By Mr. Creamjeans
Everything returned to normal at the Ansonia Academy for Boys after the
holiday weekend. Everything, that is, except Steve Francelli's state of mind.
His brief sexual encounter with Devon had turned his world – and his self-image
– upside down.
His roommate, Tom, knew the truth of what happened between the two boys,
but didn't let on to Steve. He did try to calm Steve down and convince him that
he should stop spreading stories about Devon. He told Steve that if he kept it
up, it might make someone question why he was in Devon's room to start with.
But Tom was getting kind of tired of listening to Steve make up stories and
babble on about Devon. He was realizing that Steve, who'd been a buddy for some
time, was kind of an asshole, while Devon was really OK. Yeah, Devon was
probably gay, but he did some pretty wild stuff – jacking off in his pants in
class, and then creaming his already cum-stained gym shorts in front of him.
Even though Tom knew he himself liked girls, he had to admit that watching his
classmate do that was exciting.
Steve agonized over his own encounter with Devon. Not only did his plans to
embarrass Devon backfire, Steve ended up cumming in his pants before he could
make Devon do it. And it wasn't just a seminal emission like he usually had
when he was watching someone else be humiliated, but a full-on, gut wrenching
climax that filled his boxers and pants with a massive load of jism. As much as
Steve wanted to shut the whole thing out of his mind, he kept beating himself
up for letting a little, skinny, weakling, queer kid make him lose control like
that. He certainly wouldn't admit to himself that handling Devon's oversized
hard-on through his gym shorts and feeling his hot, slippery cum on his hand
had really turned him on, even though he still got hard every time he thought
about it.
Devon, on the other hand, wasn't too worried about Steve. He knew Steve had
much more to lose in terms of his status with his friends at the Academy by
making a big deal about this, and he knew that Tom was on his side. Besides,
now that school was back in session, he got to see his favorite teacher, Mr.
Hoener, again. Devon had actually been saving his load for the last 24 hours
(something he almost never did) so he could release it in Mr. Hoener's class.
He was wearing two pairs of cotton briefs under his school uniform trousers to
help soak up the mess he knew he was going to make.
When the class filed into the room, Devon was among the first to arrive. He
sat in his usual seat in the front row and smiled at his handsome teacher.
As for Ken Hoener, he'd been able to come to terms with Devon's boyhood
crush on him, as well as the student's habit of masturbating through his pants
in his class. Ken found that if he masturbated himself before class, he was
less like to react visibly to Devon's (or any other student's) sexual activity.
He did nothing to discourage Devon directly, but he had a feeling that if he
didn't get erect while teaching, things might calm down a bit. That wasn't
entirely true, though. Devon's crush on his teacher was complete. Everything
about him turned Devon on: his voice, his hair, his wardrobe, his physique, and
of course the bulge in his slacks.
Devon had been saving himself for Mr. Hoener. And even though it was only a
day, that was an eternity for a hormone-infused adolescent like Devon. From the
moment Mr. Hoener stood up to begin teaching, Devon was transfixed and his hand
was busy in his lap.
Ken saw this, of course, and gave Devon a brief look into his eyes with
only the slightest smile crossing his lips. But he quickly resumed his
authoritative demeanor as he continued the lesson. In the back of the
classroom, Steve saw that subtle signal of approval and knew what was
happening. He began watching Devon closely to see if he could tell if Devon was
masturbating in class again. (Such activity was now allowed in Mr. Hoener's
geography class, but Steve still considered it an embarrassing source of
potential humiliation.)
And there it was -- a slight rhythmical motion of the upper arm. Devon was
playing with himself with Mr. Hoener's approval! Steve leaned over to Tom and
whispered loudly, "See? That little queer's going for it again."
"Yeah? So what?" Tom responded, hoping to head off another rant
from Steve. But now Tom became interested in what Devon was doing, too. His
angle of view wasn't as good as Steve's but he could detect a little regular
movement of Devon's arm. He was a little surprised when he glanced back over at
Steve, though. Steve was staring intently at Devon, and his hand was busy
rubbing his pants! Even a schoolboy like Tom could figure this one out -- Steve
was actually gay but couldn't admit it to himself! Tom wondered if Steve was
going to take this all the way to an orgasm, so his attention was now divided between
Steve and Devon.
Devon, of course, was blissfully unaware of what was going on in the back
rows of the class. His entire focus was on his handsome teacher. He kept
watching his pants to see if his cock bulge was growing, and was slightly
disappointed that it seemed to grow only slightly. But it didn't matter. Mr.
Hoener was the wonderful man who understood his sexual needs and actually
hugged him and rubbed his cum-stained pants to a second climax while letting
him feel a grown-up's clothed orgasm. Devon knew it wouldn't take much longer
to release his pent-up load in his briefs.
Steve hadn't cum either since his encounter with Devon. He had been so
distraught that he couldn't even think about his usual jack-off routine. So he
had two days' load saved up. As he squeezed and pulled at the tip of his stiff
pecker, deep down he knew it would end in release, but his focus was entirely
on Devon and imagining humiliating ways to get some kind of revenge.
'That little queer is doing it in class again. I bet he's gonna make a big
mess in his pants. Maybe I can make some of the other guys look at it during
the break. Yeah, that's it. They'll all laugh at him cuz he's a little fag with
a wet cum spot on his pants.'
Steve was getting more and more aroused as these thoughts filled his head.
Picturing a group of tough guys standing around pointing and laughing at Devon,
who would be standing there looking embarrassed, trying in vain to conceal a
large wet stain on his pants, was just the trigger that Steve needed.
Tom was getting a major boner watching these two guys masturbating through
their pants in class. But Tom didn't really want to mess up his boxers today
(at least not this early in the day) so he kept his hands on top of the desk.
The teacher was fully aware of what was going on. He had pretty much come
to the same conclusion as Tom did regarding Steve. His bullying was
over-compensation for deeply suppressed homosexual urges. However, Ken was
keenly aware that Steve needed to be handled very carefully because he had the
potential to cause real trouble. So Ken continued his lesson, occasionally
giving a quick glance at the two masturbating boys in his class.
Steve started imagining his tough friends going up to Devon one-by-one and
feeling the shiny wet spot on his school uniform pants while laughing at him.
That did it. Without giving any outward sign, Steve began leaking hot cum into
his boxers. Being very thin fabric, the wetness soaked through quickly, and a
stain appeared on his pants. As he usually did, he unconsciously spread the
wetness around and stimulated his trapped cock head to coax more of the
slippery goo out of his balls.
A squishing noise caught Tom's attention. He looked under Steve's desk and
saw a large blob of shiny white liquid oozing through the fabric of his pants.
Steve was staring with laser intensity at Devon, his lips moving slightly, as
his fingertips played with the ever-growing wet splotch. Tom's cock jumped as
if to say, "I want to do that!" but Tom held steady.
Meanwhile, in the front row, Devon also began ejaculating into his
underwear. The only clue was a very soft, almost inaudible sigh as his cum
began pouring out of his trapped cock and soaking his briefs. Ken looked down
at him and saw the same longing expression he'd seen before. Devon's classroom
orgasm was a pure expression of the love he felt for his teacher, and the heavy
spurts of semen that filled his shorts and swam around his balls was a
testament to a whole 24 hours of abstinence.
Steve had Devon beat by a whole day in the abstinence department, and
because of his thin boxers and the fact that his short boner was poking
straight into the fabric, his extra-large load was making a really horrible,
juicy mess on the outside of his school uniform. The squishy-wet noises coming
from under the desk even caught the attention of another of Steve's buddies in
the back row. Unaware of what triggered Steve’s orgasm, he just smirked.
Finally, both boys were finished draining their loads into their pants.
Devon's body sagged visibly as the tension drained away. Steve took this as a
sign that he had in fact cum in his pants in class. Oblivious of his own
situation, he made plans to embarrass Devon at the next break.
Ken caught a whiff of boy-cum in the air. This wasn't so unusual in this class,
but it did trigger a little more swelling in his pants. He looked at Devon who
returned his gaze with a big grin. Ken gave Devon a slight shake of the head
and a sly grin as if to say, "You got away with it again, you little
devil!" Devon's grin got even bigger.
When class ended, Steve bounded out of the room so he could meet up with
his buddies and be ready to tease Devon about his cum stain. He met them where
they usually hung out and, holding his own notebook in front of his crotch,
told them to get ready to give the little queer Devon a hard time.
Devon was walking along, holding his notebook perfectly normally at his
side, when Steve called out, "Hey Devon, were you jacking off in class
again? Let's see how wet your pants are!" His friends all chuckled.
Devon faced the group, spread his arms apart and said, "My pants
aren't wet." All eyes went to his crotch. Sure enough, there was no
visible evidence that he had jacked off in class.
Steve's jaw just dropped. He had no idea Devon was wearing two pairs of
thick cotton briefs under his uniform trousers. The briefs had absorbed nearly
all of his sizeable load. What did soak through was a little bit between his
legs, but it was invisible when he was standing. "Bullshit!" Steve
shouted. And then his impulsiveness caused him to make another stupid move. He
went over to Devon and clamped his hand over his zipper. Now his friends' jaws
dropped.
"Hey man, what are you doing?" Devon said loudly. Several other
students turned around to see Steve apparently groping another boy. When Steve
did that though, his other hand, the one carrying his notebook, moved away from
his crotch exposing the still-shiny mess on the front of his own pants. Devon
picked up on it right away. "It looks like you're the one with the cummy
pants, man."
A roar of laughter came from Steve's buddies, most of whom were now
pointing at him. "Whoa, check it out!" "Look at that wet
patch!" "What were you doing, Steve?"
Steve looked back at Devon with murder in his eyes. "You little queer!
I'm gonna kick your ass!" he shouted, and then he once again shoved Devon,
this time knocking him to the ground. He was just about to pounce when another
voice joined the uproar.
"What the hell's going on here?" It was Coach Wagner! "Mr.
Francelli, you stop where you are." The coach came over and looked down at
Devon. He recognized him as the student who willingly helped him get off after
his "self-control" lecture. "You OK, son?" he asked,
offering his hand to help Devon up.
"He was masturbating in Mr. Hoener's class!" Steve whined.
"I saw him!"
"Well, Mr. Francelli, I don't see any evidence of that on him, but I
sure see it on you. It looks like you've got a week's worth of your precious
male essence soaking into your pants." The coach then reached down and
felt the slimy goo that covered Steve's crotch. "Yep, that's what it is,
all right! What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked as he continued
to massage the wetness into the fabric of the boy’s pants.
Steve just hung his head in shame. His buddies were all off to the side,
laughing hysterically. Devon stood there smirking at his tormentor. And the
coach was feeling his wet pants, wet boxers and his cock and balls in front of
the whole student body.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to write you up for this disorderly and
disruptive conduct, young man," the coach said, secretly relishing the
experience of feeling a student’s cum-stained pants. "Now everybody, let's
break this up and go on to your next classes." He then quietly said to
Steve, “And I suggest you hurry back to the dorms to change your disgustingly
soiled pants, or you’ll be late for your next class.”
The coach’s comment just bounced off Steve. He was glaring at Devon as the
boy turned to walk to his next class. But when Devon looked back at him over
his shoulder and gave Steve a slight smirk, Steve lost it.
“You little fag!” he screamed as he lunged toward Devon. But before he
could lay a hand on his classmate, Coach Wagner grabbed him by the arm and
reined him in.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of you! We’re going to the principal’s office,”
the coach bellowed. Steve struggled briefly, still wanting to take out his
anger on Devon, but the coach’s iron grip on his arm made him realize the
futility of it.
What no one knew, even the coach, was that Steve had been sent to Ansonia
Academy by his parents as a last resort. He’d had disciplinary problems at
every school he’d been in, and he was admitted to this school under a
zero-tolerance agreement regarding disruptive or violent behavior. Once the
coach presented him to the principal and reported what he’d seen, Steve was
expelled on the spot.
A couple of days after Steve had packed his things and his parents came to
get him, Tom caught up with Devon in the hallway between classes. “Hey, Devon!
Wait up,” he called out.
“What’s up, Tom?”
“The dorm captain was telling me that I could choose a new roommate if I
wanted to. I was just wondering if you wanted to move in with me,” he said.
Devon had come to like Tom, especially since the porn-sharing they’d done
in Devon’s room. And Tom’s room was bigger than his, with windows that looked
out over the playing field. Devon smiled broadly. “Sure!”
After a short time living together, Devon decided to take Steve’s old seat
next to Tom in the back of Mr. Hoener’s class. This worked out in several ways:
Devon wasn’t constantly distracting the teacher, and Mr. Hoener was kind of grateful
for that; Devon didn’t feel like he needed to be so stealthy when he was
rubbing his cock in his pants; and Tom got to watch Devon jacking off in class.
(Tom tried to control his own urges to jack off but wasn’t always successful –
it was not uncommon to see both boys leave class with their notebooks over
their pants.) Back in their dorm room, both boys got to share looking at porn (Devon
looking at guys while Tom watched Devon, and Tom looking at girls while Devon
watched Tom). They had cum-holding, quick-cum, and wet spot contests, and they spilled
gallons of cum in their shorts with no shame or guilt. They also did a lot of
laundry together.
Oh, and Steve got the counselling he needed.