This story was written by me, Trix, and Brad's Story should only be posted here on nifty.org. If you are younger than 18 years old, please leave now. This story is completely fiction, hope you like it.
This is the second chapter of Brad's story, and many more are on the way. Please read chapter 1 before reading this, for each chapter has significance to understanding the story.
I would love to hear any of your views or comments so please email me at: trixnight@gmail.com
Any responses whether it's good or bad will be most helpful, as it drives me to continue writing the following chapters of Brad's Story.
Enjoy!!
Brad's Story
Chapter 2
What the hell?
I hadn't realized the time, shit, and I needed to see Coach Shaw today about swimming wear before registration.
As I rushed out of the house, I almost collided with Matt, who'd come back from a morning jog.
I called out, "Late for school."
Quickly I ran to the bus which was just about to leave, I could hear Matt shouting, "Brad, but the clocks..."
Clocks? Did he want the time? Well I didn't have a watch on me. I figured I'd explain to him at the end of school why I was in a rush.
I got on the bus just before the door closed, and sat on the seat, out of breath.
As I entered school grounds I realized how quiet the school really was. How odd. What happened to everyone? Was their assembly today?
I went straight to the changing rooms, and as I entered, I searched for the clock along the walls for I'd still not got use to everything in the school.
It read, 7:30am. What? Suddenly it dawned upon me; why Matt had shouted frantically about clocks, and how empty the school was. It was because the clocks get turned back an hour, today. Crap! I rushed to school for absolutely nothing. Stupid me, stupid England, was their any point to turning the clocks back one hour anyway?
However, something else hit me, why were the school doors open if no one was in it? Someone or some people must be around. Yes that must be it. May be Coach Shaw came to school early as well, sport teachers are all early risers, right?
I walked to Coach Shaw's office which was down the hall way from the changing rooms. I opened the swinging doors which led to two doors, on the left was the Coach's office and on the right was the sports closet. As I reached my hand towards the Coach's door knob, I noticed that the door was open a crack.
I peeked in, hoping the Coach was in his office.
What I saw startled me. The room was dark, for the lights were off, however the sun was beginning to rise and shine through the blinds of the windows. As my eyes grew accustomed to the room, I could make out two figures standing up, they were hugging each other. Not just hugging each other, hugging each other, naked. Their bodies were massaging each other, sweat dribbled down each other's body. I could hear the sound of panting.
I heard one of them moan out aloud, "Oh Coach Shaw! You're the best. I love it when you fuck my face like that. Your so rough, and your cum is so tasty. Please fuck me; please I need it so much, your huge dick inside me, drives me crazy."
What the hell had I stumbled on? Did the figure really say Coach Shaw?
"Yeah, bitch. You need someone like me to keep you sane. Remember, you're my slut, I own you," shouted Coach Shaw, "I'll fuck your brains out. Get in the fuck position, now!"
The boy scrambled round, as though eager to be fucked, and lay his belly flat on the Coach's desk. I strained my eyes to get a view of his face, but all I could see was the back of his shaggy black hair.
The Coach had moved up behind him, his huge dick, at least 9 inches was pointing upright, "Yeah bitch. Are you ready for me? Are you?"
"I am, I really am, please Coach Shaw, penetrate me like you always do." pleaded the boy.
Always do? How long had this been going on for?
I heard a cry from the boy as Coach Shaw had managed to shove his entire dick into the boy's asshole in one swift movement.
I noticed that I was already stroking my cock, deep in my pants. My hands had taken a life of their own. I struggled against my will, as I resisted the urge to stroke myself.
I couldn't.
I was too horny, too aroused, too glued to the pair, that my hands just jerked my dick a little faster. The tightness of my pants caused me to go over the edge.
I was stroking my rock hard cock now, pumping it up and down. I never took my eyes off Coach Shaw and the unknown boy. It was as though I was watching live porn, but better, much better.
The boy's moans grew louder; his begging to be fucked harder filled the office, as Coach Shaw's speed became much more aggressive.
Coach Shaw cried out, "It's coming, you bitch. I'm going to dump my load into you. Here it comes... Ah, ah, ah, AHHHHHHHHH!"
The boy loved every minute of it. I couldn't see his face, but by his moans and groans told me he was enjoying the fuck.
Finally when it seemed as though the Coach had stopped ejaculating, the boy rose from the table, the dick still in his asshole. He leaned back, melting into the open arms of Coach Shaw's, breathing heavily.
"Here, my bitch. Let me help you with that boner you have there." said Coach Shaw, his tone was gentle, but underneath there was a sense of dominance.
I couldn't see the boy's dick, but I could see Coach Shaw's enormous hands jerking rapidly. With each jerk, the boy groaned, "Oh, oh, oh!"
Until finally, the boy screamed, "Oh, oh, oh, Coach... Ah, Yeahhhhhhh!"
I came in my pants. I didn't want to. I couldn't help it. I bit my tongue preventing myself from any moans. My sticky, still warm cum dribbled down my leg, I could feel my dick sticking to my boxers. I could smell my own cum, and cursed myself for releasing my load so soon.
I debated whether or not to go to the changing rooms to have a quick shower or registration first. But, outside the office, the school bell rang loudly. Had an hour passed so quickly? Damn! No shower for me.
I peered into the Coach's office hoping to gain one quick look at the pair before heading out.
But I saw no one. Where had they gone?
When suddenly it dawned upon, they were both advancing to the door. No, not naked, fully clothed. How the hell did they get changed so quickly?
Crap! I almost ran out the swinging doors in terror, but they would notice someone had gone through them. I did the next best thing; I practically jumped into the sports closet, and closed the door behind me quietly.
I couldn't see the pair, only hear them. Their voices were low, but I pressed my ear to the door, holding my breath, and listened.
I heard Coach Shaw's deep voice commanding, "I'll see you same time tomorrow, bright and early my bitch."
"Yes sir," replied the boy, as though nothing more than a sex toy to Coach Shaw's needs.
I could hear movement, and tugging, then Coach Shaw's voice, "Mmm... You better go my slut, before I give into temptation, again. But I'm so glad my bitch decided to repeat his last year of college again. For it sure is a lot more fun when you're around." He chuckled, and I heard a little smack, as though Coach Shaw had smacked the boy's but, playfully.
When I was sure both of them had left through the swinging doors, I opened the door, and ran off to registration, and then class.
I was relieved they hadn't caught me, happy that I'd got off, but annoyed I had cum stained clothing, and also strongly smelled of cum.
I hoped nobody would notice.
I sat in the art department, pretending to be in deep concentration of drawing the bowl of fruit in front of me. When, I was really relaying the sex event between Coach Shaw and the unknown boy.
My boxers felt sticky, my stomach empty, and the scent of cum still lingered in the air around me, and luckily nobody had noticed, yet.
I started to think, I mean... Who was this boy? Do I know him? Coach Shaw did say he was repeating a year. There can't be many people repeating a year, right? Surely I could ask someone, but who would I ask?
The only description of the boy was the shaggy black hair. But, lots of boys at this school had shaggy black hair. Plus I didn't know very many people here, I mean, I was still considered as the new kid. This was only my third day of school.
Later that day, Mrs Saunders, the art teacher, asked me, "Brad? Do you know where Jake is? He's very late for his first lesson of art class, and there is so much work to do."
"I'm not sure. He wasn't in yesterday. I think he might be ill."
A moment later, I smelled him, before I saw him, Jake's scent reached my nostrils and I inhaled his scent. It was odd, I'd only met him on the first day, and already I could identify his scent anywhere. Jake was beside me, smiling down at me, like the angel he was.
"I'm sorry, I was late, Mrs Saunders, I was in hospital," Jake said, handing the letter to her outstretched hands.
Hospital? Did Jake go to hospital? Is that why he wasn't in school yesterday? Panic surged through my body, my heart accelerated at the very thought of Jake in pain. I could almost feel the tears begin to swell up as I pictured Jake in the hospital bed in a coma or worse, dying. I blinked quickly, reassuring myself he was next to me, looking as healthy as can be.
"Well Jake, you've not missed much. We're starting on our coursework today, `still life'. Your first task is to draw the bowl of fruit before you, and remember draw what you see," said Mrs Saunders, kindly.
A few minutes later, chatter could be heard in the massive art room. There were eight people who took art as their AS Subject, two boys: me and Jake, and six girls, including Sam, and the rest I didn't know, although they looked rather pretty.
I looked at Jake beside me who was intently starting to draw the wooden bowl before him, "Jake?" I said, quietly, not wanting anyone to hear. Girls were awful gossips.
"Yes?" answered Jake, a worried look appeared on his face, "Are you okay, Brad? You look upset. Did anyone hurt you?"
"No, it's nothing like that. Everyone's been really nice to me. I... I was just worried about you," I said honestly, I wasn't much good at lying anyway; my ears would usually turn red if I did or so my mother use to say.
The thought of my mother was like a pang to the heart, but Jake's stare at me made me instantly forget. I always seemed to be happy when I was near him. Is this love? I'd never been a believer of love, but now... I wasn't sure. Staring at Jake face, he had a surprised expression on his face, which later turned into something more, which I couldn't describe. I felt a ripple of pleasure surge through me, as he gave me such an intense look. I blushed, dropping his gaze..
He leaned in, whispering, "Thank you for worrying about me, but I just went to have an x-ray. By the way, your blush is so adorable." His warm breath tickled my skin sent shivers down my spine.
I tried my best continuing to draw the fruits, but I couldn't. Jake was too distracting, his arm was so close to mine, his leg rubbed against mine, every now and again, when nobody was watching. I swear I could cum all over again with all these little touches.
"Brad?" Jake spoke, his voice curious.
I turned to him, and he seemed to sniff the air around me, as though a dog would, but more delicately.
"Is that cum, I smell?" asked Jake. There was a spark of amusement in his eyes and I could feel myself redden.
Crap! Nobody else noticed. Why him? I was too embarrassed to say anything; I kept my eyes down.
"Maybe we can continue where we left off at Nixon's, eh, Brad?" His tone sounded mischievous.
Jake's fingers brushed the back of my hand, causing me to drop my drawing pencil, "Just one touch, did that, eh?"
My heart accelerated, beating faster, and faster, "I... was just a little surprised. It's not everyday people brush their fingers along my hand, Jake." I turned to face him, holding his fixed gaze with an innocent expression.
Jake grinned at me, showing his ultra white teeth, "Come on." He said, "Its lunch time, and I'm starved. You can eat at my table, so I can have you all to myself... plus friends." He winked.
Lunch, it wasn't what I expected. People in college, which is my year, and the year above got their own cafeteria, which is better, I wouldn't have wanted to sit in a room full of little teenagers with goggling eyes fixed upon everything I did. I mean, I'm not that interesting. Even though we ate separately, they would still watch me walking down the corridors; usually they were all girls, but now and again I got some envious or even furious looks from boys.
I sat at Jake's table, which were full of people; girls and boys. I only managed to recognize some people; Marcus, Jason, Cassie, Ashley, and Myra. They all seemed really nice, Cassie kept openly flirting with me, touching my thighs as though a warm gesture, which was annoying at the same time, but what could I do. I tried to play it cool, I mean, I wouldn't want any of them to know I was gay. The last time that happened... well it didn't turn out very well.
A tall girl with long blond hair asked Jake, if she could speak to him alone, for a moment. I felt a surge of jealously, as I saw the girl bashing her beautifully long eye lashes. Calmly I started talking to people on my table, when Myra turned to Ashley, "Look, girl, he's already moved on."
Ashley threw a hurtful glance at the girl and Jake, "I can't believe him, it's only been a week since we split up." She turned and ran off, clearly upset, Myra followed her.
Say what? Jake dated Ashley, how far had they gone? Surely he wouldn't have gone far, Jake said he was gay, right? Maybe he was lying to me, just so I'd jerk him off.
Cassie sighed, "I wish I could have a piece of Jake, just like his brother," and sauntered off.
I must have had a very confused expression, for Jason quickly explained to me, "Jake's recently broke up with Ashley after only a month of being together. And Cassie over there, she's the school slut, she's been with almost everybody, except Jake, and it frustrates her that he doesn't want anything to do with her."
"Oh right," nodding as though both of these explanations cleared my confusion. What I really wanted to know was, "So, Jake has a brother?"
Jason replied, "Yep, an older brother."
"An older half brother," corrected Marcus, smiling at me, "They look nothing a like though. His brother has black hair, but Jake has brown hair."
I glanced at Jake who'd sat back down, opposite me, having finished his discussion with the blond girl.
Curiosity unleashed my speech, "So, what did that girl want?"
Jake, who was eating pasta, with extremely good managers swallowed his tuna, and answered, "Oh, she just wanted to ask me out, again. I told her, no though, mainly because I preferred freedom rather than trapped on a girl's leash."
Oh my god. He said he can't be bothered with girls anymore; does that go for guys too? I wonder what he'd say if I asked him out. Would he date me? Or did he just want some sex toy he could mess around with?
"Dude! You are out of your mind. What's wrong with you?" Marcus questioned. "You could have any girl you wanted here, just fuck them, and then dump them."
"Yeah, that's right, man." Jason said, cheerfully, punching Marcus in a boyish way.
What's wrong with these guys? They all seemed like players or something. I excused myself, saying I needed a toilet, when really I needed some fresh air.
As I walked down the staff room corridors for I didn't want to meet any of the first years. I accidentally ran into someone, I quickly apologised for not looking where I was going.
A husky voice replied, "No sweat man. I actually wanted to ask a favour from you. I was wondering if you could tell me where Mrs Saunders might be."
I looked up. A tall, skinny, pale man stood before me, wearing an old sweat shirt and jeans. He had greyish eyes, and shaggy black hair. He looked in his late twenties, and smiled at me, welcomingly as I stared at him. He had a shaved beard, which made him look incredibly sexy.
"She'll probably be in the staff room, over there," I pointed at the see-through door a few feet away from me.
"Cheers, man." The man said, walking off, "I'm sure, I'll catch you later," patting me on the shoulder.
Who was that stranger? Suddenly it hit me, he had shaggy black hair. But it couldn't be the boy from Coach Shaw's office, could it? I mean, this man looked as though he was in his late twenties, not repeating a year of college. Could this man be the same person?