So, when we were reading about the story of tom and Harte, I mentioned that tom was the co-president of the Math club with a guy named Fred, or Freddy. We're going to turn to that story now: Fred and Rich, the guy who he still visits when he comes to NY...
If tom were dorky looking in a hot, "young Michael York" kind of way, Fred was just plain old dorky. He got his height early and was 6'3" when he was a freshman. He was solid but not muscular: the kind of body you would THINK was gonna get fat, but never did, and since he only did sports when he had to, he wasn't muscular. He wore thick glasses, and he had a very heavy head of hair, which could make you think he hadn't ever stopped listening to Beetles music. If you asked Fred, or as he was known because of a comic series on television, "Ferd," about the Beetles, he would have looked at you strangely.
Fred had his nose in books 24/7. Math, chemistry, biology, physics, you name it. He excelled in all of what we now call STEM classes, and did more than well in his English, religion, and other "soft" classes. He dressed better than you might imagine: that's what comes of having a sister who is only two years younger. She did most of his shopping for him because, as she said "we go on family things a lot. I'm not gonna be embarrassed."
He wasn't anyone's idea of a dream boat, except for Rich. Rich was heavily into Fred. He would see Fred playing chess in one of his after school activities, his face contorted with concentration, or watch him pass by with his windbreaker kind of floating in the air, and he just swooned. "I want him" was what he thought. A lot. Rich was sort of a "braniac" himself. While Fred was always in the top 3 of the student body (out of 500), Rich was solidly in the top 10. They had lots of classes together, and Rich had joined a number of the clubs Fred was in, just so he could be around him. He found Fred to be very sweet: driven, but very sweet . They spent a fair amount of time together because Fred didn't see that much of Rich's interest was sexual. He just saw someone who was friendly, and who sort of "got him." It started in freshman year, and continued. By junior year they were, as we used to say "thick as thieves." Fred had invited Rich to his house for cake after school once - something Fred had never done with anyone.
"I warn you, Rich. We speak German at home. I'll translate, but..." Rich laughed. "I'm gonna have to learn it eventually, so it'll be a good start." Fred's mom, Frieda, was classic: she had two looped braids at the side of her head, a thick accent, and she didn't understand why Rich didn't take more ganzfett (goose fat), with the brown bread she served. Rich explained that it was new to him: his Italian family didn't eat it. Frieda made a face and wrinkled her nose. "Olive oil. I don't understand. When you can have this good stuff." When he was at Fred's house, Rich realized that he had never seen Fred without a necktie before that day. Ties were required at school, and Fred was always "buttoned up tight." No matter how warm it was, no matter what they had done in gym class, Fred's necktie was all the way up to the top. No buttons opened. Now, at home, it was gone, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top. "DAMN. He has a hairy chest," Rich thought. See, he had never seen Fred's chest, even in gym class because, like many of the boys, Fred would put on his gym uniform BEFORE school so all he had to do was strip down, and then however sweaty the uniform was, he'd put his clothes on over it. Later, Rich learned that Fred would take a shower as soon as he got home, because of the sweat. It explained something: in the afternoons, sometimes Rich would pick up a very musky odor when he was around Fred. It was like a drug.
It wasn't until senior year that Rich finally started letting his feelings be known. Maybe puberty was getting the better of him, maybe he saw that they were going to be going to different colleges, who knows? The "pent up pool" of Rich's desires began to get to him. He started to tease Fred about doing more than school. Rich was very smart, but he also kept his foot in other things, so he played at some sports, had friends outside of the "brain clubs," and finally got Fred to play basketball and softball. When they played basketball, Rich worked as hard as he could to put them on opposite sides, so that he could "guard" Fred. It was fun. He'd get to smack at Fred, block his passage, and sometimes, he'd even take the foul for the chance at getting his hands on the big guy he was obsessed over. At softball, there was less chance for physical contact, but if Rich were fielding and Fred were coming into a base, Rich always made sure that his tags were "thorough." One day, he just took a chance at something he wasn't sure of, but ... he had the opportunity, and he grabbed Fred from behind, pinning him in a bear hug. "HEY. Rich. What the?" Fred squirmed. "You might be SMARTER than me Freddy, but are you STRONGER? Let's see." "Ha ha. Of COURSE I'm stronger." The bigger man pushed against Rich's arms, and he succeeded in moving them a bit, but not enough to get out. Rich tightened the grip . Fred had spent most of his strength in trying to get out, and there was no more fight left in him. "Alright Rich. You win. You win. Let me go." "If I won, why would I let you go, Freddy? Where's my prize?" Fred struggled again. He probably felt Rich's hard on pressed against him. We'll never know. Maybe he was struggling to feel it more, maybe not. Rich could have sworn that he pushed back against him. "Whaddya want? You want a prize? Tell me what it is." Rich laughed. "I'll tell you after graduation. But you can't forget. I won today. You owe me." "Yeah. Yeah. I won't forget. I know you won't let me. " "Darn right I won't." Rich let him go. Fred wasn't quite sure what had just happened but, when he was locked in Rich's arms, he felt something that he hadn't felt in his life. He couldn't get out of Rich's grip, that was clear. The thing is: he didn't WANT to get out of it. THAT's what was confusing him.
Second semester of senior year, and one day, Fred showed up to school in something no one had ever seen: a short sleeved shirt. In a shade of dusty rose. Yes, his tie was all the way to the top, but... we'll get to that. His sister had insisted that since he was in his last few weeks of school, he needed to "bust loose" a little, and she convinced him to wear that shirt. Rich got hard the minute he saw him. Fred's arms. On display. In a shirt that hugged him tightly. He began to imagine getting his fingers under the shirt, and getting as much time as he wanted playing over Fred's body. He had to. "My God. Is it possible that Freddy has a DATE after school?" Fred blushed. "NO Rich! I'm playing softball, remember? You made me do it. I can flex my arms more with the short sleeves. "I wonder if we could talk you into taking off your tie for the game. Remember you made me a promise?" Rich smiled. He actually had something else in mind, but now... a plot was forming in his mind. "THAT'S all you want? " Fred laughed. "Well, that'll be easy. I'll do it right now." He undid the necktie, opened a shirt button, and there he was, the hair sneaking out over his undershirt. "I'll see you at the game, Fred. I gotta go." Rich had to run to the boys' room. He knew enough to make as little noise as possible, as he shot the semen of a 17 year old into the toilet. He knew he'd be recharged soon. He wanted to be "on fire" when he saw Fred come into the game.
Fred's team took the field first. Fred was playing first base. Rich moved around the field until he was behind first base, so that he could see Fred's ass when he crouched. Did Fred know he was watching? Rich thought he did because Fred wiggled it a few times during the inning. "Nice," was all Rich could think. When Fred's team came to the plate, and Fred came up, he surprised everyone. There was a ball that came over the middle of the plate, and Fred SOCKED it. It was a home run. Rich was catching in that inning, and he saw how Fred's back flexed, how his arms tensed, and he had a thought: "Either I'm stronger than I thought, or Fred didn't fight when I grabbed him. Hmmmm." When the game was over, and folks started packing up, and getting their stuff from lockers, Rich was alone with Fred. "That was a good game. I was IMPRESSED! A homer for Freddy!" Fred laughed. "You know, there are only three people in the world he call me Freddy: my mom, my grandmother, and you." "Well, that's because we all think you're cute and adorable, and Freddy sounds like a puppy rather than a big dog. And you're just a big puppy, Freddy." Fred laughed. "I'm not sure what you meant, but I'll take it. " He grinned. "You know I've been working out. I bet your bear hug wouldn't work anymore." "I'll take you up on that Freddy. And here's the prize I'm asking for now. If you can't get out, I get to call you Freddy in public. Permanently." Fred paused for a minute before he said: "bring it on." He turned around so that Rich could get the position. "How long? Five mintues?" "Seven" Fred answered. Rich sealed the hold. Fred fought, but maybe because he was tired from the baseball game, or maybe.... He didn't even make as much progress as he did the first time. He was locked into Rich's arms. He felt Rich's hips bouncing against him. He wasn't wild about that, but he couldn't do anything. And his own penis was hardening, in spite of what he was thinking. "I COULD pull your arms behind you, and keep your wrists pinned. That'd be fun. But I don't have any rope. I just wonder what you'd be like tied up. "DON'T TALK LIKE THAT RICH!" Fred squirmed harder, but with no luck and Rich laughed. "Why not? You want me to tie you up?" "NO. NO. Come on. It's seven minutes. You win. Let me go. " "Wanna go for ten?" "NO. LEMME GO. I gotta get home." Rich laughed. "Ok Freddy. I can't wait to see how people act when they hear me call for you during the day." "I gotta visit the boys'. I'll see you here. We'll walk out together. " Rich waited for Fred, who went to a different stall, bit his lip, and jerked into a john himself. He spent a few minutes "primping" as his father called it, and came out. Much to Rich's surprise, Fred threw his arm around his shoulder. "You know something Rich, I loved high school, but I'm not gonna miss it. I'm gonna miss YOU." Rich nearly melted. "Well, we'll have to figure out something. It's different schools, but they're up and downtown. We can make it work. " He laughed. "Geez, if we could handle Terrence's calculus class, and McCauley's crazed exams, we can figger out the subways." Fred smiled. "You'd do that?" "No problem Freddy."
There were only a few more weeks left before graduation. Every senior was feeling nostalgic, and trying not to show it. That's what you do in an all boys' school. Rich was head of the tutoring club, and he went on getting the younger students ready for exams. Classes ended at two, and sometimes he wasn't finished tutoring until close to 5. Fred hung around too. Sometimes he'd help with the tutoring, sometimes he'd just "get a jump on college work," and bury his nose in one of the books he knew he'd have to use. One of those days, he was sitting at the teacher's desk as Rich was finishing up his session with a less that sharp sophomore. Fred had worn one of Rich's favorite shirts: long sleeve, pink and blue stripes, a tie with the same colors: and he had loosened it. "I'm in trouble," Rich thought. "But that means, so is he. He was chatting with Fred as he erased the blackboard. There was a section of the board behind Fred, and Fred never looked up. That's when Rich made his move. "SUDDENLY THERE WAS AN AMBUSH FROM BEHIND!" He grabbed Fred's wrists and pulled them behind the chair. "ACCCCCK! YOU SNEAK." Fred started laughing. "Ok, you win. Let me go." "Why would I do that, Freddy? I wanna know something. You ticklish big boy?" "YOU THINK I'M GONNA TELL YOU." "You don't have to. I'm gonna find out." Rich stuck a finger into Fred's side. When he squirmed to get away, Rich did it to the other side. "STOP. OK. I'm ticklish. You found a weak spot." "And you want me to stop? NO WAY." Rich's fingers found Fred's sides, over and over again. Fred was laughing, sweating, struggling: and getting hard. "WHADDA WANT THIS TIME RICH?" "I wanna do this every day with you tied up," Rich thought, knowing he couldn't say that. "You're gonna make a pledge to me, Freddy. We made a promise to get together after school. You gonna keep it? If I call you, you gonna pull your nose out of the books and hang out?" Rich had continued the tickling. "YES. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA. YES. I WILL I WILL. I PROMISE. " The tickling stopped, and Fred felt Rich's head lean on his shoulder, and whisper. "You're a good man, Fred. It'll be hard not having you around every day, but... if I can have you once a week." He wrapped his arms around Fred, who then held Rich's hands. "That's how we start."
And that's how we end this chapter. Remember, our boys are only 17. But they'll turn 18, and things will get a bit steamier. Come on back, and you'll see.