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Junior High Sex

Junior High School
A short story; but all true

Junior high school is the time that most people are first experiencing their sexuality. I already knew that I was gay; or queer, as it was called back then. I did not like the label “queer," but the word “gay” was not in popular usage, yet. We only had one junior high school in town and it was a very old building, probably over sixty years old. The gymnasium had no area for bleachers, very small shower rooms and was not used for much activity. There was no playground associated with the school, as the school covered nearly a half of a city block and the rest of the block was devoted to residential homes except for the YMCA and a church at the other end of the block.

The boys were expected to play baseball, like it or not and I was not an athlete. So in the spring and fall we were walked over to a grade school, about two blocks away, where we utilized their playground and ball diamond. The school board knew how to maximize their investment. We were outdoors, so there was no need to have showers. After all, who expected young boys of twelve and thirteen to work up a smelly sweat that needed to be washed off? I hated baseball; in fact, I hated all athletic activity. I was not the kind of boy that liked to cook or sew; I just was not interested in the physical activities. In other words, I was a nerd. It was during junior high school that we were introduced to wood shop class. I did participate in that, not that I was interested; but I made the cheapest item on the list, a small wastebasket. I thought school should be for “book learning.” That was all that I was interested in. What thirteen-year-old boy wanted to be in school, anyway?

In the winter months, the “gym class” was marched around the corner to the local YMCA. They had a larger gymnasium and a swimming pool and wrestling room; in which we were expected to show our manly skills. I could not swim and still cannot. Even, to this day, I will not put my head under water in a swimming pool. Anyway, we were required to ***** naked, or as they called it “dress for swimming” and shower before entering the pool area. I called it undressing and betting naked. There were about thirty naked boys in that locker room; many had the same thoughts that I had. I was not the only boy there that had to suppress thoughts of sprouting a woody. If a boy was spotted with a hard ****, the rest of the guys would make fun of him. It was a very difficult position in which to be.

I believe the idea behind this completely naked swimming by the boys was to help the school administration to pick out the queers. It allowed them to label the gay boys, a label that would follow them through life. Very unfair, I thought. My mother wrote a note to the school administration, requesting I be excused from participating in the swimming classes; due to my having severe illness in the second grade. In addition, she agreed that the idea of all the boys being naked was not in accordance with our religion. Nevertheless, I am sure the label “queer” was attached to my school records.

The months that the girls were allowed to swim, the boys were required to learn to wrestle. What a stupid waste of time, I thought. Well, at least we were allowed to keep our clothes on. If I lost control of my ****, only the boy I was wrestling would know unless he would blab to the others. I know many of the guys would get hard; because I would ride my bike home with Lyndon and we talked about how the body contact would get us hard. I did participate in the wrestling class a few times; but was not that interested in having another hot male body pressed against mine; at least not when the eyes of twenty-eight other boys were watching. That activity would be more appreciated if we were alone. I am sure the thought crossed Lyndon’s mind; but we never got it on at his house.

Junior high school was, also, the first time I had to do homework. The math, alone, took an hour each evening. My mother used to attend church on Sunday nights and Wednesday nights. I stayed home to do my homework, or so I told her. Well, I was working when she left and working when she arrived home, but the major portion of the time she was gone, I was jacking off.

I would do my homework on the dining room table from which I could watch her walk down the street towards church. As soon as she was a block away, I would run upstairs to my bedroom or the bathroom. I either did a “quickie jack off" on my bed or took my time for a long slow **** by using an enema or douche nozzle in my *******. The amount of homework determined the amount of time I could devote to my sexual fantasies. Needless to say, my little pucker soon learned how to open for foreign objects and the pipe douche did not stay foreign to it for long. I was very careful to replace the items that gave me so much pleasure after their use.

There were many sex stories spread around the school. One classmate claimed to have been raped by upperclassmen. He claimed they stuck a tree branch up his ***. If true, it must have hurt a lot when it was removed. I heard that the alleged rape left him hurt and bleeding and in the hospital. The teachers advised us, after that alleged rape occurred, not to go to the restroom alone. I think I made only three or four trips to the restroom in the entire two years. I held it until I got home for lunch or after school.

Junior high school is a very traumatic time for young people. First, many are just coming into an understanding of their sexuality, and to be forced into these situations, is enough to give these young people a permanent complex. The older students took advantage of the younger ones in every way. Books were stolen, clothes were ruined, bicycles were damaged, students were raped and others were terrorized. The school board should have understood these situations and provided better protection for the students and their property. Kids have enough problems growing up without having to be terrorized in school.
jimdean001 jimdean001 66-70 Mar 2, 2011

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