The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Okay, I think this about covers my ass!
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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GeTTiNG ReaDY FoR CoLLeGe 09 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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He was the laughing stock of the morning biology class, Ferran showing up a minute after the tardy bell, becoming a target of the teacher's ridicule. As with Tom Fuller instigating the riotous humor, Ferran instantly forgave the dreamy Mr. Gallo, along with Fuller and took his seat. He was fortunate for keeping a tidy schedule, notoriety among the teacher's circle which deemed `Ferran Gennaro' a role model for other students, almost a hundred percent attendance, never late to class, now - almost never, and an honor's student.
"I'll overlook it this time Mr. Gennaro."
"Thanks Mr. Gallo," Ferran replied.
From the back of the room he hears a cutesy voice mimic, "Thanks Mr. Gallo" and then the sound of a fart!
Gallo loved to target students and it probably was the most vicious reason why most of the male population of the class wanted to punch his lights out, the girls rendition would be using their long fingernails to do some eye gouging!
"Mr. Fuller, will you give us a `full' description of the reproductive system, as outlined in last night's homework?" Gallo states.
It made Ferran smile. But then again it sent his mind wandering, thinking about his own reproductive system. He wondered how different it would be, instead of Rico's mouth, how comparative it would be, `inpregnating' a guy's ass?
"Mr. Gennaro, would you do us the honors, since Mr. Fuller's total incompetence again deprives us of this knowledge?"
At first Tom Fuller wanted to punch Mr. Gallo's lights out, but as Gennaro began spitting out the facts, Tom wanted to more than make some babe pregnant!
"Very good Mr. Gennaro. At least someone is interested in graduation!"
Then graduation began to loom in Tom's mind. The football jock then began getting an uneasy feeling. Just what if he didn't pass this last semester of high school? Oh man', he panicked. Not only was his college football scholarship at stake, but what about his reputation? Fuck!' he thought. It wasn't in his mind right now thoughts from years past, of looking like a flunkie in front of his friends. However it would make him look bad not being at graduation and shit!' Going to summer school to make up a bio class when he knew he had clinched a summer job in construction? Tom had a lot to lose and by far he wasn't attributing it to his own lack of being as quick-witted as Gennaro'. As he held his pencil, suspended between his hands, thumbs applied, making it a concave shape, ready to break under stress at any given moment, it imitated Tom's emotionally disturbed state, his mind so festered over with thoughts of having
`already' flunked out. When the bell rang Tom was out of there and with haste. He even sideswiped Gallo's last words, making sure everyone copied the homework assignment from the board.
So it seemed Gallo was getting his digs in, "Mr. Fuller?"
"I've got it, Gallo!" Tom roughly answered. Unfortunately the door became bottled up and he stood eight students from making his getaway.
"Mr. Fuller, I'll see you at my desk?"
"But I've got gym! I gotta work on our plays for the game?" Tom protested.
But Gallo wasn't giving him an inch, let alone a centimeter. "Now, Mr. Fuller?" he started out, his arm reaching behind him to close the door to his classroom, "First I would like to address the insuboordination issue?"
"The fu--... the what?" Tom skipped over the profanities.
"We are nearing the end of the third quarter of the school year," he sits at his desk, opening his student registry, "and you have yet to refer to me as Mr. Gallo?"
Sitting on the closest desk near the front of the room, Tom couldn't escape Gallo's stare. "Uh yeah, well..."
"Do you refer to your other teachers in this manner?"
As Tom sat there, the same thought came over him which occurred almost every day of the past school year, `Why doesn't the fuckin' old man retire and get it over with!' "Um, maybe one or two of them, but they aren't having a fu- - a cow over it."
Over the past five years many of the faculty have retired, younger teachers filling the classrooms. However, by no means had he thought of himself as over the hill' or ready to take up residence on a front porch, in a rocking chair. He was more than fifteen years away from retirement and had no intentions of doing what some did, retire and then work some odd job which he would most likely detest. Moving on, he put his finger on the page and scrolled alphabetically down a column till he came to Fuller'. He followed the line across, reporting, "C - D - C+ - C - C - D- - C+ - F?" he looks up.
Tom sticks a finger at the collar of his high school football tee shirt, venting.
He continued after visually humiliating Tom, "C+ - C+ - B-?"
"See? I'm improving!"
Shot down, "D - D - C," I hardly view these grades as exerting yourself, Tom?"
It was like hearing bells ring out around him, Tom hearing him referred to as `Tom'? Gallo didn't call anybody by their first name, ever!
"What do you have to say for yourself Tom?"
There it was again! Tom shook his head as if a bee were flying around his head.
"Something wrong Tom?"
Something was very wrong! "Yeah. You called me `Tom'."
"Of course. When I'm talking one-on-one with a student and I'm being sincere, I'll drop the formalities. When I'm conducting a class I expect my students to treat me as I treat them. It's the `golden rule' you know?"
Unlike what coach has often said to the football team, Do it to them before they do it to you!' But more interested in whether he was going to be branded pass' or `fail', Tom asks, "I'm not going to flunk out am I? At the university I'm waiting on, I'm up for a football scholarship. If I don't pass every class they won't accept me. I gotta pass this class," and since he was doing some sweet-talkin', "Mr. Gallo."
"You're not the first senior athelete in this predicament, Tom."
"The others," he felt Mr. Gallo out, "they pass or have to go to summer school?"
Getting up out of his chair, Gallo replies, "Whether they passed or failed is not the issue. What is important is how hard they work to achieve."
Tom knew the routine. It happened in a couple of his classes as he passed through high school, "So did they like come after school for extra help?"
"I suppose you can that," the forty-eight year old teacher replied.
"Well that shoots that down. I've got football practice after school."
"Yes Tom and without your final passing grade in biology, all that football practice would be a total waste, wouldn't you agree?"
He didn't have to be smart in the head to comprehend and so replies, "Yeah, I suppose."
"Now I understand and acknowledge your responsibility to your sport, so I'm willing to bend a little here Tom."
Things were looking up! Gallo wasn't turning out to be the bad guy after all. He was giving in, so Tom thought maybe he should. "I'll do anything, Mr. Gallo."
"I don't like to see students fail. This is why I'm willing to give you some private tutoring, after football practice."
"After?" Tom says without having to think on it. "But football practice isn't over till like six o'clock, then there's putting equipment away, showering... I won't be out of there till around eight."
"Or you can skip the shower and shower at my place," Gallo said with complete confidence in himself.
"Your place? You mean at your house?"
"Exactly, Tom. I like to see people succeed and as I see it, the only way possible for you to overcome your D' average, let alone have the need to attend summer school, is to keep yourself from failing Tom." Gallo happened to like male high school seniors and he did his homework' at the beginnng of the school year, knowing when each one of them were turning eighteen. For the past twenty-something years he's helped many college-bound seniors achieve a good high school average in biology. Unknown to Tom, Mr. Gallo has had his eye on him for the whole school year. He was waiting for two things. One, Tom turning eighteen and secondly, for him to accumulate enough failing or mediocre grades in order to approach him with his `remedial' plan.
It didn't take much time to weigh the facts. "Are you going to like charge me?"
"Not a dime," though Gallo knew he would be getting paid, via the barter system.
"I guess I shouldn't pass up such an offer then. Um, like what time would I be leaving your house?"
"It's entirely up to you Tom. Depends on your capabilities."
Tom thought it rational. "And like when would we need to start?"
"I think right away, if you plan on getting a grip on this Tom."
Bobbing his head in the affirmative, he says, "I suppose it's possible, but Friday nights usually I get together with the guys for a beer and..."
"We're almost into the last quarter of the school yearTom, only a few short months away from graduation. Tom, what would you say is the most important thing for you in your life now?"
Putting the key words together, last quarter', graduation' and `most important', everything came to conclude around their conversation. "Getting ready for college, I suppose."
Gallo put the screws to him, "Which, without my help I doubt you will be spared from attending summer session?"
"I can't. I've got to like work. And oh man... It'd be like totally uncool if I didn't graduate with my buds."
Gallo knew he had it in the bag. "So after practice you will come over to my house. I'll see you there no later than nine o'clock, right Tom?"
"Yeah."
"And you wouldn't tell anyone."
"Why not?"
"Think about it Tom, if others heard about you being tutored for nothing, then they would expect it also."
"Oh right. I get what you mean Gallo.. I mean Mr. Gallo."
"And I expect better manners in the classroom, Tom?"
"Of course. Sure."
"You better get on to your next class. Need a pass?"
"Uh yeah. Mr Peterson's English class."
Gallo smiled, saying, "You tell Mr. Peterson you had a conference with me and I'll square it with him later."
"And he'll be okay with it?"
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"I Came real close to getting detention with Mr. Gallo," Ferran told Rico at lunch.
"He likes you because you're so damn intelligent!"
"Maybe."
"Would you believe I studied for the last test and he gave me a `C'?"
"You should be thankful, Rico. Wasn't your last score a `D'?"
"Um, yeah."
Being this their first week of being friends in high school, Ferran says, "If you want to I could try tutoring you."
"That would be awesome! Then we can fool around afterwards!"
"No, Rico. It's not why I'm offering!"
"It's okay if you didn't think of it, Ferran."
"Look Rico. I liked what we did, but I don't want to like... live for sex?"
Saying it softly, Rico leans towards Ferran and remarks, "You really didn't like my blowjob?"
"Will you shut up about that?"
"Well did you?"
"Yes. I told you I liked it Rico."
"Oh," Rico thought, getting it, but not getting the rejection part. "I guess you don't want to be friends then."
"Of course I want to be friends. Didn't I just offer to help you with your biology? I didn't ask to be paid did I?"
"No."
"Then we're still friends, okay?"
Rico's answer was, "This pizza is pathetic!" He threw it down on his plate.
"I know. I was thinking the same thing." Tacked on, Ferran adds, "And I still want to be your friend. Maybe we can do a little something, after we study. Okay?"
"Cool!" Rico made transition, getting perky with the attitude adjustment.
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Up in Tony's room, Achilles lingered over his shoulder as the two viewed possibilities towards making the spring break `happen'.
"No vacancies, no vacancies, no vacancies," Tony called out as his mouse x-ed out of each tab of his browser.
Watching over Tony's shoulder, Achilles only paid half attention to Tony's focus. He had a bird's eye view if he tilted his chin downwards, his eyes zooming right down the front of Tony's tee shirt, though the picture of his hairy chest was minimal.
He was totally surprised when Tony suddenly looks up at him and remarks, "Um, could you like back off a little Takos. Your breath is like sweating me up."
Of course, not wanting to be discovered, not just yet, Achilles popped up, standing up straight, his six foot-one inch posture erect and now towering over Tony, seated. "How is this?"
Being Achilles had long legs, his crotch came to about the height of the back of the chair. He made Achilles smile, Tony dropping his eyes, zipping right down Achilles' bod, till he hit his zipper, then immediately keyed his attention towards the monitor. "Yeah. That's good."
Achilles wondered if Tony picked up on the bulge in his pants, himself aware on account of his checking Tony out. All the guys they hung out with have seen each other, either shirtless or in the buff, in the lockerroom or at pool side, but seeing Tony dry' and up close', sent a different reaction than the norm. "Anything?" Achilles asked, again bending down, but keeping his exhaling nose away, in a direction where Tony would not again caution him.
"Not a single thing. I'm like up shit's creek!" Tony exclaimed, moving his chair back to get up.
"Whoooooa!" Achilles called out, falling backwards, his butt trampolining on the bed.
"Oh sorry! You okay Takos?"
Of course he was okay. Achilles landed on a soft and cushy surface. And he wasn't immune to Tony losing eye contact for a few seconds, darting down to where his hoodie rode up on his bod, most likely showing off his hairy bellyhole and shaggy treasure trail . "I'm fine," he smiles, placing his hands behind his head, his feet flush against the carpeting, which hiked his hoodie up even further, same time his pants stretched lower, sagging so much the rim of his briefs showed he was wearing gray A&F's.
After standing there momentarily, like he was deep thought over something, Tony digresses, "Uh well... glad you're alright man. Um, what do you think we should do?" And then realizing the implication himself, "I mean about finding a place for spring break..."
Achilles smiled. Being Tony was already susceptible to his flirting, he took a further step. Pulling up his hoodie to under his chin, he revealed his hairy chest and stomach. "Do you think I'm starting to get `fat'?"
"Um," Tony replies, suddenly lost for words as he vents the neck of his tee shirt. Then trying to recover, "No. I mean I think you look fine Takos."
A thick mat of black hair covered Achille's chest, even more pronounced by his white skin. He figured ten days in Aruba would help to fill in the spaces with a bronze tan. Now it was questionable. But for now he showed off the curvature of his tight pecs and the tautness of his abs gaving way to the structure of his rib cage, seemingly also the border for the hair which ran east to west.
He was tired of playing games and wanted the games to end, whether in his favor or not. Call it an advantage, Tony down to his last best friend who was willing to stick it out, he planned on using this as a tactic as he bluntly puts it, "Tony, why don't you give me a massage?"
"What was that Takos?" Tony replies, blinking his eyes and showing a sign of question on his face. "Want to run that by me again?"
He sat up. This time Achilles precedes his idea with, "You trust me, don't you?"
"I don't know. Is there reason for me `not' to?" Tony was showing some doubt.
"Remember the first time you presented the cum-shooting contest to us guys?"
Tony lets down his guard and starts giggling, "Yeah. You guys were like whacked outta your gourds. I'll never forget the expression on their faces." He laughed some more.
"Who was the first guy who agreed to doing it?"
"You were Takos. So?"
"The point I'm trying to make here Tony, is I took a step in trusting you and now you're putting it the farthest from your mind of trusting me?"
"Wait. Are you trying out some of those fancy tactics they teach you in psychology class?"
Achilles says softly, "Tone..." Then in a more precise manner, "I might be studying to become a shrink, but I don't `practice' on people I care about."
Simply put, how could Tony not trust. "Okay. I guess I trust you Takos."
"You guess?"
"I trust you Takos, okay?" he adds a tone of affirmation. Next, Tony was standing there, mumbling, "Uh.. um... uh... um.. uh what are you doing there Takos?"
Taking Tony's hands in his, Achilles led them to his bod, placing palms towards him, watching his hands come closer to his hairy pecs.
"Hey, I'm not so sure about this, Takos," Tony said in protest, yet didn't back away or offer any resistance.
Looking down, Achilles waits for the moment of touch. In anticipation, and whether Tony grasped his joy, his crotch was reacting like a power plant on overload.
"Takos?" Tony resisted in words only.
He smiled when Tony's hands made contact. "Want to move your fingers around Tone? Give me a nice pec massage?"
"Um. No!" Tony abruptly says, pulling his hands away.
With the power of suggestion and knowing Tony to be gullible at times, Achilles says in a gauche tone, "Sure. I trusted you, but are you willing to trust me Tone?"
"Sure I trust you Takos, but this is like so `gay'!"
Achilles hits him back with, "So is jerking each other off, Tony, but did you hear me objecting to it?"
"It felt good," Tony fights back.
"So does having your hands on my pecs," Achilles states. He then instills further debate, "I bet it would feel good to you if you gave it a try, Tone."
Falling prey to Achilles being the last person in the world, other than his bro, willing to talk with him, Tony slightly gives in, "Could maybe."
"So is this a `yes'?"
"To what?" Tony asks, a little sketchy on what Achilles is driving towards.
Standing up, their height almost matched, Tony being about three inches shorter.
His hoodie dropping down around his waist, the material leaving a gap at the front. "C'mon. Take your shirt off Tone."
"My shirt off?"
Stopping, a wide band of bod hair showing from neck to navel, Achille's says, "Unless you're going to woos-out on me Tone?"
He smiled when Tony confesses, "I'm `not' woosing-out on you Takos!" With his arms crossed in front of him, Tony grabs the tails of the front of his tee shirt and whisks it off over his head. "There. Satisfied?"
Cutting the crap, Achilles gets right to it, but with a different twist. Lifting his arms, elbows bent, his hands target Tony's pecs. "Now you tell me this doesn't feel good, Tone!"
Right away, as Achilles' thumbs press into Tony's nips, his hands fan out over Tony's hairy pecs in a slight massaging motion. "Oh fuck Takos!"
Laughing at Tony's reaction, Achilles says, "And you doubted me!" Thinking he was `owning' Tony, after a few nip massages, moans of pleasure drawn out of his friend's whole being, he drops his left hand to below the belt. He smiles when he doesn't get an adverse reaction! "How does that feel Tone?"
"Real good man," Tony replies, gay' being the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. And no wonder, as he groans at the feeling of his electric nips' causing his cock to pulse, aided by Achilles' hand-job.
"Should I stop?" he teases Tony.
"Um....no! I mean... if you're getting tired of doing it?"
Achilles drops his hands, thinking it's time for plan B.
"Ooooh," Tony whimpers. "That's it?"
"I did it to you, now you do it to me!" Without reluctance, Achilles strips his hoodie off over his shoulders. Instead of falling across the bed, his head hits the pillow.
"In bed?"
"Sure. Why not Tone. No difference than standing."
Standing there shirtless, hands on his torso, Tony pondered over the situation. First thought to come to return was how gay' this seemed. Next thought was what if' the guys learned about him doing something so `gay'? "I don't know Takos. If the guys ever find out they'll never speak to me again."
"Oh really, Tone. They aren't speaking to you now. What's the difference?" Achilles utilizes some strategy.
He couldn't argue, replying, "You got a point there Takos."
More suggestive, the tip of Achilles' right foot nudges his left sneaker, causing it to come off. He kicks it off the edge of the bed and hastily does the same with the other. "So? You game?"
"I don't know," Tony says, but with the power of suggestion setting in, one foot dethrones his heel from his sneaker, other foot doing likewise.
"C'mon, Tone. Even if the guys someday start talking to you, they'll never know what we do behind closed doors."
"I suppose."
"And even when we graduate and move on," he changes his tone to a sweeter form, "I respect you enough Tone to keep anything we do a secret. I think you feel the same, don't you?"
Of course Tony would never volunteer information which would drag his own name through the mud, so replies, "Uh, sure. You can like trust me. No problem." Recurring thoughts, Tony says, "But I'm not doing anything like that," he almost slipped and said `faggot', but amended his statement, "like that straight guy on the camping trip."
"Tone, I thought you trusted me. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."
"Good. I don't want to do this!" Tony picks up his shirt.
"Fine!" Achilles says, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "If you want to labeled a bad sport, then fine. No sweat off my back!"
It was meant to make Tony feel bad and Achilles' response immediately began gnawing away at Tony's conscience. "Um, wait a minute there Takos," he dropped his shirt onto the back of the chair, from where he took it.
"What?" Achilles acts with innocence.
Having one last doubt, Tony asks, "Are you sure you're not `gay'?"
About to contradict himself, it was the only way. Achilles figured out the best way to address the situation, to go at it from a more clinical perspective. "Are you sure you're not bisexual, Tone?"
His draw dropped open as he gazed upon Achilles stretched out on the bed. "How could you...."
"Think about it Tone. You like the babes," and he spoke more in Tony's lingo, " but you also like what a gay guy likes."
"Now you're wa-a-a-a-a-ay off base here Takos!" Tony said, picking up his shirt, an attempt at matching up his hands with the sleeves.
Someday, after graduation, when he hangs up his shingle, Achilles is going to have to assume a more conservative manner of addressing his patients, but with emotions building towards Tony's stupidity, he couldn't contain himself any longer. He was bigger and probably wired by an adrenaline rush, so proved stronger as he grabbed at the shirt Tony had stretched across his pecs.
Hands bound by the shirt, resembling cuffs, Tony lost balance, careening towards the bed. "What the fuck you doing Tak?" he shouted out as his bod struck up against Achilles.
He was into it and there was no turning back. "I'm gonna prove it for you..." Achilles caught his breath as he rolled Tony over on the bed, "once and for all Tone!"
"Get offa me you fuckin' pervert!" Tony called out as Achilles body-blocked him, pinning him to the bed.
Even though stronger at first, Tony's defense system kicked in and as he flipped Achilles over, the both of them went tumbling over the edge of the bed.
"Get offa me!" Tony yelled out.
To Achille's advantage, Tony wound up as man-on-bottom, his knees straddling Tony's torso, his arms glued to his sides. "Now you're gonna listen!"
Tony tried thrashing back and forth, screaming, "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you when I get loose!"
"Kill me Tone? Kill the only guy who will talk to you right now? Kill the guy who accepted your idea of the cum-shooting contest? The guy responsible for getting the other guys to join in without it looking like some `perverted gay guys'?" Oh he was livid and shelled it out to Tony in black and white. "You know I've done a lot for you over the last two years and trusted you at doing some things I would never do on my own. I thought we had a friendship here, but... I guess I was wrong!"
Tony couldn't believe it! Achilles sprung up off of him and the floor. He looked up at him like he was a million miles away.
"Do you want a hand or not?" Achilles asks, extending a helping hand.
Totally lost for words, opposite of minutes ago, Tony lay there on the floor, breathing heavy, his emotions still a bit highstrung.
"Okay. You're choice Tone. I'm not going to make you take it," Achilles states, turning his back and grabbing up his hoodie from the foot of the bed. He feeds an arm into it, then the other. He picks up his sneakers.
Tony, still hidden behind the bed, except for his legs stretched out beyond it, still is up for catching some air.
Silent, Achilles takes up the slack, zipping up his hoodie. He heads for the door.
Still Tony makes no moves, nor speaks. Only breathes.
Opening the door, Achilles starts to leave. Uttering with a burst of freedom he announces on his way out, "Oh by the way Tone, I `am' gay and if you don't like it, you don't have to be my friend!" He slammed the door behind himself.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....