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by Cole Parker

It wasn?t entirely my fault. It was circumstances. That was it. Circumstances. Lots of life is, you know. It could happen to anyone, if the circumstances were right.

I was up late the night before. I?d left an essay for Mrs. Gallagher till too late, as usual, and was working on it when Mom said it was time for bed. I yelled OK at her, but still had a long way to go.

When she came up later, I was still hard at it. She stuck her head in my door and tut tutted but spared me the procrastination talk I?d already heard too many times. I just kept thinking and writing.

Part of what I thought was how lucky I was, being able to do this on my computer. I?d write something, then delete a few words and add better ones. I?d move entire paragraphs to different positions in the essay, see what that did, how it looked, and then move them again to test their effect elsewhere. I?d spell-checked the thing and made the needed changes. And all the while, I was wondering how kids wrote essays before there were computers.

I was up till almost midnight, but had it printed it out by then and could finally hit the sack. I was tired. Too much thinking, too late an hour. I didn?t even have the energy for how I usually rewarded myself for going to bed when it was time. Not that I didn?t want to. I was just too tired.

And so I slept later than I should have the next morning, had to skip my shower in the rush to get to the bus on time. This left me even hornier than usual and still tired, tired only as someone who?s been yanked out of bed still fast asleep by an unsympathetic mother who?s going to be late herself can relate to.

But I got to the bus on time, barely. I was at the beginning of the route, one of the first to be picked up every morning. The bus was practically empty. I took my usual seat and settled in for the 40 minute ride by putting my backpack up against were the window met the back of the seat, used it for a pillow, and easily resumed my recently aborted slumber.

Kids got on the bus as we followed our route. I was left alone in my slumbers until, finally, the seats were filling and someone sat down next to me. It woke me, and through blurry eyes, I looked to see who it was. I didn?t recognize him.

It was a new kid, a boy about my age. He had long blond hair, and a long face as well. He was looking at me just as curiously as I was looking at him. I sat up to give him more room, setting my backpack on the floor next to where he put his.

?Hi,? I said, and yawned. He laughed, which made me do the same. I think that laugh broke the ice I usually felt meeting new people. It sort of felt that way. His eyes sparkled, and I had the feeling he noticed the same thing.

?Hi. Late to bed, or something else in bed?? Then he laughed again. ?Oh, I?m randy. Well, my name is Tommy, but I?m randy.?

He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I was shocked at how forward he was. I was going to say something, but he went first. ?I guess you are too, huh??

I frowned, wondering what he was talking about, until he pointed and asked, ?Morning wood, or do my sexy looks turn you on?? And laughed again.

I looked down and blushed. I was very obvious. Yeah, I guess morning wood would be about right, but it had never happened on the school bus before. I usually didn?t take a nap going to school, and I?d usually taken care of my urges either the night or morning before this ride.

As I said, circumstances.

The way I was sitting, there was no question what Tommy was looking at. It was sticking up in all it?s glory. Tommy was still laughing, and then, AND THEN, he reached over and put his hand around it.

?What are you doing?? I gasped, and tried to jerk back, but he was holding on and there wasn?t anywhere to jerk to anyway. They didn?t build those buses with student comfort in mind.

?What, you don?t like this?? he responded, and began rhythmically squeezing his hand, not stroking, just squeezing.

My god! I was 14, and it never did take much for me to get off, and I was horny anyway, and now this?

?Stop!? I said, the urgency I was feeling manifest in my voice. He grinned, and didn?t stop at all.

?I?m going to come! Stop!? I whispered desperately.

He did. But it was too late. The rush came anyway, and as he watched I started jerking in my seat, filling my briefs with spasm after spasm.

I heard in the distance a vague roar, and as it became louder, it also became more distinct. Suddenly, I was awake, and opened my eyes to see half the kids on the bus standing and elbowing to see me better, roaring with laughter, some of the girls blushing but not looking away, some of the boys cheering along with their laughing. There I was, sitting with my head on my backpack, sprawled out with one leg on seat and one on the floor, the front of my pants wet and pooched out, my hips still bobbing up and down sporadically.

Some of the boys started clapping, and then everyone was.

There was no Tommy. Never had been. Only me, wondering how I was ever going to live this down, or even survive the day with my khaki pants showing exactly what had happened.

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Yikes. I spent many middle-of-the-night hours during my adolescence awakening in a sweat from a recurring nightmare of appearing naked in some classroom. The impact of the sort of experience as Cole details here just staggers my mind.


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Great story Cole. It is so right-on and accurate! It reminds me of my pre-high school days.

My favorite horror was in intermediate school (6th through 8th grades), getting a boner and then the teacher calls me to go up to the board to write something or solve a problem or whatever was appropriate for that class. Except at that moment I wasn't appropriate for that class. Fortunately, if a guy asked "Can I pass?" usually the teacher would make some aspersion about our failure to study and pick someone else. Needless to say, asking "Can I pass?" never worked for the girls.

The biggest horror was thinking you might cream your jeans in class. It never happened to me, but let's say it came really, really close a few times. On the Classroom to Boys Room Run I set several records that still stand at Walnut Creek Intermediate!

Colin :hehe:

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

This is definitely the one time I always, and clearly, think "I'm soooo glad i'm a girl.

But there's also one where I think "Next time i'mma be a boy, and have one of those..."

No, Freud, it's isn't a penis.

Funny flash, Cole, and mischievous too.


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