High School Cum Boy
This story is an original work of gay fiction. None of the people or events are real. While some of the town names used may be real, any other geographic references (school, events) are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. This story depicts sexual situations between minor males. If reading this is illegal where you reside, or you are not at least 18 years of age, you are reading at your own risk. This work is the property of the author, Lee R Wilson, and shall not be reproduced and/or re-posted without his permission. Story ©2023 Lee R Wilson.
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This chapter's a little longer than usual, but when you get to the piece of 'short fiction' near the end, you can skip it if you want, it will have no later bearing on the story. Using the name Tom Seiver for one of Avery's friends trigger the idea. It's just something I wrote a long time ago and felt like sharing it. It's not sex related either. That's mostly the reason for the head's up now. Skip it if you don't care about baseball. I remember one or two other stories on nifty where the author included a piece of work supposedly my a character in the story. So I figured, why not?
From Chapter 1
"I'm Tom. When you get close, can I suck you? You've got a really nice dick."
"Um. Avery. Yeah. You want me to return the favor?"
"I'm not too small for you?"
"No. I don't have a lot of experience, so actually small is better."
"Awesome. Most guys won't suck me because I'm small. I'm ready to shoot."
He's not tremendously small, probably about 4 inches, but I guess that's less than average. I lean down and start sucking his dick. I can get all the way down to the base without gagging, so I'm giving his dick quite a workout. He puts his hands on my head, not really pushing.
"Oh God. I'm cumming. Ahhh. Ahhhh."
I swallow his cum. It's a little more sour than Connor's was but not awful. He shudders a little when he finishes and I lift off.
"Oh God that was good. For not being too experienced, you did a great job."
He goes back to jerking me off. About a minute later...
"I'm close Tom."
Tom leans down and puts his mouth over my dick. He instantly goes down to the root and I feel my dick hit the back of his throat. Oh my God is this hot. I start spewing cum into his mouth. It seems to disappear down his throat without him even swallowing. He sucks a little more as he's rising up.
"Hmmmm. You taste wonderful. Thank you."
"You were pretty good yourself. Thank you too."
He stands up, pulls up his pants and leaves. I'm still too amped to move. I've been here twice now and have gotten and given two blowjobs. The guy on the left taps me on the shoulder.
"You want another helping?"
I look down at his dick, it's a little bigger than mine, but not a lot. I look back up at him, nod and go down on him. He's not quite as ready to cum as Tom or Connor was, so I end up sucking his dick for about two or three minutes when I feel it start to throb and he shoots half a dozen times into my mouth. Once again, I swallow it all.
"Mmmm. Thanks kid. You did good."
He also stands up to leave. I figure it's about time I leave as well. I don't want every guy in here asking me to finish him off. Maybe after a few more trips.
CHAPTER 2 - Another Surprise Friend
As before, it's a few weeks before Avery has another chance to go to Cupid's. Three Fridays later
Finally another weekend evening off. So Friday after getting off work at 6, I grab a quick bite to eat and head to Cupid's. I've been looking forward to checking out the other room after the guy last time said next door getting naked was pretty much required. I park my car, walk in, pay my $5 and open the left-hand door.
I'm confronted with another room like the first except the chairs are scattered all around the place and there are huge TV screens on two walls playing gay porn movies. There's only a small handful of people in here, some of them completely naked. I look around and see about 20 lockers on another wall. Since it's not too crowded, most of them have a key with a rubber strap attached. I'm guessing the few without keys are in use.
I look back toward the people and see the naked ones all have a key on their wrist. Two pairs are fucking. I have to do a double-take. One of the naked guys, who is actually in the process of getting fucked in the ass, is my friend Tom from school. I'm shocked for two reasons. One, he's not even 17 yet, and two, he's getting fucked in the ass. I try to draw my attention away but I can't for more than a couple seconds at a time. The guy fucking him grunts and pulls out. A handful of people applaud, which causes Tom to look around. His gaze stops at me and the 'Oh shit I'm fucked' (and not the same way he just was) look crosses his face. I'm between him and the lockers, so he can't even make a semi-covert getaway. The guy that was fucking him drops the condom he was using in the trash can, dresses, and walks out. Tom slowly walks over to me.
"Um. Holy shit Avery. I never expected to see you here. Or anybody I knew for that matter. You can't tell anybody what you saw. Shit, shit shit. I mean I'll do anything to keep it quiet back in town."
"I can pretty much see that you'll do anything, but I'm not going to rat you out. I mean, I'd have to admit being here. And apparently no one is here unless they're gay. So I'd be ratting myself out too."
"Well, every so often straight couples come in. I guess watching gay porn or guys doing each other gets them hot and they like to be watched. So, um, you're gay too?"
"I guess you'll keep it to yourself, yes. How many times have you been here? (Quietly) And how did you get in?"
Tom whispers fake ID to me, as I suspected. We keep the rest of the conversation down at a low volume level. I can't resist the pun...
"And here all this time I thought Tom Seiver was a pitcher."
"Real funny jackass. Yeah, well I pitch too. Today I just happened to be Jerry Grote."
I look at him funny.
"He was Tom Seaver's catcher most of the time."
"Oh."
"And I've been here probably close to 10 times."
"You slut!!"
"Shut up. But maybe now that I know you're gay, I can use you in my bullpen. You know, we practice together?"
I had never really thought of doing anything with Tom. Just like with Connor, I had no idea he was gay.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Well, you apparently like dick, or at least getting sucked. How many times have you been here?"
"This is my third. I haven't been 18 as long as you apparently have. Ha ha."
"Um, are you staying? If not, I'll get dressed and we can go somewhere else and talk."
"Well, I was hoping to, um, get some action, but the mood has left me now. Go ahead and get dressed. I'll wait outside for you."
"K. Be right out. I'll give you the $5 back since you're only leaving because I'm here."
"Don't worry about it."
I turn around and leave. I'm waiting for Tom in the parking lot and I'm wondering what to do next. I mean, yeah, we'll go somewhere and talk, but after that. With Tom. Even though I never thought about him as gay, he is pretty hot. No as much as Connor, but definitely hot enough to be willing to do things with him. He's a little shorter than my 5'10", maybe 5'8" or half an inch taller. Straight dark brown hair and brown eyes. Not too muscular but not thin. Since I've already seen him naked, I know his dick is about the size of mine, maybe a bit smaller, with a trimmed tuft of hair above it. His chest is pretty well defined. Like I said, not exactly muscular, but far from scrawny. He walks out of the store, casual as can be.
"So, there's a burger place just around the corner. Know it?"
"Yeah, Freddy's or something like that?"
"Spot on Avery. I Ubered here, give me a lift?"
"Sure thing."
Even though I had a bite to eat before I left town, it wasn't much and I could stand to have some more food. I mean, what 18 year-old turns down an opportunity to eat, right? I pull into Freddy's and we get out of the car. Go up to the counter and order some food. Having eaten already I order light, single burger, fries, shake.
"Let me take care of it. I feel bad kind of making you leave as soon as you got there."
"Sure. You know me; free food is good food."
It's not crowded so we sit at a table in a corner away from everybody else.
"So, how long have you known you're gay Avery? Oh shit, Gavery just popped into my head and I'm never going to get rid of it now."
"Great. Just don't use that back home. Um, for sure a couple years now, maybe questioning my sexuality a couple years before that. So I at least suspected maybe since I was about 14. Never had an opportunity to, um, confirm it until I went to Cupid's. You?"
"If I slip, you can call me Tom Sleazier, ha ha. As long as I can remember. I think even when I first saw a friend naked around 8, I was hooked on boys."
"And you've been there about ten times. Wow."
"I like variety. I get a little bit with the guys back home, but I need more than 3 other guys."
"Wait. You know 3 gay guys from town? Our school?"
"Well, I'm not hitting on junior high or elementary school kids, so, yeah."
Wow. 3 plus Connor, Tom and me? That's like 5% of the junior and senior classes. I suspected there were a couple, but that's a little more than I figured.
"Wow. I can't believe there are that many gay kids in our school. Just 11th and 12th, or?"
"Actually one each from 10 through 12."
"I'm not going to ask who, at least not yet. Still wrapping my head around you being gay."
"Well, if you're cool with it, I can introduce you. Or maybe you can join the drama club for the spring play. We're all in there."
"I never thought about acting before, but even though I'm far from the best player, I think I have to stick with baseball. There aren't too many extra players. And pitching is always short."
"Yeah, I get it. The team folds, and there goes Connor's chance at a baseball career. Anyway. I can invite you and the guys over my house one day. You probably at least know who a couple of them are, no one in our direct circle of friends. But it's a small school."
"Maybe. And you are all, um, in the closet as far as town goes?"
"Yeah, we know. Hopefully nobody suspects, but none of us have ever gotten any heat. I'm guessing you know as well as I do how it would go over if it got out."
"I think the phrase 'like a lead balloon' would apply. But OK. Let me know when you can get everybody together. I'm working 2-10 tomorrow, 2-6 on Sunday, off Monday and Wednesday, and 6-10 Tuesday and Thursday. That should give you enough windows."
"Can you text it to me?"
"Sure. OK, well, let's head back to town. I can drop you off at home, or somewhere else if you prefer?"
"Home's good."
I drop Tom off and consider going back to Cupid's, but then I figure, if I can get some on the sly around here, maybe I won't need to go back there. Seeing guys fucking right out in the open was a little scary, truth be told. Not sure I'd want a public audience for that. Shit, I'm not even sure I want to do that. Yet. I text Tom my schedule when I get home, jerk off and go watch some TV for a while. My little brother Andre is already there.
"What ya watchin' kid?"
He looks at me like I'm stupid.
"Um, I think it's called baseball?"
"Duh. Who's playing?"
"Royals and A's"
"Geez, why aren't you a Cards fan like everybody else around here. The Royals suck."
"I'm not a Cards fan BECAUSE everybody else around here is. When have I ever gone along with the crowd?"
"I think it was a Tuesday about three years ago."
"Funny. Staying to watch?"
"Yeah. Bad baseball is better than pretty much everything else on TV these days."
Andre's a nice kid, but he's a little off-center sometimes. He'll be 15 in about a week, freshman at the high school. Like me, he's probably about average height for his age, 5'7" or so. Also like me, not too much meat on his bones, but like Tom, not skinny either. Light brown hair, brown eyes. People say we look a lot alike. Poor kid. Ha ha. Anyway I decide to grab a soda first.
"Geeting a pop, want anything?"
He holds up his can of root beer, shaking it so I can see it's almost empty. I come back with a Coke for me and another Mug for him and park it in the other recliner. The game's in the 6th inning already, the Royals are losing by a few, as usual, so it'll probably end after 9 innings. Well, maybe his team will get a high draft pick. Next commercial, he decides he wants to talk.
"So where'd ya go?"
"Went out for a burger with Tom, just hung out for a bit."
Although, more accurately I was with Jerry. I chuckle to myself.
"What's funny?"
"Oh, just something I remember Tom saying. A not so nice nickname someone tried to give him."
"What was it?"
"Not saying. Like I said, not so nice."
"Yeah. I guess the ones we got based on our initials could be worse Query."
"Real funny Noah."
Andre's middle name is Rowan. Yeah, our parents tried to get cute, so his initials are ARK, hence, Noah. I'm Avery Sebastien, ASK, hence Query. Dad's parents apparently didn't care too much about initials. He's Donald Ivan. Mom got lucky when she married dad, Isabelle Jennifer. Anyway, back to Andre's conversation.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You mean something else, right?"
"Huh?"
"Can I ask you something is already asking me something."
"Dickhead. OK, can I ask your advice about something?"
"Sure."
"Um. How do you know if you like somebody enough to ask them out?"
"Hypothetically, or is there a certain member of the opposite sex you're talking about?"
"Specifically."
"Well, you really only need to like them a little to ask them out. If you think you'd get along with them, they'd be fun, and maybe they'd be willing to go out with you. That's enough to start. If after a while you're not liking them more and don't see the relationship going any further, you can break up and try again."
"Is that what happened with you and Stephanie?"
"Yeah. Pretty much. Fortunately she pretty much felt we weren't 'long term compatible' when I was ready to end it too, so no broken hearts."
"OK. Um, how did you ask her the first time?"
"Nothing special. We were at a football game with a bunch of others. When it was over I just asked if she wanted to go for pizza or something. She wasn't seeing anybody at the time so she said yes."
Three months later she WAS seeing someone else. That's why we broke up after three and a half months.
"OK. Thanks."
He turned his attention back to the game and that was that. When the game was over, I went to take a shower and get ready for bed and hung out in my room reading.
Tom texted me on Saturday.
"I know you've got your first baseball practice Monday, but how about after practice you come over and we can have that meeting we talked about yesterday?"
"Yeah. That works."
It's funny. Tom can hop a ride 10 times to Cupid's but he's afraid to leave too detailed a message on his phone. As far as I know, his parents have never checked his messages. But then, I guess the topic is a little more sensitive than 'I'm going out to xyz' said directly to one or both of them.
Monday
I'm so excited today. And not just because I'll be meeting a few other gay boys from town after practice, but I got an A+ on a piece of short fiction I had to write for as assignment in English last week. Mr. Bernard thinks it may be good enough to submit to a high school writing contest he knows about. The assignment was to write a short piece, about a thousand words, but no more than 1200, describing a potential moment in your future, attainable or not. It's complete fantasy, but I pitch for the school baseball team. I'm nowhere near as good as the character in my 'story.'
------------------------------------ The First Pitch (©2023 Lee R Wilson) You look down toward home plate, watching the catcher flash signs. You've been in this situation before; brought into the game early, team way behind, runners on base. But this is the first time you're doing it in the major leagues. Are you nervous? Nervous would be an enormous understatement. What was that sign? Concentrate. Shake that one off since you missed it anyway. OK, sure, I'll throw that. You wind up, and the ball is loose.
It took you years to get here. Little league. Middle school. High school. College. You were never the best at any level, but you were always good enough to play. Never picked last on the playground. Never first either. You spent a few years in the minor leagues, working your way up through the levels. It seems like you were always the second best. You played well enough. Not quite good enough to be a starter, so you were relegated to the bullpen when you hit AAA. That's OK, you were getting paid to do what you loved and now you've made it to the big time. You sat and watched the last eight games since they called you up. Should you feel guilty because you got your chance when their middle reliever tore his rotator cuff? No. It's not like you were even here when it happened. So it was an unfortunate break for him. You deserved a chance. You worked hard to get here and now that you've made it, you want to do whatever it takes to stay.
The manager seems to like you. You work hard in practice. You pay attention to what he says and follow instructions. You want to make the most of this opportunity so you're going to toe the line. The pitching coach has been keeping you upbeat. It's a tough job being the long reliever. You only get into the game because the starter either got blown off the mound or hurt. But hey, both of those cases fall under the 'it's not my fault' heading.
Your family has been behind you all the way up through the ranks. Of course they hate to see you struggle, but what job doesn't have its struggles? There have been plenty of positive moments. Getting that scholarship in college was impressive. It was exciting signing your first professional contract. Getting promoted from the rookie league to A was your first major step as a professional ballplayer. Now, three promotions later, you're in the major leagues. You just walked onto the pitcher's mound in one of the most storied sports venues there is; Yankee Stadium. Sure, you're not playing for the Yankees. You're the enemy here, but the fans are happy to see you. Their team is up by 6 runs. You're a career minor leaguer who has sat on his team's bench for the last week and a half. There are runners on the corners and only one out. They're expecting to see at least a few more Yankees cross the plate.
But it's your job to prevent that from happening. You have to do whatever it takes to keep that player from reaching base. Getting him to hit into a double play would be the best possible outcome. A line drive or short pop fly out would be good. You've never been a big strikeout pitcher. Sure you get your share, probably about average. But you're no Nolan Ryan or Tom Seaver. You'll get one or two strikeouts in your typical three or four inning outing. Striking out the first player you face would be more than you could ever ask for. Truthfully, all you're asking for is to get the ball close enough to the plate that the catcher will do just that, catch it. You don't want to put it right in the middle of the plate. That could turn the game into a nine run deficit in a heartbeat and turn you into a trivia question. How many pitchers have only ever thrown one pitch in the major leagues? Has it ever happened? You surely don't want to be the first. Yes, the pitch has to miss the plate by a little bit. Better to throw a ball than a home run pitch.
Should you have checked the runner at first? Did you? You don't remember any more. Is he already on his way to second base? That might not be a good move strategically for the home team, but if you didn't even look over there, he may have already taken off. Oh well, can't change that now. We just have to wait to see where the pitch goes. Is it going to cross the plate somewhere the batter can reach and hit it? Is he even a first pitch hitter? There's never enough time to do any last minute homework on which player you might be facing. You try to remember the scouting reports while you're warming up in the bullpen. But you're warming up and another player comes to bat. You have to focus on your warm-up pitches, but still have to pay attention to the Public Address announcer stating who is coming up to bat. You could get the call any moment. You don't, so you have to re-focus on your warm-ups. A couple pitches later the crowd cheers. You know another run has scored and you're about to get the call. Who's up next? What do you remember about him?
Now you're taking that ride around the warning track to come into the game. The crowd is still cheering the last run scored. The bullpen buggy stops and you get out. You walk to the mound and throw a few more warm-up pitches. The batter steps back into the batter's box and stares you down. He's been in hundreds of major league games. You're in your first. Does he have the advantage? You hope not, but there's no way of knowing now.
You look down toward home plate, watching the catcher flash signs. You wind up, and the ball is loose. You wait for the crack of the bat. It doesn't come.
Next Up - "The Meeting"
Author's Note
I hope the addition of a piece written in my past didn't bore anybody too much. But, I at least warned you it was coming.
Feel free to drop me a line if you haven't already. I appreciate the comments, good or bad.
If you liked this, check out my other stories on nifty: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/look-but-dont-look/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/my-roommate-teaches-me/
LRW