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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Putting My Story to Bed
by Dan Perducci (danperducci@yahoo.co.uk)

***

A young student on the school newspaper gets an unusual 
wake-up call while working to meet a deadline. (MM-
teens, 1st-gay-expr, oral)

***

The clacking sound of the manual typewriter was the 
soundtrack of my eighth grade year. I was a reporter 
for the school newspaper at Montgomery Junior High 
School and there seemed to be a deadline every day.

Even though the newspaper was monthly, our faculty 
advisor Miss Randolph was a diva who wrote for "The New 
York Herald-Tribune" and expected us to write like we 
were also staffers for her venerable former employer.

We had a nice office that adjoined her classroom. 
Connected by a door, we could use it for a darkroom or 
a sanctuary from the travails of the day. 

It was this morning that I was firing off a draft of my 
opinion column. I believed that students should not pay 
full price for lost textbooks. I even used the word, 
'depreciation.' I knew that Miss Randolph would be 
proud of my word power.

She let me in early in the day so I could finish my 
commentary. With just an hour before homeroom, I knew 
that my worst enemy was the dreaded typo. Make one 
mistake and you're starting over again.

Miss Randolph was in a faculty meeting and I was zoning 
out over my work. I imagined myself as a grizzled old 
writer smoking a Chesterfield and swigging from his hip 
flask for the afternoon edition.

The fluorescent light above me hummed and I marveled at 
my words per minute. Our school was not the cleanest in 
the district but I glad that I wasn't going to our 
cross-town rival - Central Junior High. That said, a 
roach might be seen in our corridors.

What was another word for 'buy?'

I blindly reached behind me to retrieve a thesaurus. 

I felt something light cross my hand. The thought of a 
cockroach startled me enough to freeze and do 
everything I could to avoid the sight of it.

"Don't be scared, I promise I won't bite you," said the 
whisper behind me.

I turned around to look at him holding the thesaurus. 
It was my editor, Kevin McLane. I didn't know if he was 
trying to creep me out or get my attention.

I looked up to this ninth grader in a kind of hero 
worship. He looked down on me (and everybody else) as 
if nobody could ever replace him on the student 
newspaper staff. He won state awards for our newspaper 
for the first time in our school's history.

He laughed and pointed out to me that I could have used 
the word 'purchase.' The bastard must have read my 
mind. I rose from my seat to take the paperback book 
from his hand. 

He smiled rather puckishly.

"Are you ready to put this to bed now that we have a 
synonym for buy?"

I smiled faintly and returned to my seat. I resumed 
typing with the hope that he would do away. Instead, I 
heard the sound of a door shutting and locking.

He leaned over my shoulder and made his presence very 
obvious. I felt his breathing in my ear. It had the 
sound of an obscene phone call that comes in the night.

He was already in my 'personal space' by the time I 
felt his nose in my ear. I was freaked out by the 
feeling of another boy seeming to caress me. I was not 
prepared for what would happen next. 

I knew that he was not attempting to whisper in my ear 
because there was nobody else in the room. It was just 
the two of us. Besides, the door behind us was locked.

By now, I had stopped my typing and closed my eyes. 
Something was stirring inside of me; I didn't know 
whether to fight it or let it ride.

"You know you like this," he whispered in my ear. 

I was too shocked to reply. I felt like a stone inside 
of me was melting. I believe now that it was my resolve 
that was falling away. I would not have normally 
submitted to advances from a guy but this windowless 
office may have afforded me the discreet opportunity to 
be seduced.

It amused me for a second. I knew that no girl at 
school would dare attempt to take me. They were all 
waiting to be taken by some athlete or other popular 
guy. I would have been lucky just to get a hello in the 
halls.

"Do you really want to do this?" I asked Kevin.

"Ever since you first joined the newspaper," he 
wistfully told me.

I had some unusual power that I had over my 'boss.' I 
was overwhelmed by this attraction that drew him to be 
kissing my neck and rubbing my shoulders.

I glanced up at the clock and saw that there was 
another thirty minutes until the morning bell. I was 
certain that the time would fly by and the door would 
soon be unlocked to reveal two perverted students.

I was too charmed by Kevin, however, to do a thing. He 
detected a new urgency in my body language and 
reassuringly rested his palms on my shoulders. He 
kissed me squarely on the lips as if to say don't 
worry.

When he kissed me softly on the lips he then used his 
tongue to part my lips. He started a warm tongue kiss 
inside of my mouth. It was my first such kiss with 
anybody. I did not know what to do but respond as 
passively as a CPR dummy.

"Never been kissed?" he asked before continuing his 
game of tonsil hockey with me.

I hope that he did not take this for a lack of passion 
because my crotch was making up for any numbness that 
may have been in my mouth.

He reached down into my lap and soon discovered my 
hardness. It was sticking straight up and was obviously 
ready for something.

Kevin snaked his hand into my pants and played my cock 
for a few seconds. Wanting to pull it out, he fished 
around like he was on a hunt for an elusive catch.

"I'm going to release this prisoner," he said with a 
chuckle.

In a flash, he unfastened my pants and yanked my member 
from my jockey shorts with a flourish. 

My red pubic hairs were exposed in an alien location. I 
never exposed myself anywhere outside of my own home. 
My penis was no indication of this anxiety.

Attuned to the scarcity of time, Kevin wasted none in 
swooping down on my throbbing dick. It felt funny to 
feel this wetness around it. It had a funky sensation 
like when my dog tried to lick my hand except of course 
this tongue and mouth were surrounding my penis.

I truly felt like someone to see this fourteen year old 
'upperclassman's' head rising and falling in my lap. He 
was hungry for something this morning and he was seeing 
to it that he would be satisfied. 

I was troubled by the fact that I let myself fall prey 
so quickly. I didn't even raise an objection. My only 
worry was that our office was infested by cockroaches 
and not cocksuckers. Did this mean that I was a queer?

I imagined that we were in the gym showers. Water was 
rinsing our primal sweat from our bodies. He was 
blowing me like I had always wanted Betsy D'Angelo, the 
class tease, to do so.

Ten minutes surged past as I experienced something so 
sweet and new. It took ten minutes for me to have my 
first orgasm with somebody else. He swallowed my cum 
like he had some experience and recovered almost like 
nothing had happened.

He kissed me quickly on the lips with a stickiness that 
was not quite similar to kissing someone who had just 
finished eating an ice cream cone.

I finished my writing. He left the office. School 
started that day and we published our paper that 
afternoon.

There would be more deadlines to meet. There would be 
more morning meetings until Miss Montgomery caught us 
(we forgot to lock the door one morning in March). 

Kevin lost his job as editor that morning and he begged 
Miss Montgomery to show mercy. She stuck to her guns 
until she learned the following morning that Kevin 
tried to overdose on his mother's sleeping pills.

I confronted her about this before she settled on 
Kevin's replacement. I knew where she kept her gin in 
her desk and I told her that we all had something to 
share with the principal.

Fortunately, we were the only ones who were aware of 
this situation and he kept his job while she kept hers. 
I love blackmail! 

"You're lucky that I am from New York and I used to 
work with homosexuals. You're no problem to me but I 
suggest that you find other places to fuck around," she 
said.

She didn't need to tell us twice. We worked on our 
articles in his parents' study and in my basement for 
the rest of the school year.

We lost touch after he was promoted to the local high 
school. It is there that I am sure that he found new 
loves in the boys there.

As for me, I became the sports editor in my ninth grade 
year and enjoyed following our sports teams. If you 
know what I mean...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 32