Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 17:21:48 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Stillman <novemberhourglass@yahoo.com>
Subject: g/m high school "Harrad High Sex. Ed. Pt. 3

Harrad High Sex. Ed. Pt. 3
            By

       Tim Stillman

Lord, thank you for making me alive and for sending me to Harrad High.
Amen. Oh where to begin? Today the greatest teacher in the world decided
we should measure each other's penises. Our "cocks." Our "dicks."
Our "fuck sticks." He said fuck sticks are like fish sticks on boys
that can be eaten but never be devoured, and are much tastier.

Well, as a jokester, he ain't much. But as a teacher, he is so nice. He
got the ruler and passed it to Billy of the squat stomach, and Billy,
naked as all of us students of course, stood up and measured his, then
all of us gradually gathered round and he measured all of ours. The red
headed kid, Jimmy, had the most delicious looking. Albert of pale and
frail had the nicest. It just begged to be kissed. It bounced up and
down. We laughed. Kind of a wiggle your ears thing turned to wiggle your
penis.

The jock, Ralph, had the smallest but the thickest. Jordi had a lovely
penis, not as lovely as Albert's but close to it.  We touched each
other's pubes. Hesitantly, some. But that hesitation was short. The ones
who had the sparsest pubic hair I liked to touch most. It was downy like
a baby rabbit fur and soft. There was some pubic hair that was wiry and
that in its way was hot too, especially when I imagined tasting it with
my tongue.

Then Terry measured mine and rubbed the ruler on the under side of my
stick up my little more than five inches. It felt so incredibly good, my
penis all but giggled. We were gathered round each other now. Closer and
closer. I hadn't even seen it happening. It just suddenly was.  Terry
kept rubbing the ruler up and down me. Then an amazing thing happened,
the red haired boy with the sparse but cute pubic hair kissed me on the
lips. I backed up startled. Jimmy, I thought. Jimmy? The all-round boy,
always cursing at lunch and telling fag stories? That Jimmy? Yep.

And he looked embarrassed when I pulled back. As he pulled back too. But
then there was this crush of bodies as we just came together in a naked
boy clump. All those heated bodies. All that flesh. All those cocks. All
those lips and noses and mouths to be kissed. Inches and less away from
me. Who ever would have thought?

As if there were a certain high school desperation coming to the fore
here. Mr. Morgan explained it later. He said, "All of us crave love and
friendship. We are always searching for it. For an arm round the
shoulder. For a kind smile directed at us. For somebody to let us know we
are ok. Because for most everybody, the jockiest jocks, the most popular
boy with all the girls, we are always--lacking. Always--incomplete. How
many of you stare at the mirror at night and wish your nose wasn't too
big, or that you had different colored hair? Or that your eyes aren't
the right color? That your face doesn't look like you want it to? Like
you see it inside your mind."

And when, later, he told us that, we nodded. Someone said "right on."
Someone said "'bout time we heard that." There were lots of
"cool's" and "damn right." And for me at least, twenty pounds of
pressure was off my shoulders. I had been feeling that as long as I could
remember. And now it--was--gone. What a relief. What a great feeling.

He told us now to just hold each other like this. To feel our bodies and
to touch with hands if we liked. Oh, we liked. Indeed, we did. And it was
so good to feel cocks against my naked legs and against my own hard on.
Pressing chests to chests. Sides to sides. Grinding like we were fucking.
Rubbing each other's cocks. And pubic hair. And navels. And abdomens.

And Terry rubbing my grateful dick now with his hand and in earnest.
Jimmy and I kissed big time now. Even with our tongues. It made me so
hard I almost shot then and there. Someone was pressing his hand against
my butt cheeks. I pushed my butt out and the hand got to rubbing
more--intensely. I almost shot my seed right there as Albert knelt in
front of me, pushing some boys away so he could do this. Albert? Pushing
someone away? And the pushees letting him? Wow.

 We were all in this holy mackerel group grope and we were jerking each
other off and playing with nipples--Jordi had the cutest, small barely
visible ones but hard now--and some boys did shoot off and I felt some
cum shoot out on my stomach which made me cum hard. Some splattered my
face. Other boys had cum on their arms and abdomens and in their hair.
And we loved every second of it. Then I spurted.

And eyes closed, now opened again, I saw Albert catch my cum with his
hand. No longer shy Albert. He rubbed it in his hand, curious like, then
touched it to his lips and tasted it--I thought I was going to die--then
he rubbed it into his chest, and began to cuddle my throbbing hard on
with his hands and face. Man, was I in dreams Ville.

As Jordi examined the pubic hair of all the boys, including mine, and
smiled up at me. But there was sadness in his eyes. He had wanted to do
what Albert did to me. I smiled down at him and said, "tomorrow?" And
Jordi nodded an eager yes.

Jimmy was rubbing his hand against his chest and poking his dick against
the butt cheeks of Terry who had now turned round and was bending over as
much as he could in the closed tightly group. When we had all cum and all
touched each body--all different feeling, all different aromas, all
different mouths and faces and skin textures--all of us alone in our
bodies that needed other bodies to make us less alone in such a big world
of such crowed scared people.

Lots of this philosophizing came from Mr. Morgan after we were through
and after we cleaned up and sat, gloriously naked, in our chairs yet
again. We talked and he talked. Then he said, how did it feel?

Bobby of the cumbersome dick said, "Oh man, I never knew anything could
be so hot." And we laughed and others said it was true, that they had
never been this hot even with chicks; and they had been pretty damn hot
with chicks too. Everyone laughed at that as well.

"You've advanced a bit sooner than I anticipated," Mr. Morgan said.

"We aren't through yet, are we?" asked Larry of the coca color skin.
"We'll unadvance. Honest."

Mr. Morgan laughed softly. "No, it's not that at all. We've got a ways
to go. I meant that as a compliment. You've gotten used to this much
sooner than I thought. That shows you are your own persons. That you are
willing to try things. That society has not totally indoctrinated you
yet."

"Will there ever be girls here?" asked Ralph, all manly and hairy.

"Perhaps," said Mr. Morgan. "We've not worked everything out yet.
Let's wait and see."

"Mr. Morgan?" Albert asked, voice no longer quite as squeaky.

"Yes, Albert?"

"Will we ever see you naked, sir?" This time Albert did not blush or
stammer and no one thought it an odd question, a sex question, coming
from him, not now. Not after what they had seen.

Mr. Morgan who was in his early 20's but who looked younger, had long
hair pulled back in a ponytail, was thin, and had a kind face, olive
skin, and silver blue eyes. He said he had wondered when we would notice
that and was "crushed, do you hear me? crushed it took this long for
someone to ask." Then he put his head on his right fist and mocked
crying, which got everybody going and teasing him. He looked at us. "All
in good time. Now about your sex books."

We loved those pictures and the naked bodies. There were even men and men
and women and women and women and men sucking and fucking. The greatest
textbook in the world too, by damn.

Mr. Morgan said, "Class time is about up." We groaned. Played with our
cocks a little more, enjoying the rest of class while we could. "So
tomorrow, I want everyone to think about this phrase--`making love'--
and what it means. So maybe you could share your ideas with us tomorrow.
Including demonstrating them?"

We all but cheered. No, come to think of it, we did cheer. Mightily.

So now I'm going to be awake all night tending to my penis, telling it I
will jack off only once because I don't want to not be in the mood
tomorrow-ha! --And waiting with baited breath for school. For school?

Yea! Long Live Harrad High!!!!