Date: Sun, 20 Apr 2003 20:06:10 EDT
From: Chris Andy <Christopherandy2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: DETENTION WITH CHAS   by Chris Andy

     THIS IS ADULT FICTION FOR ADULTS ONLY

     I transferred from my small, neighborhood suburban high school
(Pinewood)  to the larger Point City High downtown.  My dad wanted me to
take German 1 and 2  and Chemistry 2 and 3 to prepare me for college.  He
wanted me to major in Chemistry at his university so that I could work
beside him at the large chemical conglomerate where he was vice-president
in charge of research.

     I loved chemistry  AND German, but, although I loved my dad, I
wanted to leave this fuckin' town--maybe MOVE  to Germany.

      Point City was maybe 5 miles from Pinewood and I could get there by
bus, but my dad, knowing how I hated riding the bus, got me a small VW
(bug) convertible (used, but in Tip-Top condition!)  I loved that car.

     But soon that VW came in second on my list of 'loves'.  My new
 first 'love' was  Chas, a junior at Point City who had also transferred
from Pinewood to Point City, not for academics, but for athletics.  Point
City had an outstanding football team Chas hoped to use as a springboard
to college--'to fuck hotter chicks'  he told me.

    The district gave us tokens to ride the city bus from Pinewood to
Point City.  Every morning Chas, whom I hardly knew at Pinewood--we ran
in different crowds--his popular, mine dweeby!  Everyday for weeks I
raced by Chas who was hitchhiking.  I always felt that I was in too much
of a hurry to get to Chem Club each day to stop.  Plus, what would I say
to him?  He was all sports and I was all studies.

     But one day I thought, 'what the hell'--it was raining and I felt
sorry for him--and I thought, 'I'd love havin' a jock buddy!'  I
screeched to a stop and Chas ran to my VW, opened the door, hopped in and
flashed me that 'movie star' smile of his.

     "Thanks, bro,"  he said, looking straight at me with his sparkling
blue eyes.

     'God, what a hunk,'  I thought.  I was convinced I was 'gay' since
6th grade when me and a buddy, Hal, used to jack off together, telling
each other what 'hot dude' we'd like to have fuck us.  We were both
submissives.  But I didn't know the word then.

      As Chas climbed into the car, my eyes zoned in on his crotch which
was bulging, almost visible, through his thin, worn levis.  Chas smirked
when he caught me staring.

     I quickly recovered and began chatting about our 'before school'
activities.  I told him that I went early to meet with the Chem and math
Club. " What club do you meet with, bro?" I asked.

     "Lift,"  he grunted.  Charles Watson (his real name) was not gifted
in language, but , fuck, who cared!

     "You work out?"  I asked.  (I knew he did--everything bulged--oecs,
shoulders, guns, neck, thighs--you get the idea--nobody is born with a
body like that!)

      "Yeh, dude,"  he muttered.  "Why was you starin' at my crotch?"

     "I wasn't star......uh uh--"  I blustered.   'caught in the act', I
thought.

     "Yeh, you was, dude,"  he laughed.  "Does the jizz show that plain?"

     "Huh?"  I asked.

     "Chick--maybe you know her--Jackie Groggins--gave me a blow job last
night, but  the 'bitch' wouldn't swallow--so the 'cum' ran all over my
jeans.  I tried to rub it out last night in the bathroom, but the fuckin'
jism wouldn't come out.  I couldn't put 'em in the hamper for wash
day--my mom gets pissed when I get pecker tracks on my pants."

          I just swallowed.  "Man,'  I thought, 'Saved by Jackie
Groggins' leaky mouth!  He didn't think I was peekin' at his long, huge
cock, hanging, strangled-looking--down his leg.

 "Yeh, bud,"  Chas continued , " I was gonna toss 'em in the team  washer
and dryer in the locker room,  but , man,  I wanna get liftin'--can't be
late for German Class with ol' lady Prickeater  (her real name was
Pritchard, but we all called her Prickeater--not to her face--she was a
fuckin' tank!)--Could you do it for me, bro?"

     "Sure, man,"  I said.  "Chem Club was just gonna sit around and
shoot the shit this a.m.  Don't want a fellow Pine Woodian goin'  to
class with jism on his pants!"

      Laughing, he said,"  Sure as shit don't!  Thanks bud--c'mon in the
locker room with me."

     "O. K., man,"  I said, trying to sound causual, but jeez--I loved
locker rooms--loved the smells, the sounds, the excitement.  Loved naked
boys!  "Lead on, McDuff!"  I (paraphrasing the line from MACBETH  we had
studied last term.

      I followed him into the jock dressing room and he chatted away
about his 'conquests' and 'sex life'  (which I had none of!)  "Yeh, bro,
Ol' Jackie gives great head  but won't swallow and she was late with the
tissues!  Man!  but she will suck me off--which is more than my girl
(Nancy Wallace)  will do.  She's such a goody-- goody she won't even give
me a hand job!"

     Chas continued thrilling me with his 'sex talk'  while he stripped
off his clothes and put on his workout gear.  I was so boned up, and
enjoying my new friendship with a bonafide jock!  I was lost in his words
(and his beautiful long cock--about 6 inches SOFT)  when I heard a voice
from across the room call,  "Hey Fluharty--he your slave, man?"
indicating me.

     I looked over and saw Mike Talarjeck,  Point City Panther's football
quarterback  (naked with an uncut dick jutting out of a dark blonde bush.

     "Nah, Talarjeck,"  Chas said, "  he's my new buddy, Billy Boyton."

      "Buddy--slave--what's the difference?"  he asked.  "Hey,
Billy--Mike said,  "Wanna try out my new breakfast meat?"  He grabbed
that sucker and stroked it in my direction.

     "Nah,"  I said, blushing.

     "Hey, Mike--leave the kid alone, man!"  Chas said.

      Acting like nothing much was bothering me, I picked up Chas' levis
and started toward the machines.

     " Take my underwear, too,"  Chas said, chuckling.

     "Sure, bro.  Want me to put 'em in your locker when they're dry?"  I
said.

      "Nah, Billy, bring 'em upstairs to the wrestlin' gym.  O.K.,
dude?"  he asked.

       I headed to the washing and drying area and looked around.  Seeing
nobody was around, I took his  white briefs and breathed in his 'jock
aroma"--'  Better than CK cologne!'  I thought.

      "Hey, Billy,"  Chas said, stopping short when he saw me smelling
his clothes.  Then he smirked, threw a jock and a pair of workout shorts
to me and said, "Will ya wash these, too, bro?  Then noticing my
embarrassment he said, "Sure ya will, man!"  and turned away, hurrying to
wrestling conditioning, but not before he winked at me!

     I was mortified.  Bu I stayed with his clothes through the washing
and drying cycles, folded them and took 'em upstairs to him.  He was
bench pressing what looked like a lot of weight--groaning and sweating at
the challenge.

     "Hey, Chas!"  Mike Talarjeck bellowed.  "Your maid's here, man.
Ain't she sweet?  Sure you don't want some breakfast milk, dude?  he
asked me, rubbing his pecker through the short workout pants.

      I just blushed and said, "Uh----uh--no, thanks,"  which brought a
chorus of laughter and taunts from the other wrestlin' dudes.

     "I said, leave him alone, man!"  said Chas, grinning as if he was
also in on the secret.  ( I was so embarrassed I left Chas' clothes on
the floor by him and ran outta the gym and to my First Period German 1
class.

      Entering the room, I saw Ms. Pritchard helping some Freshman with
his 'conversation'.  She beamed at me and said, Good Morning to me in
Kraut-speak.  I smiled weakly and stuttered around, but couldn't get any
words out.  I took my seat.  I loved my seat, also because it was next to
my new buddy, Chas!

     A few minutes later, Chas strutted into the classroom----as only a
jock can and I giggled like a schoolgirl suckin' dick when he came up to
me, said,'hi'  and sat down, pullin' on his crotch and straightenin' his
peter.

     'Fuck! What a hunk!'  I thought.  'I'd like to have a bite of that
honeysweet sausage!'

      "Hey, stud!!"  Chas greeted me.

     "Hey bud!,"  I said back.  God!  I was thankf ul for my 'assigned'
seat!  I felt my four incher throwing wood as I lusted after my
crotch-stretching neighbor.  "Man,  Is his always hard,'  I thought

      He flashed his Hollywood-handsome smile and asked me, "Hey, Billy
(I noticed he always called me 'Billy'  when he wanted something!)  "You
understand this irregular verb conjugration shit?"--he motioned to the
German book.

     "It's--'conjugation'  Chas,"  I said "And yeh, bro--I do understand
it.  My dad helps me with it at home.  He works in the chem plant
downtown and has to speak it with his boss."

     " Cool,"  Chas said, "We got study period with ol' Pickle-Boy last
period  (we called Mr. Gerkon, our study hall teacher and my C . P.
(college prep)  English teacher.  ":Let's work on it then, dude."

     "Sure, man,"  I said, settling back to learn the language of the
Huns.  But Chas wanted to chat the whole period and by 8:20 I was so
enthralled  with him I would have run naked into the girls' locker room
if he wanted me to.

     Ms. Pritchard kept giving us dirty looks as we continued our
conversation, but she made no attempt to 'silence' us or 'separate' us
and there was no way I was gonna say, 'SSHHHHH, Chas!'  He was the first
guy I ever fell in love with.  Up till then I was certain I was
'straight.  I always had a girlfriend, but was a little concerned as to
whether or not it was 'normal'  to 'stay soft' when kissing Tiff or
Brittany or feeling their titties.  But, I digress!  On to detention!

     So there I was in German class, fully boned, and sucking up all the
'bullshit' that Chas threw at me about his love-life--about fucking and
getting blown and 'who had the tightest cunt'  and how he hoped he'd get
some pussy tonight.

      It was fuckin' wicked to hear him brag on and on.  This jock talk
 was so different from chatting with my 'prissy' buddies who hardly even
said,'shit'  or 'fuck'.  That adjective (fuckin')  flowed from those
beautiful lips before every noun.  I relished his talk and focused  my
devoted attention on him--alternating glances from his 'hot lips'  to his
swollen bulge, straining against the thin, worn fabric of his denim
Levis.

     Spreading his legs open wide to re-arrange his equipment,  he smiled
at me , again, almost acknowleging my  package' worship.  Lost in my
cockhungry reverie, I didn't notice in the silence that he'd quit
talking.

     "Wha-----huh?"  I said (way too loud) and he whispered 'sshhhh' to
me as Ms. Pritchard glared at us.  I wanted to end the conversation
before we got into trouble--something I had never done at my 'other' high
school.

     "What?"  I said.

     "I asked you how you thought the 'Pirates' were gonna do this
Spring,"Chas asked.

     I looked at him blankly, thinking--'I'm sure he didn't mean 'The
Pirates of Penzance', an operetta I had actually seen in Penzance,
England.

     He gave me that 'never mind, shit-for-brains' look that jocks
reserved for us 'wimps' when discussing sports.  I thought,  'Damn!  I've
lost him now!"

     But he didn't seem to notice my 'sports-ignorance'as he continued,
"Man. baseball's my real game.  I can't wait till Spring to crack the ol'
bat and (he gestured with his body the action required to 'blast one
outta the park'  and I was so charmed that I chuckled out loud.

     "Mr. Boynton--Mr. Flarrety--you two will have detention
(finally--you readers say!)  tonight after school.  Go to Mr. Freeze's
office (the V. P.--discipline)  and call your parents to inorm them.


     "But, Ms. Pr---------,"I said.

     "But, man--that ain't fair!" Chas shouted.

     "Jesus!"  I said very quietly, "You're gonna 'fuckin' get us
expelled, dude.  Cool it!"

     He continued muttering as I led the way outta the class and down the
hall and to the principal's office, a journey I hadn't made since 5th
grade when I screamed 'bullshit' at Ms. Fertilizer  (never knew her real
name, but we called her fertilizer because she 'spread on the lies thick
and even!)  I got spanked that time.  My dad insisted  that Mr. Willford
'lay the board on me'.  So he did.

      One thing I learned about jocks right then--they have the attention
span of fleas!  Right outta the room he was pissed, but as we passed
Julie Wassim, Chas muttered something like, "You want it, baby?"  and
rubbed his cock and balls through his pants.  He even followed her a
couple steps, but quickly turned back to me, saying, "I gotta take a
leak, dude.  Let's stop here (in the boys' john).

     Trailing him into the john, I was unsure what to do with my
iron-like hardon.  I knew I could hardly get it out of my fly, let alone
piss!  But I edged up to the urinal next to him, struggling to pop it
out, very aware of Chas unbuckling his belt, opening the  button fly  on
his 501s and fishing out the rugged  whitesnake with the ruby-red head
and exquisite blue veins.  I was mesmerized!  That Whitesnake charmed me.

     He pissed.  Then he chuckled at my fixation, putting the object of
my lust back inside his lucky denim.  (I wished I were his levis and
could hold him all day.)

      He asked,  "you gonna piss, dude?  Smirking at my confusion, he
winked at me and said,"  C'mon, bro.  We gotta go see THE MAN.

     Struggling to get ol' Waldo (the name I gave my prick--I guess most
guys name theirs)  back in hiding,  I followed Chas outta the restroom,
down the hall and into the principal's office where we got  a lecture and
a phone caall to our parents.

     My dad was outraged at my behavior and at being called at work.
Chas said his ol' lady's never home--so Mr. Freeze left a message for her
to call him (which he documented)  and told us to wait for the bell and
then to go to 2nd Period.

     The rest of the day was pretty uneventful;  I take all C.P. classes
and Chas was in a 'Tech Pathway'  which, no matter how they fancied the
name up, it was still 'dumb-greaser tech school to us C.P. s--they place
where the low I.Q. kids went.  I didn't care that my new buddy's brain
was in his jockstrap  and I'd have kicked the ass of any C.P. wimp who
called my friend 'dumb'.

     Chas was quiet in last period study hall.  Three teachers supervised
that humongous crowd of 'non-studying' students.  And, so, that room was
as silent as Juliet's Tomb  (a little literary symbolism there!)  Most of
us slept, but, like the dweeb I am, I studied for tomorrow's chemistry
test, and  prepared for my tutoring session with my 'awesome  dude.'

     I could see him on the other side of the cafeteria (where they held
this massive 'study pit').  He had his head down, using his arms on the
table in front of him as pillows.  I walked past him once on my way to
the pencil sharpener.  He was asleep, but still stunning with drool
running out of his mouth and onto the table that cradled his handsome
head.

     Finally the dismissal bell rang and I gathered my 'shit' together to
drop off at my locker on the way to detention.  But, again, my eyes were
drawn to the crotch of my 'sleep-waking beauty'  as he stretched and
thrust it forward, hoping to catch the attention of an adoring female (a
trait I noticed all the jocks at this school utilized--they all seemed to
wear their jeans two sizes too small with their packages jutting!)

     Grinning at my baseball guy, I hurried to catch up with him but he
was focused on Jennifer Saltworth, a hot redhead with 'loaded
torpedos!).  He flexed his guns in a salute and wrapped his tree-trunk
arms around her waist  and grabbed her ass.

     Jennifer tittered shyly and 'my' stud was off and tenting again.
"Hey, Jen,"  he smiled seductively, saying, "How 'bout you givin' me a
little piece tonight?"

      Jennifer just laughed  and said, "In your dreams, Chas!  But call
me, o.k.?"

      "I'll call ya, honey, "  he said, rubbing his pecker through his
jeans, playfully.

      "Jesus!, dude,"  he said to me, watching Jen's ass twitch as she
walked away.  Is she hot  or is she hot, Billy!!!"

     "She's hot, Chas," I answered, "But we best get our tardy asses to
detention, bro."

     "Shit, man,"  he said, "You fuckin' worry too much.  Chill!"

     We entered the detention and I followed Chas to the back of the
room--our bodies hidden by the tall auditorium-- style seats.

     "Hey dude", he yelled to Mike Talarjeck.  "See ya after this shit's
over!"

     Then he sat down, unbuckled his belt and fly, took his peter outta
his pants and through his tighty-whiteys.

     "Gosh, Chas,"  I said.  "What you doin' bro?"

     "Billy, I want you to meet someone.  Mr. WeeWee--this is Billy.
Billy--Mr. WeeWee."  He introduced me to huis cock as we had been taught
in Personal Improvement Class.

     "Wha???"  I said.

     " Shake hands with Mr. WeeWee, Billy."  and his pecker twitched as
if nodding to me.  "I SAID--"Shake hands with Mr. WeeWee."

     "But, Chas, I can't........"

     "Sure you can, Billy---just reach out and shake him.  You know you
wanna".  He wasn't smiling.  He wasn't winking.  He wasn't smirking.  He
was dead serious.


      I took Mr. WeeWee in my hand and stroked him, till Chas said.
"Kiss Mr. WeeWee, Billy."

     I quit fighting it.  I licked and kissed that fucker till he blew in
my mouth. I went to Chas' house after school and kissed Mr.  WeeWee all
afternoon  till Mike Talarjeck arrived and introduced me to Mr. Happy.
And I kissed Mr. Happy, too.

      That's how I became the Point City football team's whore.  But
that's another story.