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The old auditorium had been given over to our year for prelims and finals. It wasn’t massive – just about the size of two regular classrooms, which is what it would be converted to after finals were over. It once housed the whole school for morning assemblies, but as the student population grew, it had become impossible to fit everyone inside. They’d then built something much grander, with all the money they’d made off their excessive fees.
So it had been a practical choice to just shove the whole Matric class in there for prelims, and fortunately it was just big enough. There were only forty-five of us, after all. The year above us had been smaller, so they’d fit in a single classroom, and the year below us was so big they’d probably have to be put in multiple classes anyway.
‘Preliminary examinations’ were in full swing. They were apparently very important, and we were supposed to be suitably terrified. But the question papers were still drawn up by our teachers, and they were also in charge of making sure we didn’t cheat, so the impact on our final grades would be quite low compared to the much more rigorously structured finals. I’d heard from my siblings that the whole point of prelims was to be so difficult that you got a terrible mark and studied harder for finals, anyway.
But seeing as I’d been studying with Louis, Angela and Sue this whole time, and actually putting in effort for once, I really wasn’t worried. Maybe I should have been – my brother had even phoned me up to ‘prepare’ me for how much I was going to struggle, but we’d done one of the Maths papers and the Accounting paper already, and I’d breezed through them. And Sue and I had been terrified about Accounting, but we’d both thought that it had gone fine. After that one, everything else felt easy.
Was I being cocky? Maybe, but I didn’t think so. I’d never worked this hard in my life. Part of it was Louis and Angela’s good influence, but I’d also been throwing myself at schoolwork so that I didn’t have to deal with the Eric thing – either talking to him too much, or thinking about how he’d react when I told him I didn’t want to be with him any more.
Or the Jamie thing, actually. He was still coming to my house a few nights a week, and had been since the Science Fair. But lately all that happened was that he’d get there, we’d have our fun, and I’d send him home, so I could carry on studying. It felt uncomplicated now, and I hadn’t wanted to kiss him again. I still didn’t know how I felt about that, but it didn’t seem important any more.
The last thing I was worried about, though, was not being prepared for this particular prelim, which was our English Literature paper. Angela and I had written a dozen essays on each of the setworks – Anthony and Cleopatra, The Catcher in the Rye, Disgrace – and we’d discussed them back and forth. Louis and Sue had just read them and asked us questions. She’d been slightly more panicked about it than he had, naturally, but all four of us felt pretty ready.
I wasn’t trying to cram facts into my head before the test, because I didn’t have to. Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have, because Ellie had commandeered my notes and was busy rifling through them urgently. I had my phone out, and was keeping one eye on the door for when Mrs. A came back in. I was busy chatting as casually as I could to Eric, enjoying the brief stretch of freedom before the test.
[Oh my god]
[I almost forgot to tell you]
[I met someone online who goes to your school]
[He’s in your year]
______________[You know there are like 20 guys in my year.]
______________[It’s not like you’ve found a unicorn.]
______________[Well you could have led with that.]
[Can I tell him about you?]
______________[There are definitely people in my year I don’t trust.]
[He says I can tell you about him.]
[His name’s Nick.]
Well, that had happened suddenly. I wasn’t exactly shocked at who it was. Nick sort of embodied a lot of gay stereotypes. I hadn’t automatically assumed it, but having hung out with a group of homophobes in the past, it wasn’t as if I’d never heard it muttered about him either.
He was Angela’s main competition in Art class – he didn’t have her technical skill, but she didn’t have his prodigal creativity. He was kind of the school’s go-to authority on any sort of grand art or design project – set pieces for musicals, banners for events, nativity scenes around Christmas. That sort of thing.
His dad owned a custom furniture company, and helped him with a lot of his work, so everything he did was usually immaculate and incredibly professional. But that was all I really knew about him – he was very soft-spoken, and I thought I’d heard him say about five words through-out all our time at school together.
I looked over at him. His back was to me, and he was sitting around istanbul travesti the table with his friends – Lea, Clair, Samantha and Tiffany – and periodically checking his phone.
[So you do know him?]
______________[Again, there are like 20 guys in my year, so I obviously know who he is.]
______________[But I don’t know him that well.]
______________[Don’t tell him about me yet.]
______________[I don’t need to be worrying about that during prelims.]
[Okay, that’s fine]
[Don’t tell anyone about him]
______________[Yeah, of course.]
______________[Have to go.]
I shoved my phone in my bag, and made an effort to avoid looking directly at Nick. Talking to Ellie about it would have been nice, but she seemed busy with the notes, and I didn’t exactly want to out Nick to her – despite how ready he’d been for me to know.
I kept him in my peripheral vision though, just to make sure he wasn’t looking over at me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I wasn’t entirely sure I could trust Eric to keep me being gay a secret. He’d told Louis without my permission, after all. Every now and then I’d sweep my eyes over the rest of the room, in an attempt to act casual while still keeping an eye on Nick.
Jamie was over at the next table. After breaking up with Megan, he’d eventually started hanging out with his friends again, and after the holidays he’d stopped hanging out with me and Ellie so much – during the daylight hours, anyway. Matt was pouring over notes, and Ryan had a pained and panicked expression on his face. Drew and Jamie were casually chatting, and making jokes which Ryan didn’t seem to be enjoying. One of the things they said made him flinch, and they both laughed.
“Don’t be a fag, man.” Drew said, tossing a pencil at him. Jamie laughed.
I looked over sharply, fixing my eyes on Jamie’s, and his laughter quickly died down. He, of all people, shouldn’t have been laughing at that. Matt very calmly looked up from his notes, and punched Drew in the shoulder.
“Don’t say that word man.” His tone was serious. “That’s fucked up. You sound like a bible-basher asshole.”
“Fine, sorry.” Drew held up his hands.
I looked away, and frowned. Ellie was still busy with the notes, so I couldn’t do anything but sit there and fume. When my phone buzzed, I picked it up, eager for a distraction, but not finding a particularly useful one. It was a message from Jamie.
[Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed]
[It was stupid and bad]
I shoved my phone away just as Mrs. A stormed in, flustered, with the question papers. The test was exhausting. I’m not really made for handwriting page after page after page. By the time we were done my hand was covered in ink, and cramping up. I thought I’d handled the topic well, though.
We’d gotten to choose which setwork we wanted to write about, and I’d chosen Anthony and Cleopatra, because I’d liked the quote they wanted us to base the essay off of. While I was busy reading the others, the idea had lodged in my mind, and I’d ran with it.
Anthony hadn’t been Cleopatra’s first choice – Caesar had been brought low by treachery, after all – but she’d had to adapt. To move on. Anthony had played along, and why not? None of the politics of Rome had been as serious. For him, it had never been the politics of survival that Caesar and Cleopatra had always had to be proficient at. Ultimately Cleopatra, Egypt personified, wasn’t served by her entanglement with the seemingly unlimited power of Caesar, and Anthony had been a poor consolation prize.
It was indulgent bullshit, but I had a lot of fun writing it, and I’d peppered it with all the themes the question had suggested. So Mrs. A would probably give me a lot of grief as commentary, but I’d still hit all the points I needed for a decent grade. She tended to get mad when I ‘pandered to standardised testing’, but since she was on the national board that ran our syllabus, I’d always found that a little hypocritical.
As fun as it had been, I was glad it was over. We didn’t have another test for a while, and I’d only be meeting up with the others to study late the next day, so I was able to spend the afternoon reading, playing games, napping and hanging out with my family. Even that last one seemed kind of appealing, after how hard I’d been working.
By the time my phone buzzed that evening, I’d almost forgotten how mad I was at Jamie. Almost.
Ugh. After laughing along with Drew’s casual homophobia, he wanted to come suck my dick. On the same day. I sighed.
We’d all focused and worked hard for the English prelim. It was the only subject where I ever felt in real danger – if you had a bad day that happened to line up with a test, you were screwed. So I wasn’t proud, but I hadn’t seen Jamie for over a week at that point, and saying no didn’t really feel like an option. Plus, I couldn’t be istanbul travestileri sure he wouldn’t buckle down for the physics test – which was only three days away – and be less likely to come over.
My brain wasn’t making the decisions that night anyway. The best it could do was play catch up to my unruly body. I just wanted to relax, and have fun. And if romantic feelings for Jamie didn’t seem necessary for the sort of things we did together, I was willing to go without even friendly feelings for just one evening.
It didn’t mean I was in the mood to be nice though. When he got to my gate, I just quietly opened it for him.
“Hey,” he said, and I just nodded and walked back to my room.
While I was sucking him off, it was fine. It wasn’t as if it was Jamie – it was just a dick. Which was a weird way to think about it, but it got me there. It was hard in my mouth and leaking precum, and when a disembodied voice shouted “I’m cumming” I let the fluid fill my mouth and swallowed, incredibly turned on.
It was only when I rose to my feet, and he dropped to his knees – when I could suddenly see his face – that I remembered it was him, after all. I was still annoyed, but insanely horny, so I was hardly about to stop him as he wrapped his mouth around my cock. His attention was elsewhere as I frowned down at him. I grabbed his hair, and began to control his rhythm, forcing him onto me. He gagged slightly, but he didn’t resist or try to say anything, so I didn’t stop.
It happened a few more times, and after a particularly violent reaction of his, I smirked, unable to help myself. “Is the word ‘fag’ funny now?”
He just moaned – maybe a laugh, maybe an apologetic noise – and continued to bob away at my dick. The hum of the sound sent a vibration through me. I bucked my hips, causing him to gag a bit more, and before I knew it I was letting go. He was still struggling, so I pulled out, and a few squirts of my cum hit him in the face and dribbled down onto his chest.
His eyes were watering slightly, and he looked directly up at me, rubbing his dick at an incredible speed. He groaned, and I stepped back – out of the way – as his body convulsed. He sprayed ropes of cum, and they began to puddle on the floor.
He let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a gasp. “God, that was fucking hot.”
I didn’t reply, and just walked over to the bedside table, grabbing the towel and tossing it to him. Still frowning, I headed to the shower, a little bit shocked at how I’d just behaved. It didn’t seem to have bugged him much – within a few seconds, he climbed into the shower after me and latched his hand onto my dick, and within a few minutes we were both orgasming again, our cum washing down the drain.
Once he’d gotten dressed, his eyes fell on the Physics notes I’d set out on my desk for the next day. “Hey, would you mind if I checked these out quickly?”
“I guess.” I shrugged. I hadn’t planned on going to sleep immediately, and I was feeling a bit guilty for getting so rough with him, even if it seemed like he’d enjoyed it. “I was just going to read and relax a bit.”
“Okay.” He winked. “Just kick me out when you’re tired, kay?”
“Sure.” I was prepared to ignore him, and since I was planning on staying up a little later anyway, it didn’t seem like too much of a problem.
He grabbed my notes, and went to sit down on the couch to flip through them. After a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed my book and sat down on the opposite end, facing him. It was this trashy, generic bit of sci-fantasy, but I loved it. Everyone’s getting their limbs replaced with beautiful and super-strong crystal prosthetics, but it turns out the crystal substance is connected to some sort of sinister entity that’s starting to control them all.
It’s a really easy read, so when Jamie starts peppering me with physics questions, it’s not too difficult for me to answer him. I mostly ended up just directing him to the right place in my notes, and clarifying one or two things when they weren’t clear.
After a while, it was obvious his attention had started drifting – he asked about my book, my social plans, whether I knew if anything new had happened with Ellie and Gary. I brushed him off the best I could, but I was beginning to get drowsy, and I considered sending him home.
He looked over at me and grinned. “So…You ever get fucked?”
“What?” That woke me up.
“Like, a penis in your ass.”
“I know what you meant, but Jesus.” I rubbed my forehead. “No, I haven’t.”
“What about the other way around. You ever fuck a guy?”
I closed my book. “No.”
“I wonder what it feels like. Getting fucked.”
“I’ve heard it hurts.” I shrugged. I hadn’t been ready to try it out with Eric when we were still together.
He tilted his head. “Yeah, but, it’s supposed to be good once you’re over that, isn’t it? Like, the prostate is up there.”
“I stuck my finger up my butt once while I jerked off.” He grinned. “You ever done that?”
“NO,” I said – emphatically. I had, but travesti istanbul this conversation was going in a weird direction, and I was feeling awkward and horny again.
“It was awesome. Great orgasm. Bit messy though.”
“Gross.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “You can prepare for anal. Heard of douching?”
“Yes.” I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve heard of douching?”
“Yeah, sure.” He laughed. “They sell kits in pharmacies. It’s not like… a big secret thing.”
I didn’t say anything. I’d begun to suspect what he was going for, but I really hoped I was wrong. There was something familiar about this conversation – like the night he’d convinced me to let me get a blowjob from him.
“I’d let you fuck me,” he said casually. “If you want to.”
FUCK. I was not wrong. But I still didn’t know how to respond to that. “Jamie…”
“You don’t have to decide like right away. I’d need to get ready for it, anyway.”
I sighed. “Right.”
“I’m just saying I’m open to the idea, and you should think about it.”
I paused for a moment, and then shrugged, looking back down at my book. He wanted to be calm and casual about this? Fine. So could I. Or, at least, I could pretend to. “Okay.”
I didn’t look up. “I’ll think about it.”
I sat there for a second, and then looked up, pursing my lips.
“I’m tired.” I smirked. “Get out.”
He put down my notes and laughed. “Yes, Sir!”
I let him out, and as he walked across the street to his car, I couldn’t help but check out the shape of his ass in his shorts as he sauntered away. And since it was Jamie, of course he caught me looking – he’d probably been walking that way on purpose. Before he drove off, he gave me a mock-salute, and winked.
He kept texting me peach emojis that week, which I’m sure he thought was hilarious.
He probably knew that my calm promise to think about it was a bluff. In reality, I had no idea what to do. I still hadn’t told Ellie, and this was hardly a good time to start. Louis knew now, even if he didn’t know it was Jamie. Louis could probably even give me some incredibly helpful advice, but I just didn’t even know how to start that conversation. I didn’t want him to think less of me.
It’s not like I even knew what he’d done with guys before. He never really talked about that sort of thing. I pretty much only knew that something had gone on between him and Eric, and then it ended. I’d vaguely picked up hints that Eric was not the first guy he’d ever done stuff with, and he seemed to know a lot. But that wasn’t much to go on.
In the end though, I didn’t feel like I had any other choice. Louis had never made me feel bad about asking or telling him something before, and it seemed like he never really judged people. I eventually worked up the nerve to just message him, and regretted the way I chose to start that conversation immediately.
______________[I don’t know much about your sexual history.]
[Well, good. My family doctor can keep a secret. :D]
______________[Sorry, awkward way to approach the topic.]
[Hahah. No, it’s fine. I know I don’t talk much about it.]
[I get that there’s a degree of curiosity, for your own reasons]
[I’m just not exactly the kind to volunteer that sort of info]
[And it’s not as if you’ve ever asked]
______________[Can I ask?]
______________[Don’t laugh at me if I don’t know how to talk about it, okay?]
[I won’t. I promise.]
I couldn’t quite figure out how to start. I typed a few things, and then quickly deleted them. Eventually, it was clear that he was getting a bit impatient.
[Just ask ANYTHING]
______________[This is hard.]
[That’s what he said! :D]
[Is this helping yet?]
[I’ll be serious :|]
______________[Okay, well, then I’ll just be blunt]
______________[Have you done it?]
______________[Giving or receiving?]
[The guy I met before Eric]
[We dated for about 2 years, and we did pretty much everything]
[Everything I could think of, anyway]
[Well, first he put the condom on…]
______________[WITH THE RELATIONSHIP!]
[Do you want a sex talk or not? :D]
[Make up your mind]
[But yeah, he moved away]
[It really sucked]
______________[I can imagine.]
[We probably wouldn’t have lasted, in the long run]
[At least that way, it was this tragic, romantic thing]
[Why are you asking all this, anyway?]
______________[The relationship stuff is a tangent.]
[Yeah, I assumed]
[You want to know about ANAL]
[Well it’ll be easier to give you helpful info if I know WHY]
______________[That guy I told you about wants me to fuck him]
He took a while to respond to that. I paced back and forth, feeling stressed out, while I waited for his answer.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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