Every Blond 6-High-school with Fred and Sara

By Bob42street

Published on Dec 20, 2012

Bisexual

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This is a work of fiction and depicts fictional sexually explicit activity. If you are offended by this type of material, are underage, or if it is illegal for you to possess this type of material in any way where you are located, stop reading it now.

I am bisexual. I suppose the only thing that sets me apart from millions of other bisexual men could be the fact that I have only ever had sex with blonds.

Every Blond 6-High-School with Fred and Sara -------------------------------------------------------

Where I grew up, one simply rode a school bus to school. This year would be very different for me. I actually had to plan out how I would commute to school. Ax was a huge help. Even though we went to different schools, Ax would often ride the metro with me until I had to switch trains. My whole body fizzed with excitement those last few days before school started.

Ax's mom worked in the fashion industry and had surveyed my off-the-mallrack American wardrobe and fretted, saying "this won't work." I felt like I had shown up wearing burlap and furs. She measured me all over and a few days later had half my clothing altered or replaced. I still have no sense for fashion, but I will admit, it did give me a life long appreciation for well-tailored clothes and the common sense to ask for the advice of someone with good fashion sense.

The first day at school was a bit bizarre for me. Everyone shook hands or kissed cheek to cheek four times. I met Sara that day. Sara had such a shy smile with just a bit of mischief behind it those many years ago.

We shared a table in chemistry class. When she asked me about my strange accent I missed a few beats. After all, I had been living with a family who knew I was an American for two months. Ax introduced me to all of his friends as "my American brother". My French had vastly improved during that time, but it was a surprise.

Over the years, it has ceased to be a shock for me when a tourist stops me--crumpled map in hand--to ask for directions to a museum, to the quai de la Megisserie, where do they find the train from X to Y, or to find some other place. I have met so many really cool people that way (often as not, they're my fellow countrymen out for the holidays).

I still have a strange accent, but friends or colleagues at work always misplace me as being from Europe until I bring them around with a light-hearted butchery of the French language. Typically, I channel Elvis to achieve this.

I whispered "I'm from America" in Sara's ear.

Sara shook her head and responded "Surely, you must mean you're from Canada."

"No. I'm from the United States." I replied.

Sara gave me a very odd look and said "You can't be! No one from the United States speaks French!"

I put on a thick Texas accent and said in English "I'm pretty sure I know where I'm from, little lady."

She fluttered her eyelashes at me and invited me to lunch. Bisous!

Several days later, when I was walking up the street from the metro station I heard some shouting and coo-cooing behind me amongst wolf whistles. "John Wayne!" I turned to find Sara and three or four of her friends some distance behind and stopped to let her catch up. Sara and her friends called me "John Wayne" for the entire year, Sara still does. It was the day Sara introduced me to Fred.

Fred always wore scarves. He had a big mane of blond hair. He was really tall, lanky, and theatrical. He was a total hedonist. He was the kind of guy that could really get you into trouble if you let him.

Fred got into my pants in record time. He was a whirlwind. He sucked dick like a madman. He was insatiable. I would go over to Fred's place on Wednesday afternoons or evenings after school and he would start things up by pressing up behind me on the ride up the tiny elevator in his apartment building or comically humping my leg. Fred was a humper. Fred would hump people's legs in the street, in the hall, or anywhere. Fred even got us kicked out of the Orsay museum one time by humping and kissing a statue. That was his thing.

Fred sucked my dick the first day we met. He had lead me to a stairway not too far from school and he got a really confused look on his face after he undid my trousers. "That's bizarre" he said, trying to stretch my skin down over the end of my very hard dick.

It took me a while, but I finally realized Fred had never seen a circumcised penis before. Fred was fascinated by it. I had to explain to him what a circumcision was. "Cut... it? N-no, no, no. You must be joking." Fred responded.

Fred deep throated me on those stairs. His cheeks would always get really red when he was sucking me off. When I came in his mouth, he honked and spat it out on the stairs (which was pretty gross) and said "Sorry. No condom."

The next day, Fred invited Sara and I over to his apartment for the afternoon.

Fred was whispering into Sara's ear while I was puzzling through some schoolwork. She would peek at me and giggle. "Really Sara! It's true! Have him show you!" Fred said, waving his hand at me and commanding me to "Show her!"

Sara was eager to see, so Fred had me showing her my circumcision scar. This lead to Sara running her fingers around it and then jacking me off while I lied back on Fred's bed. Sara was sweet and wanted to know if it hurt. It was surreal. Fred was laying beside me jerking himself off while Sara worked me over with her hand. The moment I started to cum, she wrapped her lips over my dickhead and sucked it deep down until I deflated in her mouth. Fred came on my balls.

After that day, Fred would sometimes ask me to show my dick to one--or more--of his friends, but, the only time I got sex out of it was with Sara (though it lead to some strange conversations about how it was just a common practice in the hospital where I was born).

Sara and Fred were a huge part of my life that year. I wish I had stayed in contact with Fred, but Sara lost track of him after we all went on to university and Fred was never really the type to write. It didn't help much that Ax just didn't care for Fred's personality. To be honest, Fred could be a bit more than a handful at times.

Fred would often urge me to have sex with him in some far-too-public locations. Parks and museums were his speciality but he wasn't above a public restroom, shop changing-room, or dark theatre either. One time he even pulled me into the center of a clothing rack in a department store. I had to be far more discrete than that, I could easily have my visa cancelled if I was caught having public sex. Fred got me to go along few times, but reluctantly.

Most often, we kept our activities to Fred's bedroom, and Sara often joined us there after school as well.

Fred bought flavored condoms. Sara's favorite flavor was strawberry, but as far as I was concerned, anything was better than plain latex. Fred's bed was kind of small for the three of us, but we managed by two us us squeezing in then, someone would climb on top or one of us kneeling over someone's head and get sucked while the other two of us screwed.

My personal favorite was when Sara was on top of me facing my knees. I would pull her back with my hands around her boobs and her hot shoulders rubbing against my chest. Fred would lick us both. Sara would get so frantic that she often pulled off of my cock. When this happened, Fred would deep throat me for a bit and then stuff me back into Sara with his mouth.

We studied too. I certainly needed the help.

Afterwards, I would walk Sara home as she was mostly on my way. Then I would take the metro back to Ax and his parents. Way more than once I was propositioned by someone on my way home, but never by anyone who ever tempted me enough to have sex with a total stranger I'd just met on the metro.

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