Never in the Boys Room - Chapter 1 by Steve Storyman stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)
Copyright 2005 Steve Storyman March 18, 2005 _________________________________________________________________
DISCLAIMER: This story is for adults only. If it is not legal for you to read erotic stories, or you are not of legal age to read this type of story either where you reside or are accessing this page, or are offended by male to male love and sex, other application of pleasure to the body, homosexual or otherwise, then click off this page, and do not read this story. Contains gay scenes. Other standard disclaimers apply.
All character names and names of the high school and other places are fictional. This applies to all chapters or parts of the story, past, present, and future, if any. _________________________________________________________________
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Jamie Anders, 16 Craig Weller, 17 _______________________________________________________________
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NEVER IN THE BOYS ROOM - CHAPTER 1 by Steve Storyman __________________________________
I'm Jamie Anders, and I'm 16 years old now.
When I was 13, my mom took me with her to find a private high school for me. Durston Academy was the last one on the list and it looked pretty good.
I'm about 5 feet 7 inches tall, with blond hair and blue eyes-- but I grew up not knowing that was supposed to be a sexy look. I always thought dark-haired boys with brown eyes were the best looking ones.
While mom was busy talking with the headmaster, I wandered off to the boys room. Alone in there, I peed and then went to a stall to sit and listen, hoping to hear other students talking--maybe about the school, and whether they liked it, maybe about sex. I crossed my legs Indian-style so no one would see me.
I heard a few good things about some of the teachers and it seem most of the guys liked the school, but I never dreamed I'd hear two boys who were lovers talking. I didn't dare peek out through the cracks to look at them, thinking they might see me and get mad. I didn't know their voices, either, and they didn't say their names, so I never found out who they were.
I did find out they were deep into a relationship with each other, and they were both horny because they didn't hook up the night before. They stood side by side at the urinals. One thought it would be a good idea to jerk-off each other. The other boy said 'no' "never in the boys room," but he didn't say why. They argued a little, then left.
But those words stuck with me, and I took it as a dare. And hearing the two of them talking made me hard. So after they left, I jerked off, thinking, 'I'll show you, I can jerk off here.'
Of course I wasn't showing anything to anyone because I was alone. I was still horny while I cleaned up what little cum I shot. I thought if I could jerk off in the boys bathroom, I could probably have a friend in the stall with me and do other stuff.
I like boys. I really like boys. And I can't remember a time when I liked girls--not that way. I would be friends with them, but that was about it.
Even though I was only 13 at that time, I wanted a boyfriend. I thought about it a lot--how I wanted someone I could talk to about anything, someone I could touch and who would touch me, and we would be there for each other. I would jerk off at night in my bed dreaming up the face, the body, and personality of my imaginary boyfriend.
I ended up going to Durston Academy, and I liked it. But I was scared, and too shy to make any moves until my junior year.
I was just 16 then, very horny, and very ready to have someone in my life. Someone special. I had this need inside me that wouldn't go away, and sometimes the feelings just built up.
My only real outlet was the track team, where I was a pretty good runner. Since I was light and had the skills, I did best at pole vaulting. But I made a lot of friends with the other track guys. That was the best part.
And coach always made us shower after each practice, and after every meet. And when I got brave enough to start looking around the shower room, I found out I wasn't the only one who got a boner in the showers. I liked being naked with the other guys, and found out how other boys my age and older looked naked--their bodies and their dicks.
Sometimes I got to have two showers a day--one after my gym class, and one after track practice. I liked those days.
Except for going out to a few movies, or having a few sleepovers with some of my teammates, I was a lonely 16-year-old junior in high school. No one on the team or in my gym class attracted me all that much. Except for a few seniors who were hot, but hopeless girl-daters, no one at school interested me--until Craig Weller showed up.
Craig moved to our area in October, the second month of my junior year. Craig was a senior, 17 years old, a year older than me, dark brown hair, big dark brown eyes, with a gorgeous smile and a tall lean body. He was very cute. He was built almost like a swimmer, but more like a tight end or a quarterback, just not as beefy. I knew it was going to be hard for him to be a senior at a new high school. He had like no friends for a long time.
The first time I saw Craig, my mouth went dry, and my heart stopped for a sec. It was in the hallway--his locker was near mine. He smiled, and I think I smiled back.
It was at the end of the day and I went home shaking. My mind went numb, and my arms and legs felt like they weighed a ton. I'd seen some boys that I thought were hot at the beach and other places, but I never reacted that way to seeing anyone before.
I was so nervous when I got home, I couldn't jerk off. I didn't even try. All I did was stretch out on my bed and think about Craig. I pictured him in my mind and made up conversations that we might have together.
At dinner, I still hadn't come out of the spell, and it showed.
"Jamie, what's wrong?" mom said. She knew I didn't say a lot at dinner, but I wasn't saying anything that night.
"Yes," dad said, "you look a little strange, Jamie."
"Um, well," I said gulping, pressured to think fast, "I got this math test Friday, and--"
"Friday?" dad said, "Today's Monday--that gives you plenty of time to study for it."
"Yeah, but--well, math is hard this year, and the teacher said the tests would be eighty percent of our grades." I did have a math test Friday, but I wasn't that worried about it.
Mom put her hand on my forehead, "He might have a little fever," she said to dad.
"No, mom--I'm fine, really. I just have to study and try to understand it."
"I don't think he's sick, Stacy. Don't fuss about that. Just let him be, and give him time to work it out. Maybe it's time Jamie is relieved of dish duty."
I was thinking, 'YES!' I would give me more it time to do stuff, even though clearing the table and loading the dishwasher didn't take all that long.
"I think you're right, Bob," mom said, as we were finishing up our dessert. "Jamie, you go right to your room after supper, and study for your test. Dad and I will take care of the dishes."
I guess I still looked scared or something.
"Son, if you're worried that much about this test, and you don't understand the material, maybe you could get help from someone," dad said, sounding concerned about me. That was one nice thing about being an only child--you got a lot of attention.
"Yeah," I said, thinking about that, "you're right."
"And if that doesn't work, we'll get a tutor," mom said.
"I'm sure we can work out something, son. Just relax and do your best. Let me know how it goes tonight. But you still have to cut the grass on Saturdays."
Mom piped up. "And you better get the outside of my windows washed before the weather turns cold. I need you to start this Saturday."
"You heard your mother," dad said, winking at me. He always did things like that to take the edge off serious moments. If I did a good job on the lawn, he'd probably help me with the windows.
"Okay, okay," I said, grinning at him, having learned that gets you further than complaining, even though I hated yard work. I didn't mind washing windows, though.
"That's the spirit."
"Thanks mom--thanks dad."
"Do the kitchen and dining room windows first," mom said as I was going down the hall to my room.
"I will," I shouted back toward the kitchen.
We lived in a sort of average two-story house in a nice part of town, nothing special but it was a good house. And I felt loved in it. My parents could bug me at times, but compared to a lot of other kids' families, my parents were great.
I had talked myself into studying for a test that was four days away. Then I thought maybe I could get out of the habit of doing things at the last minute.
At first, it was impossible to study. I kept seeing Craig's face fade in and out. I stared at the pages. Advanced algebra was okay--just not very exciting. After a while, I got into it. But there were things that didn't make sense, and I kept hitting dead ends. I memorized the quadratic formula--again--and that helped a little. At least I felt I'd done something useful.
I zipped through my other homework. I wanted something to do, and thought of Craig--he'd been on my mind the whole time, more or less. As his face came to me--he looked so fresh and cute and manly--I felt new. I suddenly didn't want to do the same old thing--go on line and IM with my friends. I didn't want to do anything that would make me forget Craig's face, or take me away from thinking about him.
I started looking through my yearbook from last year. I found all the guys that looked a little like Craig, and started thinking what it would be like to have him as a friend--to go swimming with, maybe even change clothes with and see him naked.
The weight of the book on the end of my dick let me know I was hard. I'm glad my lap was covered, because dad knocked. I told him to come in.
"How did the math studying go?"
"I understood part of it," I said, hoping he wouldn't be too disappointed with me, "but the rest was like Greek."
"All right, son. See if you can find a friend who'll help you."
"Okay--I'll try." I was glad that was a short conversation.
As I got ready for bed, I decided to look at myself naked in the mirror. I imagined Craig was next to me. I pretended my hand was his hand, and as I played with my dick, I was never so excited as this second, thinking about Craig.
"Oh--yeah, Craig, stroke me," I said, also pretending my dick was HIS. "Yes, yes! Uhnnnnng, AH!" I shouted as a huge stream of cum hit the mirror. Why couldn't I have someone like him? My climax felt good, and I didn't even mind the mess on the mirror, but I was feeling hopeless about my love life. My NON love life.
Right away, there was a knock at my door--it was dad.
"Son! Are you all right? Can I come in?"
I was tired of being lonely. Tired of needing and wanting and not getting anywhere. I was tired of hiding my feelings.
"Sure, dad. Come in."
"Son, I just heard . . . oh," he said, seeing my cum on the mirror, then me naked, with my boner still in my hand.
"Yeah," I said, my face hot as hell, as dad closed the door behind him.
"Sorry son." He was blushed too. "I know--I mean . . . like we talked about, all boys do this . . . and, well, you need your privacy."
He was so nervous, I felt sorry for him. He looked everywhere except at my dick. I was okay with that--it backed up what he was saying about privacy.
"I don't care about privacy anymore," I said, letting my down feelings show for the first time.
"Jamie--what are you saying." It wasn't often dad called me by my name.
"I don't know. I just feel--"
"I think I understand, son. You haven't dated much, and I've been thinking you might be lonely. You were . . . thinking about some girl just now?"
Even though I wasn't, I was embarrassed suddenly. I really didn't want to hide things anymore.
"Yeah, dad."
"All boys do that, so don't worry about it," he said, turning around to leave, "and you'll find the right girl someday."
"Yeah, I guess."
We said good night, and that was that. I kicked myself that I didn't have the nerve to tell him I wanted a boyfriend. Maybe that was the best thing. I didn't know. I wasn't sure of anything.
The next day at school, I had the best shock of my life. Craig Weller was in my gym class. All through it I planned how I would take my shower away from him--no way could I help staring at him if I showered near him.
I hadn't counted on him being the last guy to get in the shower room. And the only spot left was next to me. Even though I was very tense, I thought I'd make the best of it.
"How's it going?" I said to Craig, trying to sound casual.
"Not bad. How about you?"
"Me? Oh, yeah--pretty good."
"Are you going out for any sports?" he said, his deep voice going right through me.
"Yup. Track. Pole vaulting," I said, starting to feel tense.
"Cool. I do basketball, but . . . I guess I'll skip it this year."
"Oh. Too bad."
I was still nervous, but he excited me. I thought I'd sounded stupid they way I talked, and I wished I could rewind, and have a second chance.
His gym locker wasn't near mine, thank God, so I could hide my bone--mine was against the wall. I fumbled around getting dressed, taking forever. But my spirits lifted, seeing him getting ready to walk out into the hall, right behind me.
We got to our lockers at the same time. There was a small crowd of seniors who got their books out for the next class, and stood around talking. I knew a lot of those guys were in some of Craig's classes--I had seen them coming out of classrooms that morning. Craig stood nearby, looking at them, but they ignored Craig. Eventually they left, talking to each other.
"What do you have next?" he said, looking my way.
"Lunch."
"Me, too. Can we eat together?"
My legs got weak. "Um, sure. But I'm not all that interesting to talk to." Why do I say things like that?!
"Hey--you're friendly, at least," he said, smiling at me, and glancing down the hall at the group of seniors.
"Okay, cool."
I ate with different people each day, so it was no problem for me and Craig to sit at a table by ourselves. It turns out that he was a tight end in junior high, and in his freshman year at his old school. We talked the whole time.
"You lied to me," he said with a funny look on his face.
I felt like falling through the floor. "I--I'm sorry, I--"
Then he gave me a huge smile. "You're VERY interesting to talk with."
"Oh." I felt the heat in my face. "Thanks. You are, too."
"So what are you good at besides pole vaulting?"
Now I was blushing really bad. I thought of a lot of different meanings to that, and a lot of answers that I wouldn't dare give.
"Well, the hundred meter. That's about it, really. You?"
"I love football--even more than basketball, and--"
The warning bell rang.
"What class do you have now," I said, picking up my trash and getting ready to go.
"Math."
"Math? WHAT math?"
"Advanced algebra," he said.
"Holy sh--advanced algebra, with Mr. Hendricks?"
"That's the one."
"That's MY next class," I said.
"Cool. Let's go," he said--like it was nothing.
To me, it was everything. I saw only a blur as we walked to Mr. Hendricks' room. There were lots of empty seats, and I got to sit next to Craig.
From the way he answered the questions, I could tell Craig was good at math. I got the chance to show that I knew the quadratic formula, and Craig was impressed, but as the class went on, it was obvious I wasn't that good at math.
My next class was social studies, and his was Physics. We had a few minutes to talk.
"This is going to sound really weird," I said to Craig.
"Try me!" he said, smiling.
"Okay." I was thinking, 'Oh, I'd love to.' "There's a lot of this I don't get," I said, tapping the algebra book, "and I was thinking maybe I could find a friend to help me."
"You're right," he said, smiling again.
"Huh?" I was mystified.
"You did," he said--so smooth and casual.
"I did," I said, gulping and even more confused, "I did what?"
"You found a friend who'll help you."
"Oh, God," I said, leaning back against a locker. He took the breath out of me. I was embarrassed now.
"Jamie--are you okay?" Craig said, so cute with his concerned look. I thought I liked him before, but now I was adoring him.
"Oh, yeah--it's just . . . I forgot to take my notebook."
"Well, if you want to study after school, that's fine with me."
"Oh, sure--that'd be great! I'll meet you, um--" I could hardly think. Would he see me as a flake, now that I practically fell apart, talking to him?
"At our lockers, after class?"
"Yeah. Thanks!"
"See ya."
This would be the last period of the day. I didn't hear a word of my social-studies class. I was numb the whole time, and still numb as I walked to my locker, and saw Craig waiting.
"Hey, slowpoke," he said, grinning at me.
"Hi," I said, feeling my face get hot.
"You wanna come to my house?" he said.
"Um, sure--I gotta call my mom first."
"You can ride with me--I have a cell."
"Way, cool, thanks!"
Usually I took the bus, but riding in Craig's car would be wonderful. All was cool with mom--she was thrilled I found a friend to help me, and asked if she could meet him when he dropped me off.
"All's good with my mom," I said.
"Great."
"Jamie, where do you have the most problem," Craig asked.
I thought of a lot of different answers to that question, too. "I--I'd have to show you, but it's like when I look at the book, there's steps left out."
"Okay. You can show me when we get there."
Craig's house was sort of average too, maybe a little better than mine.
"This is nice," I said, looking around.
"It's average. What makes it special is the swimming pool--dad's pride and joy. He dug it and built it himself. He always wanted one."
"Wow," I said, looking at the pool through a back window. It was unusual for anyone in our area to have a swimming pool.
"Let's get going," he said, leading the way to his room.
"Nice," I said, eyeing the posters, his computer and stereo.
"Thanks. I'll get some soda while you find the right page to start."
I had to really think hard to get myself together, but I found the spot in the book where I needed to start, before Craig came back with two Cokes.
"Thank you," I said, taking the cold can from him.
"Okay," he said, all business now. "Where do we start?"
"Here," I said, pointing to the place in the book.
"Ah, okay. Remember FOIL? Well, this is similar, except . . ."
He was such a good teacher--he really made it clear. The book was in front of me, and he'd lean into me when he'd explain certain things. Just the feel of his arm against mine made me bone up. And it wouldn't go down.
At one point, I couldn't stand it any more--my dick was caught and I had to adjust myself. And Craig saw it--saw my bulge and what I was doing.
I blushed so bad. He ignored it, and went on teaching me. He got really involved in this one explanation, and I peeked over at him. And he was bulging his pants--a big, healthy bulge. I wanted to just hug him--I knew I couldn't, but I got very nervous.
"Did you get that last part," he asked.
"Well, I'm getting--I'm not sure."
"That's okay. Probably we should stop for today and just talk."
Neither one of us wanted to stand up--we were both still hard. So we talked. We talked about our parents, then about how it was being a senior in a new high school.
"You saw how those guys had nothing to do with me today," he said, not complaining, but just saying that's the way it was.
"Yeah. I know it's hard," I said. I blushed so fast, realizing how that could sound. I wondered if he would take it the wrong way and get mad.
Then I realized there's a big difference between a senior and a junior--nothing I could put my finger on, I just felt it.
"Yeah. It's hard," he said, leaning back in the chair a little, and putting his hands behind his head, "but you make it easier."
"Me?" I said, my voice cracking for the first time in two years. Oh, God--he's saying I make it easier for him.
"Yeah, you!" he said with a silly smile. "You're friendly and I like you." He leaned forward slowly, getting a little closer to me.
The breath went out of me. "I--I like you, too."
"Good. Wanna see a movie with me Saturday? I have two free tickets to Titanic."
"Oh, wow--sure," I said, trying to get myself together--trying to catch my breath, trying not to feel dizzy.
"Cool. I'll work it out, and I'll let you know what time tomorrow. Jamie--are you okay? You're doing that again."
"Huh? I'm sorry--doing what?"
"You're pale, man! Stay right here. I'll be right back," sounding a little excited.
As soon as he left the room, I had to take a deep breath and try to relax. He was so wonderful, I couldn't believe it.
"Here--it's mom's favorite remedy, tea, honey, and lemon. Just drink it slow. My mom's a nurse."
"Okay." It wasn't too hot, and tasted great. "This is good, thanks."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
I felt it was unusual for him to be so concerned about how I felt, but when he said his mom was a nurse, that explained it-- probably the whole family was over-conscious about health.
"Oh, yeah. It's--I just got over a cold. I got . . . a little dizzy, that's all."
"Whew--you had me scared. That stuff's just right for you if you had a cold."
"Yeah, thanks--it's really good." I finished it all.
"How do you feel?"
"Okay. Just a little cold."
"Cold?" he said with his cute worried look. "It's warm in here. Give me your hands."
I prayed he wouldn't see me shaking as I reached my arms out.
"Shit--they're like ice!" Craig started rubbing my hands with his.
He was making me dizzy again. His hands were strong and warm-- but they were touching me now--Craig was touching me--and my mind was spinning.
As my brain got numb again, all I could do was watch him--taking in his beautiful face, and the way he looked at me.
"Oh, God," I said softly, closing my eyes. ______ More? I'd love to know what you think.
(Scroll down for updated list of my stories--with
descriptions and dates)
Thank you, Steve
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Emails welcome. I'll reply to all substantial.
STEVE STORYMAN'S STORIES AT: www.nifty.org (Approximate age ranges are for current and future characters)
Dates are given for the most recent chapter posted. (MM/DD) Dates are plus or minus a day or so, depending on your server.
ALL dates are in 2005
- hot-little-brother-series 11 CHAPTERS SO FAR 2/21
Nifty Incest/Athletics
A slim 18 y/o athlete wants his 16 y/o brother; caring;
some football & locker room fun; no long game-scenes.
Kevin & Josh. (Ages 15-22)
- i-wanted-my-big-brother 6 CHAPTERS SO FAR 2/25
Nifty Incest
A hot 15 y/o admires and pursues his brother--a sexy,
17 y/o high-school quarterback; caring; no sports scenes.
Chad and Adam. (Ages 15-19)
- hot-teen-brian 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR 1/12
Nifty Adult-Youth
A cute, smooth 17 y/o and some of his older friends
discover a liking for younger guys; hot fun; all
consensual; very subtly authoritarian;
Goes deep into Brian's thoughts.
Brian, Peter, Matt & friends.
(Ages 10-32; Most action: 13 to 19)
- boys-joys-and-sorrows-at-sex-ed-school 7 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Adult-Youth (somewhat authoritarian) 3/7
Teens trained for mutual sex; some spank, paddling, etc;
no cruelty; some orgasm-delay teasing; flogging;
individual and classroom/group punishment scenes;
all consensual; group and couple's sexual scenes.
(Ages 13-35; Most action: ages 13-20)
- hot-freshman-kid 5 CHAPTERS SO FAR 3/4
Nifty High-School
A good-looking high school senior, 17, becomes fascinated
with a cute freshman, 14; story of discovery; tender;
caring; depicts several aspects of high-school life as it
relates to their friendship.
Mark and Kyle.
(Despite the teasing and denial in chapter 4, this
story will not include s&m, domination, or cruelty.)
- hot-night-with-a-nice-kid 1 CHAPTER (More to come?) 2/26
Nifty/College
A good-looking 24-year-old college student
finds a hot guy at a local area college hangout--
a teen club for 18 and 19 year-olds.
Alan and Peter.
- never-in-the-boys-room 1 CHAPTER (More to come?) 3/18
Nifty/
A cute blond 16 year-old boy looks for romance among his
fellow male high-school students.
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)