Date: Fri, 21 Apr 2000 00:53:32 -0400 From: Tim Sanders Subject: Seventh-Grade-April-Fools Chapter 1 / Installment #1 I can remember the beginning of my eighth grade year. I had just come out of the closet, and suddenly after 7 years of being `just like everybody else', people were suddenly beginning to take interest in me. In the town that I live in, gay is considered to be socially acceptable but at the same time is extremely uncommon. I was the only openly gay kid in my entire town, and I was only in eighth grade, so I knew that I was in for something. But nevertheless, I was very happy the way I was. I've never really had a whole lot of guy friends, for some reason I've always had better friendships with girls. But the few guy friends I had very extremely loyal and couldn't be better. I could talk to them about anything. Like the first time I met Chris. Chris was a grade younger than I -- For some reason, I'd never even taken notice that he was even existent. But my eighth grade year changed all that. That November, I had my schedule changed to be in an advanced music class for kids in grades 7 through 9. I would've joined sooner, but I never got along with the music teacher. But this year, there was a new one, so I finally got my chance. It was about 2 weeks before Christmas break, and I went into my first band rehearsal. My dumb-ass sister Jessica was late getting us both to school, so naturally when I walked in during warm ups, everyone took notice. Then, I had to wait for Miss Saunders to get me my music while the rest of the band whispered, "when did he join band?" and other questions of that nature. After receiving my music and folder, I went to my spot -- Third seat back in the forth row. Among the others in the class were two of my good girl friends, Heather and Kate, one of my few guy friends named Justin (whom I rarely spoke to outside school), and a bunch of seventh graders. These seventh graders were three of the `cool preps', whom I didn't dare associate with unless I didn't have to; I'm good at making friends and I'm well outspoken, but for some reason certain people sometimes just intimidate me. This was one of those times. The seventh graders' names were Nick, Ryan, and of course, Chris. It astounded me that someone as good looking as Chris would've never caught my eye before, especially in a small town like mine where there is only one school, and `everyone knows everyone'. But now all 40 minutes of music class was spent sitting right behind Chris, staring at his gorgeous body. He was a very small kid, just barely pushing 5 feet high in 7th grade. His voice was higher than a typical boy's his age, but I for some reason found it to be sexy. His deep blue, almost gray eyes mesmerized me the few times I caught glimpses of them. His hair was a dirty blonde, almost light brown with natural light highlights that gleamed so nicely in the lights of the music room. Christmas vacation finally came. It was two weeks this year, and might I add very well deserved. I went to my cousin Nicole's house for Christmas with the rest of my family like we do every year, and it was fun. But I could not stop thinking of Chris. My wishful thinking went on for a few months, until April fools day. It was April first again, and it's very routine for my friends and I to play pranks. This day, one of my pranks was I had to call Chris and ask him out for my friend Heather (incase you're wondering, yes, the same Heather who plays the clarinet). I quickly accepted this challenge, as it would give me a chance to talk with him mano-e-mano. Not one single one of my friends knew that I liked Chris, and I wanted to keep it that way. I told them I'd do it when I got home. When I got home, I don't think I've eaten so fast in my life. I grabbed something snacky from the cupboard and scarfed it down fast. Then, I went into my room, closed and locked the door. My friend Anna had given me Chris' number, so I pulled it out of my pocket, and began to dial. I've never really been one to sit and plan what I'm going to say ahead of time, but when I heard a voice pick up, my throat suddenly went dry. "Uh, hi, is Chris there?" "Yes, hold on a minute, who's calling?" I assume it was his sister as she didn't sound very motherly. "Uh, it's Dewey." "Ok, Dewey. Let me get him." While waiting I kept asking myself, `why didn't I use someone else's name, why, why, why?.' I could hear in the background his sister say, "Chris, telephone. It's Dewey." I'm naturally the only Dewey in my town as well as the only openly gay child. My heart sank when I heard his reaction. In the background, I heard him say, "Dewey?" in a very melodramatic surprised tone. He picked up the phone, "Hello?" "Uh, hi, Chris, this is Dewey Rosenthal. I needed to call and ask you something." "Yeah?" The curiosity in his voice was almost too much to bear. "Would you go out with Heather Long?" He laughed. "Heather Long? Are you kidding? I dated her last year, never again, never, never, never!" "How come, Chris?" "Oh, I don't know. You've dated one, you've dated them all. The girls at our school don't even interest me anymore." "Uh, me either?" I said it as though it were a question, but it also possessed very obvious sarcasm. "Funny, Dewey, funny. But anyways, it's April fools day. I want to talk to Heather, ok?" That sounded reasonable. "Ok, do you want her phone number?" I didn't want the conversation to end, but I had to be as polite as possible. "Nah, I've got that, I want to meet face to face. But not like at the Pizzeria downtown or anything. Somewhere more private." I was almost too eager. "You two can use my house, my Mom's helping her friend Kathy paint her kitchen tonight, so she won't be back until way late." How appropriate, April fools on a Friday evening. "Ok, that sounds good. Will you call up Heather and tell her to come to your house around eightish?" "Sure that sounds good, do you need directions?" "No, you live near Kyle, I know where you live. Oh, and don't tell her I'm coming. Just like ask her over to watch a DVD or something." "Ok, I'll see you at eight." "Bye." My heart was pounding. I couldn't believe, Chris, the kid who I've fantasized about for so long was actually going to be at my house, in person. This was way too much. I had so much to do; it was 7:15, and I had to shower and dress nicer than I was now, do my hair, the whole nine yards. I was going to impress this kid. Finally, after much waiting and even more rushing, eight rolled around and I heard a knock on the door. I ran by the mirror on my living room wall really fast just to make sure I looked ok, then I proceeded to answer the door. It was Chris. "Hey, Chris." "Hey, Dewey. What time is Heather getting here?" My face must've gone pure white. I'd forgotten to call her I was so excited. Chris must've caught onto this by my face. "What she can't come?" Whew! He thought she couldn't come. That meant I could still get out of this alive. "I don't know, I called her but she wasn't home. I left a message on her machine." "Oh, I see. Well, that's ok. We can always just chill here I guess till she calls." "Ok, that's fine. You like Sony Playstation?" "Hell yeah!" His face lit up and within seconds it seems we both were in my room with controllers in our hands. Chris was very into racing games, which was good because I've never been big on fighting and killing games like Resident Evil or anything. So we played Rally Cross for what seemed like 10 minutes, but turned out to be an hour. At that point, Chris decided he was tired of Playstation. "Oh, damn." "What?" I was now asking with just as much curiosity as he had shown on the phone only hours earlier. "Oh, nothing. Just can't stop itching myself today. I don't know why, I'm just all sweaty." "Yeah, I know the feeling." I couldn't help but try and glance at his package, his hands adjusting it. I didn't want him to see me looking though; that was the last thing I needed. I don't know weather or not he caught me, but even still he said, "Oh, God, it's beginning to bother me." "I hate when that happens," I said with concern. "I just got the biggest urge to jerk off." After he said that, his face went bright red. He sheepishly said, "Oh my God, did I just say that out loud? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that." He was acting as though I minded the comment. Everyone says stuff like that now and then `out of context' to the wrong person. "That's fine, I don't mind. You don't need to be embarrassed." "Yeah, it's just that I just didn't mean to say it." "Still, it's ok. And since you said it, you obviously meant it. I don't' mind if you do, I can leave." "Really, you wouldn't mind?" "Nah, not at all. I'll go get something to eat." "No, you don't have to leave." My mouth must've dropped or something, because Chris could sense that I wanted to stay. I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. "Ok, then." "Well, no. You can't just sit. Haven't you ever jacked off with one of your friends? I do it with Jason all the time." "No, I can't say I've done that. How's it work? Do you both just jerk off at the same time?" "Well, that could work, but another way is we both can jerk each other off, of something like that." My boner was now rising to its max of 8 inches. I was hoping to God my pants weren't tenting. I tried to stay calm when I spoke. "Ok, that sounds cool." He most definitely wasn't lying about what he said. As he took his pants off, I could see the outline of his dick, which appeared to be about equal to my size. He was definitely sweaty and hard. When his pants were totally off, and he was there, wearing nothing but his flannel Polo boxers and an Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt, I couldn't help but stare. I told myself I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. I had spent so long staring at him in band, and now here he was on my bed half naked, sweaty, and hard. It was like a dream come true. I guess he caught on to my staring, which wasn't hard because I was being very obvious about it, and he spoke. "Dewey?" Damn, he had to break my trans. I couldn't help but stare at his hot body, wondering how much more I'd get to see. "What?" Chris then said something I never expected. "Uh, aren't you going to take off your pants and stuff?" Now I was getting excited. This time I tried my very best not to show it on my face, and I must've succeeded. "Oh, yeah, what was I thinking?" As I took off my pants, I tried to hide my hardon underneath the bottom of my shirt. I glimpsed up at Chris' face; he was staring at my balls. But when he saw me look at him, he turned his head quickly. By this point, we were both down to a T-shirt and some boxers, which was making me very sweaty and horny. I went and laid opposite of Chris. He was already running his hands up and down his dick through his boxers. I started to do the same, when to my surprise, he took his other hand, and brought my hand over to his dick. He then started grabbing and massaging my cock. I couldn't believe it; we were actually rubbing each other's dicks! We went on like this for a few minutes, when I finally decided to be brave and make the next move. I brought my hand up to his navel, then back down again so I was inside his boxers. He didn't care at all, he gave out a sigh of relief. Then, as I was hoping, he returned the favor. He put his hand down my pants and began to play with my balls. It was awesome. "Wow, Dewey, this is good," Chris said. "Yeah, I'm liking it," I responded with emphasis. "We should make this more interesting, though," he ordered. "Like instead of just jerking each other off while pretending we're actually doing something else, maybe we shouldn't just pretend." I've never been good with words, but I thought Chris was asking me to have sex with him. I didn't take long to figure out that was exactly what he meant. Almost immediately after he said that, he turned over and was on top of me. I could feel his dick and mine touching, with only our boxers in between them. As I stared at him on top of me, I could see his eyes, how they've always mesmerized me. Just then, as I was staring into them, he went down, and kissed me. I had no trouble kissing him back. He put his arms around me as we laid in my bed, passionately kissing one another. He obviously had a lot of experience, he was very good at it. The feeling of his tongue inside my mouth made me tickle all over. As we were climaxing in our kissing, Chris decided to make things even more interesting. He then ran his lips down my chest, and started licking my nipples. It was so great, I was letting out little moans of joy. After a few minutes of doing that, which I enjoyed every single second of, he then went to my other nipple and treated it with the exact same amount of pleasure. One of his hands led it's way down to play with my balls, while the other one rubbed all his saliva all over my chest. Chris got up, "Dewey, you ever get a blow job before?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing, though I was loving it. "No," was all I could manage to get out. He then gave me a sinister little smile and pressed his lips back down on my chest. He then ran them down slowly and passionately until he got to the top of my boxers. He then gripped them with his teeth and pulled them off using only his mouth. My dick laid there on my stomach, hard as could be. I decided to take off my shirt, so now I'd be totally naked. Chris obviously liked the idea because he began to take off his shirt. That's when I spoke up. "No, Chris, let me." I wanted nothing more than to feel his body all over. I kneeled on my bed right in front of him, and placed my hands on his pecks. You could tell that besides playing the clarinet he also worked out. His body was very sweaty and hard, and I could feel the contours of his body through his wet Abercrombie shirt. I, unlike him, didn't waste any time. I ripped his shirt off of him to reveal his body. He was now down to his boxers, which I pulled of quickly. After I saw his penis, I couldn't stop staring. It was beautiful. I was guessing about 8" in length, and it was very thick. I couldn't stand the temptation of looking at his hot sexy body, how it was well defined. I decided to make the first move. I leaned toward him, and grabbed his penis in my hand. I then got in front of him, and put his prick into my mouth. He let out a loud sigh of pleasure as I ran my mouth up and down his shaft, massaging it gently but passionately with my tongue. I moved up and down, taking almost all 8 inches, though it was hard to do without gagging, it was so big. With one of my hands, I started running it up and down his torso as I sucked his dick. I began rubbing and massaging his chest and nipples with my hand. His dick stated twitching. He interrupted the silence. "Oh, Dewey! Dewey, I want you!" He spun me around on top of him to put us in the 69 position. Almost within and instant, he stuck my dick into his mouth, and started giving me my first blowjob. Even with his dick in my mouth I was able to moan a sigh of pleasure from the blowjob he was giving me. After about 2 more minutes of doing this, Chris took my dick out of his mouth. "Dewey, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" He sure was! He shot his load into my mouth. There was so much that I couldn't swallow it fast enough, it dripped out of my mouth and all over my face. I let his now softening dick out of my mouth as I cleaned up the rest of his boyjuice. I loved every minute of it. When he was done, he turned me over, and concentrated on giving me a great blowjob. His moist lips would soften the outside while his tongue would move around on the inside, playing with my head. His left hand was playing with my balls, while his right hand was probing my ass. I let out a loud moan of relief. It was great, but it was too much to bear. "Chris, I'm gonna' cum!" That didn't stop him. He just started going even harder and faster than before, making my erection HUGE! It, like his, was too much to take, and I could see my cum dripping out of his mouth as he unsuccessfully tried to swallow it all. When we were done, we put our clothes back on and laid next to each other in bed. "Did you like it?" he asked me. I answered him by pulling him into a liplock. When I released, I said, "Yeah, I did, Chris." He pulled me back into our kiss. It was a kiss that was only the beginning of what was yet to come.