David, My High School Crush

This story begins with the same narrative as ‘David Was My High School Crush’; however, it takes place in high school, and it assumes that something different happened in high school for the two main characters.

Most of high school was a horrible time for me as it is with many people.  My big achievement was being first chair oboe, but there were only three of us, and the other two were mediocre at best.  During the marching season, I played alto sax.  Marching with a double reed is expensive as the reeds are fragile, and once the reed was obliterated, no more sound.  So things worked out financially as well as giving me the ability to play two instruments.

Being gay in high school was the big reason that things were horrible.  It was a time when just being thought of as gay could get someone beaten, so I did my best not to let on.  And I could have probably made it through without letting anyone in on my secret except for that one guy.

My big crush was a baseball player named David Hooze.  He was six feet of muscle.  His blond hair and blue eyes made him everyone’s crush.  The guys wanted to be him; the girls wanted to bed him and have his babies.  Even the lesbians wanted a chance to have his babies.  There were rumors that the gay guys offered discretion with a side of oral sex, but he was steadfast.  I heard him tell his buddies once that he wasn’t going to be sidelined by some chick that wanted to increase her chance of having blue-eyed offspring.

I mostly kept my distance and memorized the way he looked every chance I got.  We were in a couple of classes together through the years, and I never hesitated to be his partner or on his team for group projects.  I even joined the yearbook group as a photographer and volunteered to attend the baseball games.  “We don’t send photographers to baseball games,” I was told.   “They deserve the coverage, too,” I insisted.  So I got to hang out after practice and go to the games.  I took lots of shots of David.  Of course, I downloaded them to my computer, and only gave the yearbook a few of the best of all the members of the team.

Thinking about David drove me crazy.  At night, when I was all alone, I would hug my pillow and kiss it.  I tried humping it while I called it David, but that never worked well.  I snatched a bottle of Jergens hand lotion from the bathroom.  I got naked in the bed, lotioned my hands really well, held them together and slid my cock through them.  I’d pretend I was fucking David’s ass.  I wanted so much for him to know I existed that I spent many hours contemplating how I would tell him.

When the talent show was announced my junior year, I had a great idea.  I slipped a note into David’s locker.  It said:

Dearest David,

Have you ever listened to the song “This Guy’s in Love with You” by Bert Bacharach?  My biggest dream is that you sing the song to me.  Maybe I can sing the song to you as well.  

Your secret love.

For weeks I wondered if he read the note.  Of course, I didn’t want him to talk about the note.  It needed to be a secret.  I kept watching him.  Part of me feared he would figure it out, and I was just as fearful that he wouldn’t.  I got the feeling that he was watching me, and he would smile when he noticed I was looking at him.

Finally, the day of the talent show arrived, and I sang “This Guy’s in Love with You.”  I thought I did a great job, but I placed second to a pitchy rendition of “Don’t it Make my Brown Eyes Blue.”  She was probably fucking one the coaches who were the judges, not that I’m bitter.

David was one of the people who came up to congratulate me.  He told me he really enjoyed it, and he asked me if I needed a right home.  My parents were there, and my mother jumped right in to let him know that they were taking me home.

“Some other time,” I said.

The next time we had a chance to talk without anyone else around was just before a baseball practice.  I was sitting in the bleachers on the front row hoping he might show up early, and he did.

“So,” he said, “you sent the note.”

“Yeah, I did,” I stood up and moved a little closer.  “Do you hate me?”

“Hate you?  Are you kidding?  I fucking love you.  I’ve loved you for years.  I’ve been terrified to say anything.  If anyone found out, I’m sure I’d be off the baseball team.  They say that doesn’t happen, but…”

He was talking a mile a minute.  I smiled at him.

“I kept hoping it was you.  Fuck yeah, this is great.  Shit, Jacob.  I’ve been so alone, and so terrified anyone would find out.”  He started to tear up.  “Oh, fuck.  I can’t cry.”

Just then, the coach called him.

“Tell him you got some sand in your eye.  Can you meet me here after practice?”

“Sure.  I’ll give you a ride home.  Want to watch my bag for me?”  He tossed it over the fence.

I grabbed the bag and kept it between my feet.  I could hardly sit still during the practice session.  When David would come up to bat, he kept hitting homers.  I texted my mother, “Getting a ride home after practice.  What time is dinner?”

She texted back almost immediately, “Did you forget?  Meeting with the Elders tonight, won’t be home until 9.  Get yourself something to eat.”

“No problem,” I texted back.

I had a difficult time concentrating on what was going on with practice.  I kept watching David.  Some of the guys on the football team came and sat with me.  “Hooser’s looking pretty good today,” one of them said.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “but last time I watched practice, he sucked.  He’s too inconsistent.”

“Baseball scout, huh, Moore,” said Tommy Bruce. “You’re an expert.  Fuck him, Keller.  He’s a faggot oboe player anyway.  I’m going home.”

After Tommy Bruce left, Steve Keller spoke up.  “Is that true, Moore, are you a faggot?  Will you suck my dick for ten dollars?  Or would it take twenty ‘cause you’re a high priced faggot?”

I turned around and looked at him.  He wasn’t bad looking, but he was a real asshole.  “No, but I tell you what I’d do for free.”  I liked my lips.  “I’d fuck your ass with a butcher knife, and I’d fuck you real deep.”

“You’re crazy.”  Keller got up and left, but not before hollering, “You’re crazy,” two more times.

About five minutes later, David came up.  “I fucking stink.  I really need to rinse off and change back into my regular clothes.”

“I can wait.  Or you can do it at my place.”

David quickly looked me in the eyes.

“My parents are at a meeting until nine.”

I had to remind David twice not to speed.  We hurried back to my room, which was at the back of the house.  It had been the old porch.  My father had closed it in when I was born.  At one end, a garden hose went from a spigot on the wall to a clamp about five feet from the floor, and an old cow trough stood under it.  A mattress on the floor was on the opposite end, and an old pipe served as a place to hang my clothes.

“Is that your shower?”

“Yeah, shower first or after?”  I nuzzled up to him.  He looked down and kissed me, and I kissed back.  I felt loved for the first time in my life.

“I’m sorry,” said David, “I smell really bad; how can you stand it?”

“Because I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“We should shower before and after.”  He looked at the hose.  “There’s no hot water?”

“No.  It’s really not so bad.  January and February are when it’s awful.”

“Oh, my sweet Jacob,” he said and kissed me again.  “Let’s do it.”  He stripped his clothes almost instantly.  

I was mesmerized.  I’d seen glimpses of him in the showers at school, but here he was, completely naked, and I could gaze as long as I wanted.

“Hurry up then.”

I stripped and went to the tub.  “First, trickle the water a little, so you can get suds up.”  I demonstrated, and he followed my lead.  “Then turn it on a little more and rinse off.”

“Fucking hell, that’s cold.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  How do you stand it?”

“Don’t forget to rinse your crack and your peter.  They’ll itch if you don’t.”

“Oh, damn it all to hell.  That’s not civilized.”  I got out and gave him a towel. 

“Put it up here to dry.  I only get two per week.”  I dried off and then ran to the bed.  I was already shivering when I jumped between the covers.

David got in next to me.  “Fuck, I’m so cold that my balls and dick have shrunk into nothing.”

“Want me to warm them up?”  I smiled at him.

He looked at me again in a way that no one ever had.  “You’re so beautiful.  I can’t believe that this is happening.”  He reached down and grabbed my penis.  His touch made it expand to full size almost immediately.  “Shit, Jacob, you got hard really fast.”

“That happens every time I think about you.”

“Get between my legs.”

“OK.”

“Now put your dick against my hole.  Put some spit on it.”  David smeared spit against his hole, and I put spit on my penis.  “Now push it inside me.”

As my dick went inside his ass, I felt the most incredible sensation.  No one had to tell me to push in and pull out.  It came automatically.  I was fucking him.  His grunts of “Fuck, yeah” each time I pushed in told me that he liked it as much as I did.  It didn’t take long for me to come, and my did was still in him when I did.

“We’re going to have to shower again,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s the only downside to this.  I could let you fuck me like that all night long.  We need to get some lube to make it easier than the spit.  And if we use a rubber, I won’t leak sperm out of my butt, but I’ve heard it doesn’t feel as good.  Plus, it’s not like I’ll get pregnant.”

I giggled at that.

“Let’s shower again.  We need to shower with hot water so we can take our time.  I’ll try to figure out how.”

We showered, David changed into his street clothes, as he called them, and we spent time kissing and rubbing our crotches.  As David was leaving, he told me, “If anyone asks, we were reviewing for this week's chemistry test.”

“OK.”  I nodded.

“We’ve got to figure out a way to be together more.  Do you have a summer job lined up?”

“No.  My parents are trying to decide whether to send me to this bible camp.”

“Are you opposed to working on a farm?” David inquired.

“Never done it.  I don’t suppose I’m against it.”

“My grandparents often need help on their farm.  If we could both work there, we’d have evenings together.  All summer long.”

“I’d shovel cow shit for that.”

“You might have to,” he laughed.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“OK.”

“One more thing, Jacob Moore.”  He walked back up to me and kissed me with his tongue.  “I’m in love with you, and I’m pretty sure I want to marry you.  Think about that.”

David Hoose walked away and got in his car.  The memory of his kiss remained on my lips.  He drove away and waved before his car disappeared around the corner.  He wanted to marry me.  What a difference a day makes.