I was fighting all that when I showed up at the beginning of my senior year in Pat Johnson's English class.I was seventeen, abused. Pat was a great te...cher. Something about her though, made her seem approachable, so I approached. English questions, naturally. How do you get a foot in the door as a writer? She took me to some readings at the university. After about a month and a half of hanging out, things progressed. One of us kissed the other one. I honestly don't remember who initiated. Maybe. We talk about our lives, our likes and dislikes, our hopes and dreams. He's rather interesting, and I actually look at him a little more thanI had in the past. I mean, we competed against one another years ago,and just worked out together in a gym, but I never really looked at himuntil now (when I visited him at the facility, he was still recoveringso I only saw him as a patient). I can see spending more time withhim, regardless of where it might lead. He's a little taller than Iam, but. Kris said, “Hey bro, do you mind if I use the shower in your room, I don’t really have one.”“No problem mate” I replied. We got back to my room and I said “You can shower first.” Kris started undressing in the lounge while I turned on the TV, as he took of his underwear I noticed what a good looking guy he was, he had short black hair, nice blue eyes and an amazing smile. His body was in peak physical condition and his abs and pecs were rock hard from the intense cardio work he had been. Why the hell am I still playing along?Let's just tell myself if I don't she'll tell her parents I raped her..."Alrighty then!" I gladly say as I walk with her into there, now half limp.We wash off, and she begins to wash out her pussy. I already cleaned my body but the sight of this was extraordinary. I got hard again and she smiled. "Good. Looks like I actually can keep you warm, brother." She got on her knees and then began to pull on my penis, thus definitely assuring the term "cock" as she.