This story contains sexual contact between males. If it is unlawful or inappropriate for you to be here, please leave now. The story and characters are fictional, I hope you enjoy it. Your emails and responses are appreciated. A great thanks to Pete for all his input and editing.
Pursuing Timothy Part Five
Greg was on the in-stroke when Mom knocked at the door. She said that Michael Snyder called and the school play's practice was running long so he wouldn't be able to come today, she snickered.
In unison Greg and I said, "Musicals are his life!"
Mom laughed and said, "I'm glad you boys aren't like that."
Greg continued to pound my ass with his hard cock as Mom walked away.
"Damn Sullivan, you are so tight, I can't believe you can even crap out of that hole."
"I can't," I retorted, "I always go next door and borrow my neighbor's ass when I need to take a dump. You Dork."
"I'm almost ready," he warned me.
"Are you going to shoot your cum up there?" I inquired.
"Yeah, I mean you've already had it down your throat. Is it going to be a problem?" he worried.
"No, just checking," I assured him.
As Greg worked up a lather, I asked, "You don't think we're going to start humming tunes from the Music Man because of this do you?"
"I've got something better to hum," he said as he took hold of my hard dick and stroked it.
"I do like humping you, Timmy," he thought out loud.
"Yeah, I know, it's kind of nice; I can't wait to take a shot at that bubble butt of yours."
"What makes you think I'm going to let you?" he laughed.
"I think you want me to," was my response.
"Yeah, I've wanted you for a long time now," he confessed.
"Yeah, I think I knew that, it just never occurred to me that this would really happen."
"Oh damn, here it comes," he screamed.
That's when I felt long warm streams jet up and against my belly.
There was another knock at the door, "You boys want some ice cream?"
"No, we're good," once again in unison.
It worked out better that Snyder couldn't come over. It gave Greg and me more time to perfect our new skills, and skillful we both became. We each took turns until Greg said his dick was really tender, I gave it a warm bath in my saliva and that seemed to help.
When Greg was getting ready to leave, we stood close, looking into each others eyes. Greg asked softly, "Do you think we should kiss before I go?"
I didn't answer, but moved in and held him close to me. Our faces touched and our lips met. He opened his and my tongue danced inside. This lasted for another five minutes before we had to let go so Greg could leave. I wished he could stay.
The next morning we met at the bus stop, we both were very quiet. As we walked through the bus, all the kids braced themselves waiting for our insults, but we gave none. Only Gary Rogers spoke to us, asking why we were walking so funny. In unison we said, "Shut up, dick head".
Finding our place on the back bench of the bus, we placed Greg's backpack between us and held hands behind it. We didn't speak, but just looked at each other all the way to school.
Around lunch time, I finally saw Snyder and yelled after him, "Hey Michael."
He stopped, turning around to see me, which brought his leering look and a broad smile.
"Hey, Mike, I really need you. I mean, will you come over after school today? I have to write this essay tonight and turn it in tomorrow morning."
"Sure Tim, sorry about last night, I hope I didn't screw you up."
"No, Greg was there for me, but I hope you'll take his place today," I smiled, with what I thought would be a sexy look.
Snyder giggled, "I look forward to it, I'll be there right after school and we can jump right into whatever you want."
"Yeah, sure, that's great, thanks Mike, see you then," I shuttered.
"Well I have to run to class, bye-bye," he said as he skipped away.
I shook my head and went looking for Greg. I desperately needed to be with a real man right then.
Greg and I ate our lunch and whispered quietly together about our stuff. I asked him if he was going to be there when Snyder and I did things together. He said no, he wasn't sure he would be able to stay hidden and watch somebody else have me. I understood what he meant. So after school, we separated with a pinky hook, letting go slowly. Greg headed home to start his essay, they were due in the morning and I went to prepare for my sexual experience with Michael Snyder.
Mike arrived about five and he smelled like a young freshman girl going to her first dance. He had on tight fitting jeans and a muscle shirt that defined his skinny arms and showed off his ability to grow hair in his pits. My mother gave me a questioning look as Mike wiggled into my room, I wasn't sure she wanted to leave her little boy with this guy, but I softly closed the door and heard her walk away with what seemed like a sniffle.
Snyder gave me a look, or better yet, a leer, stopping to stare at the bulge in my tight jeans, and then he turned to the paper on my desk as if he needed to redirect his thinking. Mike started right in about paragraphs, and dangling participles. I said, "Mike." He kept talking. "Michael." He didn't turn around but was getting deeper into when to indent.
I stripped off my shirt, I pushed down my jeans, I wiggled out of my boxers and yanked at my dick making sure he was awake and ready for action and I said, "Snyder!"
He turned around and his face lit up, his eyes took me in and he seemed to be memorizing my parts.
"Timothy, you are beautiful, but why are you naked?" he asked.
"So you and I can have sex," I shuttered.
Mike thought for a minute and it looked like he was going to step towards me, but he stopped, hanging his head.
I asked, "What's wrong, don't you want to have sex with me?"
"I do Tim, I mean I have wished for this moment for two years, but I can't, I just started dating Randy Johnson and one thing the straight world could learn from us gays, is to be faithful to their partner," he informed me.
I had to agree with his point.
Mike went on saying, "Don't tell anyone about Randy, he's not out yet."
I laughed and said, "What do you mean he's not out? He wears girl's panties and lipstick to school."
"OK, OK," Snyder agreed, "He's out to everybody but his parents."
"How could they miss it, don't they see him going to school like that," I questioned?
"They're in denial, you try telling your parents everything you're doing," he challenged.
No, that wouldn't be a good idea, I thought to myself.
"Well any parents who name their son Randy Johnson, deservers what they get," I reasoned.
Mike had to agree.
Mike tried to make the best of the fact that I was standing there naked, asking for sex that he was unwilling to provide and suggested, "You know, your friend Greg is really cute, why don't you make a play for him?"
"You think Greg is cute," I asked him?
"Yeah, please understand any guy the girls go for, we gay guys like too."
In my defense I said, "I have a few girls who show an interest in me."
"Don't worry Tim; there are more than a few guys around school who would like to be in this room right now."
"Oh," I said.
"Yeah if I were you, I'd go for Greg, he's probably straight, but I think he'd do anything for you," Mike offered.
"Yeah, I think he would," I said, smiling to myself.
Mike was leering and did take the step towards me, I realized that my thoughts of Greg had produced the usual results it was having lately and my dick was at its fullest. Mike, shook off the temptation and said, "Timothy, I'm sorry, I can't stay and help you, you're just too temping for me. I have to leave right now, I am so sorry, but if I don't, I'm going to be all over that fine body of yours," at that Snyder ran out the door.
Still naked and hard, I wrapped a towel around me, walked to the bathroom, taking a long cold shower. As I left, now relieved from a long whack in the shower, I saw Mom in the hall. She gave me her worried look and I shook my head no. She relaxed and smiled and said, "You should call Greg; he's really good for you."
I said, "I know. Thanks Mom."
I settled down and wrote my essay. I thought it was pretty good, placing the cover page on it with the title and my name.
The next morning I met Greg at the bus stop; he looked deep in my eyes and smiled,
You didn't do it, did you?"
I shook my head no and again, we held hands behind his backpack all the way to school.
Our essays had been delivered before the morning bell and it wasn't until the end of the day before Mr. Evans could grade them. Greg had to leave school early; his mother picked him up to go to the dentist.
After the last bell I saw Mr. Evans and yelled out to him, "Did you grade them," I asked hopefully?
"Yeah," he said, "They're on my desk, if you want to go in and get them," he answered heading towards the office.
I entered his room, looking back at the desk I normally fill and the one right next to it that is always reserved for Greg. There on Mr. Evans' desk was my essay. I looked down at it and read, Timothy Sullivan, B-, over the title, "Turning Gay".
Below partially covered with a piece of paper was Greg's essay. I could see his name and grade, Gregory Pierce, A+. I had to know, I had to see the title; he had never told me what he was writing about. I pushed the paper aside. There in front of me was the title of Greg's essay; I smiled to myself reading it.
"Pursuing Timothy"
The End