Date: Fri, 8 Feb 2013 12:59:23 -0500 (EST)
From: Michelle Aguilera <michelle.aguilera001@aol.com>
Subject: My First Love - Chapter 1 - Bisexual - Adult Youth

My name is Arnold Larsen. This is the story of how I became sexually
involved with an older man and a girl my age, and how it's because of that
man that today, I am locked up in a cryonic capsule, completely dormant,
having no hope of reanimation, lucid dreaming, or anything, because that
only happens in movies or soap operas. My parents thought I was too
beautiful to let my body disintegrate in a grave, so they locked me
here. Today is 2043, but this story starts when I was fifteen. Find out how
this man, who was my first love, put me in here.

      Chapter 1

      January 23, 2015

      It all started in my high-school freshman year. I chose swimming as
my extra-curricular activity. It was Thursday and I was failing in
school. I'd been slacking for several months, not doing my homework or
anything. I'd just go into my room and listen to music, watch TV, or do
stupid stuff on the computer. Ever since my mom divorced my dad and
replaced him with a guy much younger than her, I didn't take life seriously
and I would do anything in my power to piss her off. I had the perfect
plan--to get involved with a much-older guy, preferably one of my teachers,
but my lover teacher had to be gay or bi.  I couldn't coerce a straight
teacher into having sex with me. What I was planning was disgusting and
gory enough, putting an innocent man in jail for realizing fantasies
everyone had? Let's be honest. No girl would notice me. Really. I couldn't
get a girl to look my way even if I showed her a diamond ring, but the guys
were all over me. I can't tell you how many guys had asked me out or tried
to kiss me since my school year started. The girls must've been noticing
something in me because they would pass by me and ignore me. They clearly
thought I was gay, but truth be told, I was straight. It was awkward for me
to attract only guys. Either that or the girls were indeed attracted to me,
not many of them at the same time, I hoped, and they didn't say anything
because they thought I was gay and I would shoot them down. At fifteen,
rejection was a stab right in the heart.

      I had dark skin, black, straight, short, spiky hair, blue-green eyes,
squared face, pronounced but fine nose, and meaty lips. I had a gap in
between my front teeth on the upper teeth, and everyone seemed to like my
smile. I was of athletic body build, and I would work out regularly because
the guys that wouldn't hit on me would bully me, calling me names like
'pretty boy' and 'gay boy' and 'ugly'. Yes, those guys would call me 'ugly'
all the time, and 'skinny', and 'scrawny', so having the bones for good
muscles, I started working out like a maniac, and today, I was nice and
muscular, and the guys would salivate every time I'd pass them by. I admit
it, I know I'm hot, not because I suffer from megalomania, but because
everyone SHOWS me that I am hot. I only wanted the attention of one person,
a hot man teacher. I was straight, but willing to give in to a man just to
disgust my mother even more and make her hate me so I could move in with my
dad's parents, or my dad. None of my academic-course teachers seemed too
interesting for me. They looked either too straight or gay, but manly
enough to be mistaken as straight, you know, masculine and shit, with
hoarse voice and the whole nine yards. I didn't want to take the risk of
subduing a straight teacher. I wasn't an asshole.

      It was then that I saw him, when swimming class started. He was of
athletic body-build, but muscular and at least one foot taller than me. He
had light, very light skin, blue-gray eyes, more blue than gray, giving
them a stunning color, and those guys almost seemed catlike. His eyebrows
were a little arched on the center. I can't describe those, they were
perfect. His face was heart-shaped, he had a fine nose, and his upper lip
was smaller than his lower one. That alone drove me absolutely crazy. I
wanted to bite that lower lip hard while kissing him. Mmm, I was jizzing my
shorts already. He had one earring in each earlobe. I'd always been told
that if a man had an earring in his left ear or in both ears, he was
gay. If he had an earring in his right earlobe and was using it just
because he looked cool, he was straight. This man wasn't gyrating his hips
all over the place, talking with a lisp, making exaggerated or girly hand
movements, or talking like a queen, but oh, yeah, he was definitely gay.

      The jailbait had just found his victim.

      I got confirmation of his orientation when I first heard him
speak. His voice wasn't girly, but it was high and sounded almost
musical. Was he a singer that had just lost his record deal or something?
"All right, guys, it's late, I am dead tired, it's getting chilly, and I
really don't feel like doing this right now. I got punched in the face
earlier, and I'm still very angry about it..."

      Whoa! He must've been wearing makeup because I didn't notice any
bruises anywhere in his face.

Oh, boy!
      "So if I seem to take it out on you, I DON'T apologize, because
you're all fucking annoying and ugly, and I got better things to do. I
wanna go back home, so do three laps, work your bodies like there's no
tomorrow so you can," he screamed, "lose some motherfucking weight because
you all look like you're at least 4 months pregnant."

      The guys looked at one another.

      I heard someone say, "What the fuck is his problem? It's not like he
hasn't gotten laid, so why is he acting like a female on her period?"

      I noticed the guy that said that was right next to me, so I turned to
look at him and said, "If it weren't for your mom's period, you would've
never been born. Think about that and stop making fun of girls in their
periods. You have no idea what girls go through. I have three sisters, and
let's just say, when they're on their period, they can't come to school the
first three days. That's how horrible it is. You asshole." I took off my
shirt and jumped into the pool.

      I don't know what this coach was trying to do, but he had us
swimming, and swimming, and swimming. He promised we would swim and then
swim back three times and then stop, but he was really getting his revenge
at us motherfuckers today, because by the time we were done, two hours
later, everybody's arms and legs hurt like hell. They were seriously
considering dropping out of the class, but it was too late.

				  * * * *

      A few minutes later, I got out of the shower with a towel wrapped
around my waist. It was deliberate although I had my clothes in there. I
was hoping the teacher, who'd forgotten to introduce himself to us new
students taking the class, would go in, see me bent over and fuck the
living daylight out of me.

      He went in. "You, everybody else left. Why are you taking so long?"

      "I'm sorry. I had an argument with someone that said you were acting
like a girl on her period."

      "Don't make me break someone's nose. I really want to punch someone's
face in to feel better about getting my face punched in today. Do you have
a name?"

      "Please don't get in trouble over him. He's not worth it."

      "I'm not going to touch him, but I'm going to make his life a living
hell if you tell me who he is."

      "It's Canela, Gilberto Canela, but..."

      He wrote the name down on his notepad and started laughing
maliciously. That scared me.

      "Don't tell him I told you."

      "It'd be hard for him to know, since he let everyone know he thought
I was acting like a girl." His breathing was so heavy I could hear him from
the other side of the room. "I heard him saying something and the guys
laughing."

      "That worsened your mood."

      "I felt like dancing all over his face with my platforms."

      "Ow..."

      He walked closer to me and handed me my clothes. "Leave. I really
don't feel like dealing with teenage wankers right now."

      "Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?" I walked
closer to him and caressed his hair a little and then his cheek. He gasped,
but when he was about to say something, I placed my index finger over his
lips. "Don't say anything. Just kiss me. I know you want to. Who can resist
gentle touch on their face. Did I touch you where he hit you?"

      "It was a girl."

      I took a few steps back, gasping.

      "She got expelled."

      "Why would a girl punch you out?"

      "Because she was screaming at me and I told her to shut the fuck up."

      "That's great. You did the right thing. Don't let anyone walk all
over you like that."

      "Why do I suddenly feel like doing the wrong thing?"

      "What wrong thing?"

      He cupped my face in his hands, brushed his lips against mine and
then shoved his tongue into my mouth, rubbing it on my tongue repeatedly,
sending chills up and down my spine. Ten minutes later, he kissed me all
over my body, and when he was about to please me going below my abs, I
stopped him and I was the one to go down on him. I hadn't noticed how big
he was, almost ten inches in length and very thick. I covered it with my
mouth and my saliva, licking all around it and up and down on it. He kept
quiet, but he was trembling. Fifteen minutes later, when I was done, I
noticed him crying, and not precisely out of feeling extreme pleasure.I
looked him right in the eyes.

"What's wrong?"

      "I'd never...I'd never done this with a boy before, you know, a
BOY..."

      "I'm so sorry."

      "I could go to jail for this. I could go to jail just for touching
your face!"

      "Hey, you're not going anywhere. I'm not going to tell anyone. Please
don't cry. You've already been through enough today. It hurts me to see a
man crying, and even more to see a woman crying." I wasn't working him. I
meant every word I said.

      "Promise me you won't tell anyone."

      "I swear, and may I die the day I violate this oath."

      He hugged me. That was the worst mistake he'd ever made because when
he wrapped me on those strong arms, and seeing the vulnerable side of him,
I fell in love with him.


Michelle Aguilera
michelle.aguilera001@aol.com