Hottest Kid in School

Hottest Kid in my School by Dennis Banneker StoriesNew@yahoo.com January 17, 2007 _________________________________________________________________

Do not read the story below in whole or part unless it is perfectly legal and proper for you to read descriptions of gay sexual activity. All the usual and other disclaimers apply.

Any resemblance between characters portrayed in this story and actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional. _________________________________________________________________

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A list of ALL MY STORIES is at the end of the chapter, with links and titles. (If you want a more detailed list with Ages of characters, Nifty section, Story description, and other info, see the end of Chapter 6 of "Getting to Know My Hot Big Brother," www.nifty.org, Nifty Gay Incest, Dec. 28, 2006. Some POST dates there are not good because chapters have been added since then.)

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Hottest Kid in my School by Dennis Banneker StoriesNew@yahoo.com Comments welcome

Hank, 17 Peter, 15 ________________________

This is a new story. I hope you like it. If you do, maybe you'll let me know and put a smile on my face. Thanks. --Dennis StoriesNew@yahoo.com ________________________

CHAPTER 1

His name is Hank. Hank Thornton. And he's beautiful. It's not just that he's cool and good looking. Something inside me goes crazy when he's around.

I'm a sophomore. He's a senior. To me, Hank is a knockout. But not to any of the girls that I know of. And not to the one other gay kid I know, Kevin--he thinks Hank is 'sort of okay,' which in Kevin language means not very good looking. I think Kevin is nuts.

Hank has a plain, down home look that I find really hot and masculine--especially with his piercing blue eyes, dark blond hair, and good build. He's about 5 foot 10 and 175 pounds, broad chest, developed arms and legs, and a small waist.

I think back on it now. It was only a year ago that we met.

Hank made me nervous, I wanted him so bad. It was more than that, though. I wanted to be around him, hug him, make him happy. I dreamed about having the nerve someday to tell him how I felt about him.

And at night with my hand and my imagination, I had some hot times with Hank. That would satisfy me for a while--until I'd see him in the hallways the next day or in the cafeteria where I got to see how sexy he looked eating lunch.

People call me Pete. Hank is one guy who doesn't call me that. He always called me Peter. I thought that was wonderful. Nobody else calls me that, and I like my name, Peter Kellerson. I'm fairly attractive--5 foot 5, 120 pounds, brown hair and hazel eyes. I'm okay. But Hank is sexy. I think his name is sexy, too--Hank Thornton.

He's quiet, shy, soft-spoken, blushes when meeting people. But on the football field it's a different story. There, Hank is aggressive, runs the ball, and makes his share of touchdowns.

He's star material. I'm on the track team and run pretty well, but I'm not the athlete Hank is.

He transferred to our school at the beginning of his senior year. I lusted after him and felt sorry for him from day one. I watched him every chance I got and saw how good he was and how hard it was for him to break into a crowd of guys and make new friends. They didn't make it easy for him--until he joined the football team.

If gay relationships were everyday stuff, Hank was the type of guy my parents would be proud of.

I was a lowly sophomore at the time, and Hank didn't know I existed. I went to all his games, though, and drooled each time I got a good look at him. And when he ran the ball, I cheered like crazy. I got my share of boners watching him play, especially when he talked with his teammates on the field, or touched them. I felt a sexual energy coming from him that went right into me.

I loved when he grabbed another team member's shoulder or patted him on the butt. That always boned me up. It made me feel like there was a warmth between players, a sense of friendship that started with Hank. At least he had friends on the team--good ones. Friends outside football were still few.

I wanted so much just to know him, but the two-year age difference was a wall between us. I was eating my heart out, hoping I could make something happen.

Things got interesting one chilly Autumn day in the locker room, fairly early in the school year. I had a dentist appointment and got permission to leave early--in the middle of my gym class. But I liked gym and wanted to do my best, so I went--even though I'd be leaving halfway through.

I had to change clothes and got to the locker room just in time to catch the varsity football team dressing for practice. I heard their colorful chatter, to put it politely. Even before I saw any of the guys, I felt the heat building in my face.

I peeked left and right as I passed rows of lockers, spotting many well-developed chests, an occasional bulge, and even one naked football player. I walked a little slower then, looking sideways at him--amazed that he had one leg up on a bench with his dick hanging down. He was cute, too. And he kept touching it while he talked with his friends. If you hadn't heard their conversation, you'd think the guy was getting ready do a jerk-off demonstration for them.

I had a good imagination.

Miraculously, my hardening little buddy Peter junior and I made it to my locker without attracting attention. They were all busy talking about the coach, his "fucking crazy" expectations, and how rough he'd started treating them suddenly.

I'd hoped to see Hank, but no luck. Eventually, the team left for the field and the locker room was quiet, so I thought I was alone--until I heard the sound of cleated shoes hitting the concrete floor. I had my shirt off, and had just put on my underwear.

"Hey, what are YOU doing here?" a voice suddenly said.

I jumped out of my skin. At least it was a friendly voice. When I looked up, I saw it was Hank.

"Oh--um, nothing really," I said, feeling hot in the face and getting tongue-tied, standing in my bulging briefs, facing Hank.

Why would he ask that question? Then I figured maybe he realized this wasn't track season, and he might know it was an off-time for me to be in the locker room. But that couldn't be true, I thought. He didn't know me.

"Nothing?" Hank said with a nice smile, laughing softly. "Looks like you're doing SOMETHING."

At that point, I felt he was going out of his way to talk to me--his way of being friendly--and my heart pounded so bad, I couldn't think. His smile was so bright and perfect, I wished I could kiss him and slide my tongue over his beautiful teeth.

"Well, yeah--I--I got a d-dentist appointment and got out of class early."

"Whoa! Dentists! Better you than me, dude. Good luck."

I expected him to make fun of me for stuttering, but he didn't. That made me feel good.

"Thanks. I don't mind. I have a pretty good dentist."

"Peter Wilson, right?" Hank said, totally shocking me and making me crazy, the way he looked right into my eyes.

And he knew my name! How could he know my name? Hank was a football god who couldn't possibly know I existed. He was the guy I jacked off about at night--and instead of being all excited, I was scared. He stood pretty close.

"Y-yeah," I said, coming unglued.

"Hank Thornton," he said, all energetic and happy-looking, extending his hand to me.

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking his hand and feeling totally embarrassed. I thought it was cool that he must've been raised old-fashioned like I was, and shook hands the old way. That made me think more of him. Maybe I was weird to think about stuff like that.

But--of all the times to meet and have a conversation with the guy I thought was the hottest kid in school--in my underwear, getting boned up.

He saw, blushed a little, but made like he didn't notice.

"You're good, Peter. Saw ya do the hundred metre a few times. I can tell you work at it."

I was so stunned, I heard my heart pounding and just froze. I normally don't blush a lot, but I did, looking right at his crotch. I could hardly think. I don't know what I expected to see--they all wore jock straps and a ton of padding.

Hank caught me looking, so I had to think fast.

"Th-thanks. Do you guys wear metal cups, even to practice?"

"Hell, yeah. Gotta protect the nads," he said, laughing again, putting his hand there to make a point.

His smile excited me, but his easy, friendly attitude had me spellbound--making me feel like we knew each other forever--not to mention that he accelerated Peter junior's rise to glory.

"I've seen you play," I said--desperate for something to say, and bending over a little so my dick wouldn't stick out as much. "I go to all the games. I love to watch you--I mean . . . I love to see you guys win." The team was undefeated at that point.

"Oh," he said, giving me a lopsided grin, blushing, then looking at the floor, "thanks."

I finally let myself wonder why Hank was talking to me--a totally great athlete, a 17-year-old senior, talking to a lowly 15-year-old.

"You're a real athlete. Your moves are fantastic," I said, not able to hold back my admiration for him. I prayed he didn't think I sounded dumb.

"Nah--just luck. I try to watch the ball and the other players."

I tensed up, thinking Hank would get in trouble for being late to practice. I worry about stuff like that. We'd been talking a while.

"Will you be in trouble with coach?" I looked at the nearest locker, tearing my eyes from his, uncomfortable that I was talking to him this way. But then I couldn't resist watching his face--staring, really.

"For being late?" he said with a silly, self-conscious smile --like he was proud of himself for finishing my sentence. He stepped in closer, making me tense up.

"Yeah," I said.

He looked so cute, I was going to hug him if he didn't stop grinning like that. Yeah, right! I could see the headlines in the paper, 'Half-Naked Boy Found Unconscious in Locker Room. Punch from Football Player Suspected.' I wondered if I'd still have a boner when they found me.

"Hell, no. Coach is pretty good about guys being late, as long as you don't do it a lot."

"That's good." My nervous laugh embarrassed me.

What was I going to say--'You make me nervous; don't get so close?' I had dreamed of this moment--meeting Hank and talking with him.

"Catch me at Timberly's around four," he said, leaving suddenly. I was stunned.

"Okay," I said lamely to the back of him as he retreated-- trying to catch my breath as he walked away. Timberly's was the ice-cream place in town where a lot of students met, but usually not till seven or so.

'Oh God!' I thought when it all sank in, 'He asked me to meet him!' My head was already swirling. Now it was a blur.

Then it dawned on me that Hank's last name was the same as our little town--Thornton Village--and I got very nervous, thinking he was some rich kid whose dad owned the whole county. But Hank didn't act like a rich kid.

I don't remember anything of my dentist appointment. All I could think of was meeting Hank. As I walked into Timberly's, my knees wobbled. It was 4:15.

Hank wasn't there. I had a rock in my stomach as I sat in a booth and waited. He didn't seem like the kind of guy that would play tricks on you or just not show. Then I was scared that I was too late and he got tired of waiting and left.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Thanks for stickin with it." It was Hank. I was relieved.

"Well, actually," I said, blushing, "I was late myself."

"Cool," he said--so manly and casual, with the smile that melted me. "How's the mouth?"

"The mouth?"

"Yeah, the dentist thing, how'd it go?"

"Oh, fine."

"Feelin okay? No pain or anything?"

"I feel great. No pain."

"Cool. Glad you're here, dude."

I expected anything but a good-looking 17-year-old jock to say he was glad to see me.

I jumped when he put his hand on my shoulder. It was just a greeting and only for a second, but it was the thrill of my life.

Hank sat down. Then we were quiet for too long.

"I was . . . surprised you knew my name . . . back in the locker room, I mean." My voice was shaky.

"Ha! I like track--almost went out for it. I went to one of the weekend meets last Spring when my parents brought me here to check out school I'd be going to in the Fall. And you sorta stood out."

Now I was very excited. The guy I dreamed about said I stood out. I didn't have the guts to ask why. But I figured a big athlete like him--with masculinity oozing from every pore-- was talking about the way I ran.

Hank was too straight and too cool for me to imagine he liked me sexually, and I was too young and skinny to be attractive to anyone. But sitting across from him, staring into his face, I could build my private fantasy--undressing Hank and kissing him all over while he begged me to pleasure his sex-starved cock--and take care of my little six-inch friend when I got home. I loved thinking of my dick as Peter junior.

I realized I should have answered Hank twenty seconds ago.

"Oh, sorry. Thanks."

"I hate to ask this," Hank said, smiling away, making my heart flutter and my ears ring, "but can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. Anything," I said, wanting to please him.

"Shit. You're too nice, dude. You maybe won't wanna do this. I'm failing science. I need to get my grade up or they'll kick me off the team."

In my excitement, I had forgotten Hank was in my science class. My fantasy came tumbling down. At the same time, I realized this might be a chance to spend time with him. So my horny little brain built a new one--I would get him in my room and seduce him. That would keep my hand busy for many nights. But why did he pick me?

"You want . . . me to help you with science?"

This made Hank blush really bad.

"Um--well, yeah," he said, gulping--like he hated to admit it.

I wondered if it was hard to admit because he was ashamed of doing badly in class or just embarrassed to be asking me.

"It's okay. Not everybody's good at science."

"Yeah, but I'm real shitty at it, man."

Hank stared at the table. It seemed like he looked down a lot when he got uncomfortable. He was real honest, though. That made me shiver. He was like a man that couldn't lie--a real man, but with a boy-next-door face.

"Sure. I'll do it," I said a little too eagerly, suddenly wondering if he wore briefs or boxers.

"No shit? Just like that?"

"Yeah. I'd be glad to help you."

I wanted to say, 'You're my favorite athlete' or drop some other hint, but I wimped out. I should've said, 'I like you a lot,' and got it over with. But I really did want to help him with his grade--science or whatever. I knew he was important to the team.

Then I was building this fantasy about Hank--about this totally horny athlete. Too tired from football practice to go looking for sex. Too tired to jerk off, even. A guy like that would need me to kneel in front of his naked body and give him what he needed. I could help him a lot. Yeah, right!

"Hey, Peter--you're the best, dude," he said, grinning, shocking me again when his long arm reached across the table and found my shoulder. This time he punched it like we were old friends. I liked that. Peter junior liked it, too.

"It'll be fun," I said, trying not to be obvious when I squirmed to adjust my dick. I thought I sounded dumb at that point. But my cock was definitely going up.

"Yeah," he said, sounding and looking a million miles away, "it might be." Then Hank snapped out of it. "You hungry?"

"Not really." I knew he was offering to buy me something and hoped my answer didn't make him feel bad. I had a small appetite and never ate a lot. I wanted to say, 'Yeah--hungry for a hug.'

"A root-beer float maybe?" he said, tilting his head at an angle like a little boy and looking up at me. That made Peter junior stand up all the way.

"How can I say no?" I blushed, thinking I might as well have told him I'd kiss his feet if he asked. As I think about it now, that hint was subtle enough, it could mean anything--then again, it could mean, 'I wanna have sex with you so bad!'

"Cool. But I'm having a chocolate sundae." He paused. Another cute grin. "Change your mind?"

He made me laugh and gave me a look of approval that I found really sexy, not to mention I was overwhelmed. I could not get enough breath to say anything.

It was hard enough getting used to the idea that a varsity football player--a kid two years older--would talk to me, but his accepting expression sent my head and stomach swirling. Maybe he had bad eyesight, lost his contacts, and thought I was older? That couldn't be true.

"No, thanks." I sounded like a little boy, next to his deep voice. I gulped, hoping he wouldn't get mad. "I'm sorry--I don't have a big appetite."

"Yeah, I can tell," Hank said, looking me over. I felt heat from his eyes as he stared at my chest and arms, like a coach sizing up a new player. "No fat on you."

"Is that okay?" I said, not knowing where those words came from or how I got the courage to say them. I hoped Hank didn't think I was challenging him. He looked surprised.

"Fuck," he said softly, like I'd confused him, "I guess it is. I mean, thin is in--right?"

We both laughed. Then it hit me--we were having a science test Monday, and it was Friday afternoon. I panicked.

"Oh, God!" I said, my face sizzling. If there was any hope of Hank getting a good grade on the test, I would have to start tutoring him tonight! The fate of the star tight-end of the football team depended on me.

If I failed, not only did I risk pissing off Hank, but a whole bunch of other guys, too. I was scared. The stress must've showed on my face.

"Are you okay, dude?" Hank said, concern in his voice. Not just casual concern--a caring that penetrates to your gut and makes you want to be with that person.

"Oh--yeah. Sorry. I just need to make a phone call."

"You look weird, Peter. You're big-time sweaty, man. And your face is all red," Hank said, touching my forehead, making me warm all over. I was thinking I needed to get stressed more often so I can get him to touch me. Now I was wired for sure.

I blushed really bad when he got up and asked the waitress to get a glass of water for me.

I took out my cell phone and called home. Mom answered. I explained where I was.

The water tasted good.

"I'm gonna coach one of our seniors in science--a football player." I threw in that part because mom liked sports, especially high-school football--and I needed her to say 'yes' in the worst way.

"I see," she said, not sounding too enthusiastic.

"He needs to bring up his science grade or he might get kicked off the team. His name's Hank," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Hank Thornton? The tight end?"

"Yeah, mom. How'd you know?"

"He's one of our best players, and I hear he's a good clean boy. I'm sure he'd be good company. You can have him over. Just don't stay up too late."

I was thrilled.

"You mean you won't remind us when it's time to stop, and send him home?" I said with a little sarcasm. Mom embarrassed me so bad when she did that.

"No, honey. Your dad and I are going to the Greek restaurant tonight and we'll be out late. If it were anyone but Hank Thornton, I wouldn't allow it. And tomorrow's Saturday, so--"

"Mom--that's sweet!"

"All right, Pete. We'll be going soon. I'll leave enough food for two, so you boys won't starve."

Then I heard mom tell dad that I was going to tutor Hank Thornton because he needed to get his science grade up to stay on the team. In a second, dad was on the phone.

"Pete--wow! Good going! Be sure to teach him right. Don't want to lose one of our best players." Dad was a total nut for school sports--worse than mom.

"I'll do my best, dad."

"Hey, Pete--where's the confidence? With YOUR grades, you could teach him anything." After that, we said good-bye.

When dad said I could teach Hank anything, that did give me confidence. Then I started to think of teaching Hank other stuff--stuff that made me blush. It was a great fantasy! He probably knew a lot more on that subject than I did.

"Damn," I blurted to Hank. "You won't believe all the support you're getting. My parents are like total fans of yours."

"Oh--cool," he said with a big grin. "But--why'd you go through all that? I mean--you didn't have to. Your face is red again, dude." He was so sincere, I hated to contradict him.

"Well, um--there's a test Monday."

"Oh, fuck," Hank whispered. "I didn't know. And I haven't studied shit."

It was so cool the way he just admitted things. He was so frank about everything.

"Mom said she'd have food for both of us."

I felt totally sexy saying 'both of us.' Not only did I get to meet Hank and talk to him--I'd have him sitting next to me, right in my room.

"You mean--we're gonna start right now?"

"Yeah--we have to, for you to pass that test. I mean, not just pass, but . . . get a good enough grade to bring up your average."

"Wow," he said like he was in awe. "That's great! You did that for ME. Now I gotta make a phone call. Uh, can I use your cell phone?"

"Sure--no problem," I said, dying of curiosity about who Hank needed to call. I was glad I had a cell phone so he could use it.

"So--what IS your science grade?"

"Um," he said, blushing and looking down. "D minus."

"Ooo! We got a lot of work to do--fast."

I stared at Hank while he hit the keys to make his call. He glanced up at me and just looked his normal happy self--no sign of stress. I would be pissing my pants if I had a D minus and needed to bring my grade to passing with one test.

"Hey," he said into the phone, sounding a little more abrupt than he had earlier. "It's me. Who'd you think it was? Yeah. No--I can't make it tonight. I gotta get a good grade on this science test Monday. Fuck yeah, I got the best tutor in the county, man. Hell, no, I ain't tellin ya--it's my secret. You good with math, now? Cool."

Best tutor in the county? I was buzzing when he said that. He sure had confidence.

As Hank spoke, raw male energy poured out of him--yet he had a smile the whole time that I can only describe as gentle. His whole manly aura was driving me nuts.

Hank handed me the phone and I put it away.

It was the first time listening to one side of a conversation made me horny. I just smiled--not daring to talk for fear I would say something really stupid.

I was thinking, 'holy shit.' Whoever it was, he canceled out to be with me. I knew that wasn't exactly the reason, but I let myself think of it that way.

"It's all set," he said in his charming, masculine, testosterone-soaked voice. Peter junior's condition kept my thoughts below the waist.

"Cool."

I started to think--a guy like Hank, who played sports so well and had tons of friends, probably had a lot of interesting things to say and stories to tell. I thought that was great.

"Oh," he said, "I should call my mom."

Excited, I handed him the phone. I thought, 'This should be interesting.' I was about to hear Hank talk to his mom. That excited me for some reason.

"Hi, mom. I'm over at Timberly's with Peter Wilson. Yeah, the kid we saw run last Spring. Yeah, he's great at science. Told ya I'd find a good tutor. No, nothing's wrong. I had to cancel out on Carol's party. Just wanted you to know where I'll be. Might be up late. There's a test Monday. Yeah . . . . . . I know, mom. I didn't know the test was this soon."

I was super-boned hearing this. Hank motioned to me and wanted my phone number. I scribbled it down for him.

"Yeah, mom. Here's Peter's phone number. Wilson. Six two five, nine two two nine. Yeah he just talked to his mom. She said it's okay. I can? Sweet, thanks, mom. Bye."

'Sweet?' I thought. Yeah, Hank was sweet. I'd never guessed he was such a good guy, let alone talk so nice with his mom.

When the waitress came, he ordered his chocolate sundae and my root-beer float. I swallowed hard and about died, the way he said it.

"And my friend will have a root-beer float. Put some whipped cream on it," Hank added, glancing at my thin arms, "we're celebrating my birthday."

Wow. I was his friend now! The waitress smiled and left.

"It's your birthday?" I said, totally dazed by him.

"Nah. I just said that to make her smile."

"Oh," I said, blushing, glad that Timberly's wasn't one of those places that brings out a birthday cake and sings at your table.

"So--what makes you so smart in school? You get good grades in everything."

How did he know THAT?!

"Oh. Well--I just read a lot, I guess."

"Bullshit. You're a brain. And a good athlete, too. How the fuck do you do it?"

I felt faint. A 17-year-old god was asking me for advice. I must be dreaming.

"I just . . . believe you're supposed to remember all the stuff--that it's good for your mind."

The waitress brought our order.

"You LIKE school, don't you." He said it like he already knew.

"Yeah, I guess." I felt the heat in my face.

"Well--how do you do it?"

"Oh! I--I review every day, read the textbook and all my notes--and add to them, and . . . I do the same thing at the end of the week and the month. That way it stays fresh and you learn it better.

"Fuck," he said, amazed and discouraged, "YOU learn it better. I could never do all that shit."

"Don't say that."

I never saw anyone devour ice cream like Hank did. He put it away, fast. But I could tell he really enjoyed himself. I thought it was cute, the way he licked the chocolate syrup off the spoon. There was some little boy in him, I guessed. Peter junior and I both liked that.

"Mmm! They got the best sundaes here. You gotta try one sometime."

The way he said it was so cute--it got to me.

"I promise, I will." Hank's good nature was catching. I could not help smiling back.

"Better hurry up," he said, noticing how slowly I was eating my float. "Got work to do."

"Okay. You're right. I'm a slow eater." I was so impressed he was ready to take on the task, I didn't know what to say.

That's when Hank put some money on the table to pay the bill.

Now all I had to do is get Peter junior soft. But I didn't. He refused to cooperate, and I decided to use my jacket to hide him when we got up to leave.

"I got my car here," Hank said. "Did you drive?"

"Well, um--" I said, blushing again.

"Oh, fuck--that's right, you don't drive yet. Sorry. You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

Hank talked as he drove. He told me about his parents and his two younger brothers. It was obvious he was really proud of his family--and his sports trophies, which he described in detail. I was surprised he talked so much. It was like his well-known shyness disappeared.

I was staring at him, absorbing him, and listening to every word. 'He could be sexy talking about concrete,' I thought.

"In junior-high, I played basketball," he said, chattering non-stop, even as we walked into the house. "When we played Groveland--our big rival--I pulled a three-pointer and won the game. I got two trophies that season. The next year, I played football. I wrestled, too, for a while."

"I'm impressed," I said, taken with him and his athletic abilities.

"Don't be too impressed, Peter," he said, suddenly not sounding at all like a jock. "I loved it all, but my dad pushed me. I'm glad he did, but I don't think I would've done it without him. I made a lot of friends," he said, looking sad for a moment. "That's why I'm on line and IM a lot," he added, as if I knew. "I miss 'em."

It thrilled me when he said that, making me feel closer to him than I actually was--and I'm sure he had no clue the effect he had on me. I was going to drool over him, any minute now.

"I'm still impressed. And I'm sorry you had to leave your friends."

"That's okay now. I'm making new ones, he said, looking up finally with the weirdest grin.

It took a few seconds for all this to register in my numbed brain.

"Oh--you mean ME!"

"Yeah, dumbass," he said, laughing hysterically, "who else?" It was obvious he wasn't putting me down, and the first time I felt good about being called 'dumbass.' I laughed along with him, feeling so close to him, like we'd been friends in another life. I felt such a thrill. It was like his masculinity was seeping into me. But, God! Hank Thornton practically asking me to be his friend!

This made me feel very brave for a second--like I could say anything to him and it would be okay. I gulped, but I HAD to try this.

"Am I a NICE dumbass?"

"I don't know," he said coyly, "are you?"

"Yeah!" I said, faking arrogance. My confidence was up. I had a feeling Hank was way smarter than people gave him credit for.

"Well, okay then."

There was that beautiful silly smile again. But the inflection in his voice when he said 'Well, okay then,' made my balls tighten right up.

"I'll get another chair," I said as we got to my room and I realized he needed a place to sit.

"Nice room."

"Thanks," I said, going to my parent's room for the chair.

I thought he might be sitting at my desk when I got back, but he was polite and waited. He looked sexy standing--with a relaxed smile and a subtle, natural bulge in his pants.

"Did you read all these?" Hank said, amazed as he looked at my overflowing bookcases.

"Yeah," I said, wondering if I should feel proud or embarrassed.

"Fuck, man. It'd take me ten years to read all that."

"Nope. Once you get going, it's hard to put a good book down."

"If you say so," he said, staring at the eight full shelves.

"Are you ready to start?" I sat at my desk--quickly, so he wouldn't see the half-tent in my pants. And I blushed.

"Shit, you don't waste any time. Yeah, I'm ready." He said it with a grin and his teeth gritted together, like I'd thrown him a personal challenge that he had to accept. Just looking at that, I was boned.

"Okay. The test will cover the chapter on electricity."

"Shit. Already sounds hard."

"It's not, really. You know what a magnet is, right?"

"Yeah--you pick up metal stuff with it."

"That's right--iron stuff. It'll pick up iron and steel. Steel has a lot of iron in it. But what makes a magnet do that?" It was obvious that he was really trying to think out the answer.

"I . . . . Shit. I got no clue," he said so sincerely. "But you'll tell me--right?"

"Yes. That's where we'll start," I said, drawing a sketch. "A magnet has lines of force that look sorta like this, but they're really invisible. It also has two poles. One pole pushes the lines of force out," I said, drawing arrows. "The other pulls them in. If I had iron filings, you'd see the force lines." I named the poles and explained a few other things.

"You're good," he said, nodding his understanding. "I think I got that already. How do you tell North and South?"

I answered his question and explained some more things. Then I asked him questions as a test, and he got them right.

"You're pretty smart, yourself, Hank."

"Yeah, well--maybe. You make it easy," he said with his warm expression and deep voice that went right to my dick. His face was sex personified, and Peter junior was throbbing.

He had me horny. I had a tough time explaining electricity.

"See--you have the magnet and this coil of wire . . . . When you move either the wire or the magnet--and they're close to each other--you get electricity."

"Sounds easy."

"He's probably gonna ask the voltmeter question." I explained AC and DC, and that if we had a DC voltmeter hooked up to our imaginary wire, the meter would swing one of two directions, depending on which way we moved the wire.

"Cool. Now I get the plus and minus part. So that's why the DC meter starts out in the middle."

"Yeah! Exactly!"

Then I explained AC. I kept explaining each part and testing his knowledge. Closed and open circuits were hardest for him. But Hank did amazingly well. I was sure he underestimated himself and just needed someone to tell him he was smart. And he was, from what I could see.

As the lesson went on, Hank gave me his enchanting grins, and I had to keep adjusting myself. Hank made Peter junior very happy. Eventually, my movements caught his eye.

Hank stared. I had a boner that stuck right up, making an obvious tent. I thought I'd die. This was the last thing I wanted him to see. My face was hotter than ever. I was so nervous, I was afraid I'd shake. The two of us sat there, frozen.

When Hank's gaze shifted from my tented pants to my eyes, I went nuts inside, and it showed on my face. I was prepared for Hank's anger, disapproval, punches, whatever. I even thought he'd get up and leave without a word. I'd be crushed.

I never expected him to smile at me. That made me more nervous than the other things I was thinking he'd do. He just sat there staring. And that grin--maybe it was a grin of cruelty. Could he be hating me now? Was he taking pleasure thinking about the painful things he'd do to me for getting horny over him? As much as I adored Hank, I was never so scared in my life. I had to say something.

"I . . . I'm . . . I don't know why it's . . . I'm sorry." I looked down at my crotch, then up at him, hoping he'd understand I was pleading for mercy.

That was when he dropped his hands to his lap, his thumbs pointing toward his fly.

"It's okay," Hank said, looking at his crotch, checking himself out.

"Oh, God!" I said. Hank Thornton had a boner. My thoughts showed on my face.

"Yeah," he said, his grin at its widest. "We like each other, huh?"

"Oh, Hank! I--I--yeah, we do, I guess."

"Don't guess."

"Okay."

"You think I'm sexy?" He didn't say it with pride or arrogance. He was quietly asking--almost like he wanted my approval. My dick bounced so hard, it hurt.

"Um," I said, gulping hard, "yeah. How could I not?"

"Well, I know YOU are. Did you ever think about gettin fucked?" he said, putting his hand on my leg.

"I . . . d-don't know. Maybe. I never did it."

"'Cause little Hank would like that a lot."

At that point, I don't know who blushed the most.

"I never tried it, but . . . I think . . . Peter junior . . . I mean, my butt . . . might like it a lot, too."

"Awesome."

"But for me--I mean with you--it's more than sex." I was so nervous, I was shaking.

"Huh?"

I knew what I had to say, even though I was scared as hell.

"I wanna hug you, Hank. Make you happy. I have . . . feelings for you."

I heard my words, hardly believing I'd said them. I was glad I came out with it. I started to have my doubts when Hank just stared at me.

"Shit. You . . . said that so good," he said, totally red- faced, but looking at me with the most soulful eyes.

"What?"

"It won't be one-sided," he said with confidence.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you're fucking hot as hell, Peter Kellerson," he said, leaning into me, his lips leading the way.

My head exploded when Hank kissed me. I kissed him back with all the power and lust I felt when I dreamed about him at night. This is the way a man should act. He knew what he wanted and went for it. He pulled me to my feet.

His strong fingers kneaded my back and arms while he pressed his tight muscles against me. There wasn't a second when he wasn't hugging or squeezing some part of me. I thought I'd pass out at how sexy this was.

I had to hang on real tight when he pushed his hips forward slowly and his hard manhood poked into me. I couldn't think. I didn't want to. I had to tell him.

"I want you. I want this," I said, daring to touch him there.

My heart pounded really bad after I said it, but I was glad I did. I'd heard guys talk about playing it cool and not showing how much you like the other person--but I thought that was wrong. I did it my own way.

"Geez, Peter," he said, his legs shaking, "I know I'm supposed to be the big bad jock--and I'm sorry I rushed it saying about you . . . shit, you know, getting fucked--but . . . I wanna make you happy, too."

Hank grabbed me under the arms and got me into bed--a place we both knew we wanted to go.

I recovered fast, sitting up while he stood--undoing his belt with trembling hands. I thought I'd come when I saw Hank had no underwear. He got on his back then. I brazenly slid my hand inside his zipper and found a very warm, big hard thing.

He lifted his butt so I could slide his pants off. That's when I stared into his eyes and took his dick in my hand.

"I wanna suck this. I dream about sucking it every night."

"No SHIT?" he said, his mouth open in amazement. "Fuck, you're gonna make me come if you talk like that."

I looked down at my prize. My eyes went wide when I saw how big he was. I don't know how big, but to me, it looked huge. He didn't come, but pre-cum shot out of him.

"I want you to come while I do THIS," I said, sliding my mouth on his thick cock. I only got halfway, but Hank quivered as my lips and tongue actually did what I'd thought about for so long. I shook with excitement--and he tasted fantastic. Hearing his hard breathing and feeling his cock throb was the thrill of my life. I pumped away with my mouth on Hank's pole when he grabbed my shoulders.

"Hey--get off me. I'm supposed to do that to YOU!" he said insistently.

"Oh--you ARE?"

"Yeah. You just don't know the rules, man. You're sweet, Peter," he said in the sexiest voice.

"I wanna lick your teeth, first," I said, blushing. I sounded like twelve, but I was dying to do that.

"Go for it, sexy boy," he said, thrilling me. "And I love how thin you are--just so you know."

But he couldn't say anymore--my mouth was on his. After a few seconds, he pulled away.

"Oh, Hank!"

"Nobody gets told about this."

"I swear, Hank--I would never say anything--not to anyone."

"That's cool. Same here. I figured you'd say that, but I-- just had to be sure."

Then it was like a play, and the director gave the cue, and it was embarrassment time. I stared at his dick--loving the look of his hard pole--shiny with my spit and his precum, throbbing like it was very hungry.

"It sure is big," I said, uncomfortable with the silence.

At first, he grinned, then he stood up, pulling me with him, and took off the rest of my clothes. In a million years, I never would have imagined Hank Thornton undressing me, and on his knees with my dick touching his chin. He backed up and held my cock with both hands.

"So fuckin sexy," he said, looking up at me.

I was gonna pass out because of him. I think I said something like, 'Gu blthr daphingrp,' when all six inches of me were in his mouth.

"AHH!" I yelled, firing off three blasts of cum before I could think. And one or two more when he said, 'Mmm.' When I was done, he pulled away.

"Sexy as hell, Peter. You drilled a fuckin hole in my throat, dude. Shit. Two of us with hair triggers--this'll be interesting," Hank said, licking cum off his lips.

Then it hit me. There was no more cum in sight. Hank Thornton swallowed my load! I went to kiss him, but too late. His lips smashed into mine. There was enough left that I tasted myself when our tongues met. I wondered if he'd be this passionate if he were the one that just came.

'No, no, don't doubt him,' I told myself, mentally slapping myself in the face.

"Hank," I said, at a loss for words, "that was so good. I--I don't knew what to say."

"Your dick said it all, dumbass. I made ya horny."

We laughed. I wanted to please him so bad.

I was still hard.

by Dennis Banneker SCROLL DOWN TO SEE STORY LIST StoriesNew@yahoo.com Any comments would be great! Hank-hkims/ch 1/W-rm 2.0

(The current scene to be continued in the next chapter.)

I'd feel so much better hearing from you and knowing you're out there. If you're not sure what to say, tell me what you liked, or just say hello . . . or whatever. :-) (Keep in mind, I have other stories with a character named Kyle--so if you say, "The Kyle story," I won't know WHICH Kyle story you mean. Sorry about that.) Thank you.

--Dennis StoriesNew@yahoo.com

If you have lots to say about the story, don't worry. Long emails are nice. :-) Just please no forwards or attachments. (No website, no commercial connections--just little ol' me.)

That's all I wrote so far. Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it.

The story list below starts with a few explanations. _________________________________________________________

LIST OF ALL STORIES (WITH PARTIAL LINKS) BY Dennis Banneker (StoriesNew)

If you read any of these, I'd love to hear from you. :-) StoriesNew@yahoo.com

17 January 2007 _________________________________________________________

THE STORY LIST INCLUDES:

25 stories (by me), grouped under the following 8 headings:

• HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE - CELEBRITY - SCOUT/CAMPING - BROTHER STORIES - MEDICAL EXAMS - ADULT-YOUTH (tender, caring) - DAD-SON INCEST (tender, caring) - "NO PAIN NO GAIN"

All my stories are on Nifty. (www.nifty.org) Donate to Nifty. It's easy, and you can do it anonymously. ______________________________________________________________

WARNING: YOU MUST BE LEGALLY QUALIFIED TO USE THESE LINKS AND TO READ EXPLICIT HOMOSEXUAL STORIES TO WHICH THEY LEAD. ______________________________________________________________

NOTE: So far, only about 2/3 of my stories are listed in Nifty's author section. You can find them under STORIESNEW. However, the only complete list is below: ______________________________________________________________

FOR DETAILED STEP-BY-STEP DIRECTIONS on how to use the links or how to search by date or title, see Chapter 6 of "Getting to Know My Hot Big Brother." (NIFTY-Gay Incest. December 28, 2006) /gay/incest/getting-to-know-my-hot-big-brother/ (Story #10, below)

Brief directions 'HOW TO USE THE LINKS' are also below. ______________________________________________________________

LIST OF STORY TITLES AND LINKS - 3 NEWEST STORIES LISTED FIRST

"Hottest Kid in my School" (#25) link not yet available

"I Taught My Brother To Jerk Off!" (#24) /gay/incest/i-taught-my-brother-to-jerk-off/

(Above link has been corrected since Chapter 1 posted. This

story first appeared with the word HOW in the title.)

"Five Day Sexual Teasing Ordeal" (Kyle, 17) (#23) /gay/authoritarian/five-day-sexual-teasing-ordeal/

(STORY LIST CONTINUES BELOW - stories 1 through 22)

HOW TO USE THE LINKS - BRIEF OUTLINE: 1) Go to www.nifty.org 2) Scroll down and click Gay Male stories. 3) In BROWSER,

erase /gay (if present), and anything to the RIGHT of it. 4) Paste or type any of the links below into browser, adding it

to the address already there, making sure you DON'T have

/gay twice. 5) click 'GO' or whatever your browser requires. 6) See a Nifty listing of all chapters of the story you selected.

IF YOU ARE NOT AT A NIFTY SITE, the links will not work. Go to: www.nifty.org before trying to use these [partial] links. See steps 2 through 6, above. _______

HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE STORIES (3)

1. Kevin's Horny High School Days and Boy Discoveries. /gay/highschool/kevins-horny-high-school-days/

2. Crazy for Chad. (Love story) /gay/highschool/crazy-for-chad/

3. Special Sale [on Boys' Trousers and Underwear].

Listed as just "SPECIAL SALE." 17 year-old clothing

salesman does a LOT more than sell and fit clothes.

The air gets hot in the fitting room. /gay/highschool/special-sale/

CELEBRITY STORY (1)

1. The Sexual Adventures of Superbboy. /gay/celebrity/sexual-adventures-of-superbboy/

(Author's note: Not your usual celeb story. Mark Trent

is very sexy as Superbboy, and uses powers sparingly.

There is no mystery or magic. Chapter 1 depicts his

sexual awakening.)

SCOUT/CAMPING STORY (1)

1. Scout Campout Qualifying Competitions. /gay/camping/scout-campout-qualifying-competitions/

BROTHER STORIES (8) - (#6 thru #12 + 1 at top of list = 8) All the brother stories depict a loving relationship.

1. Hot N Horny Macho Brothers. /gay/incest/hot-n-horny-macho-brothers/

2. Brothers' House of Many Pleasures. /gay/incest/brothers-house-of-many-pleasures/

3. Teasing Hot Little Brother. /gay/incest/teasing-hot-little-brother/

(they try a little bondage - in ch. 7 only)

1. Eyes for My Hot Little Brother. /gay/incest/eyes-for-my-hot-little-brother/

2. Getting to Know My Hot Big Brother. (Updated Jan. 10, 2007) /gay/incest/getting-to-know-my-hot-big-brother/

*DETAILED DIRECTIONS FOR FINDING STORIES by several methods:

See the STORY LIST in Chapter 6 of this series.*

(Nifty Gay Incest, December 28, 2006 NOTE: Some dates and

total number of stories in that chapter will be obsolete

because more stories and chapters were added since then.)

1. Little Brother Wanted it Bad. /gay/incest/little-brother-wanted-it-bad/

2. Discovering My Little Brother. /gay/incest/discovering-my-little-brother/

MEDICAL EXAMS (COUNTED AS ADULT-YOUTH)

1. Medical Exams [for Josh and his Brothers.]

Listed as "Medical Exams" /gay/adult-youth/medical-exams/

(Other Adult-Youth stories, see below)

ADULT-YOUTH STORIES (4)

1. Boiz New Age School of Sexual Education. /gay/adult-youth/boiz-new-age-school/

2. Boy Who Was Late for School. /gay/adult-youth/boy-who-was-late-for-school/

3. Finding the Boy Who Stole My Heart /gay/adult-youth/finding-the-boy-who-stole-my-heart/

(See also "Medical Exams" #13, above)

DAD-SON INCEST STORY (1)

1. My Son Drives Me Crazy.

(A loving father agonizes over his attraction

to his tempting, 14-year-old son, Jason.) /gay/incest/my-son-drives-me-crazy/

"NO PAIN, NO GAIN" STORIES (5)

1. Teaching My Son a Hard Lesson. /gay/incest/teaching-my-son-a-hard-lesson/

2. Spankin High School Club Initiation. /gay/highschool/spankin-high-school-club-initiation/

(Please note there are 2 titles with the phrase

"Spankin' High" in them. When you write, be sure

to let me know which story you read or mention the

story by number. Sorry, I didn't think of that

when I picked the titles.)

1. Howling from the Reform School Basement. gay/authoritarian/howling-from-the-reform-school-basement/

2. Getting it Hard at Spankin' High. /gay/authoritarian/gettin-it-hard-at-spankin-high/

3. Frat Initiation Hell Week. /gay/authoritarian/frat-initiation-hell-week

FOR DETAILED STEP-BY-STEP DIRECTIONS on how to use the links or how to search by date or title, see Chapter 6 of "Getting to Know My Hot Big Brother." (NIFTY-Gay Incest. December 28, 2006) /gay/incest/getting-to-know-my-hot-big-brother/

Once you get the hang of it, links are easier and faster, (and you never have deal with dates or spelling).

:-) Thanks, Dennis (StoriesNew) StoriesNew@yahoo.com