Date: Thu, 16 Aug 2018 14:54:55 -0400
From: George DeCarlo
Subject: A Gay Boy's High School Years - Chapter 3

	I woke up the next morning at around 6:30 P.M. I couldn't even
fathom what happened last night. It was so animalistic, I can't even
describe it. It was like Frank was fucking me. This boy, this man, this God
has given me jack off material for years to come. I put on a sweatshirt and
jeans and walked downstairs. I took a look at the underwear I wore
yesterday, the white-yellow stain still clearly visible.

	I walked downstairs to find Frank already there. He was on his
laptop and looked like he was writing something for school.  "Look who's
up." Frank said. He closed his laptop and put it in his backpack. He then
got up and poured himself some milk and cereal. "Want some?"

	"No" I told him, "I'll just get something to eat at school." He
gestured towards me to come over and take a seat with him. I obliged.

	"So about last night..." He trailed off and started to laugh a
little bit. He looked up at me to see me patiently waiting him to finish
that sentence.

	"I'm still not gay, dude," he chuckled. So did I. I didn't expect
my fantasy to suddenly come true. "So why did you do that last night? You
sure as hell know how to get a gay boy worked up." I joked, but I wanted a
real answer. He sighed a bit, but then he got serious and delivered one.

	"I did that for you." He said and scooped up some cereal from the
milk and ate it. He continued, "I did that, so you can explore your
sexuality. Figure out what you like and don't like. Don't be afraid to.
Believe me, I was like this just a few years ago, ya know, except for girls
instead of guys." I nodded and looked down like I understood. Later Waverly
got up, and we all got ready and got in the car.

	"We just need to pick someone up before we go to school. You may
have seen him before. He's actually the quarterback of the team." Frank
said, turning into a cul de sac. And I did recognize him. I saw him
yesterday when I went to talk with Frank at football practice. I think he
was #11, if I remember correctly. He was tall, well over 6 feet, definitely
taller than Frank. I'd guess he's around 6'5". And he wasn't too skinny
either. He had blonde hair in a layer cut. I learned that his name was Mark
Ball. God was he hot too.

************************

*About a month ago from Mark's perspective*

	This was insane. I can't believe I was doing this here. I just took
a picture of Frank, who was sitting on the seat across from me on the
bus. We were going to Ridgewood High to play them, our rivals, but I can't
stop thinking about Frank. Jesus, he looks so fucking hot right now. I knew
these pants wouldn't be able to hide my enormous boner, but I can't stop. I
palmed my balls through my pants and gave them a tight squeeze, all the
while looking down at the picture of Frank.

	"What are you doing over there, Mark?" John Rowe from two rows down
asked slyly.

	"Fixing up my pants from riding up dick." I replied, joking it off.

	"He's fingering his vagina!" I heard from the seat in front of me.

	"Pezuti, shut up." I roll my eyes at him. Then there was
silence. And I stroked my dick through these pants harder. Harder and
faster until it grew to its full massive size. Oh God. Oh Frank. I just let
the cum shoot out into my pants. Some of it leaked out of the seams but
nobody would notice anything as the pants were white themselves.

************************

	We arrived at school and said goodbye as we each headed to our
classes. I thought about what Frank said on my way to gym class. To explore
my sexuality. I think hanging out with him for barely a few days has
already made me more confident. How could I explore my sexuality? With
whom? I've watched gay pornos in secret before, does that count? My
favorite one is Sizing Up. I think the locker room scene is not only hot as
fuck, but the fact that it was vintage only made it hotter. Something about
thinking about gay men from a time before me is just so... I can't even
describe it.

	And so many gay guys really do have a locker room jock fetish don't
they? I mean, why wouldn't we? Their confidence in contrast to our silence,
their bodies, the smell, the feel, the taste, it's all there. Especially in
the 80s, I mean, how else would you "explore your sexuality" besides jocks
and their jockstraps and locker rooms. I also really liked the busboys in
Eating Out or the poolboys in Deep End, or even the stable boys in Hung
Like a Horse. I can't get enough. "I'm horny. I need release." As one of
those porn stars said.

	But if he means to "explore" with other guys, then who are my
options? I guess it would have to be with the boys in my own grade. There's
Dan Pilsbury, who's on the basketball team. He's skinny and tall, but he's
cute I guess. I can't even imagine what kind of hot shit goes on in the
basketball locker room. There's also Griffin Rocco, who's on the wrestling
team. His body is lean with muscle, and his ass is always outlined in that
singlet.

	I arrive at the gym and change my clothes. My eyes scan the locker
room for more potential options. There's Christian Serra. He's tall too,
with brown hair, but he's also a little bit of an idiot. There's Jon
Taub. I've known him since middle school. Probably my second real crush
after Tyler. He's about 5'11" and bulky. He's also sweet as fuck which
makes me blush like a schoolgirl.

	I walked out of the locker room and sat down at my assigned spot,
watching Mr. Salton. I guess if I could have my pick, it'd be him. But he's
way too old for me. He actually graduated from Waterford in 1999. He's the
head-coach of the basketball team, married to another teacher and has two
daughters. "A family man," I think to myself. And a real daddy he was. I
think I saw a picture of him shirtless on his honeymoon. His pecs and abs
well-defined, his arms big and toned, his jet black hair. He was about
5'10", and he may or may not have been the subject of my jerk off fantasies
a few times. If I couldn't be with him, I would still get what I want.

	I waited until the morning periods were over, and then I head over
to the gym. I walked into the locker rooms, which were connected to his
office. I look up at the door. "Coach Salton", but the plaque must've been
old. The "Salton" part was mostly etched off. I look around the
room. Mostly coaching books and pictures of him and his past teams. I
walked a little further into his office. There was a small bathroom area
with a shower. And then I saw his Hanes underwear. Almost by instinct, I
took it and started sniffing it. I reached into my pants and started
rubbing my dick, hardening it. It was clean underwear, but I guess it was
all I had to work with.

	Just then, I heard someone coming. It had to be him, he was talking
with someone else. I quickly hid in the stall in his office, praying he
wouldn't notice me. Holy shit. Holy shit, I might get caught. Just then, I
heard a piece of cloth drop to the ground and curtains opening. He was
taking a shower. I heard the water start dripping down and knew that this
was my chance to escape. I open the stall carefully, so as to not make a
peep. But right there. That was when I saw the undisputed crown jewel of
masculinity any gay boy would kill to have. A worshipful flag to
testosterone: Mr. Salton's jockstrap. I picked it up, all worn-down and
yellowed. I wondered how old it was. There was a date written on
it. "11/07/99". That was the date of the famous game in which Mr. Salton
led Waterford to win the state championship. I couldn't believe it was that
old. I sniffed the unbelievably musky cloth and imagined the sweat, the
piss, and the dirt this thing has been weathered by over the years. I
imagine the amount of locker rooms it's seen. The men. The amount of loads
he's shot into this...

	I stuffed it in my pocket and was about to leave. But then I heard
this hunky daddy start moaning. He let out the hottest sounds I'd ever
heard. His moans didn't sound like a jock's like Frank. Rather, they seemed
aged, deeper, and more fitting for him. I peeled open the curtains a little
bit, hoping he was facing the other way. He was. My jaw dropped as I saw
his amazing well-defined ass and back muscles. His right arm, thick with
strength, moving back and forth, obviously jerking himself off. He
quickened his pace. It wasn't long before he shot his load all over the
shower wall. There were white stains on the wall, and now I was certain
what those were. Sensing that he was about to turn off the shower, I ran
away all the way to the football locker room, where I could enjoy his jock
in silence.

I hid myself in one of the lockers and reached down, picturing Mr. Salton
in all his glorious victories and sublime masculinity. Just then, the door
to the room opened. It was Mark Ball! The quarterback of the football
team. What was he doing exactly?... He went directly for Frank's locker and
opened it. He took out Frank's jock and reached into his shorts and started
stroking his dick. No way! I couldn't believe Mark was gay! But there was
something else in his dick. There was no way it was that big.

	But then I realized why he was #11. He has an 11-inch dick! It was
enormous. By far the biggest I'd even seen. It shadowed Frank's dick and
even the largest porn dicks I'd ever seen. He stuck his face into Frank's
pouch and took a huge whiff of it. I did the same with Mr. Salton's. The
stench of it was intoxicating.

	"Oh yeah, shoot that load!" I heard Mark say into Frank's jock.
"Shoot a big load for me, dude." He closed his eyes, dick leaking pre-cum
all over the locker room floor.

	And when he came, I did too. But my load was nothing compared to
his. His monster of a dick shot out the biggest amount of cum I'd ever
seen. It hit a few lockers, and the signs on the wall above them. Because
there were holes in those lockers, whoever those belonged to were going to
receive a sticky semen surprise on their clothes.

	Mark stuck Frank's jock back in his locker and left the room. I, of
course, spent the rest of the day wallowing around in the puddle of cum he
made, scooping some up from off the lockers and lubing my dick up, and I
relived it all. I didn't even go back to class.