Harrad High Sex Ed. Day 8--The Final Class
By
Tim Stillman
(To R.J. for helping the story along, and for suggesting a massive part of this chapter; all the flaws, as usual are solely mine. To Terrance, for trying mightily, to salvage a sinking ship)
(Feedback much appreciated on my story, with thanks. Tim at novemberhourglass@yahoo.com)
This is going to be tough for me. It's our third class after Christmas break. Course, lots of the guys are pretty excited that the girls will be in Sex Ed with us soon. I guess, in a way, it's the fair thing to do. Ralph and Devon said they were uptight get getting more uptight with having sex with other guys. So it's only right we reverse the tables. And, who knows, there might be something in there cool for us too. But Matthew is just so out of it, now that whatever has happened to Bobby, has happened. Maybe sex with girls too will bring him out of it.
I find myself loving Jordi every minute more than I loved him the minute before. I find myself feeling something for every guy in this class. Jordi says we'll be together and make our own Sex Ed. Class. And I think that is great. I miss the video assignments. I am worried, however, he will fall for a girl. He says not to worry. I still do.
The one of Devon shaving his pubes was fun. He used a straight razor, and put tons of shaving cream on his pubic hair. His dick was hard all the time, the head poking up proudly. He shaved himself bald down there, and then he wiped off the shaving cream, and put alcohol on his groin, while screaming mightily.
The class laughed and applauded him. Mr. Morgan said, "Ah, that could be really dangerous, class. I know it was just fun on a boring afternoon. But, please remember those blood-curdling screams. Hurt like hell, obviously, and a nick on your cock or balls could make for an afternoon to remember, that you would really like to forget. Prepare to itch, Devon, when it all starts growing in again. But I have to tell you, you made a memorable video."
I miss finally being able to hand over the video Jordi and I made over Christmas break. It was so hot, really. Jordi fucked me. Yep, he did. Hear that world?????
It was the first video that Mr. Morgan showed that third day of January classes. I was embarrassed. Seeing myself on my bed, on my hands and knees, still with my BVDs on, cause Jordi said once he got turned on me just in my underwear. Jordi was rubbing the tip of his hard on against my ass in my white briefs, as I rubbed my tent pole through them. I rubbed the material of the briefs against my cock. It felt incredibly good.
My ass, though, wanted him to go inside. My dick was so stiff. He leaned over and kissed my back in our warm room, with the snow thick and falling still outside our windows. My room is his now. And he is me. I can't visualize life without him. He says the same about me. He slowly pulled down my briefs. Everybody was watching the video of him naked and kissing me. I couldn't look at it for a while, but Jordi was stroking my dick and said everybody was watching, even Ralph, so I should watch too. So, gradually, I looked. I was impressed.
Jordi was putting lube on my hole and on his cock. He took a rubber and put it on, then. We had the video camera on my desk. It's so bizarre seeing yourself on tape, especially when we were doing sex. Jordi put his hands to my hole.
I looked at the action now, and looked around the class. Everybody, everybody, was hard and some were masturbating really slowly. Wanting it to last. Jordi and I were hands on each other, as we watched little us in the picture. We laughed as the image of my ass was wiggling, when he put his cock head closer in, just so delicately to my hole that was puckered. I almost came that night, right there.
I backed into his cock a little. The boys' eyes were riveted to the screen. Even Matthew was watching. He had a hard-on in spite of himself, but it was more like his body remembering Bobby, for his face. Especially, his eyes were sad.
And it hurt, being fucked. Let no one kid you. Jordi was so nice. He was so smooth and edible. He would stop as soon as I said to. Well, it hurt all the way through that first time, but he was as gentle as he could be. He didn't stick himself totally into me, I saw, not knowing, which made me feel kind of disappointed I couldn't take him in all the way. But I knew I would--soon.
I had not looked at the tape before class, because I didn't dare, in case it was humiliating. The two of us, teenagers in love, fucking. But he had about half his dick in me. That disappointed me. I thought I had taken all of him in. But come a day soon, when I will. Then we were fucking. That he was rubbing his hands up and down on my ass cheeks was so great to see, to feel and relive it all over again and again. It was very awkward at first. Like a rusty car motor just turning over after a hard icy winter. But soon we were getting the hang of it.
Jordi and I were groaning. I felt like screaming. It was like his cock was suddenly gigantically hard in my butt. And I was so infinitesimal (yes, Jordi, thank you. I've heard the word before.) It tore something in me. I bled, but just a little.
But who cared? It was Jordi doing it; therefore, hurt that way is not bad. We were moaning, and saying things like "I love you baby," and "fuck me, man, shoot your hot sticky load in my asshole," We made lots of unintelligible (Jordi's words rubbing off on me, it seems--ha--again) sounds. I looked at some of the boys. Two were sucking each other. Looking up from the mattress. It made me hot, seeing Jordi fucking me. I saw his tongue come out and lick his lips and his eyes close in happiness, and how I looked being fucked, my face all scrunched up, the blood rushing to my head as I held it downward. My hair was fallen over my face. I was pushed back and forth by Jordi.
He was inside a boy's most private place. After a while, he got more merciless and started doing it harder. I did yell, at that point, which made him slow a bit. But I didn't want him too. He doubled a hand to a fist and pounded on my back. My hard on was sticking straight out. I was trying to rub it. Then, I was getting into Jordi's fucking me so hard again, I let that go. My balls were flapping back and forth.
That was kind of funny.
I noticed Devon had gotten down on the mattress too. He was fucking Jimmy of the bright red hair and the red pubes, or trying to, at least. Jimmy turned over and said, "Later, man; that hurts like hell." Some of the other boys had put on their boxers and briefs, because Jordi fucked me in my briefs at the start of the tape. That turned me on as well. It seemed to turn on almost everybody else too.
Larry had his boxers on now, his dick sticking out the slit. Albert had gone over to Larry and was sucking Larry's fuck stick now. Larry had his head leaning back and was moaning, rubbing Albert's naked chest and arms and back. He also was tracing Albert's face with his left hand. Larry was making the loudest groans in class. There were plenty loud groans going on too, believe you me. Much of it was because Jordi and I were fucking on that screen.
The pain of being fucked, and the absolute joy of it. Couple that with the feel of his cock head first entering my hole, with the sounds of him squishing in and out and our mouth noises, mix that in with the way he put his hands on my shoulders and took total possession of me, with my hips, slender, but his hips more so. Add to that tangled, hard and pumping like our asses. Put it against a background of snow through windows. Then take one boy, name of Jordi, rising up and pinching his tits, so it results in the Morse Code of our love, deep and true and honest.
The little chapters of complete circle, that were clock ticks of more and more commitment between us. We weren't kids anymore. When Jordi, my Jordi, finally was ready to cum, he pulled out of me, told me to turn over, in no uncertain terms, I might add, then he shot his Jordi cum on my chest and navel and nipples. He sat up high between my legs and he came more than ever. It was this wild cascade, this splendid boy eruption. As we panted for breath, we both rubbed his cum into my body. We hadn't fucked since then. I want to fuck him next. But we have to wait a while, for him to fuck me again. My butt is still pretty sore. But he rubs baby lotion on it, which makes it feel so very much better. Sigh.
As we finished on the screen, some before, some after cum ejected all around the classroom. There was some ragged applause--many boys were still having cums--but when they finished, the entire class roared and slammed their hands together. Jordi took my hand and helped me stand up, my penis leaking cum. He bowed to the class. So did I. They gave us a standing ovation. That is in many meanings of that phrase, as we returned them. Mr. Morgan applauded too. Then after everything went to a mute gabble and then to silence, he sat on his desk. We talked about the video.
But we knew from how he looked, that this was his last day, teaching us. To have him say so, I think, quite broke our hearts. He was asked, would he come back, but he shook his head, no. He smiled at us again, and said, "Remember me?"
And we shouted we would remember him forever, plus two days just in case. He looked at us one of those looks that said, no, you wouldn't. Not for two days. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But I didn't say it, in case he was right.
Someone said, "Can we at least see you naked, Mr. Morgan. In your underwear please?"
And the thing was picked up by almosteverybody--"Plllllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssssssssss sssss."
Mr. Morgan, without a word, stood up and took off his tie, his white business shirt, his shoes and socks. Some of us licked on his body with our eyes. He had looked so ordinary in his clothes. Wow, clothes not only cover. They also disguise. He was in buff shape.
Then he took off his black pants and briefs and stopped.
"Mother of God," somebody said. "A hem," from another boy. We were all looking at that big thick---what was that? A third leg for real hanging by his outer left leg? It was his--our eyes almost exploded out of our heads--dick. Pardon me. That should be MR. DICK, SIR, that was so--impending--and so--pink and angry looking, and getting more so. How could we have not seen an outline or something all this time? And it was-alive! We were so grateful it was cut. Least I was, so I could see every single inch of his penis without a hood over it.
Getting bigger, being unveiled at long last, as he freed it, as it seemed to fight him, being tangled in his underwear. He fought the rising column, untangled it at long last with much might, as it bulled free, bigger than Godzilla's, or Godzilla himself, as he yanked it to the top of his briefs, pulled them finally down, freeing sun burst big balls.
We applauded. It loomed high above as Mr. Morgan continued looking at us all the time, musing on his secret being revealed. It rose. And it slammed against him, against his thick black pubes and his abdomen and navel and up and up, like it was made of pure steel. It gleamed and was so magnificent, as it got so high and was so firm and so heavy; we wondered how it did not topple over the room. Or the world, even, for here was the fulcrum to move said world.
It had a head as big as a huge magic mushroom in one's wildest trips. The shaft was hugely made seeming of wood, around which it seemed the biggest of fists could not encircle. And it was so detailed and so unbelievable. I expected leaves to sprout from it and branches as it rose through the clouds, as Jack climbed it. Good old Mr. Morgan. There is life beyond 25. Maybe, who knows, even to 27 possibly?
It was a tower of flesh and muscle and blood. It stretched his skin to the glistening breaking point. He pulled his dick in both hands as he held the head of it out of us. We jumped back. Scared. His balls were like sorcerer's huge globes of pink pulsing skin. He was not a freak, not at all. Anyone else would have been. Not him. And that, Jordi is trying to explain to me, is one of the main reasons for today and for the class. He said this is the ultimate lesson. Now we know. Now we put it in perspective.
All I knew then was:
He was more like-Zeus. More like--God. The question of his being asexual was doused. We had talked about him, and had decided that he may not have even had a dick, because he never got excited at the stuff we did in class or on our videos, for surely we would see it in his crotch of his pants, no matter how straight he might possibly be. Well, the dick that ruled the world put that theory of his penis having been burned off in a fire to rest for good and all.
Then (and this made me jealous as hell; go figure) Albert--poor Albert--poor stupid Albert--or maybe brave Albert--made it to the front of the room in two seconds flat, his mouth slavering juice, his hard on laughing all the way, and screeched to a Road Runner kind of skidding halt, in front of Mr. Morgan. He gobbled in as much of that dick as he could, which just a fraction, though he gagged some as it must have hit the back of his throat, making all kinds of slurping sucking noises.
He pushed Mr. Morgan, of the lightly muscular body, the hard small red tits, the concave stomach, the well taken care of abs and pecs, the strong, muscular legs, and the powerful arms that seemed they could protect the whole world including us for always, right back over his desk. Yes, weak, pale Albert did that and just sucked and rubbed greedily that huge dick and those tight steel -baring balls.
Other boys were rubbing their dicks on his face, while waiting for him to finish off two dicks in his mouth, which he did, not with greed, but yeah I know already, Jordi, always horning in, or horneying in-- élan. Mr. Morgan. A teacher good to the last drop. Some accidentally came on his face. Then they licked the cum off. Mr. Morgan laughed happily at their tongues tickling him. Other boys were coming on other parts of his body. His tits especially took mother loads. And were hard and berry size.
I thought of all that talk about dick size not counting, and have decided it's true--if you don't have it, so what? Most nobody else does either--not everyone's Brad Pitt, but it doesn't stop your life. I love Jordi's dick, because it's Jordi's. Jordi says he loves mine because it's mine. And that, as a poet once said in a totally different context, makes all the difference.
But this was like meeting a movie star. Little did we know what we were about to find out.
You can only have a moment of his time. But, it lives forever in your mind. This would make Jordi and me hot for months, and our sex even wilder. It was so funny. There was Ralph and Albert and everybody, except Matthew, sitting back there, sulking, all over Mr. Morgan's body, like he was made of honey and they were starving to death bees. Sucking on his tits and feeling every inch of him with hands and cocks and bodies. Devon, not sure about gayness, sure was sure about tongue kissing Mr. Morgan. Boys were shooting off all over him and he was covered with their jism.
As boys took turns sucking, wanting to win the magic ring of his coming in THEIR MOUTH, Jordi and I licked round the shaft and up and down and all around the town. We kissed his pubic hair. And he rubbed our penises with his hands and made Jordi and me cum at the same time. Jordi and I leaned over and kissed each other.
Then it was back to Mr. Morgan's dick. It was warm and hard and smelled so nice. Jordi and I touched our tongues round Mr. Morgan's, as they say in the porno books, "monstrous organ." It was so much fun watching our faces and each other's tongues licking the hot throbby, veiny cock, which Mr. Morgan, later on, after he got his breath back, said measured a little over 10 inches.
He later told us, shortly before the bell rang, he had been a porno star. One of the big draws in gay films. He said he was crushed we didn't recognize him. Then he laughed and said that was okay. He said, "In fact, I had some DVDs of my--acting--laying around somewhere--oh, right," he continued, as he pulled out his desk drawer. He started laying them on the desk and we all made a hurried rush for them. We would have him forever. Hooray!!! And Holy Mother of God, would we ever remember him!!!!! Even the cover pictures--teach and some darker man with a heavy mustache and olive colored skin and eyes, tongue kissing him, their spit visible in the close up, made us want to cum right then and there.
His porn name was Humpy. Of course, Jordi said, rolling his eyes, but he came too. And good old Humpy, last thing, turned round so we could see his muscled back and rear. We all put our dicks to it one at a time. Some, three at a time. We hugged him all over and said please don't leave and we will remember you and come to see us sometime. He held us. He told us we were special. He said never ever forget it.
Goodbye was tough. Goodbyes are never good. Goodbyes are horrible. I am not going to break out in to "To Sir, With Love." But he had become a very important part of our lives. We thought we would see him round the school or somewhere. But we never saw him again. Which seemed to confirm Jordi's theory he was a mythical character. Like a satyr. That huge dick was the size of those creatures. Maybe so or not, I don't know. I kind of look forward to being with the girls tomorrow, and us getting to teach them what we've learned. Hmmm..And they can teach us what they've learned in their Sex Ed. Class.
I'm going to keep Jordi in close view every minute of it, just in case.
So before Jordi and I go, I'd like to break that fourth wall, and say deepest thanks to all the nice people who read my story, and who wrote me about it, who helped me along with it, gave me some fantastic ideas to use with their kind permission. This started out as one short story. It's turned into all these chapters. Thank you, Phil, for going into such detail about the framework of the entire school and what the curriculum might consist of, the goals and purpose and reasons for the structure at Harrad, which helped me make a short story longer and helped me make it somewhat realistic fictionally, for giving me such a huge spectrum to consider. I thank you for educating me, for having, some of you, gone totally out of your way to be good to a total stranger and his story--you have touched my heart and made me very happy. So:
LONG LIVE HARRAD HIGH!
School's out