Date: Sun, 12 Aug 2018 08:39:23 -0400
From: George DeCarlo
Subject: A Gay Boy's High School Years - Chapter 1

       It was that boy on the cover of some Fantasy book series that I
can't remember. It was the way his hazelnut brown widow's peak waved in the
wind as he stood on the cliff wielding a sword with his left hand. His
attire was modern, worn-down jeans and some rock band shirt. But it was his
face that really got me. His facial features so boyish, just not like a
girls.

       "I want to kiss you." I thought. "I want to be there with you on
this cliff as you put your hand on my cheek like they do in the movies and
just kiss me and never stop." I think 12-year-old me wanted to be in that
moment with him forever. I always knew there was something I felt about
boys that other boys just didn't feel. But it was at that moment I knew
that things would never be the same again.

       That was in middle school, and once freshman year began three years
later, I had two words to describe these feelings. Two little words that
terrified the living shit out of me. "I'm gay". I knew I was. I just had no
idea what to make of it. What to do with it. Was I really supposed to live
out the rest of my life as a ... gay ... man? I just couldn't. There was no
way I'd ever be comfortable with it.

       I figured that maybe I'd just focus on school and not think about
it. My grades had sort of tanked with my constant thinking about my
sexuality (and boys, god, the boys in this school) , so I decided to find a
tutor through our school's peer tutoring program. But when I met my him, I
realized that my grades would be the last thing I thought about.

       He emailed me and told me to meet him in the library after school. I
had expected some scrawny nerdy little kid. Who else would tutor other
people in their free time? Right then, I heard the library door open and
close. When I saw the boy who entered my heart started pounding faster. He
was tall, definitely over 6 foot. He was wearing a Polo shirt that defined
his muscles; he probably played some kind of sport. His skin was olive tan,
and he had some kind of boy-next-door charm that had me in some sort of
trance. Who was this boy? I saw his deep brown eyes scan the room until he
sees me. He comes up and asks me "Hey, are you Jason?" Still mesmerized by
him, I only managed to nod.

       "My name is Frank. I'm the tutor assigned to you." He said, with a
smile that could melt me right there. I gulped, thinking about how I could
keep my cool when this God of a man was next to me. Tall, tan, and
handsome. Dear lord. For the next hour or so, we went through my subjects,
talking natural selection, complementary and supplementary angles, and
Shakespearean poetry. I, of course, couldn't pay any attention to such
boring topics when I could smell his man musk mixed in with some (probably)
Axe deodorant and hear the attractive tone of his deep but calming
voice. He occasionally threw in some jokes that actually weren't corny as
fuck and made me giggle. I couldn't help that I had a hard-on the whole
time. He was basically a gay boy's wet dream come alive.

       "Well I certainly hope that was helpful, Jason." He said with a mix
of friendliness and formality. He got up and held out his hand for a
handshake. Shit! I need to get rid of this boner. Quick, think of
... uh... dead puppies everywhere! And surprisingly it worked. I got up
holding one of my notebooks in my left hand covering my still semi-hard
dick and my right hand shaking his firm grip. "You know where to reach me
if you want another session. Are your parents going to come pick you up
now?"

       "My mom's coming in like an hour and a half, after she gets off from
work." I responded.

       "Well, if you don't have anything to do, you wanna come with me to
football practice? They need me there." He said. I thought about it in my
mind. Do I really want to watch a bunch of hunky boys showing off their
physique? Um, yes, I do.

       We walked to the football locker room, and quite a long walk it
was. It was almost on the opposite side of this huge school. We talked
about our families and our classes (though he already knew mine) and
whatever else came to mind. I learned his full name was Frank Rica. He's a
junior and a wide-receiver on the football team.

       "So... you play football and tutor people? You've got it all!" I
joked, and he laughed too, which made me happy.

       "No dude, not really. I just know how awkward it is to be a high
school freshman. And I want to do what I can and help them." He said. There
was a pause before he continued. "Which is pretty much why I'm still
talking to you."

       My heart stopped. Was I boring him? What did I do wrong? I think he
realized I was flustered by that comment.

       "Not that I don't want to. I actually think you're pretty cool,
dude." He nudged me a little and I felt his strong arm brushing mine. I may
or may not have blushed a little after he said that.

       "All I'm saying is that if you ever need anyone to talk to about
anything, here I am." He pointed both thumbs at himself and gave me that
smile again. I turned away knowing I was blushing for sure this time.

       "Anyways, here we are." He said. He opened the door, and I walked
inside. He walked over to his locker, #88. Immediately, I was met by what
seemed like the smell of hundreds of men. The musk lingered through the air
mixed with the rustiness of the room. And again I felt the stirring in my
pants. The room had lockers on three sides, a door that goes out to the
tennis fields, and another one in between two rows of lockers. I could
clearly see the other team member's clothing lined up on the floor beside
their lockers. I could only imagine what this room looks like after a
victory. Shirtless muscled guys cheering, dicks out everywhere. I could
close my eyes and feel the testosterone in the air. Shit! I'm getting a
boner again. This day is just too much for me. I need to get out of here.

       "Hey, uh, I need to go." I said, when I opened my eyes and realized
he had taken his shirt off. His body was amazing, muscled, but not too
bulky. His arms, still to his side, thick with strength, and his abs, while
not an eight-pack, were just barely visible. He was lean and strong at the
same time. I couldn't even avert my eyes. I could only stare in awe.

       "Is there something wrong?" He asked as he began to remove his
jeans. There he was. He was wearing a jockstrap! That entire time he was
tutoring me. It was white and I could see the outline of his dick through
the fabric. The head was clearly visible and so was some of the length. The
balls held the majority of the space in the pouch, though, and they must've
been huge. He truly was a god among men.

       "No, I just... I should really see if my mom is here. I need to, uh,
take out the dishes? And wash the trash. I'll see you tomorrow." I ran
right out of that locker room and straight to the nearest bathroom. By this
time, my boner was full-fledged, straining again my pants. I took it out,
closed my eyes and pictured myself in the locker room. I got absolutely
lost in this fantasy.

       The masculine odor of the room still fresh in my mind. It's night
time. And the Wolverines had just won their state championship game. Frank
comes back to the locker room, far before any of the other players. He
forcefully opens the door and walks straight toward me. My back is lined up
against his locker as if I was waiting for him. "We won." He said in a
rushed voice. He took off his pads and helmet off and walked straight up to
me. His hair wasn't spiked up at the front like it usually was. It looked
unkempt and sweaty, his whole body was covered in sweat, effort, and man
odor.  When he walks up to me, he immediately puts one arm around my back
and one around my neck and pushes me into a passionate kiss, so hard that
you could hear my body slam into the locker. I could smell the dirt and
sweat on him, some of it rubbing off on me. I didn't care. It just made it
hotter. After he let the kiss go, he went right back for my neck, leaning
his head in, leaving hickeys all over and pressing his body into mine.

       "What if someone sees us?" I ask him, only managing to get out the
words through my gasps. But it was no use, he was clearly on a
testosterone-fueled victory high.

       "I don't care. I want you. Now." He deepened his voice into a growl
for the last part, and it turned me on like no other. I felt his dick
hardening to impossibly large size in his football pants, pre-cum forming a
wet spot at the tip and dampening the whiteness. He looked into my eyes as
though telling me to do something. I understood. I got down and untied his
football pants, pulling his huge member out. The jockstrap pouch couldn't
even contain it. I played with it a little, stunned by how he can play such
a rough sport with this monster tucked away in his jock. I could see him
tilt his head backward as I sucked it in and out.

       "Fuuuuuuckkk" He moaned. I could tell his dick was throbbing and he
was close. "Stop, I don't want to cum just yet. I'm want to share this
victory with you. I want you to feel like a champion. I'm gonna fuck you so
fucking hard." He whispered into my ear, making me shiver. I nodded like I
understood and turned around, my hands reaching to grab the holes in the
two adjacent lockers.

       "No, not like that." He turned me around, picked me up, backed me
against his locker and planted another kiss onto my lips. "I want to look
into your eyes as I fuck you." He said. He put his dick into my ass, only
about 2 inches at first. But it was thick. I slammed my fist into the
locker next to me and groaned. He kept going, and eventually, the whole
thing was in there. It was so huge that it felt like I had another
organ. He kept fucking me, in and out, my arms around his back the whole
time. He groaned while I whimpered, both of us in ecstasy. Anybody near the
locker room knew what was going on in here.
       "Jason." He said. I looked at him. "Jason, I'm gonna cum."

       "Me too" I replied, my voice shaky.

       "God, I love you." He said right before he pushed me into another
kiss and shot his load deep inside me as I shot mine, deep groaning into
the kiss.

       Suddenly, I couldn't smell the musk of the locker room anymore. I
couldn't feel his dick inside me or the warmth of his body, or the taste of
his salty sweat. I opened my eyes to find that I was sitting down by a
toilet in a stall. My hand still wrapped around my cock. Cum all over my
body. The fantasy had faded away. Thus began this gay boy's high school
years.