Date: Tue, 2 Dec 2008 03:59:02 -0500
From: Mark Thompson <craze_writer@live.com>
Subject: Supernatural_101_Part1

Soooo. I like writing and I was told to write a homoerotica story. So I'm
starting one...

CHANCES ARE this will take place in the same world create by Eric Kripke's
"Supernatural" while there will most likely be no cross over in storyline
or characters. This world was not created by me nor do I claim to have done
so. I however do not like some of the creature features of said world. They
will most likely be changed. Deal with it.


~*~ Supernatural 101 ~*~


There was a time when I didn't believe. There was once a time when if
anyone told me that demons existed, that I would laugh in their faces. That
if there were vampires, werewolves, fucking sea monsters, that I would have
committed them and got the $75 without guilt. But now it's different. Now I
need to believe in all of those things. Now, if I were not to believe, it
would mean that I contradict myself in everyway.

My name is Tim. Once upon a time. I grew up in a small town as most people
who live through my situations do. It seems to be the stereotype, that bad
things only happen in small towns. They would be wrong. The things I have
seen would warp your perceptions of even the clearest world.

I was born into a Catholic family. Though I no longer believe in a god, I
use to. He was my everything, my soul mate. My mother thought that I was
headed for the priesthood. Until the unspeakable happened and I realized
who and what I was. I was a disgusting beast, a shell of a man who, unlike
others, worshipped the men he could `fuck' as opposed to the women. Very
difficult when you grow up in a Catholic community. I love men, I don't
know what it is about them, but I find them exceedingly erotic and `hot' I
suppose.

I also suppose that I discovered this when I was doing my community service
hours for my high school. There was ever only 2 people allowed to do such,
one male, one female. Now, you may not be well acquainted with the High
School degree program of Ontario, or OSSD. You need to complete 40 hours of
community service in order to graduate and thus complete your `OSSD.'

I spent my time, as the female equivalent of my diploma requirement did,
cleaning the change room and creating specialized programs for the male
students enrolled in the swimming program. Not that their instructors had
to follow the program that I put forward, but hey, I could claim all
community service hours that I spent doing sad programming. I got a lot of
free hours out of the situation.

The first day that the coach of the swim team and I had sex was a
Thursday. I remember it all too well.

Washing the showers, I wondered which of the guys on the swim team had the
balls to shower and get completely nude in front of their team
mates. Tommy, Dean, Steven and Terrance immediately jumped into my
mind. Not because they were particularly outgoing exhibitionists, but
because I felt as though they were so hot, that I wanted to see them
naked. Just thinking of them in their tight Speedos and skin tight shorts
gave me a raging semi. And I won't lie to you. I mean, I could. But it's
not my style.

My tools included a shaggy mop, a bucket and a wash cloth. With these
materials I was expected to clean the entire boys locker room, as sentenced
so by the head coach of the swim team, Coach Grehy. In all honesty, I
wanted him as soon as I saw him. He immediately satisfied my pubescent
urges to fuck anything that walked. He just happened to be present in the
locker room when I discovered that I wanted cock, in every way.

"Oh hey Mr. Grehy." I said as I rinsed the walls of the shower room in a
diluted solution of CLR and water. Apparently the school board couldn't
afford any sort of adequate calcium, lime and rust removal product.

"Good job Tim. Keep it up." And he walked into the pool. I kept cleaning
the shower heads which they only required me to clean once every 2
weeks. Eventually, the coach came back. "Tim, I'm gonna need you to wipe
down the benches in the change room too."

Ridiculous. I washed them once every month. At a half hour every day after
school towards my community service, I totally didn't need to take up extra
work. Especially since I hated nearly everyone on the swim team because
they were self-absorbed jocks and general man-whores. I'm reminded of the
great X-Tina song Can't Hold Us Down: "A Guy gets all the glory all the
more he can score, if a girl would do the same then you call her a whore."
Or something like that. I'm not good at remembering lyrics.

"Why" I asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone.

"Because I told you to. Need any other reason?" Mr. Grehy asked me.

I snorted in defiance and continued to mop the main floor of the locker
room.

"Is there a problem?" He asked me, putting on his teacher voice.

"No." I muttered under my breath. Mr. Grehy walked up closer to me and
asked again.

"Need any other reason?"

I turned away from him. "No." I muttered once again.

"I knew that I shouldn't have let a nerd let into the locker room. You've
had four years to prove that you're worth my time and you haven't." He
laughed slightly and walked towards the door.

"Is there a fucking problem with the way that I do my volunteer job?" I
pushed him forward. I instantly regretted the situation as he could not
only revoke my community service position but tell on me and get me
suspended for assaulting a teacher. Not really assault but at the same
time, you're not allowed to touch a teacher for any reason, as they are not
allowed to touch you.

"I think you should apologize." He told me, looking me straight in the eyes
with his own icy-blue ones. He suddenly seemed much more intimidating then
normal, larger and much more muscular. I gulped down hard. Despite my
martial arts training, I didn't think that I could take this man. Instead,
I receded back to my mopping, hoping that he wouldn't notice my weakness.

"I said that I think you should apologize." He put a hand on the mop and
pushed himself towards me trying to scare me into submission. I stood my
ground, knowing that he was in the wrong.

"You don't scare me. You may be the big-shot coach, but not to me." I
stared defiantly at him, directly in the eyes to know that I was serious.

He pushed me over onto one of the benches of the locker room and said "You
think you're tough huh? Well let me tell you that I've put down much
stronger jocks than you, a little cleaning kid." He mounted me in a guard
position, apparently he was adept in grappling. My legs instinctively
grabbed around his thighs. "Ah, so you know how to wrestle huh?"

I wouldn't have called it wrestling, but I did now my way around ground
fighting. He threw me off of the bench and pinned me as soon as the thought
blocked my perception of reality. "See? You're not that tough." He sneered
at me as I stared at him on top of me. I got hard. It wouldn't have been so
bad if he hadn't gotten hard along with me.

"Oh." He didn't quite know what to do in this situation. Apparently, I was
the first student who had gotten him hard, hot and bothered. His wedding
ring flashed in the dim light of the locker room and I was suddenly really
aroused as to what he was going to do to me.

He stared into my eyes for a few moments until I suppose he figured that it
would be alright to fuck me. He put his hand on my crotch and moved it
around, jerking me off through my pants. I moaned and I guess he thought I
was into it, because he took off his shirt.

His swimming carrier showed in his near perfect swimmer's body. I stared at
it in wonder and I reached out to touch it, caress it. "You like that huh?"
He whispered to me as he lightly kissed my neck. "You'll love the whole
package." He flipped me over and ripped my pants off. That's how I lost my
virginity. The swim team coach fucked me in the locker room for about 45
min, he made me cum twice. I was instantly infatuated with him, Which, in
retrospect was a bad idea.

The following day my ass hurt more than I could possibly describe. The
coach's 7 inches doing a number on my virgin ass. I walked like I had
ridden a horse all the way downstairs, which in my mind, I had. Mid way
through breakfast I had to go jerk off in the shower because the images of
my sweaty coach's chest pulsating as he thrust into me kept rushing through
my mind.

The day went by so slowly, I desperately wanted to see Mr. Grehy that
day. I must have walked by the Boy's Phys. Ed. Office 20 times during
lunch, but I didn't see him. The jocks that hung around there started to
point and laugh at me around the 5th time I passed by staring into the
office through the door window. Whatever. I got fucked by their coach. And
I loved every minute of it. I smiled knowing that if any one of them had
offered, I probably would have said yes to them fucking me too. Shit, he'd
created an animal.

As the last period bell rang, I sprinted to my locker to drop off the books
from my previous class and then ran to the gym, being yelled at by one of
the VPs. Fuck you Mrs. Jose, I wanna get fucked. But I slowed down my pace
and made it to the gym where I usually pick up the stuff for cleaning, the
supply closet. There is a doorway there that leads to the change room,
another from the change room to the pool. I picked up my filthy rags and
high tailed it to the locker room.

I know I shouldn't have expected that he'd be there waiting for me, naked,
stroking his cock and then beg me to come and sit for awhile, but I was
still disappointed when he wasn't there.

With 15 minutes left until I had to go home, the pool door creaked open and
my heart stopped. Was it him? I looked up and it was. Standing there in
tear-aways and a skin tight Underarmor shirt was my hot coach. "Hey." I
said.

He nodded slowly to me. "Hey." It was as if I blinked and he was on me. He
shoved his tongue down my throat and his hand down the back of my pants,
running his fingers along my hole. "Mmmh. We need." He tried to get out but
I pushed my tongue into him and began to stroke his hardening cock through
his pants. "To talk after this." He managed to get out before I let him
take me to the ground. My pants were gone in a flash and my legs shot up in
the air.

"Fuck I needed this all day." He looked me in the eyes as he spit as much
as he could into his hand, rubbing the home made lube into my quivering
ass.

"Me too. UH!" I moaned as he tested the lubrication job with a
finger. Satisfied, he eased the thick head of his cock deep inside me.

Pulling out almost the whole way, he asked "This is a secret right?" He
shoved his full shaft inside me.

"Who would believe me? OH FUCK!" I shouted as he thrusted inside me again.

"Good." He said seductively as he worked into a smooth rhythm of fucking my
tight ass.

It didn't take nearly as long as yesterday, which I was sorry for. But it
was still amazing and I felt so good filled up with my coach's cum. We laid
on the shower room floor, the hot water raining down on us. This was the
scene of the third time we fucked consecutively that day. Mr. Grehy poked
fun at me for the cum seeping out of my ass and that I'd have to clean the
showers again.

"Well whose fault is it that you wouldn't let me eat it? Hmmm?" He chuckled
at me a kissed me lightly on the forehead.

Fuck. I think we were falling in love. Second time? Really? But I don't
think he'd been with another guy before, being married for almost 10
years. I certainly hadn't, but I loved it.

"Alright Tim, I wanted to talk to you about. This." Ugh. Why did he have to
be so mature about it? Couldn't he just fuck me daily and be happy that I
wouldn't say anything to anyone? "I know you don't want to hear it, but
this can't go anywhere. I married. I know that you're gay, and I'm pretty
sure I'm the first guy. But even still, I'm married with two kids and
another on the way. Honestly you're much better than my wife, but I don't
want you to get attached."

I laughed in an awkwardly sad way. I knew it, but to hear it was
different. "Ya I know. But. I still want to. You know." He winked at me and
we kissed again. I swear I could feel something more, but I wanted to keep
that feeling locked away in a deep dark region of my mind for no one to
find.

He pulled away from me and coughed. "You alright?" He nodded but covered
his mouth to cough more. Like I hadn't had all the germs that he could
possibly have. Fuck he fucked me bareback. That was fucking stupid. He
turned over on his stomach and coughed more. Pulling himself up on all
fours, he coughed and coughed until finally, something came up. A bloody
pile of phlegm it seemed.

"Whew!" He laughed it off. "Man, that's gross."

"I still think you're hot." I flipped him over and grinded my ass against
his soft cock.

"Again?" He questioned. I just nodded as I grinded harder into his
stiffening cock. "You want coach to fuck you again huh? With his big thick
cock?"

He pushed me onto my back and thrust inside my well-used ass
effortlessly. "Oh fuck ya, it's so good." His thrusts picked up the harder
he got inside of me. The force of his thrusts pushed be against the wall,
straining my neck, but I didn't care. His big dick inside of me was good
enough to make me forget about it. But then he started coughing again.

"Coach are you sure you're ok?" I asked mid-thrust. He pulled out of me,
coughing more and more. "Holy shit." I backed up against the wall and he
threw up pure blood all over the floor. "Coach!" I stepped towards him but
slipped on the blood and landed flat on my back, hitting my head really
hard.

He threw up blood again, this time on me. I screamed and the last thing I
remember was him being dragged up the opposite wall and his skin just
splitting. As if someone were taking a knife to it, but there was no one
there. The blood gushed out of his body with his slowly decreasing heart
beat and I blacked out.

***

I awoke with a start in a hospital bed, my head wrapped in bandages. My
mother sat in a chair beside me. Her already too-thin-frame emaciated
further, hair disheveled and looking as if she either A) hadn't slept in
days or B) was a zombie. These days I'd pick B. But then I picked A. "Mom?"
She looked up at me tears in her eyes.

"Hi Tim." She didn't rush up to hug me and kiss me. Why? "I uh. Heard about
what happened." Oh. That's why. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts." I said rubbing it.

"Ok. Well Dean Remmy, the nice boy from your math class found you
and. um. Mr. Grehy in the showers and. We Mr. Grehy is gone hun. I'm
sorry."

"What happened to him." I wondered out loud.

"I don't know." She answered anyways. "But your father and I have talked
about it, and we can't have. people like you. in our lives."

"Wha.?" Probably a mixture of the pain meds and shock.

"Well you are a sinner in the eyes of God and we can't help you. Unless you
want to help yourself." I put on a quizzical look for her. But I knew what
she meant. "You need." she closed her eyes to spare her from looking me in
the eye. "You need to go away, and fix your problem."

"What problem mom?" tears welling up in my eyes. I assume it's a common
response to those who have been betrayed by their families after a
traumatic experience.

"Your. faggotry." That word I hated most of all. "It is not ok in the eyes
of the Lord and I've ask Pastor Cullin about Holy Cross Hou."

"You want to send me away. To be straight?"

"It's for your own good. We love you, but."

"No you don't. Don't even say that to make yourself feel all high and
mighty in the eyes of your God. And Pastor Cullin molested me when I was 5,
is that ok in the eyes of God?"

"God will judge him."

"Bullshit!"

She closed her eyes again. "Your father and I will discharge you and give
you three days to get your affairs in order. Then you need to leave." She
began to tear up and fled the room in hopes of me not noticing.

"Woah." A voice said as the door was flung open by my mother. "Oh ya lady,
I'm fine!" I was confused. But then it all became clear. Well as clear as
it can get while you're tripping on morphine and pure oxygen. A man in a
suit came into the room widening his eyes in a `what a crazy bitch' way
then stopping to look at me. He wore an outdated suit, though managed to
make it look modern. His hair was light brown maybe a few inches long, as
if he shaved it all off over a month ago. His eyes were green as the sun
shining through leaves and I could just tell from the way the suit draped
over him that he had a smoking body. He smirked at me. "Tim? Timothy
Cetris?"

"Ketris." I corrected his soft `c' with a hard one.

"My mistake Mr. Ketris. My name is Richard Anderson, I'm an RCMP with the
Toronto district police. Service.. I wondering if I could ask you a few
questions about what happened?" He smiled politely at me.

"I guess." I was mostly captivated by his eyes. Hypnotized even. I just
kept staring into them.

"You and Mr. Grehy. You were. Intimate?" He asked stuttering somewhat.

I sucked on my teeth for a minute or two. "We were." I looked down to my
hands that were mindlessly dancing with each other in my lap.

"Ok, that's ok. To each their own right?" He smiled at me, an odd smile
that hid its true meaning. It bothered me. "Ok, so what happened?"

I told him about the moving up the wall, then the cuts... The
blood. Everything that I could remember.

"Well Mr. Ketris, I'm sure you agree with me that that is crazy right? You
said you hit your head. Maybe you were. Hallucinating?"

"You're a bad liar."

"That's what they tell me." He muttered under his breath, trying to hide it
from me, but I heard.

"I saw what I saw and I told you. Now if you don't mind, I have to worry
about where I'm going to live now that my mother kicked me out at 17 for
being gay." I rolled over, putting my back towards him and dealing with the
pain that the IV gave me for disturbing its job.

He paused for a moment. "Ok Mr. Ketris, I'll come see you if I have any
further questions."  With that, he left. I could almost feel his presence
leave the room, maybe it's just because I was secretly hoping he'd jump me
when I was unable to fight back in a hospital bed. Not that I would have.

A day later my parents drove me home, not saying a word until we got in the
door. My father's health plan covered my medication but he refused to talk
to me, no matter how hard I tried to communicate.

"Ok Tim," my mother said when we got in the door. "Go up to your room and
get some rest." She hesitated.

"Three days?" I asked matter-of-factly. "You're both fucking assholes. I'm
you goddamn son." I walked up the stairs. Stumbled. to various curses from
my father and my mother saying something about the Lord's name in vain. The
moment that my head hit the pillow, my pillow, I was asleep.

I dreamed about the events of that day at school. I was hard in my dream so
I can only assume that I was in real life too.

I saw Mr. Grehy move up the wall, cuts slowly opening across his sculpted
chest. The look in his eyes that asked `why?' and `what?' at the same
time. He didn't understand, and neither did I. But in my dream I saw the
perpetrator. I stood up, screaming that I was covered in blood, staring at
my hands. I looked to Mr. Grehy and his limp body fell to the floor in a
heap of flesh, blood oozing out, no longer pumping out. I ran out the pool
door and I saw across the room a shadowy figure. Dressed in tattered
clothing. A ripped shirt, exposing key parts to a statuesque body, a scarf
that did not seem to have been knit and cargo pants. His skin was covered
in dirt, but it seemed to be freckles of varying sizes, from minuscule to
thumb-print sized, fused to his skin. But in his blue eyes, there was
nothing but sadness and desire. It was his eyes that captivated me so. As I
did, the pool deconstructed itself around me and I was standing in a barren
desert staring at a katana sticking out of the ground where the myster ious
man once stood. I walked over to it, feeling as though I would know
everything once I took hold of it. But at that moment something grabbed my
forearm. I turned around and screamed.


I shot up in my bed and looked to the hand on my forearm. It was Richard
Anderson's. His gorgeous face stared at me. I thought that he was the one
in my dream, but the one in my dream had less hair and more pronounced
cheek bones. "Sorry if I startled you Mr. Ketris. But I have a few more
questions for you."

I sighed. "You woke me up from a dream."

"Hope it was a good one."

"It was. It had the man who murdered Mr. Grehy in it."

He looked dumbfounded. "What a coincidence!" He smiled "Just the thing I
wanted to ask you about. Can you describe him for me please?"

"Wait, you think that an invisible man killed Mr. Grehy?"

"I'm covering all my bases Mr. Ketris." He smiled again.

I described the man I saw in my dreams, down to the last detail of the
muscle I saw through his ripped shirt. I was hard by the end of it. Which
was odd since this guy potentially killed my first lover. Odder that I
wasn't more bothered by this fact.

"Alright." He jotted down some notes. "That's all I need. Thanks again."
And he left my room in quite a hurry.

My mother brought me a sandwich later that day but left without saying a
word despite how much I talked to her. She was clearly trying to separate
herself from me to get herself ready for tossing me out. Bitch.

***

"Oh god ya." I moaned as Mr Grehy fucked me harder than ever. Feeling his
cock slide in and out of my ass was bliss. Each grunt, each moan he let out
brought me closer and closer to busting a nut all over myself. "Oh fuck." I
moaned.

"Ya, take it you fucking bitch." He looked at me with empty, black eyes. No
white, no iris, just. black.

"What the fuck.?" I started breathing heavier. His body seemed to harden
instantly and his thrusts became faster and rougher. "Oh FUCK!" I screamed
out, letting my ass take all of his dick. I felt his balls slap against my
cheeks and his hard shaft slamming into my eager ass.

"Oh shit I'm gonna cum." He moaned. He pulled his thick dick out of my ass
and put his hand behind me neck, pulling me towards his cock. I stared at
the tiny hole at its tip as he rubbed it. I tickled the soft spot under his
balls. "Oh ya, fuck you're so hot." He moaned. "I'm gonna cum. Tell me you
want it."

"Give it to me Coach. I want it so bad." He began to shoot his load at my
face. I opened my mouth to catch as much as I could and adjusted to where I
could get the most of it. It tasted sweet and salty at the same time, but
fully heavenly. I tried to catch the steams that missed my mouth and got a
few, making me grunt in pleasure.

"Mmm. You taste so good." I said as his black eyes stared into my soul. He
pushed my legs further into the air and stuck is still hard cock into me
again, thrusting wildly.

"You like it huh?" He grunted while pushing himself deep inside me, hitting
my prostate with each thrust, taking me closer and closer to a monstrous
orgasm. His left hand collected the cum that laid on my chest and he made
me suck it off his fingers. I suddenly felt that wonderful feeling, the one
that screamed `I need to cum now.' I didn't resist. I let Mr. Grehy's thick
cock bring me to the most intense orgasm I ever had. I flicked my spunking
cock at Mr. Grehy's abs, coating them in streams of cum, the rest falling
onto my dick lubing the continuing orgasm. His cock still in me, I could
feel my ass clench around it, making Mr. Grehy moan and grown, shooting
another load up my ass. He kept fucking me until the last of his seed was
as far up inside me as possible. "Ya boy." He said, enjoying the
moment. "Now it's your turn to feel what it's like to shoot then die."

My eyes shot open from the clench of my orgasm and I saw him draw a sword,
a katana, the same one I saw before in my dream, from seemingly no
where. "You were good while you lasted, but that's all you were good for."

Once again, Richard Anderson's hand grabbed my forearm, pulling me out of
the dream. "GO!" He screamed, pointing to my window.

He wasn't wearing a suit, instead, a thin t-shirt and jeans. He carried a
sawed-off shot gun I his right hand, using his left to throw me out the
window. I landed in the bushes below in a lot of pain, I'm sure the head
injury didn't help.

A crash beside me and Richard too joined me, with significantly less
scrapes. "Blue car, go. Now!!" He screamed and shot in the direction of my
window.

There was a blue car in front of my house, I climbed into the back driver's
seat and covered my head as another shotgun blast rang out. The door opened
and closed and the car started. Richard slammed on the gas and we sped off
into the night.

After a few minutes I composed myself enough to move into the front seat. I
looked at Richard and his forehead was bleeding. But he just looked at me
and said "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Richard, what was that? Where are my parents?"

"My name is Desmond Leuengo, your parents are in pieces on your living room
floor and you don't want to know what that was."