AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys. All the usual rules apply. If you shouldn't be reading this now then don't continue on. This story is NOT about unabashed gay sex orgy's; if that is what you are looking for, you won't find it here. In fact, you won't find any sex whatsoever in this chapter, or perhaps in any of the chapters following. This story is a love story which follows the lives of two teenage boys coming of age, coming to terms with their sexuality, and the realization of the love that they both have for each other. Many of the situations depicted in this story are true. Names have been changed to preserve the anonymity of all parties involved.
"SEX isn't true love, And true love isn't the act of SEX." -Unknown
~ Skipping School ~
Part I
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"Wake Up! It's time for school!" my father's gruff authoratative voice brought me crashing out of my peaceful teenage sleep. With a groan, I rolled over in my bed and in a feeble attempt to avoid the inevitable, pulled my pillow over my head to mute further intrusions into my personal dreamworld. I was just drifting off again, when I was again rudely snapped back to reality by that same commanding voice saying "I said, GET UP!"
I rolled over in my bed with sleep still in my eyes, and managed to mumble the words, "I'm... uhm... awake."
I reluctantly sat up, and tossed my legs over the side of the bed, squinting at the bright, broken beams of sunlight that were begining to peek through the branches and leaves of the large oak tree outside of my bedroom window.
I suppose I should tell you a little about myself. My name is Paul. I live in a small town in Iowa. I'm 15 years old and I'm very shy. I'm also VERY gay, altho you wouldn't know it if you met me. I stand about 5'8, and weigh about 145 pounds. I have blonde hair (actually, it's almost white), blue eyes and a fair complexion. I'm in my last year of Junior high school.
Junior High bites, and I'm not looking forward to today at all... First of all because it's Monday and Monday's never seem to go well, but also because I have a bigtime major test in Algebra and I'm not very good at Algebra. In fact, Algebra has been the main source of contention between my folks and me since my last report card.
I sat on the edge of the bed a while longer trying to think up some way or reason that I could get out of going to school. Sick wouldn't do it, Mom and Dad would see right through that one.
"Damn!" I sighed, resigning myself to the fact I wouldn't be able to get out of going to school. So like every other day, I got out of my bed, grabbed my clothes and headed for the bathroom.
My sister was just coming out of the bathroom as I walked up and I couldn't resist making a wisecrack about the towel she had wrapped around her head. (She's always been VERY picky about her hair; I think it's a "girl thing").
"Oooo Love the hair!", I said in my best "Femmy" voice.
She glared daggars at me as I darted into the bathroom and quickly shut the door.
I took my shower, got dressed and grabbed my backpack from my room and headed downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen, keeping busy doing all the things that moms do in the kitchen.
Dad was at the table reading the newspaper. After I sat down, he lowered the paper and looked at me over the top of his reading glasses.
"Today's the day of your Algebra Final isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah." I replied.
"Well, good luck."
I knew that I was going to need luck... Sheesh! Don't rub it in, Dad!
"Thanks, dad" I said as I got up, slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed for the door.
I opened the door and stepped out into the bright, crisp Iowa morning. I closed the door behind me and started walking the all too familiar route to my personal hell that is called school.
I met up with Dave along the way. He lives a few blocks away from me and we would often walk with each other, making small talk and stuff. He's a great guy, and a real cutey! He's about my height, and has the brightest red hair I have ever seen. His bright green eyes compliment his hair and his eyes seem to sparkle when he laughs. And I mean they sparkle! He has lots of freckles on his face too (which I think is just too cute! I've often wondered what it would be like to kiss every one of those freckles.)
"Hey Dave!" I called as I saw him come around the corner.
"Paul!" he said as he jogged across the street up to me with his backpack swinging back and forth at his side.
"What's up man?" I asked.
"Not much, dude" he said, slightly out of breath "Man, I don't want to go to school today!"
"Me either!" I replied "Not even! But I have an Algebra test today."
We walked a block or so more then Dave suddenly broke the silence:
"Hey! Why don't we just skip school today?"
I stopped and turned to look at him and I almost melted when I looked into his eyes. I had to look away so I wouldn't somehow give away my true feelings for him.
"Umm.. You sure Dave? I... I dunno..." I stammered, "I mean we could get into a LOT of trouble. My folks will kill me if I fail that Algebra test."
"No worries, Paul" said Dave "Dan is back home from Des Moines, and he can call in for us..."
"Are you sure?" I asked. I had met Dave's brother on several occasions and he seemed to be a pretty straight laced guy. Dan was in the Army Reserves, and I figured that he played by the rules. He was very cute, and built like a Mack Truck.
"Hell yeah, he'll call us in", Dave reassured me.
"Well okay.. but what about your mom?" I asked, still feeling nervous about the whole idea, "If we skip, we need someplace to go."
"We can go to my house" Dave said "My mom works today, and she told me this morning that she probably wouldn't be home until later tonight."
Well, I agreed to go with Dave (and it really wasn't with a great reluctance either), but I was still worried about missing the Algebra test, Dan, and most of all, skipping school.
<End - Part I>
I hope you enjoyed Part I of "Skipping School"... So, should the story continue or should I abandon writing altogether and join the Peace Corps? Comments, suggestions and ideas are welcome. Send your comments/ideas to PaperBack_Writer_1@hotmail.com. Flames will be blissfully ignored.