Expanding Horizons

Brad Daniels wanted to be a regular boy. That's it plain and simple. He wanted to be just like the other boys at school. It was never meant to be, however. That fact began to become clear to him about the time he turned thirteen years old.

It was at that time that Brad began having what his health and science teacher at school referred to as nocturnal emissions. Mrs. Hopewell told the boys in the class that it was something very common and that it didn't mean that they were naughty or bad. Mom and Dad had different opinions of course.

Brad's father was a very strict religious man. He was in fact the pastor of a small church. That was the main reason that Brad could never be a normal guy. He was always under the pressure of being the preacher's son. His behavior, in fact everything about him had to be beyond reproach, or else.

That's why Brad's dreams upset him so much. The teacher had said that the boys would dream about girls and doing things with them. She said that in and of themselves, the dreams weren't bad, but that the boys shouldn't dwell on those thoughts. Obsessing over them would be unhealthy and could lead to the boys having a distorted view of what was appropriate behavior around girls. She also said that the dreams were the body's way of letting the boy know that he was growing up, as well as a means for preparing the boys for the eventual day that they would meet a girl and fall in love with her. The trouble was, Brad wasn't dreaming of girls. The sexual images he saw in his dreams involved other boys.

Brad was a boy. He couldn't love another guy. That was evil and sinful. Dad had preached about that a few Sundays ago. Brad got in enough trouble with his parents; he didn't need to do anything like that. He vowed never to fall in love with a guy. He studied his Bible as he never had before, but he couldn't get rid of his dreams. There were other things going on that were disturbing to Brad as well.

One of the first problems to arise was that Dad announced that they were going to move. They had lived where they were for five years. That was a new record. Dad had never stayed at one church that long before.

Brad had to leave his friends, his school, everything. He was used to moving, but this time he had finally had the chance to really make friends. For the first time, he was angry at his father for upsetting his life.

Of course, Dad didn't understand at all. He explained that it wasn't their choice. God had called him to a new place of ministry. Brad began to doubt God's role in the decision after talking to one of the girls from the church.

"I just can't believe you are leaving, Brad," Jessica whined. Brad had never liked her because she always seemed to be whining about something. Her voice literally grated on his nerves to the point that he got headaches if he was around her for too long. "I was hoping that we could go to the young people's Easter picnic together." Jessica looked around cautiously, and then added, "You could kiss me goodbye, if you want."

Brad would rather kiss Jessica's dog, but she was offering and he really wanted to know what it felt like to actually kiss someone for real. He knew how it felt in his dreams to kiss a boy, but he had to forget all that. He couldn't think about how he felt in the dreams when he did sexual things with boys. He had to start liking girls whether he really wanted to or not.

Brad leaned forward and touched his lips to Jessica's. He expected the same rush of emotions, the same electrical surge that he always felt in his dreams. It wasn't there. Brad felt nothing at all. It was as if he were kissing his mother.

Jessica pushed at Brad's lips with her tongue. The boy pulled away in disgust, wiping his mouth. Jessica glared at him coldly.

"Well, if that's the way you feel, maybe you should move," she snapped. "I'll bet my dad was right. Your father is just leaving because the new church is paying more." She stormed off leaving Brad still rubbing his lips.

"That was gross," Brad thought to himself. Later, when he was alone, he couldn't help thinking about Jessica's parting words, though. His parents had been talking about their bills a lot lately.

When he started school in the new town, Brad learned the most terrifying news of all. He was informed that he would be required to take a physical education course that included mandatory showers after the workout. Brad had never been naked in front of anyone before, at least not since he was a little kid.

Brad went to school that first day so nervous that he was nauseous. He didn't feel butterflies in his stomach. They were prehistoric pterodactyls. He was unable to calm either his fear of being naked in front of the other boys, or his excitement at seeing them exposed. That fact scared him even more.

His first class of the day was History. This was one of Brad's favorite subjects, so he expected to do well. Unfortunately, he got lost trying to find the room. When he did show up only a minute after the tardy bell, the instructor practically growled at him.

Coach Johnson was a big brute of a man who taught eighth grade History as a sideline to his real passion, football. The man pointed out that the boys who were late for football practice had to run extra laps around the field. Brad had to find a seat on his own, and soon discovered why the only one available was front row center. Coach Johnson was a spitter when he lectured.

Mrs. Holstedt, the Math teacher, seemed to like Brad instantly. The boy had no idea why. Math was his worst subject. He decided that the woman must have a soft spot for hard luck cases. Brad had her class second in the day, and was late to her class as well, having gotten lost again in the hallways.

Mrs. Holstedt simply smiled at him, and directed him to a seat. She asked for his schedule, and proceeded to give him directions to the rest of his classes, while the rest of the class worked a surprise quiz. She was very kind, and Brad relaxed a good bit after that. He went to English after Math, and thanks to Mrs. Holstedt, he was on time for that class.

Brad's English teacher was quite possibly the most frightening person he had ever met. She dressed all in black, and wore heavy makeup. Her jet black hair had a wiry look to it, as if it were really a wig. He got a cold chill just being in the room with her.

Brad couldn't help thinking of a vampire when he first saw her. One of the kids sitting near him warned Brad not to stare at her. The boy told Brad that the teacher was a witch.

"Well, just because she dresses a little funny…" Brad tried to defend the woman.

"No, she really is," the boy interrupted. "My aunt is in the coven with her."

"Chris, I'm sure your aunt would not appreciate you discussing her personal life with a stranger any more than I do." The teacher was at the front of the room. There was no way she had heard his whisper. "Brad, you will be amazed at what I can hear in this room," the strange woman added.

She didn't look angry, but the entire class was hushed. The woman kept her emotionless gaze directed at Brad. "You are new here, so I will introduce myself, and then you will do the same." She cleared her throat and announced, "I am Ms. Phillips. That is Ms, not Mrs. or Miss. I can see and hear everything that goes on in this room, so do not presume to try anything inappropriate."

"My name's Brad Daniels," the boy announced nervously. "I just moved to town a week ago."

"Who are your parents, Brad?" Ms. Phillips prompted. "What do they do? What about yourself? Do you have any hobbies?"

"My parents are Elijah and Louise Daniels," Brad answered. "My father is the Pastor of New Hope Church. My mother works at home. I enjoy reading and writing."

"I will expect exemplary scores from you in this class, then," Ms. Phillips stated flatly. "Take your seat, and the rest of you present your textbooks."

After English, Brad went to the Art room. Mr. Kennedy welcomed him to the class with a firm handshake. The man seemed surprised that a boy would want to take the course by choice.

"Do you have a particular interest in the Arts; any natural talents, gifts, or abilities?" the man asked.

"I doodle… I mean, I sketch a lot, but I don't think I would call it a gift, or anything," Brad confessed. "I'm not very good at it."

"Why don't you let me decide whether you're good?" Mr. Kennedy countered. "It's kind of my job around here." There were a few snickers from the girls in the room. "We are about to start a study of pottery at the moment. Find a seat, and we'll get started."

After the Art class ended, the whole school went to lunch. Brad had never been impressed with school food, but this was a pleasant surprise. The only drawback to the meal was that he was feeling rather lonely. He missed his friends from his old school. Suddenly, a shadow fell across his tray.

"I'm sorry about getting you in trouble in class earlier." Brad looked up to see a rather sheepish Chris, looking intently at the table.

"It's ok, really," Brad told him. "She probably would have made me do that anyway. Besides, it was worth it just to see her flinch when I said that my dad was a preacher." Both boys laughed at that.

"Can I sit with you?" Chris asked so softly that Brad almost didn't hear him.

"Sure, if you want to," Brad agreed. "Throw it in neutral and park it."

"What?" Chris questioned.

"Oh, it's just something my friend Robert says all the time," Brad explained. "His dad is a truck driver and Robert is supposed to take over the business when he grows… I mean when he graduates." He had started to say when he grows up, but realized that sounded a little childish. They were in the eighth grade now, they were practically adult now.

"That's cool," Chris mused. "Neutral and park it; I like it." He ate a few bites of his lunch, and then asked, "Do you miss your friends a lot?"

"Yeah," Brad admitted. "I miss them a lot more than I thought I would. They were the first real friends I had ever made. My dad has made us move a lot."

"It must be tough moving around a lot," Chris sympathized. "I wouldn't know. I've lived here all my life."

"I can't imagine what that must be like," Brad told the boy. "I've had to move eight times and I'm only thirteen years old."

"Wow!" Chris responded. "Do you even bother to unpack anymore?"

"I suggested not doing it once, but my mom didn't think much of the idea," Brad laughed.

"Maybe you could come to the movies one night," Chris suggested. "My dad runs the theater, so I could get you in for free."

"I wish I could," Brad sighed. "My father doesn't allow me to watch movies." Brad imitated his father's voice as he said, "Hollywood is controlled by Satan and movies are his weapons of iniquity to turn the flock of God into a perverse generation of vipers."

"Does he really believe that?" Chris asked quickly. "He sounds like a nut case… I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it… Oh, shit… I mean, Jesu…I'm going to shut up now."

"Relax, Dad's the preacher not me," Brad said with a smile. "He is a nutcase by the way."

Just then the boys' conversation was interrupted by the bell announcing the end of lunch. Brad and Chris went to put their food trays away and talked a bit more on the way. Chris asked Brad what his next class was.

"I have science next," Brad replied as he showed Chris his schedule.

"That's cool, we have the whole afternoon together," Chris said with a smile. "Come on, follow me."

Brad did as he was told. He followed Chris down the hall, but he had to keep his books in front of him. He had sprung an erection from watching Chris' butt wiggling in his tight pants. The problem got worse when they got to class.

The one vacant seat was directly behind Chris. As the boy shifted in his desk, Brad was given a bird's eye view of his lower back and upper crack. Brad found himself praying that the teacher wouldn't call on him to stand up as Ms. Phillips had.

Luckily for him, this teacher didn't even seem to notice that there was a new student. She simply launched into her lecture. Brad struggled to get Chris and his butt out of his mind, but the elements of the periodic table weren't doing it for him. Finally this class ended as well, although that only compounded Brad's dilemma. It was now time for him to go to the gymnasium.

"Come on, Brad," Chris called as he stood up. "It's time for P.E."

"You'll be in that class, too?" Brad gulped.

"I told you we have all the same classes after lunch," Chris reminded him. "Don't worry though. Coach Johnson doesn't coach this class. He's at the high school working with the senior football team now. We get Coach Spencer."

"Is he nicer than Coach Johnson?" Brad asked nervously as the two boys crossed the campus toward the gym.

"Everyone is nicer than Coach Johnson," Chris replied with a laugh.

"Hi Chris," a man's voice called out as they entered the building. "Who's this with you?"

"Hi Coach," Chris answered. "This is Brad. He just started here today."

"Welcome to the sweat box, Brad," the coach grinned. He saw the confused expression on Brad's face and explained. "That's what we call the gym around here, because it has no air conditioning system. This building is the oldest on the campus."

"It's even older than you, right Coach?" Chris teased.

"Watch it, kid," the man growled playfully. "I'll make you run laps."

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Brad told the coach.

"Sir?" Coach Spencer repeated. "What are you guys doing, ganging up on me now? I'm only 28, you know." The three of them turned to walk into the building then. "Chris, you know where the supplies are kept. I'll let you get Brad here outfitted for class." To Brad he said, "Brad, the school will supply everything you need to dress out for class, so you don't have to buy a thing. At the end of the year, the jock strap will be yours to keep, but the workout clothes will be turned in to me. I would take care of getting you squared away, but I can't leave the class today as we will be working out with the weights."

"Come on, Brad," Chris called. "The locker rooms are over here. I'll help you find everything, and stay with you while you try it all on in case something doesn't fit. The jock strap has to fit just right, or it could cause problems."

"Chris, please don't laugh at me, but what is a jock strap?" Brad asked nervously.

"You've never worn a jock before?" Brad shook his head. "Well, it's kind of like underwear, but it has a plastic cup that goes in it to protect your stuff."

"My stuff?" Brad questioned.

"Just wait until we get in the locker room and I'll show you," Chris told him. Just then they reached a door labeled 'BOYS'. "Well, here we are," Chris announced. "The lockers are to your left with the showers past them. The supplies are kept in the room to the right. When you come in to class every day, you will grab the basket with your gear in it and head to your locker to change."

"Which locker is mine?" Brad asked. He looked into the room and froze. Everywhere he looked were boys getting undressed, or already completely undressed. He could see naked skin all over the place. There were backs, and chests, butts and oh boy...Everything was exposed to view to everyone in the room.

"Earth to Brad," Chris said poking him in the ribs. Brad jumped and whirled around. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, but you zoned out on me there. Are you alright?"

"I didn't know we would have to get naked naked," Brad whispered. "I... I don't.... I mean I'm not...."

"Relax, buddy," Chris advised. "Don't think about the other boys. Just come in and do what you've got to do. That's what Coach told the rest of us." He handed Brad an empty wire basket to hold. "Now, what sizes do you wear?"

"Ummm… I don't really know. My mom buys all my clothes," Brad confessed.

"No problem," Chris told him. "I will just check your labels. That's what a couple of the guys had to do at the first of the year when we got started." With that he walked around behind Brad. He pulled the collar of the T-shirt out and said, "Medium. Now let's see the label on the jeans says 12 slim, but you've got a belt on. If you take the belt off, are they going to hit the floor?"

"No, Mom says they look better with a belt," Brad answered.

"Ok, so I'm thinking a medium for the shorts," Chris said thoughtfully. "I will get a small out just in case though. Now let's check the other. Undo your belt so I can see the label in your underwear. In fact, why don't you just go ahead and take your pants off? You'll have to in a minute or two anyway."

Brad thought he would just die from embarrassment. He was being ordered to strip by this incredibly cute boy. What if he sprung a… Oh man, he was getting stiff down there.

"Come on, we can't take all day to do this; Coach wants us back out there," Chris pointed out. Brad unfastened the front of his pants, but before he could drop them, Chris had grabbed the waistband of the pants and the underwear and pulled them both out in the back. "You wear mediums here, too." It seemed to take a little while before he let go of the pants. When he walked back around in front of Brad, Chris' face was a little red. "Ok, let's get your equipment so you can try everything on." He handed Brad a gray shirt, matching shorts, and a little black and red box.

"What's the box for?" Brad asked.

"That's your jock strap and cup," Chris answered. "Now let's find a locker that's empty." They walked around the room which was now empty of other boys. They were already out in the gym starting class.

"Here's an empty," Brad called out. "There's two of them here."

"That's perfect," Chris told him. "Let's get changed. Coach is waiting."

Brad turned away from Chris as he took off his shirt and opened the little box. What he pulled out completely confused him. There was just a little pocket of cloth and some straps. He couldn't figure out how he was supposed to wear it. He suddenly realized that if everyone had to wear one, then that would include Chris. He could just sneak a look at his new friend and would see how to put this thing on himself. When he looked back over his shoulder, he saw that Chris was completely naked.

Brad was suddenly harder than he had ever been in his life. He knew he should look away, but he just couldn't. This was his first time to see another boy naked in real life. His dreams, wet or not, couldn't compare to the real thing.

"Hey, buddy, you'd better hurry up or we'll be late for class," Chris said as he stepped into his jock strap, quickly followed by his workout shorts. He froze suddenly with his clothes just at his knees. "You really haven't ever worn a jock before, have you?"

"Well, no," Brad admitted with a blush.

"It's no big deal, the pouch goes in front and the straps in the back, like this," Chris explained as he pulled his own up and into place. "Wow! Your jock may not be a big deal, but what you've got to put in it sure is. You'll never get into the cup like that."

Brad wanted to crawl under the lockers and die. Chris had seen his erection. Now he would know…. Wait a minute; did he just say it was big?

"You'd better do something with that boner or you'll never be able to get into uniform for class, Brad," Chris was saying. "OUCH!" he gasped as he grabbed at the front of his shorts. "Now mine's getting the pinch."

"Come on children," the coach called from the doorway. "Time's a'wasting."

"I'll take care of this," Chris whispered as he walked toward the door. "Coach, we just need an extra minute or two. Brad has to get used to the uniform, if you know what I mean."

"Never seen one before, huh?" the man asked back. "Nothing to be ashamed of Brad, plenty of these other guys didn't know what they were on the first day of school either," he called out. "I have to watch over the guys with the weights. Chris, will you help Brad out and you boys join us in a few minutes?"

"Sure thing, Coach," Chris answered with a smile. He hurried back to the locker where Brad was still standing. He was now dressed, though. "Well, I guess you got into it after all. Does it fit okay? If it's too tight, it could hurt your boys down there."

"My boys?" Brad asked. "Oh, I get it. No, it's not too tight. It fits just fine."

"Good, then let's get our shirts on and get out there, before the other guys think we're perving on each other or something," Chris told him.

"What's…. Never mind." Brad was going to ask what perving meant, but decided he had enough of a clue not to want to know more. "Thanks, Chris."

"What for?" the other boy asked him in confusion.

"For helping me today," Brad answered. "I would have been lost for sure."

"Hey, no problem," Chris smiled. "That's what friends are for."