“That was, oh wow!” I said, my voice tempered by exhaustion and more emotion that I’d ever experienced before. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my life. I can’t even describe it.”
“Me neither. I can’t believe how that felt.” Brad breathed softly. “You know, I was worrying and scared, but after that, well, I just loved it and want to do it again with you and I’m not worried now. Why should I worry? This just feels too good. I loved it.”
“Me too, Brad” I gushed. “That was the best thing I ever did.” I sighed. “I guess we have to keep quiet about it, not let people know, but, hey, I feel so great, Brad. It’s because it was with you.”
Brad grinned his wicked grin at me and pushed me back onto the bed.
Then he got on top of me and started kissing me. No one can kiss like Brad can. As soon as he started kissing me, even after what we’d done only a few minutes ago, I was grew as hard as I’d ever been. He did too, and I could feel him pressed between us against my stomach. It felt so good. So did the kissing. Kissing has to be the fastest way to get excited there is.
We hadn’t done any experimenting with other boys before, neither one of us. We began making up for what we’d missed. We learned and practiced a lot of different ways to kiss that night, and how the skin all over our bodies felt when being stroked and rubbed and caressed and even licked. I learned his toes were very ticklish and the bottoms of his feet even more so. I learned how he reacted when I gently moved my fingers up his legs and over his inner thighs. I saw how he responded when I held his erection while stroking other parts of his body, sometimes firmly, sometimes so lightly there was almost no pressure at all. I learned a lot about how my body reacted to this sort of thing, and that sort of thing, too, and learned a lot of things you can only learn if someone else is teaching you or doing them with you. Someone you really care about.
We both had another orgasm that night but never got beyond stroking each other or rubbing against each other. I certainly thought of it, he probably did too, but neither one of us said anything about it. I think we both were too excited about what we were doing and both realized this was our first night together. What we were doing was all new to us and felt so right, so good, there was no reason to try to go further than where we already were. We wanted to fully enjoy just what we were doing. This was all overwhelming! It was perfect, and if sometime soon I discovered it was perhaps somewhat innocent, that there were other things that felt great too, for now what we were doing was much more than enough.
> > > < < <
We finally fell asleep late that night, and being 13, slept till after noon. After waking up and seeing the time, and incredibly, feeling horny, I watched Brad, the terribly cute, sleeping Brad, for a few moments, then reached down and very gently began squeezing him where it feels good. After a few minutes, when he’d been hard awhile, he sleepily said, “Uhhhh.
”Uhhh as in, ‘Uhhh, what the fuck are you doing, pervert?’ or ‘Uhhh,’ as in, ‘don’t stop?’“ I asked, pausing in my groping.
”Hey, who said anything about stopping?”
”Oh, that’s what I thought you meant” I said, grinning.
Twenty minutes later he was in the bathroom showering. We thought it would look better if we didn’t do that together, though I really wanted to. So he went first and I followed quickly afterwards. I dressed in clothes I’d brought from home.
After breakfast, we decided it would both look good and be wise to go over our math, the supposed objective of our night together. We sat at the kitchen table and worked. I was impressed; Brad had remembered everything we’d worked on, and seemed to know the stuff as well as I did.
“You know, Brad, I’m wondering how Mrs. Graedon is going to react when you get an A on this summary test after getting D’s on all the work leading up to it? What’s she going to think?”
Brad thought a moment. “You’ve got a point,” he replied. “Teachers are supposed to be happy when someone learns the material, but she seems to get down on people if they don’t get it right off, and then never looks at them in a good way again, even if they improve. She thinks there are smart people and dumb people and they never change.
“My improving is going to upset that theory, and she might not like that. I don’t know how she’ll react either.”
I considered this, and the fact she was looking at us funny the other day, and that she’d had very sarcastic words for Brad the day she sent him to detention. It seemed to me she actively disliked him, maybe not as much as she did me, but there was no question she didn’t like him. How would she respond to him when he suddenly showed such improvement? Would she think he cheated? Would she try to do anything about that?
“Brad, this might be something for us to think about a little. Remember how she’s treated me all year for just pointing out a simple mistake she made? Pointing it out respectfully, too. She can be vindictive. And she has more reason not to like you than just you disproving her feelings about no one improving in math. She has been watching us and I think she realizes now we’re friends. She hates me. Really. And so, if she can get at you, she might do so knowing it would be another sneaky way to get at me.”
“So what should we do?”
I thought a minute, mulling over an idea that had been brewing in my mind. “Well,” I said eventually, “I can think of one thing. I think we should show your father how well you know this stuff. I think we should talk to my father. He’s aware of the problems I’ve had with her, not all of them, but he knows there’s a problem. If we discuss what we’re thinking before there’s any trouble, at least people will be more open to hearing our side of the story afterwards. They might believe us a little more.”
Brad thought about that, and then agreed with me. “But how can I show my father I know this stuff?” he wondered out loud.
“Is he still home?” I asked. We went downstairs and found him cleaning the basement. When he had finished sweeping a section of the floor behind the furnace, I approached him. “Mr. Decker,” I said, “can we speak with you a moment?”
“Sure, Danny. What’s up?”
“Well, this will probably sound crazy, but we’re worried that if Brad does really well on Monday’s test, Mrs. Graedon might think, or even claim, he cheated. I know kids always think their teachers are out to get them, but she’s, she’s . . . well, you have to see her to realize how she is. Brad really knows this stuff now, and we’d like to show you so you know he’s learned it. We don’t want there to be any question, at least not in your mind.”
“Sure, that sounds fine. I know Brad wouldn’t cheat,” he said, smiling at Brad in a way that made Brad blush, “but I can see what you’re trying to do. How do you want to do this?”
“I thought the best way would be for you to test him yourself. There are review questions at the end of every chapter in our book. There are also special questions that make us use what we’ve learned creatively to solve word problems. I thought you could pick out a question or two from every chapter and watch him do them in front of you.”
Brad’s father readily agreed with this and we went up to the kitchen. Brad walked over to the breakfast table, I handed Brad’s father the book, and we all sat down.
Even I was surprised at how well it went. After Brad quickly did a few problems from early in the book, his father began picking the more difficult looking ones in later chapters. Brad did these just as quickly and easily, and didn’t miss any. His father looked very surprised at the end. “You really do know this! How have you learned it so fast when you didn’t get it at all before?” he asked.
Before Brad could try to give me all the credit again, which I could see he was about to do, I jumped in. “He really applied himself. He worked hard. He’s smart. Once he began working hard on it, it just came to him. He just got it.”
Brad’s father looked somewhat skeptical that that was a complete answer, but was so happy with Brad, he didn’t question it. “I don’t think you’ll have any problems tomorrow,” he told Brad, “but I’m glad we did this anyway. And Danny, as much as you’re giving Brad all the credit, I think a lot of this is due to what you’ve done. Thanks for that, and if you need help with anything, please feel you can come to me.”
I squirmed, but he just laughed, put his hand on my head for a second, then said he wanted to get back to the basement.
Brad smiled at me. “Danny, this was great. I’m really looking forward to showing that bitch up tomorrow. This is going to be great.”
I hoped it would be. Still, I knew Mrs. Graedon. I was worried.
> > > < < <
When I got home that night, my dad asked how things had gone. I told him we’d had a great time, and that I’d taken his advice and not been afraid to get to know Brad better.
“And how was it? You’re still friends?” he asked.
“We’re even closer than we were. I don’t want to say much, it’s embarrassing, but we slept in bed together, and I found out he likes me as much as I like him, and I couldn’t be happier.”
“Oh, Danny, I’m so pleased for you. You know you have to be careful, but I don’t need to tell you that. Come here.”
I walked over to him and he reached up. We hugged each other tightly for a while. Then, breaking my grip, I told him I had something else to talk to him about. I sat down, and we spoke for some time about Mrs. Graedon. It feels good, having someone you can talk to who listens and believes you and is supportive. I told him that I was afraid Mrs. Graedon would accuse us both of cheating. He took me seriously, and asked what I thought I could do about it. I wasn’t sure, and we kicked around some ideas. He came up with a couple of things, and even gave me some advice, and I paid attention to him. We talked for quite a while. He’s smart.