+++++even if you are a high schooler, you are NOT invited. Come back when you are eighteen. Thanks.
HE is in my homeroom. HE is in my American History class. HE is in my Algebra class. Who? Keith Larsen. Keith the most popular boy in eighth grade; the football star; Keith of the most handsome face in school. If that wasn't enough, his long lanky, 36" inseam legs, small waist and surprisingly big arm muscles make him irresistible to me.
Me? I'm Jerry; little too cute Jerry. Jerry of the 5' 4" height, silly brown curly hair and girly, red-lipped mouth.
Keith wears workout shorts every day. The emphasis is on "short". I believe he wears no underwear either, because I caught him several times with a big boner. He's so cute. His boner must jump up and down, like everyone's does. He jams his fist on it to calm it down. I would gladly volunteer for that job.
All this is leading up to what happened yesterday. Yesterday, as I was leaving Central High, walking down the long outside flight of steps, someone tapped me on the shoulder.
"Hey Jerry. Slow down. I want to talk to you."
I turned, there he was, his buzzed, red hair shinning in the spring sunshine, his face slightly damp from one of his sport practices. (He excels in four sports, go figure.) I could slightly smell his delicious odor from his fresh sweat. It smelled like a wild horse looked. Now, you ask, how can something smell like something looks? I tried to explain this to myself. The picture of a stallion galloping across the field, it's muscles moving on its sleek back. Whew, I better stop. I'm starting to lift in the crotch area.
"How did you know my name?" I asked. Shit what a beginning. I need lesions to inter-personal relations. "Well, you're in some of my classes. You're pretty smart, but you need some gym work. You're too soft."
And to illustrate his words, he rubbed across my boyish, thin tee shirt covered chest. I slightly swayed in the beginning of young passion, when he broke the mood by saying, "How come you are always looking at me across the room. In fact, looking at my package a lot. You gay?"
This was my moment to get the newly forming friendship started on the right foot. "No, I'm "interested" you; as a friend. Only you. Not guys in general."
He digested that statement that even I couldn't understand. His smooth forehead wrinkling up and his eyes half closing, his wide full mouth working on the problem. Finally, like a slot machine giving out the winnings, he brightened and said, "Got it. I think."
We got to the bottom of the steps and I continued walking, and miracles of miracles, he walked side by side with me. "Say Jer," he said. Oh my gawd, we are already at the nickname stage. I could hear a heavenly chorus. "I could really use help before tomorrow's Chem exam."
"Sure." I said, my voice breaking like a twelve year old. "Anytime."
"I was thinking of you coming home with me right now. You got your cell with you. Call home and tell them you'll be late."
"No need. No one's home and they won't be until after 6PM."
So we walked together, chatting like old friends, the eight blocks to his house. It was one of those old fashioned wooden houses with a big front veranda that ran across the front of the house.
He pointed to a wicker couch. "Sit here. I'll just go it to see if the coast is clear."
(What did he mean by that? Was he planning to rape me? One can always hope.)
Time passed. Maybe ten minutes. I looked in the window. There was Keith, his upper body laying on a desk, his lower body naked, his pants at his ankles. His delectable, fuzzy, red haired butt was facing me. Oh shit! I could see his big balls hanging and the faint hair along his ass crack. His Dad was talking so loud, I could hear it through the window. "Next time you leave the lawn mower out in the rain, you will get more than just three butt slaps. You had enough?"
I barely heard him say, "No Daddy, one more hard one."
And his father said, "You are such a pig. Okay, I'll give you one more, but don't spooge on my pants like you did the last time."
Then Keith stood up, pulled up his shorts and kissed his father on the check. "Thanks Dad."
I hurried back to the couch and sat, leaning back with my eyes closed. Presently, Keith emerged. His face was red and his hair mussed up. His eyes also were squinty, but he smiled at me. "Sorry I was so long. I had to tell my Dad something." Then he looked hard at me, "You didn't hear anything out here, did you?"
"Naw, I was just dozing. School always knocked me out."
Then we stood looking at the ground. He said, "I guess with my father home, we can't study today."
"Wait," I said, desperately trying to think of something to keep us together. "Do you like porn?"
"Does a dog like his bone?" Then he laughed, "I could say boner."
Well there it was, out in the open. This dreamy boi was thinking about SEX, and sex with me!
"I have the key to my older brothers porn stash. Let's go."
My house was empty, as I knew. We headed in and he followed me up the stairs to my bedroom. The TV was a big one, flat screen, and standing in the corner. I moved a picture on the wall, extracted a key that was pasted there and used it on my brother's top desk drawer. There they were. I looked at the titles. Smiling to myself I grabbed the one of the bi-sex story. I called over my shoulder, "He seems to have cleaned these I can only find a bi-sex one. Is that okay?"
"Sure, long as there is fucking."
As I inserted the DVD in and got it ready, Keith said, "You know, I am skipping practice. The coach is going to be really mad."
I took a risk, right now. "You think he's going to spank you?"
Those words of mine had an immediate effect on handsome, lanky Keith. These changes in his affect made me feel powerful, as if I controlled him.
His eyes slitted. His mouth became slack. He was flaming red, and most noticeable was his noisy breathing.
I pressed my advantage. "You like to be spanked, do you?"
He mumbled "yes".
He was trembling.
In an authoritative voice I said, "The movie can wait. Lean over my brother's desk and drop your pants.
There he was, his perfectly shaped Valentine's ass exposed to my greedy eyes. He was breathing like a rusty bellows. I felt his fuzzy ass check. He sucked in his breath in anticipation. "Tell me what you want," I ordered.
"Spank me. Hard."
End Part One