart pounded in sympathy for him. At least he wasn't hard. There was something sexy about his pants at his knees that I didn't understand. Little Kevin did. My heart raced as Shawn blushed--his face, ears, even his neck, a fiery red. More whispers floated about, but Foley quieted them. "Turn around and bend now, Mister McNair," the teacher said. "Spread your legs wider." That did it--my dick drooled and made a wet spot. But that was the least of my concerns. My eyes focused more intently on Shawn's crotch. I could see his balls through his legs--and beyond that, the tip of his dick. I petted little Kevin gently, praying he would not shoot. I had never encountered this view of a boy before and was amazed that I could see his privates while looking at him from behind. Foley called up four boys to steady Shawn. I thought that was ridiculous. I took lots of yardstick spankings at home and never needed support. Two knelt and had to hold his knees; the other two each took an arm. The four hesitant boys were as red-faced as Shawn, but the cute boy about to be whacked blushed worse than ever when the others put their hands on him. I could see a little of his face from the side. The first whack was louder than I'd anticipated. Shawn gave a shout of surprise. My eyes flew shut hoping to block out the humiliation for Shawn, but little Kevin liked this for some reason. The next four seemed louder yet, but Shawn was quiet. Knowing from experience that the yardstick hurt very little saved me from falling apart--and saved Shawn a lot of embarrassment. I yelled when I got the hairbrush at home--but there is something instinctively humiliating about shouting in pain in front of other guys your age, especially your friends. From my seat, I could see more of Shawn than the boys who had only a straight-on view. When I looked again, I saw his penis hard. Probably the other boys touching him made that happen. "Oh, now you've given your classmates something to look at, Mister McNair," Foley said as Shawn stood up, squirming oddly. "Do keep you hands behind your head and face them." I was enraged. He made the poor kid turn around and stay that way for the next five minutes while he continued to lecture. I tried not to look but couldn't resist looking at such a cute boy with his dick hard and hands behind his head. Like me, Shawn was 14, but much taller and sexier. I noticed the blushes and bulges of the four helpers as they returned to their desks. Did that mean there were others besides me that liked seeing a naked boy's penis? I wasn't convinced. Though I wasn't raised that way, I knew most boys were taught to think of it as something dirty. I tried to think of ways to see boys naked without having to sneak peeks in the showers, but that effort was unsuccessful. A deep sigh came from my right. I knew it was Kyle. I guess I wasn't that shocked to see him stroking his dick, but very surprised and excited. I petted little Kevin like mad. Kyle stopped just as I thought he might shoot his stuff. "Later," he mouthed, a finger pointing discreetly at me, his eyes meeting mine. This confused, shocked, and scared me. Kyle turned around to face front before I could answer--not that I could think of anything to say while he jiggled the book that held his dick for my benefit. I didn't need to say anything, content as I was staring at his erection, which took on the look of a big weight laid against the pages to keep them open. More of the clear fluid spilled out. I couldn't stop being bothered by "Later," spoken as if Kyle knew what excited me and was going to help me get what I wanted. I didn't know what I wanted, myself. "Later" haunted me. I also didn't know this kind of subtle, sexual accusation was a common joke among boys, an accepted means of teasing. I thought he'd found me out and was serious. While I felt excited by the latter, I was mortified by the former. I wasn't sure what Kyle had discovered about me but was convinced I hadn't revealed my deep secret. That didn't ease my fear. Embarrassment and fear always overruled everything else in my mind. When my head cleared, I wondered what we would do, or could do, if we actually met later. That mystery heightened my arousal rather than lessened it. Surely, if there was something we could do, it would be exciting and wonderful--and forbidden. I jumped out of my skin when the bell rang. I remained seated, surprised to find myself panting--and to find Kyle doing the same, staring at me as he fingered the wetness at the tip of his penis. Eventually, he stuffed his big boy parts into his pants and buttoned up. I don't know if there is such a thing as a sexual smirk, but that's how Kyle's face looked to me. The shape of his lips at that moment had my juices flowing. I began to hope Kyle would join the track team. I was imagining us all in the shower--and dying of curiosity to see how many other boys might stare at Kyle's big boyhood. But I was miserable, knowing instinctively that Kyle wasn't serious about meeting later. I convinced myself he wanted to meet me, and would if it weren't for some hidden reason--something beyond my grasp. This mystery bothered me. I would have felt such relief if I'd only known enough to say, 'Sure. What time later?' and laugh it off as a big joke. I gave this subject a lot of thought and concluded that, even knowing that a boy might be joking, I could not bring myself to refuse his invitation. Everything sexual was very important and serious by default. I didn't like the weakness that I saw in myself. By some method, I would get myself on the other side of this--to be so heavily involved with boys and sex that there could be no question of invitations or insecurity. I was convinced that if Kyle, or even Shawn, were interested in seeing a dick, they would not hesitate to say so and pursue it. Not many more days would pass before I saw the folly of my thoughts. Kyle's turning head took me out of my daze. "Everyone's gone. Wanna see it again?" he said with the wide- eyed excitement of a boy half his age--his mouth half-full of spit, the liquid clicks of his tongue bouncing off the walls and little droplets flying into the air as he spoke. Maybe Kyle was drooling for sex? Did I make him horny? No, it couldn't be. "Sure," I said softly, weakly--but I'd said it. I'd made my decision and voiced it, feeling quite proud of myself. Did I want to see it again? I'd take it to my room if I could. My heart pounded, and I think I drooled as Kyle pulled his zipper down, opened his pants, and struggled with his underwear-- gulping sensually--his eyes on mine the whole time. He finally pulled the underwear down because it was too hard to get his dick out through the fly. His hands trembled a bit. "You like it, don't ya?" he said confidently as he pointed his beautiful weapon at me, his hands at his sides, his hard flesh echoing his heartbeat. I nodded, unable to speak with my mouth open and limp with fascination. I was enchanted with the thing. A throb in my chest rose to my throat and made it difficult to breathe. I thought it was cute, the way he stared at it. "Yeah, I can tell," he said, smiling warmly. "You know where my room is. Stop by around four o'clock." "No joke?" I asked, anticipating a painful rejection, wondering where I got the courage to speak up. "I swear, Kevin," he said with a yearning look, kneeling beside my desk, deliberately sliding his warm hand on my leg. I believed him. I stared at the spot where he'd touched me. "Okay," I said, dreading the embarrassment I would feel-- knocking at the door of Kyle's room, knowing I was there to see his penis. Again I nodded, this time wiping drool from my chin. "You really DO like it," Kyle said quietly, stuffing everything back into his pants--grinning and taking off for his next class. Mine was a study hall. I took a deep breath and let it out as I sat down at one of many tables in the large room. The look of Kyle's face loomed large in my mind's eye. I saw sincerity in it. Soon I was scanning, my eyes darting about, mostly at the laps and faces of the better-looking boys. I felt more relaxed here and enjoyed myself as I went from face to face, lap to lap. I wondered how many other 14-year-olds did this--some hope building that there *were* others--and gulped with a pang of guilt. A subtle voice in my head said, 'I wonder how many other 14-year- olds have as much FUN as you.' This I accepted and eagerly renewed my efforts. Something caught my eye. Across the aisle to my right, two rows down, I saw Shawn McNair, slumped sensually in his seat, his athletic legs nearly bursting the seams of his pants, and his thumb busily sliding over the length of his erection. Although Shawn was one of the 14-year-olds that put my dick to shame--I felt a connection to him, a sort of equality. Being in track saved me from oblivion because my light weight helped my speed, and I was good. That gave me something to my credit. Shawn was in track, too, and the only boy whose dick I'd seen naked and hard. That memory did nothing to calm little Kevin. I wondered if he still felt embarrassed or would cringe to look any of us in the eye after his little classroom spanking. Since I was at the back of the room, I took a hint from Phillip Benton and put my hand inside my underpants. I was careful not to shoot, but I played with little Kevin like never before--and he liked the looks of Shawn pleasuring himself. I loved looking at him, but wondered what I would do with him if I had the chance. The question of what I wanted bothered me so much at that point, I had to resolve it. I decided that I would love to be up close to a boy like Shawn and watch while he played with himself and shot his stuff. I remembered a day in the shower room after an away track meet at Alvedo Junior High, when Shawn McNair suddenly stood out to me. He was one of the few boys who were really tall and had a dick way bigger than the rest of us--and a decent-sized bush around it. I stared. I wasn't aware of sex at that time, except I knew when I touched my penis it felt good. I always liked being in the shower room when it was full of steam. It gave me a comforting, secure feeling. I was glad they had a separate shower for the visiting team. "Hey Shawn--are you sure you're only fourteen?" Steve Ashton said. He was one of the taller boys on our team whose dick hadn't caught up with his height--it was small, like mine--but Steve was a big boy. There was no way for me to know if Steve was serious or joking. Because I had that same question in the back of my mind, I thought Steve was serious. Shawn was caught off guard. "Um--yeah," he said, blushing suddenly. Along with the blush, Shawn's penis started to grow. Little Kevin started to grow, too, as my eyes locked on Shawn's big thing thickening and lengthening, not ten feet from where I stood, and wished I could have a dick as nice as his. I found myself feeling admiration for it, and another emotion I couldn't identify. I had no idea I was standing there with a boner. Shawn noticed and gave me a weak grin. "Hey, Kevin!" Steve said with a naughty grin, obviously in a playful mood, distracting me from Shawn. "Are you thinking about your girlfriend?" "No," I said, not realizing this would cause everyone to laugh at me. "Hey, guys," Steve continued, "it must be US. Kevin likes our cocks. Do you like mine, Kevin?" I never blushed so badly in my life. Steve was making fun of me and a few of the other boys joined in. I was so nervous and embarrassed, I didn't know what to say or even if I *could* say anything, so I stayed quiet. "Look at his bone, man. He likes my cock." I felt so bad, I turned to face the wall. "Okay, that's enough," I heard Shawn say. He was the biggest guy on our team, and I think when he spoke up, the other boys realized Steve had gone too far. It was quiet in the shower room, and while facing the wall, I hopefully imagined all the guys leaving with a pang of remorse. I was still hard, but the silence led me to turn around and rinse off. Shawn and I were the only ones left. I was grateful for his help, but still red-faced as I looked up at him. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Sorry about that," Shawn said. His look of regret turned to a grin. "Thanks," I said, my curiosity aroused at the sight of him naked and looking all around, like a boy about to raid the cookie jar. He was getting hard again. I'll never forget the look on Shawn's face as he tugged on his cock and grinned at me as he left the shower room. I grabbed my towel to hide my bone and went to my locker, thrilled, scared, and confused. Did I imagine it? Was I making too much of it? I slipped into a daydream and pictured myself boldly going up to Shawn, asking if he wanted to play naked. By the time I woke from my thoughts and realized I was in high school sitting in a study hall, my dick was so hard, it hurt--and I was never so glad to be in the back of a room. I resumed looking at Shawn in the flesh, drooling over the long cylinder outlined in his pants. Another movement distracted me from Shawn. Off to my left, I saw Jamie Weller, a small boy I vaguely knew from the upper grade school that connected with my junior-high building. I was glad to see another familiar face in this big building that held high- school and junior-high students, but surprised to see they had us mixed together in this study hall. The classrooms were in separate areas, and the junior high has its own lunch room. Knowing how sexy Shawn was and that he was the type of boy that excited me--he could easily pass for 15--I didn't hold out much hope for any interesting visuals from Jamie. Watching Jamie was more of a curiosity. Something about his face and petite size fascinated me for the moment. Jamie shifted in his seat. His young age made me wonder if he even knew what was causing him to squirm, his little penis bulging with each movement. Little Kevin encouraged me to keep looking. Because Jamie was small and thin, I got bold thoughts--maybe because I felt safe--that he probably couldn't get the upper hand if it came to a fight. I imagined the two of us alone and naked. I would be brave, touch his penis, and make him feel those good things. That was the first time I had thought of touching another boy there. Little Kevin went crazy over that. I lost my breath when Jamie looked at me, very aware that I was staring at his lap. He blushed immediately and giggled. When Jamie saw my erection sticking up, trying to break through my pants, he put his hand to his mouth and continued his quiet laughter. He carried his jacket quite skillfully, I thought, as he went to the desk and got a hall pass. I knew he was going to the boys room and could not stop myself from following him. I also couldn't walk fast enough--each leg seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. I felt a tremble in my body and was glad I had my notebook to hide little Kevin from prying eyes. "Oh," Jamie said, gasping as I walked into the boys room. As he stood stiffly at the urinal, I could see his erection, the odd way he held it, and his deep blush. These thrilled me along with his charming sway, as he shifted from foot to foot. I stood to his left, having figured out this would put my right hand nearest the good parts. My bravery continued. I stared openly at his little penis, conscious of my every move as I smiled and looked down at him. Jamie looked too nervous to smile, probably never having had a boy pursue him and stare at his dick--a very erect dick. The size didn't matter--his hardness was a sexual icon that oozed male arousal. Inspired by Jamie's erection, my own penis jerked upward, desperate for hardness, as if tuned in to Jamie's sexual wavelength where soft was forbidden. I'm sure it was clear to him that I liked what I saw. Little Kevin was on his way up. The boy managed a tentative smile. "Does it feel good?" I asked, staring at his rampant stiffness --whispering softly lest I frighten him. I knew if I scared him away, he might go running to a teacher and get me in deep trouble. That terrified me. "No. Well--sometimes. It feels weird now. Hurts a little." His answer made my dick throb. I worried when he said it hurt. Then it made sense--this was probably the stiffest boner he ever had, it was so red and brittle-looking. "I know how to make it feel good," I said warmly, giving Jamie a friendly smile while my guts shook with fear. I had made my move and there was no taking it back--despite my lack of hands-on experience with another boy's penis. "Feel good?" he said, baffled. "Yeah. I can make it feel really good." I knew how to make *my* dick feel good, so why not his? "How?" Jamie said, his innocent brown eyes nearly pleading, making my heart pound. "Well--can I show you?" I replied, moving my hand in the general direction of his privates. "Okay," he said with a simplicity and openness that aroused me. Suddenly, he looked very young, and I became doubtful. "I . . . I want to, Jamie--but . . . I don't know if I should-- if I should be the one to show you." He looked 9 years old, so I had second thoughts, even though I was sure he was 12. "Please, please--don't say no." Jamie gritted his teeth--his reddening face anxious. "Well--" "I've seen other boys whip it out in here, and I always look . . . because . . . it just looks so good," he said, obviously pouring his heart out--telling me a deep secret while his fingers did a little dance on his stiff red cock. That reminded me to pull out my own half-erection. If I hadn't been nervous, I'm sure it would have been hard. "Whew, that's better," I said, pretending to be relaxed. I felt little Kevin stiffen. Jamie's eyes went wide. "God! It's big," he said, open mouthed, his eyes fixed on little Kevin. It was the first time anyone had talked about my dick and said it was big. It got rock hard. He'd said he'd peeked before--that cocks looked good. I could relate to that. "This'll feel really good," I said, staying on course, bringing my hand into contact with another boy's penis for the first time. A pulsation went through me from head to toe. Trembling, I slid my fingers back and forth loosely, rhythmically, while loving the feel of his hot flesh in my hand. I don't remember ever being as stiff as Jamie was. "Oh . . . OH!" he said, his knees weakening, his body convulsing as he bent at the waist. The flush in his cute face gave him an irresistible, erotic look. I steadied him, maintaining my gentle stroking, amazed at the strong throbs that made his little dick jump. The tip of it poking the palm of my hand had the strength of a thumb, and pushed my hand away. The heat of it was incredible. I got a better grasp on the hot thing. "Ahhh!" he said, trying to whisper discreetly as I felt a few moist drops fall to my hand. "Feel good?" "Yeurff!" The kid's knees failed completely, his penis expelled more drops of a thin, cloudy liquid. I rushed to grab Jamie around the waist to keep him from falling. "Don't stop," he said. Knowing exactly how he felt, I tightened my grip around his bouncing cock and resumed stroking--amazed that he had more liquid to give me. I was sure I would shoot just from the feel of his hot boyhood in my hand, and the equally hot liquid that coated and lubricated hand and penis. When I stroked Jamie full-fisted with his own juice, the boy howled. Two streams of stuff shot out of him, striking the urinal noisily--impressing me and taking little Kevin to his limit. I needed to shoot badly, but time was running out. And I was having too much fun with a boy's dick throbbing in my hand, loving the feel and look of his stuff. "Wow," I said, shaking, but proud of myself that I could make a boy do that and amazed with Jamie's shooting ability. More than that, it felt like the start of a new chapter in my life. "Oh . . . oh . . . . Do it again," he said, panting, his boyish voice sounding much younger than his twelve or thirteen years, but loaded with sexual need, thrilling me. I couldn't imagine doing it again to little Kevin so soon. What did Jamie have that I didn't have? I looked at my watch. "There's no time, Jamie. Besides, we haven't peed yet." "I don't care," he said hoarsely and grabbed my dick. He did his best to stroke it and grinned up at me, looking for approval, I think. I gave him the encouragement he wanted, smiling back at him, putting an arm around his shoulders. He was very serious about stroking me, his own penis still hard and suddenly jumping wildly-- a sight that made me drool. Little Kevin loved Jamie's hot hand. "Ooo, that's good," I said--not sure myself whether I meant his stroking my dick or the hot look of his penis bouncing. The warning bell ended our fun. We went to separate stalls to pee. Still panting, we retrieved our things from the study hall, blushing with stubborn excitement. The study-hall teacher eyed us oddly, but seeing our smiles, gave us a grin as she left. We had honored the rules and got back before the second bell. School was done for the day. I pictured the hallways packed with boys and wondered what it would be like if I were at my locker just then. "I wanna do it again," Jamie said boldly, but his enchanting bashfulness and giggling soon overshadowed his brazen attempt. His cute manner encouraged me and had a novelty that became a new attraction for me. Little Kevin throbbed with need. "Okay. Whenever you want and I'm available," I said, whispering and putting a finger to my lips. "I made you feel good?" I loved the way he blushed at everything I said. "Yeah, awesome. What about you when--" "You made my dick feel . . . better than it ever has. But this was your first time, and you have some catching up to do--so I'll do it to YOU a lot. "Cool." "How old are you?" Even though I knew Jamie by sight from my old school, I knew nothing about him. "Twelve. I'll be thirteen next month." At least I had that much right. "You're in eighth grade?" "Yeah. Do you like my penis?" he said, grinning excitedly and bubbling with giggles when he said 'penis.' "Yeah. I love it. It's strong and manly looking. So, you like to say that word, 'penis?'" "Well--" he said, blushing cutely, "I don't get to say it a lot, but I like to call it that." "Yeah--me, too," I said, wishing we were alone again. "Awesome." He made me feel like I was the only other boy who liked that word. "So this was your first time?" I knew it was, but wasn't sure exactly a first time for what--except for some nice touching and Jamie shooting--feeling I had reached a landmark, but not knowing what the landmark was. As much as I'd enjoyed what happened, I still felt in the dark. "Yeah. What about you?" he asked sweetly. "My first time, too." "But . . . you're fourteen--a freshman, right?" he said, surprised at my lack of experience. "Yes." I hoped my virgin status didn't disappoint the kid. "Wow. A big boy's first time," Jamie said wistfully. "And it was with me. You picked me." "Yeah. How'd you know?" I said, ashamed that he knew, relieved he wasn't abandoning me for more fertile territory. "You followed me. I loved it when you walked in, but I was so scared in there." So, the giggling kid was luring me--a very arousing thought. "You looked really excited," I said softly, approvingly, yet baffled at my strong attraction to a smaller boy. "'Cause my penis was hard?" He giggled again. "Yes. Really hard." "You wanna come to my room? It's right next to the gym." That was a good location for the younger boys dorm. It was close to the main buildings and they wouldn't have far to walk. "I'd love to, Jamie--but I promised a boy I'd help him study after school today." I lied, not wanting to tell him I was hoping Kyle and I could do what I'd just done with Jamie. "Could you come over later?" "Sure," I said with a smile, knowing how good it felt to play with him this way. He gave me dorm and room number, but looked disappointed as he walked off. I hoped he wasn't thinking I didn't like him. I practically ran to my dorm, where I hoped Kyle would be. I had to carry my books in front to hide little Kevin. I gulped just before I knocked, the idea coming back to me that I was visiting a boy to see his dick. I was glad it was one student to a room. Kyle looked cool and sounded very friendly when he opened the door with a smile. That made me feel better about this. "Hey, Kevin--glad you made it." "Thanks." It wasn't so bad that Kyle's penis was much bigger than mine --a fact burned into my brain from the show he gave me in class. I was told about boys developing at different ages. But because I knew the size of his dick, it was hard for me to think of him as a kid my age--even though Kyle was small. He also seemed to act very mature in some ways. The more I looked at him, the more I thought of him as an older boy. "I just dusted off my swimming trophies," Kyle said as he led me to his bookcase. "I'm nervous," I said, admiring the great number of trophies. "Don't be. We're alone. You're safe here with me," Kyle said, putting a big trophy down and turning to me. I want you to feel safe, okay?" "Okay. Your trophies are cool." There he was, acting even more mature than I ever did. I stared into eyes that had such warmth, they melted me. Kyle moved in so close, our belt-buckles touched. "Just, 'okay?'" he said, putting his hands behind me, his mouth forming a smile that actually calmed me. Kyle was waking up something in my head that wiped out my tension. I felt protected. That made me more horny. It was strange to have a kid as small as Kyle affect me that way. But it made it easier to say whatever came to mind. "No, Kyle--not just okay," I said, gaining confidence, smiling at him. I exhaled and felt more relaxed. "I feel totally . . . not just safe. I don't know, like you're really glad I'm here." I wished he'd just take his dick out. "Yes," he said, pulling me to him, electrifying little Kevin when his bulge pressed in. "I want you." His words, the sound of his voice, the look on his face--I saw fireworks. That's when he kissed me. Everything swirled around while Kyle's soft warm lips pressed into mine until we were squirming. I had a natural instinct to press little Kevin into him. Subtle moves of his lips took me on a sexy journey inside my body until I was dizzy. Why hadn't we done this before? "Oh," I said, thrilled and excited beyond anything I'd imagined, "that was fantastic." Kyle looked very pleased, and that encouraged me. I didn't know the exact meaning of, 'I want you,' but whatever it was, I couldn't wait to experience it. "I want you to feel good. To like what happens here." "Oh God, Kyle." My knees went weak. "I never felt so good." "Whoa," he said, seeing me wobbling on my feet, helping me to the bed. I loved what he'd just done, and felt very cared for as I lay there on my back. Kyle knelt beside the bed, bending over me, looking so concerned. "Whoa?" I said, baffled. "I thought you were gonna fall. You're really sweet, Kev. Are you okay?" "Way okay." "Mmm, that's good." I reached up and pulled him to me. Somehow, he knew what I wanted and slowly moved in to kiss me again. I was kissing him back this time. "Wow. That was my first--I mean, I never . . . oh, man!" Even though it was our second kiss, I had the feeling we both thought of them as one big kiss. "Your first kiss?" he said with the biggest brightest grin. "My first really great kiss." Then he stood. I loved looking at his body from this position- -flat on my back. He looked tall that way. It wasn't like he was showing off--Kyle just had a big bulge. The really cool part, for me, was that I'd already seen what makes that bulge in the flesh and could picture it. I also couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. I gave it a little squeeze and rubbed it gently. I've watched my own penis jump, I'd seen and felt Jamie's dick throb--but nothing matched the power and speed of Kyle's erection thrusting his jeans out suddenly. "You make me hard, so fast," he said, stroking my hair as I sat up. I saw so many things in his eyes--warmth, caring, a hint of mischief. And something else I knew nothing about, but it had me feeling warm all over. "I want to see this," I said, rubbing his bulge again. At the same time, I squeezed my boner to make it more obvious in my pants. "I wanna see THAT, too," Kyle said, staring at my little cylinder. He undid his belt and top button. Then he leaned in, and I loved feeling the heat of him in my face. I thought he was going to do more, but he stayed that way. It had never occurred to me to undress a boy or take his penis out, but that's what Kyle's body was telling me. And he was standing--I thought that was sexy. "You want ME to . . . do the rest?" "Sure. If you want to." My hands shook as they went to his zipper. I felt little Kevin give a throb as I pulled it down. "I never did this before. Can I--" "Sshh. Don't ask. Do what you want." "Your brother goes here, right?" I said, feeling the need to talk for some reason. "Haha, yeah. He's over there in the next room. My dad saw to that," Kyle said with a grin, pointing to the far wall. I did it slowly--pushing his jeans and underwear down at the same time. I was careful to pull everything forward so I wouldn't hurt his penis--it was so hard. When I got his pants down a bit more, his erection flew up at me. I thought I knew what Kyle's dick looked like from his daring antics in the classroom, but it had a new look now--a beauty and perfection that left me stunned and very aroused. I held it, touching it with my fingertips as I admired his hardness. It seemed larger than it had been in the classroom. With both hands, I held his big penis with reverence, staring into it like a worshipper expecting wisdom and inspiration to flow forth; desiring to take it in and have its knowledge and strength a permanent part of me. "It's beautiful," I said, barely getting the words out through the fantastic elation that gripped me. I looked up at Kyle, shaken with the combination of my thoughts and his organ's mysterious, mesmerizing appeal--without the slightest notion that having made the penis the center of my attention, I was open to the idea of making it a god that I worshipped constantly. And I was a very willing idolater. "Thank you," he said. "You're beautiful too, Kevin." "Ohh." I was more moaning than speaking. There was magic in the air--his words and his cock--and I began to pant. "Stand up, Kev, so I can do that to you." Kyle took my hand and helped me up, sensing that I was still shaky. I felt a bond of friendship with Kyle that I had with no other boy. "Ooo!" I exclaimed. This had never happened before--hands not my own unzipping me and handling my underwear, pulling them down for me--and it was overwhelming. The sight of him dizzied me--kneeling in front of me, with my dick sticking out at him. I had pictured myself on my knees, watching his big pole bounce, but the sight of Kyle kneeling and staring at my cock stirred me almost as much. I thought of Shawn and hoped I could do this with him someday. We pulled the rest of our clothes off, and in seconds we were two naked boys. With both of us standing toe to toe, it seemed natural to put my hands on his ribs. Being naked together was new- -and very exciting. Kyle seemed to know what he wanted and suddenly went to his knees. "Can I suck it?" he said, sitting on his bed, looking up at me, his warm hand on little Kevin and his mouth so close--with me leaning to one side to catch a glimpse of the pole of flesh I wanted so badly. "I . . . I don't know what that is." That was another thing that made me think of Kyle as an older boy--he knew so much. "Sweet baby," he said, hugging my thighs and kissing them. "Okay. We can do that another time." He looked very happy that I didn't know about this. That's when his hands made love to little Kevin. "Oh . . . oh! I'm gonna--" "That's good, Kevin. Let it happen." "Urrrrrr. Afff!" He held my legs while I shot like I never had before, his fingers doing a dance that made me explode. My stuff hit him in the face, but I was having a thrill so intense, nothing else registered as that special feeling took over. The last thing I remember before I closed my eyes is Kyle's contented smile as my stuff splattered his lips and chin. When I opened my eyes, his face was covered with it. I wasn't sure this was a good thing. "Oh, God--what I did to your face!" "Mmmm, you're hot!" Kyle said, shocking me when he licked my stuff off his lips. "IT'S hot." There was so much of it on his face. As he sat on the bed, he helped me sit down next to him. I wasn't sure what 'hot' was. I was too dazed to speak, and very taken with what he'd done to me. I looked on as he brought a finger to his face, slid it through my stuff, and licked it off. "Oh, man!" I finally said, not daring to say how stunned I was that he put his finger in his mouth. "You taste awesome, Kev." That's when I saw the head of Kyle's penis, all shiny with the clear stuff. It excited me. I knew it was a good thing but still felt uneasy that he put my stuff in his mouth. "I can't believe you did that." "What--made you come?" "Um--I don't know that word." Kyle's face changed to a more angelic look. "Baby, sweet baby," he said, laying me down, leaning over me and rubbing my face so gently. "You're so beautiful and innocent. Honest, Kevin--I feel like I'm--I don't know, it's like maybe I shouldn't teach you these things. I thought he'd already showed me everything. It was a rerun of what I'd said to Jamie. "Okay, but--I really want to learn." It was a wonderful feeling--me on my back, with Kyle sitting, leaning over me. "When you shoot your stuff, that's coming." "Oh, okay. No, when I came it was awesome, but I didn't mean that. I meant . . . I was surprised you put my stuff in your mouth." I finally got the courage to say it. "Oh, that's pretty common," he said, wiping more from his face and licking it from his finger. "Mmm. The taste of you isn't common though." Kyle had a big smile. "Did you ever taste your cum?" "What?" My face scrunched up in confusion. "Cum is your semen--the stuff that shoots out." "Oh." I was real hesitant to taste my own cum, but Kyle was so happy with it, I took my finger and slid some off his face. I shut my eyes and put my finger in my mouth. "That was quick. How is it?" "Nice. Sorta creamy. Nothing like what I expected." "Cool. If I were you, I'd eat it all, every time I jerked off. You taste really good, Kevin," Kyle said, getting more and slurping it. "Uh, oh," he said, seeing my baffled expression. "What do you call it when you keep touching your dick and you come?" "Playing with it . . . or rubbing it, I guess." "That's what jerking off is. And I'm horny--that's what you feel when you wanna come." "Okay," I said with a big grin, happy that I learned some new words. "Let me do it to you." I surprised myself with my boldness. "Oh, yeah," he said, climbing in next to me. Something snapped. My fears all disappeared. I knew I could tell Kyle anything. I reached for his dick, but Kyle was staring at mine like he saw something interesting. "Something wrong?" I said, not thinking anything was actually wrong. "No. I see more cum. That always happens, some just drips out after a while." "Oh--yeah." By that time, Kyle was kneeling, his knees between my legs. "I want to lick it off. Is that all right?" "You wanna . . . put your tongue on it?" "Yeah," he said with a grin. "Okay." I no sooner said that when his tongue swept across the head of my dick. "AHH!" I screamed while little Kevin jumped a million times. "That felt so good, but--" "Intense?" "Yeah! You got that other stuff coming out," I said, staring hungrily at his penis. "Can I lick it?" "Yes--if you're sure you want to." "Oh, yeah," I said, already on my knees, bending over Kyle's big erection. I had to think a minute. I didn't let it show, but I felt this was a big step for me--tasting a dick for the first time. As soon as my tongue touched his cock, I was thrilled. It was so alive, hard and warm, and that stuff was delicious. Kyle squealed. My new god pleased me more than I'd expected. "That was good, Kev. Did you like it?" "I loved it. I never did that before." He had me so relaxed, I loved just saying what I felt. Our eyes met, and I knew right away we would kiss. It was a hot kiss, long and powerful, as if Kyle were making a ceremony of it--maybe his way of saying he knew the big step I just took. Kyle and little Kyle took my breath away. "I got something else to show you--if you want." "Yeah," I said, trading places with him quickly. "I'm gonna lick some more stuff off you. This time I'll spread my lips on your dick." "Okay," I said, tremendously excited, my heart pounding. Kyle licked the end of little Kevin's tip, and when he spread his lips, they slid over the whole head. "Oh God, URRFF!" I was on fire. "Oh, yeah--you're hot, all right." "Does that mean . . . sexy?" I said, panting. "Yep." Then Kyle got a strange look on his face. He knelt and played with his penis. That's when it hit me that Kyle needed to come. I'd forgotten. "Can you come when someone does that?" I said, my dick tingling like crazy. I wanted to shoot again. I remembered the word. We were both horny, but Kyle needed it bad. I hoped I was right. "Oh, yeah." "Let me do that to you," I said, eager to have more contact with his penis. "Ooo, yeah." In a second we scrambled for position. Kyle stood up as I sat on the bed drooling, lusting after him. His frantic penis, the throbbing long shaft and dripping head, waited patiently while I slid to my knees--the only right pose for the proper adoration of its beauty and strength. I ran my fingers through the manly hairs that protected my god, causing twitches in Kyle's abdomen and legs. I didn't think this time, the subtle scent of his reddened cock beckoned me to press my lips on the anxious thing and let them slide over the tip and glory in its heat and hardness. For the first time, I had a boy's penis in my mouth, or part of one. It seemed natural to slide my lips further and take in about half of little Kyle. "Oh, oh! Kevin! You're sucking it!" I had a feeling that's what sucking meant. "It's so good," I said, already feeling I wanted to do more of this. Maybe it was addictive. I didn't have to think about the next part and slid my lips up and down Kyle's penis. They way it pulsated and contracted--such a live response--made me keep doing it. Little Kevin was going nuts, like this was being done to *him.* "Easy," Kyle said, holding my head, "I'm gonna come any second." "Okay." "But I'll shoot in your mouth if you keep going." "Is that okay?" "Oh, yeah. That's the best, but--" "I wanna do it the best way." Now, I couldn't wait to make a boy come with my mouth. And Kyle of all people, the cutest, gentlest boy I knew. I kept sliding up and down, totally thrilled with Kyle's dick--the way it kept throbbing. Suddenly, I wished I could swallow it whole. "Ohhhh, YEAH!" he screamed. I wasn't ready for a sudden blast of stuff, and most of the first stream leaked out, but then I was ready. I wanted his cum. I swallowed while I pumped Kyle's big dick with my mouth. I wished he would come forever, I loved the feel of it so much. Kyle moaned so sensually, my cock swelled with desire. His convulsive bend forward, hands finding my shoulders to support his body, the weight of him pressing his squirting penis deeper into the mouth that welcomed it--exploded in the culmination of everything sexual as I pressed my fingers into his tight butt while Kyle shot his guts into me. As I thrilled to the taste of him and the fantastic feel of raw male craving and energy--the exquisite sensation of making a boy come and actually feeling it squirt in my mouth--my hand slipped to his balls. Strangely, sporadic images of Shawn and Jamie flashed in my head as Kyle shouted and squirmed. "Oh, YES!" he screamed, and a giant blast of stuff shot into me. He grabbed my shoulders, pawing me. Instinctively, I knew he was telling me he liked it--the incredible force of the hot liquid etching my tongue proof of his ecstasy. This was thrilling, something momentous--so primal and intimate--a boy feeding me the stuff of his life because I gave his manhood its ultimate pleasure and brought him to a frenzy of convulsions with my lips and tongue--my sore knees meager testament to my efforts as the prize of his cum warmed my throat until it rested safely in my stomach, where I would absorb him and have him forever. I was never so aroused and stunned in my life. Now, with the feel of heaven in my heart and the taste of Kyle fresh in my mouth- -I knew. I had found true significance. *This* is what I wanted with a boy. I couldn't wait to get to Jamie. Dennis Banneker Any comments would be great! StoriesNew@yahoo.com Kevin-hhdays/ch 1/W-rm 1.9 Find my other stories under STORIESNEW in Nifty's author section. I have a more detailed story list that I will post later. If you'd like to see it now, go to High School, Crazy for Chad, chapter 18 (the latest chapter as of 27 Sept. 2006). The following will help me write a better chapter. If you can, tell me what you liked. If you're at a loss for words, tell me what I left out that you wanted to see. Also, if you find that chapters like this are too long, or anything that's not right, please tell me. I'm a friendly guy, sort of like Kevin. :-) --Dennis StoriesNew@Yahoo.com __________________________ A NOTE FOR MY U.K. READERS SCHOOL SYSTEM: Subtract five from the student's age in September to get the 'Grade' he is in. A 6-year-old attends 1st grade; 14-year-old, 9th grade, etc. Very often, 7th and 8th grades are in a separate building called junior high school. Otherwise, Grade School (also called Grammar School) encompasses grades 1 through 8. There is some variation: some junior-high schools include the 6th grade, others, the 9th. Traditionally, high school spans grades 9 through 12. It can be said that a student is "in the 9th grade, 10th grade," etc., but more often these grades are called: 9 - Freshman year / Entering age: 14 10 - Sophomore / 15 11 - Junior / 16 12 - Senior / 17 (most are 18 years old at graduation) Typically, in speech: "I'm in my Freshman year," or, "I'm a Freshman/Sophomore, etc." This applies to all four years. Private schools actually are privately owned and funded, and while these must operate within state laws, they normally act independently of many government mandates for schools. Public schools, available through the 12th grade, are wholly funded and operated by local and state governments. What is normally called 'university' in Europe, is usually called 'College' in the US. Entering students are traditionally 18 years old. --Dennis StoriesNew@Yahoo.com