Harrad High Sex Ed
By
Tim Stillman
(for Harold, again)
Man. I still can't believe it. We had first class of Sex Ed. Today. God, I love Harrad High. I mean, get it, we walk into class and the teacher says, before you sit down, strip. We look at him and each other and at him again, waiting for the joke. He smiled. We knew it was coming. No, really, he said, take off your clothes; this is Sex Ed. We were stunned beyond belief, to say the least. How can you learn about sex with your clothes on? He asked this so reasonably that we no longer thought it a joke or thought him insane. So we stripped like quicker than lightning.
And there we were, our clothes piled by our chairs in the warm classroom this second of September-man, is high school awesome or what? There were 10 boys in class. The girls, he said are in their own separate sex ed. Class. Most of the guys groaned. I smiled inwardly because I liked guys anyway. And after all if there were only guys in class, and like Mr. Morgan said, we have to practice on ourselves AND EACH OTHER, wow mamma, well, a guy's gotta work with what he has available is how I look at it. And I did look at it. I looked at some hunky bodies and some thin bodies and some tall and some short and some somewhat hairy and some with no hair at all. I was the bravest for a while. I looked unabashedly around me, and finally some embarrassed eyes looked a little around too.
There were the jocks, the studious ones, the shy painful redheaded one in particular, the jokers whose bodies sprouted half erections which embarrassed them tremendously, their cocks were joking even if the jokers weren't now, and some kids laughed embarrassedly, and others had turned their backs immediately to the class when they were naked--nice butts too, all kinds--I want this one from row a and that one from row c and the final two on the last row for dessert.
Then Mr. Morgan passed out the textbooks. Some groaned. Most just wanted to sit down and cover their dicks--there were all sizes penises, some cut, others not, some with little pubic hair, some with medium, some with a lot--this Goldilocks thought they all just looked fine just as they were--the skin was peaches and cream, and chocolate brandy, and pale sun winter bodies, and I couldn't help but notice a few eyes went over my body too, as everybody got to sit and cover their penises and balls-though why would we want to? --They were all so beautiful--before the hour was over, way way too fast, it seemed, me included, I was not any less awkward and shy and blushing than many of the others, all of us got comfortable being naked with each other, so there was such fun then, and we laughed at the teacher's jokes as he put us at ease, making us feel good about ourselves, even our zits.
His quiet calm voice as he sat, he fully clothed and always would be, on his desk, just looking at us as a normal dressed class, said all the things we were worried about, and ticked through them one at a time, and helped us smile at our insecurities and how ashamed we were of some things--he said society does that and to always be proud of ourselves; I think he is the greatest teacher alive.
He told us that in class along the way, we would discuss masturbation, and the students would have a chance to volunteer to masturbate in class and we could see how he and hopefully other volunteers would do it, chances were it would be in a different way than we did. He said we would be quite surprised at how unique we were there, and who spurted and who didn't, what it would look like and how much. He said we would practice girl kissing by kissing each other on the lips. That we would measure our erections and discuss from the textbook, yes there was a textbook, with incredible pictures, he told us, and smiled big; so after I eat dinner, man, am I going to look at that book. He said most boys our age and younger and older are hard all the time, except sometimes when they are embarrassed--but now, he said, we aren't embarrassed it seems. So he told us to take our hands from our laps, to stand up, if we wanted to, and make ourselves hard or if we are hard already, let the class see that too...
Well, I hopped up immediately, try anything once twice ten times Tim, and displayed my almost five inch erection. I had not been sure it looked good but the other boys' eyes were fastened on it, and some of them stood up, already hard, or rubbing themselves, or magically blooming their hardness without touching it, as we watched...one of the boys reached out and Touched My Penis I thought I was going to cum right then and there; I closed my eyes and prayed this better not be a dream--then I opened them again. And there every body was with their bodies beautiful in the glow of the morning sunlight outside the long straight windows, the sound from other classes in the air, cars going by. And Tommy gripped my penis harder as all the other boys leaned over to watch closely and I closed my eyes again on Tommy's impish little golden grin...but then the bell rang...and scared us all. As we rapidly dressed...as if caught doing something dirty, Mr. Morgan said, remember, there is nothing dirty about this at all; the course has been given total approval in every detail; this is Harrad, remember, like no other high school on Earth...so read chapter one tonight, leaf through he pictures--like he had to tell us--and on to your next class; see you tomorrow morning. Ha, let's see anyone ever cut this class.
The next class we hard horntoads went to didn't have our full attention. We were too busy thinking about what tomorrow would bring. And the day after that. And the day after that. Oh please God, Harrad High, never let me go.
(If anyone is interested in a continuation of this Harrad story please email me-comments are always welcomed)