2.“So that boy’s in your class?” my mom asked at dinner.
“I’m not sure if he’s young enough to be called a boy.” I replied, stirring my salad.
“It’ll be nice if you have someone that you can talk to. Classes are always so much..”
“Mom, could you please stop talking about it?!”
“Of course, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t butt into your affairs.” Restrained myself from screaming DUH, but I couldn’t blame her. It was just that every mention of him or something related to him brought back memories of his flesh...and I hadn’t even seen that much of it! I mean, seen that much of it for a long period of time. I couldn’t even think straight. Visions of him licking his finger and staring at me filled my vision and expanded it infinitely. Cock stirred again. I was at dinner, I had to stop this...
I ended up in my room jacking off desperately, moaning his name and burying my face in the sheets.
Class...class...class...all I could think of for the entire morning. Why did it have to be a late afternoon thing? It only made me more anxious to either get there and get it over with or draw it out so that I would never have to see him.“You’re awfully antsy today.” my mom remarked, watching me jiggle helplessly in the passenger seat.
“I’m just really anxious to get to class. I love learning.” I said, hoping she’d buy it. She did. I guess more because I was finally expressing an interest in something more than staying locked in my room all day and doing god knows what. Privately, I thought that she knew exactly what I was doing and said nothing just because she had this idealistic view of what childhood was like and obviously didn’t remember her own little forays into sexuality.
“Remember, you’ve got work after this!” she called as I jumped out of the car and started to run to the building.
“I know Mom!” I yelled back. Shit, two and a half hours of shelving at the library right after maybe talking to him... At least I wasn’t closely supervised so maybe I could go to the bathroom often enough to relieve the pressure. So glad that I shelved the books on the third floor.
Jay was standing in the hallway, fully clothed. He looked at me and nodded. “Hey.” I almost tripped and fell to the floor. At first I thought that he was wearing pants, but it turned out to be an ankle length skirt... The mesh shirt and T-shirt were still there, perhaps he had discovered a similar attraction for semi-covered arms. His makeup was simpler and the nail polish carefully applied.
“H..hi.” I whispered. He smiled and stepped a bit closer.
“So, how old are you?” he demanded. “You’ve gotta be at least eighteen to take the class.”
I swallowed with some difficulty. Even fully clothed he was fucking with my cock. “Eighteen.” I said. “H..how old are you?”
He smirked. “Twenty three.” His tongue darted out and trailed over his lower lip. “A little bit old for you, wouldn’t you say?”
“N..no.” SHIT! Why had I said that? But he didn’t seem phased. I wondered if anything bothered him. He was still staring at me like he was some pervert and I was an innocent school-girl. “I...I think I’d better get to class.”
“Don’t you want to stay with me?” he purred, leaning forward. “We could always fit something in beforehand. You don’t have class without me, right?” Pause as his hand reached out for mine. “You could always help...” I broke free and inched along the wall.
“I...I think I’ll just go to class.” Ran away, denying all of my inclinations. I could have peeled that fabric off of his skin, I could have run my fingers over his curves and into his bellybutton then down towards...I could have touched him!
There was a twitter as I entered the classroom. Gods, I was only two minutes late and Jay wasn’t even in yet, for fuck’s sake. I sat down behind my easel and started to arrange my pencils. The teacher smiled and started to hand back our papers from last time. “Put them in your portfolios so you can see how much you’ve progressed.” As she handed me back mine, she whispered, “We’re using watercolors today.” Indeed, there was a small little paint kit and a little tin of water next to my easel. I looked up and one of the middle-aged housewives was winking at me. I shuddered and buried my head. That was why they were laughing at me, I should have been relieved.
Heard the squeak as the door opened and instantly felt my face begin to burn. I would NOT look at him. Muted voices as he discussed things with the teacher, then the rustle of fabric. I couldn’t move. On the one hand, I wanted to see him, on the other I knew that if I did I was definitely going to run to the bathroom again.
Tap on my shoulder. “Ryan, why don’t you try and get started? We’ve only got forty minutes left in class...and we wouldn’t want to end up with just a hand again, would we?” she asked. I heard snickers. Fuck, I would have to look.
So I did.
At first all I could see were his feet, then my eyes traveled up his legs and SHIT!!! My head slammed back onto the easel. No...I couldn’t do this. And especially not with watercolors. All I wanted to do was paint him with them and then lick it off, perhaps lingering... Desperately panting. The water was right there, maybe I should just drink it and... No!
I had the feeling that if I didn’t come up with something, I was going to piss the teacher off.
Looked again. He was lying on his side, it almost looked like he was sleeping. His eyes were slits. And they were focused on me. I moaned quietly. The woman next to me turned and looked at my easel. “You should get started! Class is almost half over!”
I picked up the brush and put it to the paper. His fingers were creeping towards his mouth, I winced. Why couldn’t she have made him lie down so he was facing away from me? This was just torture. But a part of me liked it.
I focused on tracing the planes of his face, pretending that my brush was my hand, that each little bristle was a finger, that instead of the paper underneath my hand I was feeling his skin. That was a bad idea, as my cock got rock hard in little to no time. But I was going to finish something even if it resulted in a large mess in my pants. Brush shook in my hand, I stroked at the paper, teasing out little expressions of his skin, trying to bring a Jay that I could control into existence.
“That’s really good Ryan.” the teacher said behind me, patting my shoulder. “I think you’ll do fine in this class.” Looked at it and all I saw was lust. Looked at him and all I wanted to do was strip down and fuck him endlessly. My hand crept down to my cock and cupped it gently, trying to relieve some tension without being too obvious. Jay was licking his lips and rubbing at his nipples. I winced. Why could no one else see that? I wanted to tell the teacher and get her to fire him, but on the other hand I wanted to keep him here forever, to have her force him to pose for me so that I could capture all of his many forms with my mind.
“Okay class, that’s enough for today! You’re all progressing so well!” she said. I instantly shot up and ran outside, hurrying to gather my jacket and stuff, trying to leave before he could trap me again.
I was walking quickly on the nearly empty sidewalk when I heard someone calling my name. No...it was him.“Ryan!” he yelled, then “Fuck it! I can’t go that fast in a skirt...” he grumbled. I slowed before I even really thought about it.
“Why are you wearing one anyway?” I asked. “I mean...”
“It’s easier to take off.” he explained, pointing to the zipper at the back. “And when you’re late for class it’s nice.”
“So you do this often.”
He smiled and bumped his hand against mine, giving me a flirtatious sideways look. “Yes. Why, are you jealous?” He put his head on my shoulder and purred in my ear. “Does it make you hot to think that other guys see me naked?” I shuddered and closed my eyes, trying to walk faster and avoid him. “Fuck Ryan, just admit that you think I’m sexy!” he screamed. A few people turned and looked at me. Oh shit... I ran back and pulled him into an alley. He smiled and ran his hands over my chest, licking his lips. Why did he do that nearly constantly when he was looking at me? This was so outside of anything that I had ever experienced. I just wanted to go to work and then go home and masturbate.
But he was right there and he had cocked his head like he thought there was no way that I would refuse. And every inch of my cock was saying yes. “Yes, I do think that you’re sexy, but that doesn’t translate into me wanting to...” Suddenly his lips were over mine, his tongue was in my mouth and I just wanted more of him. Moaned and my hips just ground into his, feeling his hard-on, gods...
“Jay?!” a voice at the end of the alley. He looked at the possessor of a somewhat adolescent sounding tone.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“My room-mate.” I frowned at him. “No, we don’t do anything, he’s straight. Just...just go, okay?!” he said, pushing me away and clomping towards his friend. I stared after them, then looked at my watch. Fuck! I was late for work!