Nude Trend at School 04

Everyone is 18.

Chapter 4: Best Day

Connor didn't need to go to his school until later, so I thought I could slip in Max's offer without Connor even noticing, if he just stayed upstairs. Thank god we go to different schools, I thought to myself.

When I got downstairs, Max was waiting in my kitchen, completely nude, true to our new trend. "Your parents left already."

Thirty seconds later, the kitchen floor tiles were biting into my knees as Max’s hands twisted in my hair. His cock, jammed halfway down my throat, pulsed as Connor’s bedroom door slammed upstairs. Fuck, he’s coming down early. Max’s thighs tensed—a sprinter’s muscles flexing as he shoved deeper. I gagged, spit dribbling down his balls. His grin sharpened. “Suck faster, yeah? Clock’s ticking.”

Morning light bled through the kitchen blinds, striping Max’s abs as they tightened. My hands wandered up his quads, memorizing the sweat-slick grooves I’d seen in a million locker rooms but never thought would be in my face like this. Musky and salty— that describes Max when he used me. His pre-cum flooded my tongue as Connor’s footsteps descended the stairs.

“He’s gonna see you like this,” Max huffed, grinding my nose into his trimmed pubes. “Slobbering on your buddy's dick before class.” The thrill burned hotter than shame. My own cock dripped onto the floor, swaying with every throat-spasm. The footsteps approached. Max yanked out, leaving me coughing as Connor froze in the kitchen entryway.

His face reddened, eyes ballooning. Then he smirked. Didn’t know he could look so… feral. Six-pack flexing under his ratty tee, he unbuckled his jeans. “Guess we’re doing this together now.” His cock sprang free—thicker than Max’s, veiny and pink. My lips twitched, tongue reflexively darting out.

“You’re filthy.” Connor gripped my hair, not gently. "Guess you didn't get enough earlier."

His balls slapped my chin as he crammed himself in. Max lounged against the fridge, lazily jerking his half-hard dick. “Atta boy, Con. Show the bro how it’s done.”

Connor’s thrusts were frantic, hips stuttering. Peach fuzz above his lip quivered. “Should’ve—fuck—known you’d turn into a total cocksleeve.” The insult charred my ears but my throat convulsed, sucking harder. His sneakers squeaked on tile. Then a grunt, a flood of bitter warmth—he pulled back, painting my cheeks, forehead, the tip of my nose. “Clean it,” he ordered, shoving two sticky fingers past my teeth.

–[]–

The bus ride to school reeked of Connor’s and Max's cum dripping down my neck. My thighs stayed splayed shamelessly across the seat. Old Mrs. Hendricks from three streets over gawked through the window at me and the other recently converted male nudist students. I waved. Let her look. Let them all see how a real man wears his skin now.

I was sitting in Mr. Thompson’s classroom, trying to tame my erection as I chatted with some other naked guys before class. What I noticed that day was that we all had different amounts of pubic hair, whether by choice or lack of growth.

Suddenly the door swung open. My jaw dropped. There stood Mr. Thompson, the sexy teacher, naked as us, one hand casually cupping his soft cock. Thick chest hair swirled down to a trimmed thatch. “Morning class,” he said plainly, but his pupils dilated as my gaze raked him.

Athlete’s body. Thighs like tree trunks. What’s he packing under—holy shit. His cock thickened under my stare, rising inch by monstrous inch. Max’s breath hitched beside me. I didn’t dare touch myself, but precum beaded on my tip anyway.

After an excruciating class where I heard nothing from the lecture, the bell rang. Max and I shared a look. We lingered in the classroom when the others had gone. We both conveniently had some questions for Mr. Thompson. Max traced equations on the whiteboard, ass flexing as he reached higher.

"That's good," said the teacher in a sultry voice, "but you made a careless error here on the left side of the equation." He leaned up onto the whiteboard, hip to hip with Max. I watched the two muscular asses in front of me, their cocks rubbing against the whiteboard as they wrote in parallel, and my mind went blank. After everything that had happened, this was still too much for me.

–[]–

Max turned to me and leaned against the desk, casually flipping through the textbook as if we were actually discussing the material. "So, uh, the quadratic formula—" he started, but his voice hitched as Mr. Thompson leaned over him from behind, resting his large, hard cock on Max's back, his sweaty balls pressing firmly into his ass.

Our fearless teacher had me get up to the whiteboard, encouraging me to show Max how to solve the quadratic equation we were looking at. When Max approached me, he wordlessly poked his hard dick at my ass, making me start to sweat. I was having trouble even focusing on this simple problem.

Mr. Thompson cleared his throat, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small bottle of lube. He tossed it to Max without a word, his own cock blatantly standing in the air, throbbing like a heartbeat.

Max caught the lube and grinned, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers. Before I could protest—not that I wanted to—Mr. Thompson’s hands were on my shoulders, gently moving me until I was bent over the desk. My heart raced, my cock twitching against the cool wood. Max didn’t waste time; his lubed fingers pressed against my hole, circling teasingly before pushing in. "Relax," he murmured, though his voice was anything but calm. His cock followed soon after, stretching me open in a way that made my vision blur.

Mr. Thompson stepped closer, his thick, heavy cock brushing against my lips. I looked at the cock head in my face. Servicing a teacher was a cognitive shock to me, the blurring of authority lines, the establishment of the fact that I wasn't a kid anymore. Open, his dick commanded me telepathically, and I obeyed the suggestion without hesitation. As Max’s thrusts grew harder, faster, I focused on swallowing Mr. Thompson’s length, my throat working around him. The classroom filled with the sounds of our ragged breathing and the slick slap of sweaty skin against skin.

Students outside in the quad clustered at the window, hooting. Max’s balls slapped my taint. Thompson’s girth choked my throat. Their groans tangled, a perverse harmony. Straight guys don’t do this. Straight guys don’t—fuck, DON’T STOP— My mind went blank as Max’s cock head found my prostate. Thompson yanked my hair back, watching his cock glisten with my spit.

The first hot spurt hit my tongue. Mr. Thompson, the young, muscley teacher that every girl had a crush on, was jizzing into my open mouth, right here in the classroom. And people were watching from outside. Max growled, slamming hilt-deep. “Gonna breed you right here, yeah? Let ’em all see.” He collapsed over me, sweaty pecs mashing my back. Thompson’s cum oozed down my chin.

Max pulled out abruptly, his cock glistening with lube and his arousal. He grabbed the back of my head, pulling me off of Mr. Thompson and shoving his length into my mouth. The taste of myself on him was intoxicating, and I gagged as he fucked my throat. At the same time, Mr. Thompson’s cock pushed into me from behind, his larger cock stretching me to a new level. They pushed me back and forth with their strong hands like I was just a male ragdoll made to pleasure their cocks. I came untouched from all the movement, my own release splattering against the desk and floor while they both worked furiously until they flooded my holes with their own seed.

They pulled out, and I collapsed onto the desk.

Fingers—someone’s—dug into my spent hole, stretching it wide for the crowd, which had grown substantially since we started. The guys up in the front were a few guys from the football team, at least one of them recording everything on his phone. Max slumped in the chair in front of my desk, legs spread. “Clean my sweaty taint, bro.” His hole winked, still glistening from the sweat of the vigorous fuck. This isn’t me. I’m not—

I buried my face. Salty. Musky. Addicting. His moan rattled the windows. Thompson’s cock stirred against my hip again. It felt like hours that I stayed like that, eating his ass, getting my tongue as deep as I could, soaking up every bit of musk as my cock strained in the air. Mr. Thompson decided to enjoy the show while casually playing with my hole. It was late afternoon before I finally stumbled out of Mr. Thompson's classroom, Max dragging me by the arm and making sure I could stand.

He leaned me up against a locker. "You're a rockstar, man."

Max grabbed my hand, tugging me out of the locker bay and into the sun-drenched streets, my backpack the only thing covering any part of me. 

“Let’s show the town how real men live,” he said, his cock swinging proudly with every step. 

My heart pounded as we strolled past Mrs. Hendricks’ house. Her curtains twitched, and I could practically hear her gasp. 

“Keep your head high, bro,” Max grinned, slapping my ass. A few blocks later, an old man watering his lawn almost dropped his hose, his jaw hanging open. “Damn kids!” he shouted like some old nineties movie, but Max just laughed, flipping him off.

—[]—

We ended up at Greg’s house, where the smell of dinner wafted through the open windows. Greg answered the door, naked as the day he was born, his parents’ hushed protests echoing from the kitchen. Greg had an athletic body, and a broad jawline. His pale skin contrasted with his black bush of pubes, probably the thickest in our grade. He never had any filters, so he easily jumped on the nude train when guys at school started doing it.

“Yo, welcome to the club,” he said, high-fiving Max. His mom peeked out, her face beet red, before quickly retreating. Greg just shrugged. “They’ll get used to it.”

We spent hours in Greg’s room, controllers in hand, laughing and trash-talking as we gamed. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and musk, our bare legs brushing against each other every time we shifted on the floor. 

“Fuck, I’m hard again,” Max groaned during a cutscene that featured a sexualized female character. Greg didn’t miss a beat, tossing the controller aside. “Break time.”

Max leaned back against the bed, his cock standing at attention. To my surprise, Greg knelt in front of him, his hand already working my cock as he leaned in to suck Max off. I couldn’t resist—if he was down for it, then I was as well––I crawled behind Greg, my tongue tracing the sweat between his ass cheeks. Max groaned, his hips jerking as Greg swallowed him whole. “Your turn, I don’t wanna cum yet” Max gasped, pulling Greg off him and shoving him toward me.

Greg’s cock was thick and heavy on my tongue, his taste flooding my senses. Max moved behind me, his fingers teasing my hole. 

“Open up, bro,” he growled, pushing in. The stretch was intense after the poundings I had already taken that day, but I focused on Greg’s cock, sucking harder as Max pounded me. It didn’t take long—Greg’s cum shot into my mouth, hot and salty. Max pulled out, flipping me onto my back and spilling his load across my face.

Greg collapsed beside me, laughing. “That’s how you game, bro.” His parents’ grumblings could still be heard after we stopped all the noise we were making in our horniness, but we were too blissed out to care. Still, it was time to go. Max walked me home. It was a warm night, so the nudity didn’t hurt. I was sweaty and disgusting from the day. Max had his arm around me most of the time, his tall, pale body making his black, floofy hair stand out in the moonlight. It had been a perfect day, and I had never felt so free.