Salty Goodness

Me and Salty Goodness almost fucked during class.

I called him Salty Goodness because he was unnaturally sexy and because I didn't know his real name until later. He was the kind of boy I loved, the kind who didn't spend too much time worrying about how his clothes looked, who could wear a Gucci suit or a raggedy pillowcase as a shirt and still look divine. I could tell he had one of those laidback attitudes; he seemed like the kind of dude that spent his time enjoying the simplicity of life, rather than spending his whole time worrying about shit that really didn't matter in
the long run. I wanted him more than anything I ever wanted in my whole life, but I figured he didn't know that I existed.

Sitting in my dumb ass Anthropology class, I drew little dumb sketches in my notebook of smiley-faces and dicks. we had one of those movie theater type of classrooms, where the seats are tiered. I sat in the very back row, at the end, all the way at the top. There were only three other people sitting in the row with me. From time to time I would look at the large clock on the wall, and it never seemed to move. The professor's voice droned in my head, 
but I didn't hear a single word he said, and really didn't give a fuck either. 

The classroom door opened and Salty Goodness came in, holding his skateboard in one hand. Professor Old Boring Ass paused a moment as S.G came in and searched for a seat. "Class started twenty minutes ago," the white-haired professor said. Salty Goodness shugged. "Not my fault I couldn't find a parking space." Some people laughed. I was too busy spacing out to really know what was going on, until I locked eyes with that ridiculously handsome boy. 

His eyes were the color of the ocean on a beautiful day. Even from a slight distance, I could see those eyes clearly. My fingers twitched. There was one open seat next to me, and my heart thudded in my chest with the possibility that he might sit next to me. He sauntered toward my row, and now I was beginning to breathe really rapidly now. Salty Goodness looked at me as he squeezed through two people to get to the seat next to me. By this time I had held my breath, and I was tapping my pen on my 
paper very quickly. 

As he sat down, his shirt rode up, and I could see the bottom of his flat stomach, the sharp oblique line of his waist, and just a small portion of where his lower back curved into the top of his round ass. He wasn't wearing underwear. My dick almost leapt up in my jeans. Salty Goodness pulled out his notebook, turned to a blank page, and waited to write something down. I took sneak glances at his smooth, large hands, and his very long fingers. I loved long fingers, and I liked that his fingernails were not too manicured or not too dirty-looking, just simple. He turned and looked 
at me, and me, still nervous, turned to look at him briefly. His skin was beyond smooth: no acne marks, blemishes, wrinkles, or any of that--it was almost as if he didn't have pores. His lips were smaller than mine, and they were the color of pink bubble-gum. He had an attractive goatee as well, and the most adorable head of short, curly ebony hair, which contrasted so well with his azure eyes. I couldn't believe how attractive his eyes were. Salty Goodness opened his pretty mouth and said, "Did he say somethin important yet?" His voice was so sexy to me, kind of a deep, raspy tight voice. 

My heart was still palpitating wildly. I shrugged. "He never says anything important to me."

"You got the notes from Tuesday? I wasn't here," he said. 

"I didn't take notes," he said. "I was bored outta my fuckin mind."

Salty Goodness laughed quietly. I was almost blinded by the whiteness of his teeth. He looked down at my notebook paper, and saw the little stupid drawings I had made, including one of a giant dick. I had completely forgotten about drawing that. When I saw him looking at it, I covered it up with my hand. He leaned in kind of close, not too close that we were touching or that other people around us would notice, but close enough that I could smell his skin. I liked that he 
didn't smell completely fresh, not that he was stinking, but his natural body odor wasn't completely masked by soap. My dick was still semi-hard. I hoped that he wouldn't see it. 

But then Salty Goodness said to me, "That was a big dick". He whispered it so softly that only I could hear it, and even when I heard it, I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly. I didn't know if he was talking about the picture I had drawn, or the rising boner in my pants. Time seemed to pass slowly, but now that Salty Goodness was there, I really didn't care if time froze. He put his elbow on the armrest next to me and 
placed his hand on his cheek, with his head leaning toward me. I wanted to run my fingers through his curly hair. But of course I didn't. I returned to drawing little sketches in my book, and for some reason, I wrote "Salty Goodness" across the top of the page. He looked over at my paper, saw what I had written, and asked, "What's that mean?"

"Uh...I don't know. Just wrote it."

He looked at me, with his blue eyes piercing into me. "You know what Salty Goodness means don't you?" He had this wicked smile on his face. 

"No. What does it mean?"

He used his pen and wrote something on my paper: "Cum."

I almost gasped, but managed to control myself. Salty Goodness chuckled softly. "You didn't know that?" he asked. 

I felt kinda embarassed. "No."

He rubbed his foot against my foot. I felt an almost electric charge run up my thigh to my dick, making it even harder and noticible. One of the girls who sat in my row got up and headed toward the exit, leaving only one boy sitting at the very opposite side of the row, Salty Goodness and me, who sat the other opposite end. And that other boy was sleep and wasn't paying attention to us. 

On my paper, he wrote, in really crisp handwriting: My name is Gary. What's yours?"

I wrote down: Josh. 

"Josh," Gary whispered. The way he said my name made my skin warm up. He gazed down at the throbbing area in my jeans and smiled again. "This class making you hard, Josh?" he didn't seem disturbed by my erection at all, but intrigued. 

"No..." I tried to laugh it off like it was nothing special. "Just happens sometimes." I placed my notebook over my crotch area. 

Gary wrote on my paper: How big is it?

I couldn't believe he had asked me that. For a moment I was dumbfounded, and I was fully hard by that point. "Like eight inches," I whispered as low as I could. Gary's blue eyes sparkled.

"Yeah?" he asked. "That's tight."

A boy sitting in front of us turned around and looked up at us. He had this look on his face that suggested "Stop talking" 

he turned back around. Gary just laughed. 

He wrote on my paper: 9 1/2

For some reason I didn't get it at first. "What's that mean?" I asked. He confirmed what I thought he meant by squeezing the crotch area in his loose jeans. Gary slouched in his seat, spreading his legs open. His shirt tail came up a little, and I saw the ridges of his abs, his small navel, and the top of his thick pubic bush. I licked my lips. 

"You wanna see it?" Gary asked.

I nodded.

Gary undid his zipper very slowly. He did it on purpose to tease me, but I enjoyed it. Once his fly was open, Gary 

reached in with his thumb and index finger and started to massage his dick through his jeans. I waited for him to take it out, but he never did. He stopped and zipped up his jeans. I was disappointed.

"What happened?" I asked, my dick almost about to pop through the denim of my jeans. 

Gary shook his head. "Can't do it. Too nervous." But I didn't believe him. He didn't seem like the nervous type. "Let's get outta here," he said. "I know somewhere we could go." Gary didn't wait for me to answer. He stood, picked up his skateboard and backpack, and headed out of the class. People turned and watched him as he left, including the angry professor.