Date: Thu, 6 May 2004 14:11:53 -0700 (PDT)
From: Anonymous Nifty <anonymous_nifty@yahoo.com>
Subject: Science and Soccer Don't Mix - 1

This story is pure fiction and does not portray actual events. Though these
characters are real, they in know way know of this story or any of the
events described to you. You should not read this story if:

You're against homosexual acts
You of illegal age in your area (usually 18)

This story does not show safe sex. Always wear a condom!

Please do not copy or reproduce this story. It is copyrighted to me and
please contact me if you would like to use this otherwise. I will accept
all feedback in the form of praise or suggestion; hate mail and others will
be rejected. Enjoy this story!

Science and Soccer Need to Mix - 1
By Justin. Copyright 2004 All rights reserved.

*A lot of you know me from my previous stories, Pool Hopping and A Lesson
in Biology. This story, however, goes a whole different way than the others
- the only similarity is that the guy in this story is in fact in the same
class that my Lesson in Biology came from.*


Wow. I woke up on this Monday morning and realized that it's the last six
weeks of school. Only five weeks to go, not counting finals. I dragged my
lazy butt out of bed and got dressed, ate some breakfast, and caught the
bus. As I sat on the bus, my mind started reeling and thinking about who I
was. I was Justin. Not some jock, not some popular guy. Just the kid in
Student Council who also gets straight A's and is hated for it. Oh, and
gay...can't forget that. I wasn't a thin swimmer and I wasn't a bulked up
football player. I wasn't fat, just not thin if you get what I mean (its
hard to explain). I was average looking, dark brown hair, about five foot
seven, and a freshman. Don't be impressed or anything.

I went through the day like I always do - bored and unchallenged because I
go to a public school. I love my school and all, but I am not one bit
challenged in any of my classes. Fourth period finally rolled around and I
headed for the infamous Biology (you all know it from my other story) and
sat down in the back, where I have sat since the first day of school. My
friends drifted in and I talked to each one, and then some no-name losers I
could care about came in as well. I sat there thinking about my boring life
when my buddy Brett came in. He sat down next to me, where he has been
since day one, and we started talking.

"Hey Justin," he said. "Why don't you sit in this seat? That way you can
"help" me on the test. I didn't study and I don't understand this stuff."

Typical in all of my classes. Get the genius next to you and you won't
fail. Reminds me of what some jerk used to do (Cam - he started to out me
to the whole school) all the time to make good grades. I sighed and moved
over next to him. She passed out the test and we both got started. As
usual, I flew through the first thirty multiple choice, rushed the
matching, hit the true and false, and finally started on my short
answers. By this time, Brett had just started his matching.

"Justin, what are the muscle contractions that move food through the
esophagus and stomach?"

"Peristalsis," I answered. He wrote it down and I finished my last short
answer. I was about to get up to turn my test in (first as usual) when I
felt a hand on my thigh. Of course, I stayed where I was because getting up
would mean the hand would move. I looked down and saw the hand was
connected to none other than Brett's arm. I looked around and noticed that
the entire back row was gone; it was just him and me. Two of the girls had
a volleyball thing and the other had left for cheerleading.

"What the hell are you doing Brett," I hissed to him.

"Don't worry, just relax. No one will notice."

He was right, no one did. No one even noticed us talking. His hand moved
higher up my thigh and reached my waistband to my shorts. Of course, by
this time, every drop of blood in my body was on its way to my cock. His
hand reached under the waistband and into my boxers. I knew it was coming
and I felt his hand on my now six and a half inch hard cock. I was in
heaven.

"Ooh!" I moaned. No one heard.

"Shh!" he told me. "Someone might hear."

He jacked me off slowly and gently. I felt as if my own hand was doing the
work.

"Justin, don't forget to return the favor."

I knew what I had to do - what gay teenage boy wouldn't. My hand dove into
his pants and around his cock. This would be a good time to describe
Brett. Brett is about five foot eight with sandy blonde hair. He is a
soccer player and a damn good one too. He has such pretty blue eyes and
legs to die for. He has moderate hair under his arms - he tends to put his
hands on his head and basically show me at least twice a day. He has calves
to die for and is so sexy. Back to this, my hand was around his perfect
cock. Six inches with light brown pubes and low-hanging balls. I jacked him
off slowly but with a little force to speed up his orgasm.

Brett must have been pretty horny because he cummed on my hand within at
least two minutes. I let go of his cock, got up, walked to the back of the
room, and grabbed some paper towels. No one even noticed. I went back to my
seat. Brett used his right hand to clean himself up and his left hand to
finally bring me to orgasm. Didn't take long of course before he hand was
filled with my cum. I grabbed some paper towels and cleaned off my cock. I
handed him one, but instead, he ducked down and licked it off his
hand. Wow, that was so hot!

I got up and turned my test in. He was right behind me. We went back to our
seats nice and innocent. :)Or so everyone thought. As I sat down, the bell
rang. On my way out to lunch, he stopped me and whispered in my ear: "Want
to do this again some time?"

That's it for part one. I'll have a part two out on Saturday, I hope. If
not, then Sunday. E-mail me with comments or
ideas. Anonymous_nifty@yahoo.com.