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I sit here at my desk, my chin in my palms and bored so badly, I think I might die. I yawn loudly, not just to show how un-entertaining this lesson is, but also because I am tired as hell. I get the evil eye from Mrs Milan but she doesn't say anything about how 'rude' I'm being, because she likes me. This is mainly because she is a teacher straight out of uni and all the other lads in my year think she's hot. I think I'm one of the only ones who hasn't tired to make a pass at her. I suppose I better tell you a little about myself, before I carry on. My name is Tyler Green and I am 16 years old. I graduate from high school next month and then I'm off to college. I have sandy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a fairly pale complexion, that only really tans when I come back from holidays to Spain. I am tall, taller than most lads in my year and have got quite a bit of muscle. Lots of girls have told me I'm attractive, so I can't be that bad looking. Oh, and I'm also 100% gay... My eyes begin to flicker around the room to see if anyone else is as bored, confused and generally pissed off as me. They don't, but what I do see is much more interesting. Michael Wilson is staring at me! No, no be real with yourself Tyler, he is probably looking at the pretty blond girl behind you. You know, the one that tried to come on to you, while drunk, isvecbahis at last year's Christmas party, before you had to carefully explain that you were the 'gay one' of the class. But I don't think he is. Because the moment I catch him staring at me, he lowers his gaze and goes red. Oh My God! I made Michael Wilson, one of the most popular lads in my whole school go red. Just by catching him staring at me. Michael Wilson! He is one of those people who has tons of friends, and is so popular he doesn't even know how lucky he is. He is kind of attractive. Okay, VERY attractive, with dark curly hair, lots of strong muscle and a very, very nice face. He is just a bit shorter than me. We have spoken a few times, and he has always been pretty nice to me, it's just I don't know him enough to call him a friend. I wouldn't mind getting to know him though, with a sexy bum like that! I wonder how he looks with no shirt on... Just as I'm walking out of the class room, Michael casually walks up to me, his rucksack slung over his shoulder with the sun glistening of his hair through the open window. He looks as sexy as hell, I can feel my dick stiffening. Oh My God, what am I doing? He is straight. Straight, straight, straight. I just about manage to gather myself together, when he is standing right in front of me. ''Tyron, right?'' isveçbahis giriş He asks smiling a bright smile. "Tyler," I correct him. ''We've been assigned partners for this project, and you can't even remember my name?'' I add stupidly. I want to hit myself. But he just laughs. Laughs? ''Sorry, got a lot on my plate right now.'' Mhmm, I bet you do. "Whatever. Meet me here after school," and I walk off. ?.........................."So after my dad died, me and my mom moved over here. I like it here, its nearly always sunny. Besides there's no constant reminders of Dad here.'' I said as I stuck some more sequins onto the frame of the cardboard. Michael is just sat there listening. Over the past hour I found out he is a good listener, as he doesn't really have any stories of his own to tell. He has just breezed through life, no worries or troubles, like one of those unlucky people where nothing ever goes wrong for him. He's got loving rich parents and loads of friends and a group of girls who adore him. "Do you miss him?" he asks, looking disapprovingly at the sequins, but not saying anything. ''Of course. He's my Dad! When you lose one, you can't go down the corner shop to by a new one. Its gone for good,'' I mumble. I don't even know why I'm telling him this. He's just really easy to talk too, I can't help myself. Its like isveçbahis yeni giriş he's sucking the information out of my head, the words out of my mouth. "I'm sorry," he whispers. And then, he does the strangest thing. He reaches out, very hesitantly and softly strokes my cheek. His fingers are trembling, like he's nervous. I stop breathing completely because none of this can be happening. Michael Wilson wouldn't stroke some gay boys cheek. Not in a million years. His trembling fingers then skim over my nose and onto my opposite cheek. I close my eyes, because at a time like this it seems the right thing to do, but really I want to keep them open. I want to see what his face says, whether he is being serious or not. And just as I'm about to pull away, and laugh it of I feel his lips gently touch mine. There trembling just like his fingers where, but there soft, gentle and well? loving. I open my eyes, but see his are closed. He looks like he is frowning or pulling a confused face. I feel his hands and arms snake around my neck, pulling my face even closer to his, just as he parts his lips and deepens the kiss. I feel his tongue slowly licking my bottom lip, as though to ask for permission to enter my mouth. I open it as wide as Michael's lips will let me and feel his tongue slowly enter my mouth. I meet it with my own tongue at half way causing our tongues to twirl and dance together. I feel as though my mouth is on fire! My breathing deepens as his hands begin to wander, stroking up and down my back causing goose bumps to raise all along my spine.