Date: Sat, 20 Oct 2007 14:45:12 -0700 (PDT) From: Tim Stillman Subject: g/m high school Harrad High Sex. Ed. Class--day two Harrad High Sex. Ed. Pt. 2 By Tim Stillman "Fuck," Mr. Morgan said, first thing second day of the greatest Sex Ed. Class known to man. I jumped when he said it. So did the other boys. We were naked again. Some of us--me--for instance--started stripping as soon as we got in the door. Others started unbuttoning their shirts, and then looked round, wondering the same dream thing I feared yesterday--but this is really happening. And I bet, speaking of dreams, it is even better than the ones that woke me this morning, with my dick the hardest in my life. It hurt, it was so hard. I started jacking, then stopped...wait for class, I thought. Ha! That's bizarre to think. But I better not get started on the fun too much right now, `cause I don't want to be alone when I'm sexy anymore. So Mr. Morgan, sitting on the edge of his desk, said, "Fuck" again and then said, smiling, words soft, "all of you strip naked please and sit down." So finally we all did and most every boy had a hard on. Some shorter than the others. Some longer. Some thicker. Some thinner. Many went at intriguing angles. Balls were nice. I wanted to lick some. And got harder thinking about it. All of them were so hot. And I noticed almost no one had their hands over their pricks either. Some were showing them off. One was making fucking motions. We laughed. We looked at each other. There were some giggles. There were some blushes. The one jock especially blushed up a storm. The class nerd looked so calm and quiet and studious and perfect being naked. His penis was the only one that had a hood--a--yes--foreskin on it. And I wanted to experiment with it so much. I had heard so much and read so much about being uncut. Wish I were to touch it first. Maybe. Mr. Morgan explained that "fuck" is not a bad word, nor is "cocksucker" or the other words, because they mean nice things people can do sexually with each other. People should use them for that reason, he said, and not any other. He said, "Did anybody masturbate last night or this morning before school?" And we looked round, for a show of hands-how interesting rings look on fingers and glasses look on eyes, when boys wearing them wear nothing else. Makes them look even more naked. And that can only be a good thing. How wonderful to see all models and makes of naked boys round me in a classroom. That just makes me hornier for some reason. No one raised their hands. Our teacher smiled and said, "Thought not. Even though you can cum maybe four or five times a day?" "Six" said one voice, the voice of the frail boy at the back of the room. Albert put his hand down, turned his face to his desk, and was so embarrassed when he blurted that out. The jock and the two really handsome boys in school who had nice thick patches of pubic hair and jazzy hard ons that glistened in the morning sunlight through the windows smiled at him in kind of amazement, as if readjusting their image of him. And some day, who knows?, maybe of themselves as well. "Nothing to be ashamed of, if you ask me," someone said, and then I realized it was me. Some other boys said to Albert, "way to go," "didn't know you had it in you," "all those books you read and everything, never thought you..." Mr. Morgan said, "Good for you, Albert. Pleasure is fine. And beautiful. And nothing to be ashamed of. We deserve much more of it in this world. Now, class, I'm going to leave the room for a little while. And while I'm gone, if anyone wants to, you don't have to, you could show the other boys how you masturbate. And see if you do it differently than they do. Okay? I'll be gone just about 15 minutes. So any questions?" Oh god it's going to be me. I am the one. I am so non-essential in the world, but now I'm going to jack off in front of these boys and my dick stood up even higher and said hello to my navel. Mr. Morgan left. And I, refusing to think about it, rushed to the front of the class, and stood there with my hard on, oh why couldn't it be longer than it was? And me in my birthday suit in front of startled eyes and faces that were expressing, him? Timothy? He's the sex daredevil? All the girl magnets in class were somewhat perplexed it wasn't them. But it was a class full of boys. But it still seemed to bother them. I said, "Here, let me show you." I sat on the desk. That was such warm creamy feeling wood on my body. Moved some books and notebooks away. I lay on my side to the class. I said, "Ah, well I guess, I'll ah..." so, I started squeezing my dick's head that looks like a flared mushroom. I put my left hand on my shaft. I looked down at me jacking. I put both hands on my dick. I pushed it out to the class and pulled it back. I tickled the shaft. And the pee slit. I couldn't believe this was me. But it was. I cupped my balls. I pinched my tits hard. I looked at every boy. Some looked away. Some had their eyes fastened on my dick and my wispy pubic hair and my nice sized balls. And some on the whole of me. Maybe I wasn't that bad looking after all. That gave me so much more confidence. As I started jerking away. As did one of them. Not aware of it, it seemed. Then another and another. Some slid down in their seats and spread their legs. My, those winks looked nice. And the boys were closing their eyes and then opening them, looking around at all those naked boys. Gyrating. Pulling hard or soft or with a couple of fingers or with a fist. However they wanted was fine and good. One boy, Matthew, held a hand on the shoulder of the boy in front of him, Bobby, as they jerked off. Though each pretended they Matthew was not touching his shoulder. `Bout mid way in my masturbation, for some reason, I always start lifting my left leg and bring it slowly down and up in scissor motion. I was to find out none of the others did that. When we discussed it later, Mr. Morgan said, that would be our night's homework assignment--to try to masturbate just like I did. Wow! Me! I'm the homework assignment! Takes deep bow to deafening applause. It was great jerking off in front of the class who I told in heavy breaths, "come up here and feel my dick if you want to." Oh did the ones who weren't too into their own did want to. But I could feel their shyness. And mine too. What if someone had? Could I have gone through with it? I think that is what this class is about. But, man, am I still glad no one took me up on my offer. And I started sighing, like I do when I'm close to coming. No more coming in my pants at school. Being sopping and ashamed the rest of the day. That was not what this class was about. I put my legs together tight and I rubbed hard as I could my dick and I was about there, almost, and turning my body corkscrew like... One boy cried out as he came and lifted his pink and creamy ass off the chair and let fly that silvery arc cross the room at the same instant a cocoa color boy shot his wad. Both wads met in mid air, hit, then passed by each other, happy rainbows, from two boys, caressing in the early September golden sunlight, till gravity had its way. And then I came. I came hard and I held my cum in my hand. It just kept pooling there. One boy looked at me quite a lot through out this. And he came just as I did. We never stopped looking at each other then. And now other eyes were on me. I had come last. I was the star. The Timmy has sung. So today's boy sex opera is drawing to a close. He had never noticed me till now. I had noticed him often from the first second I laid eyes on him. His name is Jordi. He didn't cum very much at all but he writhed with orgasm and he fingered his tits with his right hand. And was beautiful in his small body and his tight pale skin. When we had gotten paper towels from the dispenser at the side of the room that every class room had for cleaning hands for various reasons, we dried everywhere on us and in the room, tossed the towels and went back to our chairs, exhausted. Sitting there naked of course. And happy to be. Some were lolling their tongues, kiddingly, on their lips, others wished for a cigarette, and every boy, every one of them, was looking at each other and themselves, measuring, finding pluses, finding differences, and seeing what they thought of it all. We had all of us cum in class. And were, most of us, getting hard again. When the teacher came back in, man, did we have things to tell him. And all us boys were stroking again, and two in the front row had touched each other's penises and were rubbing them hard like they no longer gave a damn who saw them or what it meant. Mr. Morgan said, " That's what part of our course is about," he said to all of us, especially the two boys jacking each other. "It means you are young boys with lots of testosterone and it means that you are, all and every one of you, normal as you can be. Some of you are a mixture of sexualities and it may cause you confusion. Others, well, your brain and your heart and your DNA are still--well, you are still getting plugged in. For those who are decided, still, all kinds of sex can be fun. You'll see, I think. We'll be talking a lot about that in here." Then the bell rang. And we put on our clothes. More slowly this time. Not like we had done something dirty. We chatted and I put my hand on Jordi's basket surprising the hell out of Jordi--and not incidentally me--and he grinned sheepishly and rushed past me to the door. I can't want to see him jack off. I smiled at Albert as he came up behind Jordi to the door. I gave Albert a high five sign and then made it a high six sign, and Albert, who had looked so lost and lonely, and had avoided looking at the faces of anybody, looked at mine and he smiled a big happy smile for a second, then he was Albert again, looking at the floor, and leaving the room. Always tomorrow, Albert, I thought. Well, now I've done the grunt and grind homework, so finally I get to do the fun homework. Which means I am now going to Do Me. (Thank you to the really kind people who asked I continue the story. Please, if anyone wants more, email me. I am deeply grateful to you for reading my words--it means a lot)