A letter from Benjamin Banneker High School came in the mail this morning. It read:







School starts in just a week and I wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, bring me down. I'm not going to lie, I was a little fucked up when I found out that Matt and Jason were lovers and I was just the sidepiece of ass. However, I know I couldn't expect a full out relationship with Matt. I just wanted him to be straight up with me. Maybe it was a good thing for me to find out sooner than later. I didn't need the drama entering into my junior year of high school. That was behind me now, and all of my attention was focused on this new school year. I had so many questions like, what was it going to be like? Will I make friends this year? Will I like my teachers? Will I fit in? Will people find out that I like boys? But the most important question for now was what am I going to wear during the first week of school?

Between my mom and dad, I was given five hundred dollars to spend for back to school gear. You would have thought that they gave me five thousand dollars by the fuss they made. Five hundred dollars may sound like a lot of money, but it really can't buy you much these days. That is especially true if you like to wear nice clothes. Since my parents had to work, I took the metro. Believe it or not, this was my first time taking the metro by myself. My parents did not want me on the train, so they practically drove me everywhere. I walked to the nearest metro train station, Shaw-Howard University, and waited on the platform for the green line. I was like a kid in the candy store on that platform. I saw so many fine men, some around my age and some around dad and Unc's age. I tried not to stare too hard, but I couldn't help but to stare at this one particular dude. He looked like he could be anywhere between age seventeen to age nineteen. He was about five feet ten inches, weighed one hundred sixty pounds, had low cut hair, and was very attractive. I would take a glance and then look away, catching his eye every now and then. He started to walk in my direction and I was nervous, but excited because this dude is hot. "Why the fuck do you keep looking at me. I am not with that faggot shit," he yelled. Everyone on the platform turned around to look at the commotion. I have never been more embarrassed in my entire life. Without saying a word, I just ran out of the station and went back home. I was too humiliated and too hurt to even do my favorite thing in the world--shop. I crawled in bed and cried until I eventually fell asleep.

Mom and dad didn't even notice that I didn't go school shopping yesterday. I guess they saw I was sleeping when they came home from work and didn't want to wake me. I was still a little shaken up by what happened on the train platform, but I was not going to let that keep me down. Today was a new day, and I was going to get back up and get on that horse again. About an hour after my parents left for work, I got fully dressed and headed back to the same metro station where I had been humiliated not even 24 hours before. Once again, when I got down in the Shaw-Howard University metro station, I saw some of the finest dudes that I've ever seen in life. I made it a point not to stare this time. Doesn't mean that I didn't take a glance every now and then; I just didn't make it obvious that I fancied them. According to the digital alert system, the green line train would arrive at the platform in just two minutes. "I can do this. I can do this," I kept saying to myself. This was a little motivational thing that I always practiced whenever I was feeling a little nervous or scared. My nerves were starting to kick in just a little bit. I felt like all of the guys were looking at me and could tell that I was attracted to them. I just kept repeating my mantra and before I knew it the train had arrived. A sense of relief came over me.

When the train doors opened, it looked like a heard of cows moving swiftly into the train car. I managed to get a seat towards the back of the train. I was sandwiched between two large women who were both reading novels, but I had a seat nonetheless. My nervousness had actually turned to pure excitement, as I was about to embark upon a shopping spree. We finally reached Gallery Place/Chinatown station and I headed straight for Urban Outfitters. Urban Outfitters was one of my favorite stores, so that was my first stop when I got off the train. Upon entering the store, I was greeted by a really attractive young brown skin girl, who had a smile that could light up the room. I made my way downstairs to the men's section of the store and let my creative juices flow. What was I going to pair together and what trend was I going to follow or set? I walked around every square inch of that section, picking up items here and there. Picked up a few pair of skinny jeans, some tank tops, V-neck shirts, button-down shirts, and some khaki pants. I went to the fitting room area and waited in line to try on the clothing. When I got to the front of the line there was one male and one female employee directing people to fitting rooms and folding clothes in between. They both look like older high school students, who obviously had mad style. The female employee showed me to my room and told me to call if I needed any help. After each outfit I tried on, I would call her over so that she could give her opinion. She liked everything I had tried on so far, which meant alot coming from her. When I asked her what she though about my last outfit, she called the male employee over and asked him to give his opinion. "That outfit is mad tight. I have the same one. Great minds think alike I see. But my ass is not as phat as yours, so my jeans don't fill out in the back like yours does," he said with a straight face. I looked at his nametag and called him by his first name. "Clarence. You are crazy. I cannot believe you just said that," I said. He looked at me and laughed. "What, I do have that same outfit," he joked. We laughed it up for a bit and then I went back into the fitting room. I changed back into my original clothes and headed out to the cash register to purchase my stuff. I needed to get back home, so I didn't even think about going to another store.

I hopped on the train at the Gallery Place/Chinatown station. There were considerably less people on the train during my ride back home. There may have been eight or nine people in my train car. This morning, there must have been over a hundred. I found a spot near the back of the train car and was able to spread out with all my bags. About three stops in, a handful of people boarded the train and made their way to an empty seat. One guy in particular headed in my direction and sat in the seat across from mine. I felt like I was in that commercial where a guy is on a beach on a huge island by himself, and then someone comes out of nowhere and pitches an umbrella directly beside him. The guy appeared to be in his late forties. His hair was short with specs of gray, and his goatee was similar. He wasn't the most attractive person I've ever seen, but he wasn't the most unattractive. I would say that he was average in the looks department. He had on a pair of loose gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt, which showed all of his flaws. This man wasn't really well defined. His body type just reminded you of older men who let themselves go after a while. I held on tight to my bags just in case he was plotting to snatch my bags and run. I had about two more stops to go before I reached my final station destination. I glanced out of the window on the train and could not believe what I saw in the reflection. Was this guy really rubbing his dick through his sweatpants? I didn't even bother to turn and look until I saw him unleash the prettiest dick I've ever seen. I turned from looking at the reflection on the window, to facing this stranger. His hand glided up and down a sheer piece of heavenly art. I did not think that this man was attractive in the least, but his dick was hypnotizing. I watched him as he stroked, constantly checking to make sure none of the other people in the train car could tell what was happening. He motioned for me to come over. I was really nervous and told him that I couldn't. He put his dick back into his sweatpants and stopped the show. I couldn't let him stop until I saw that dick spit, so I gathered all of the bags in one hand and moved over into the seat beside him. To my delight, the stranger pulled his massive ten inch pole back out and jerked once again. I spit in the palm of my hand and stroked him with all I had. I knew that I only had a couple stops left, and I be damned if I was going to miss that nut. I would just miss my stop if I had to. I must have been stroking it the way he liked because in a few short minutes, nut spewed all over his shirt and up my arm. It was definitely a sight to see. He used his shirt to clean me off, and then I moved back over to my original seat and waited for my stop. I sure am glad that I overcame my little incident from yesterday and decided to give the train a go again today!




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