This story is adult fiction containing explicit homosexual sex. If you are a minor or are likely to be offended, please read no further. If you are reading further, please consider a donation to nifty.org to help keep this service free and available to all.

Please also note that although this story contains sex scenes, if you are looking for extended descriptions of each penis plunge, this story is not for you.

Reminder: My stories are always total fiction. Yet some real events, real people, real organizations and real places may be included in the narrative to add reality.

>

Comments and criticisms are encouraged. Please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.

PORTER HIGH

by Macout Mann

Introduction

William Sidney Porter High School covered an entire block near the center of town. An adjacent block contained its practice fields. It was the archetype of the city's seven high schools, offering five courses of study, two college preparatory tracks, a general track, a commercial track, and a vocational track. Any student in the city could choose to attend the high school nearest his home or trek to Porter each day, where he was sure to receive a superior education, whatever his interest. Better teachers, usually better facilities, and more importantly a better atmosphere for both learning and extra-curricular activities. Many families from the affluent suburbs chose to pay tuition to the city so their children could attend Porter.

Built in the 1920s, Porter was designed to accommodate 1,800 students, although at the height of World War II the student body had swelled to 2,500. The three story building in classic style was a huge rectangle with classrooms and offices on each side of halls that circumvented the building on each floor. Halfway down its length the structure was bisected by a crosswise hall, leaving light shafts on each side.

Covering the ground floor were the gymnasiums, the lunch room, shops for the vocational students, and a small auditorium where films could be shown and events such as debates and poetry readings could be held. At the front of the school on the first floor were the administrative offices and on the second was the library. And the front hall on all three floors opened into the pride of the whole school system, the Porter Auditorium, a two-thousand seat theatre equipped as well as any playhouse in the country at the time. It even had an orchestra pit.

So in addition to school functions, Porter Auditorium was used for many other activities. The city's civic auditorium was the site of major visiting professional productions, plays and concerts by world renowned artists, but smaller concerts and dramatic offerings were often presented at Porter. When the State University's Symphony came to town, it performed at Porter. Even Ramsay High School, the city's newest, which was built during the Great Depression and until the fifties didn't have its own auditorium, presented its Senior Play and concerts at Porter.

When the school was closed in 1960 due to a decline in the number of residences in the central city, from which Porter drew the vast majority of its students, there was a petition asking that the city take over the building, so that the theatre could continue to be used. The building still stands, but everything is now covered in dust.

These things about the auditorium are important to know, because they explain why over the years about the most prestigious extra-curricular activity for boys at Porter High was to be a member of the Stage Crew.

Originally, the school district had employed professional stagehands. During the Depression, however, they had to be let go. That was when the Porter High Stage Crew was first formed. It was organized like any other extra-curricular club. It had officers and bylaws and all the other stuff that went with after school activities. Becoming a member was a lot harder than just being interested in stagecraft, however. For one thing even as a freshman, you had to be brawny enough to lift heavy props or help move the concert grand. For another you had to be able to handle flats and other set pieces. You had to know about the electrical circuitry that underlay the complex theatrical lighting system. And, yes, it turned out that there was some other stuff a boy had to do.

Of course, the crew had a faculty advisor. In fact, for the entire twenty-seven years that the Stage Crew existed, it had only one faculty advisor. Gunter Kerchner.

You'd think he would have been from the Speech or Music faculties. But no. Kerchner taught electricity in the vocational department. In 1932, when he joined the faculty at twenty-four, school systems were not nearly so strict about teaching qualifications as they later were. Anyway, where was a school to find someone who could teach how to wire up a house and who had also gone to State Teachers' College? Over the years, however, Kerchner did manage to get the necessary education credits to maintain his position. And at the beginning, because he had also had some experience working as a stagehand, he became overseer of the Stage Crew.

You didn't have to take his course in electrical circuitry to become a member of the crew, but you did have to spend many hours after school learning how to avoid electrocuting yourself installing ellipsoidals or shorting out the huge backstage control board. It was over six feet tall and at least as wide, topped with giant rheostats; and it was Mr. Kerchner's pride and joy. Learning other aspects of stagecraft also took many after school hours; but as things turned out, all the work was rewarded by your becoming a member of the most exclusive group at school.

The full complement of the crew was sixteen boys. Often fewer qualified. Only one or two were required for most school assemblies. For plays and musicals, especially events put on by outside groups, all sixteen might be needed. But again, as it turned out, the biggest plum for the members was that they could be anywhere in the auditorium from the stage house to the projection booth at any time.

I

When Kerchner first began to recruit students for the crew in the fall of 1933, he at first was able to attract only three boys. All three from the vocational track. Who the hell wanted to be a stagehand, anyway?

The semester was only a couple of weeks old, when Kerchner happened into the backstage area, actually into the wings furtherest from the stage entrance. It was off one of the main floor side halls. There he found two of his new recruits, their knickers down around their ankles. One boy was passionately sucking the other's dick.

"Hrumph!" the teacher coughed to announce his presence.

Panic.

"Mr. Kerchner! We...uh...Well...It's not like it seems, sir." The boy being sucked was Ben Allison.

"It's very much like it seems, boys. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Well, sir," the second miscreant, Jim Stearns, began, "we thought back here there wouldn't be..."

"Wouldn't be anybody to catch you, eh?"

"Yes sir," Ben said, finally finding his voice. "Actually, the reason we decided to join the Stage Crew was because we found out we could get backstage whenever. We like to get together, but we live miles apart. Please let us just drop out of the crew. Don't get us kicked out of school. My daddy would kill me, if he found out I..."

"Don't worry, boys. We need crew members too badly to let a couple of boys having fun bother us. Besides..." Kerchner unzipped his trousers and took out his own tool. "Besides, I like to have fun myself. One of you want to taste this thing?"

Jim was already on his knees. He swiveled and gobbled down the teacher's dick like it was a candy bar.

It occurred to Kerchner that the ability to have sex in the privacy of the auditorium's off-limits spaces might become a recruiting tool. He got with Ben and Jim the next day.

"You boys know any other guys here that like to fuck around?" he asked.

"There are three or four that I've been with," Ben answers. "Maybe a couple of others that might."

"I've got one buddy besides Ben," Jim says.

"They make good members of the Stage Crew?"

"Most would."

"My friend sure would," Jim said.

"What about David Jones?" Kerchner asks. David was the other member of the present crew.

"We don't really know him," Ben says.

"See if you can find out," Kerchner orders. "Maybe we can get a lot of guys interested in the crew for the same reason you did.

"You know I shouldn't have done what I did yesterday, he continued. "I promise it won't happen again. So you boys will have to take the lead, when it comes to anything like what we're talking about."

After school the following afternoon the three boys were setting up for the weekly assembly. Five chairs in front of the secondary curtain. Lectern centered on the apron. (It being 1933, there were not yet P.A. systems in high schools.) The orchestra director had sent a diagram of how the pit was to be set up. It was mostly the same week by week. A different arrangement in the winds and brasses maybe, depending on what they were playing as the students trooped in and out before and after the assembly. Sometimes there were more percussion than usual.

Ben, Jim, and David had almost finished their task, when Ben began the conversation he and Jim had been planning.

"I sure get horny about this time in the afternoon. Don't you, David?"

"Uh? Sometimes...I guess," David answers.

"Hell," Jim chimes in, "I stay horny all the time."

Both Ben and Jim watch David's reactions closely.

"I wish I could find a girl to bring in here after school and fuck," Ben continues. "But I guess I gotta settle for beating off."

"You beat your dog?" Jim grins.

"Sure. I've jacked off. Lotsa times. I aint ashamed of it."

"Me too," Jim admitted.

The expression on David's face expressed interest. Nothing else.

"You beat your dog, David?" Ben asks.

"Well...I guess everybody does sometime. I aint never admitted it to anybody before though. My old man said it'd make you feeble minded."

"Shit, if that was so I'd be a fucking idiot by not," Ben laughed.

So the boys had reached first base. Ben clawed his cock through his corduroy knickers.

"Shit," he said, "this talk's making me get a hard on. I gotta jack off." He opens his fly without waiting for a response from his fellows. He begins to stimulate his six inches.

"Me too," Jim says. He too starts to beat his meat.

Without saying anything David joins them a few seconds later.

The three boys watch each other, smiling guiltily the way teens do. Then Ben says to David, "You do me and I'll do you, o.k.?"

He reaches for David's prong. Hesitantly David reciprocates. Jim moves closer, and Ben uses his other hand to jack Jim.

Second base.

"Feels so much better when somebody else does it," Jim says. He waits a moment than adds, "I shot off into a guy's mouth the other day."

David looks shocked.

"Was he sucking ya?" Ben asks.

"Nah. He was just kneeling down in front of me looking..."

David's expression told him exactly what he needed to know. David could have said, "Sick!," or something like that, but he didn't. He just continued to take in what he was hearing and enjoy what was happening to him.

"...Hell, I might as well admit it. He sucked me off," Jim said.

In short order all three boys shot their teenaged loads, leaving stains on the stage house floor.

Third base.

Finally, David spoke. "Jim," he asked, "what's it like to have your dick sucked?"

"You want to find out?"

"I've always wanted to do it, but I'm too scared."

David had just cum, but Jim had no difficulty getting him back up.

Home run.

Copyright 2015 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.