Guys I Wanted To Fuck in High School, Part 1. (Gym Class.)

3 May

Guys I Wanted To Fuck in High School is a series of short essays about growing up  frustrated in small-town Pennsylvania.  


#1 – Gym Class

I don’t know if this is normal, but in the early mornings before I left for school, I would actually get down on my knees and pray to God for the whole gym class to fuck me. Even the teacher. Especially the teacher.

There were two gym teachers at my high school – one was kindhearted and gullible and taught sex ed. The other – Mr. Wolfe, my gym teacher – was masculine and always angry. He was perfectly built and yelled at us like we were his soldiers. He would do walking handstands in front of us, and his arms tensed to show off the thick cords of tendon; his shirt would drift toward his head and I could see his belly, flat, punctuated with muscle, hairy. He had a beat-up face. When we played dodgeball, the losing team had to rush to the locker room door one by one, a door that was lined on either side by the winners, who pelted you with the mottled pink balls. He made us run til we puked. He called us “pussies” and told us no girls would want to smell our stinking bodies after class, so we’d better take showers.

No one took showers. The big open shower room, dry, unused, didn’t even show up in my fantasies. Instead my thoughts would all center around the locker room itself.

I could see their balls in the spaces between their underwear and their thighs. Their dickheads would push aside the front opening of their boxers. They’d daringly moon each other. One of them, Brian, pulled his waistband below his ass and strutted around. He was making a joke, but I missed it. It couldn’t have been more serious to me. Every week, twice a week, I was surrounded by half naked boys. Dave, Sean, Jamie, Brian, Marco, Ethan, Brad. Their dicks would sway in their underwear as they undressed. Our skin was smooth, although most of us had armpit hair and leg hair, and some with hair just below our belly buttons.

Amazingly, I never got hard. It wasn’t that I could control it: I’d get hard in the halls, on field trips, in classes; I was constantly getting erections. There was no control, just mysterious mercy that kept me from getting caught.

Not that it mattered. Eventually, I was being called “faggot” anyway.

A high school gym isn’t like a gym you work out in as an adult. It’s only a big open space with a wooden shine where everyone can see you. We’d bring out nets and play volleyball, bring out mats and wrestle, follow Mr. Wolfe with equipment to the baseball field. Or we’d run to the big hill next to the track and play flag football. No one had ever taught me how to play football – my Syrian father didn’t know anything about American sports except boxing – and so my teacher and teammates were invariably disappointed in me. I couldn’t catch footballs or hit baseballs. Being picked last became a badge of honor. We’d bring out the horse and bars do gymnastics, and I was better at that than most kids. I have strong legs. They didn’t save me.

Until I was a senior, I was taunted and teased. Sometimes I was pushed into lockers. Once I was punched in the stomach.

I wore shirts with the names of bands – The Jesus Lizard, The Cows, Seaweed – that no one had ever heard of. I was constantly questioning the teachers, showing off some sort of angry iconoclasm. None of these things fit, so I was “gay” to them. The other kids knew I was off before I did. I knew I was attracted to men, but I wouldn’t have ever identified as gay, and was especially reluctant to when I found out that identity was nothing but an insult.

Dave kicked the bottom of my shoes as I walked, making me trip forward. Ethan pushed me as I ascended the stairs. Jamie grabbed me by the neck. Sean called me a faggot. It felt like everyone was calling me a faggot, even the girls.

When I became 17 it suddenly stopped. Maybe that was because I became friends with some of the more popular kids, or because the main instigators – one class above me – had graduated.

I thought (like most kids?) about blowing up the school. I thought about picking up my fork and going absolutely apeshit and stabbing the eyes out of my persecutors at lunch. I thought of ways to ruin their lives and cripple them. I didn’t create that violence, it was brought to me, pushed and shouted and taunted into me each day.

I hated going to school, except for gym days. And I hated gym class, but I wanted it anyway. My feelings were competing in me, and I wanted to stop competing. What were we always competing for, anyway?

Instead of killing them, I’d take my lunch and sneak upstairs everyday to the empty media lab, full of TVs and cameras. I jerked off in there and ate my lunch alone. As long as I had that time to myself, as long as I could think about them fucking me, I could keep all of us safe.

On the wooden benches, by the lockers, I’d imagine them taking turns, sliding their underwear down to their ankles, their asses were all smooth, their bodies were all young, and they were fucking my mouth and my ass. I’d think of them talking to each other over me, while they were inside me, almost as if I weren’t there. I wanted to be what made them feel good, I wanted them to meet in me. And I’d be invisible. If they were in me together, maybe I could experience their comradery. At the end, I’d see myself appear again and they’d pat me on the back and tell me I did well. I’d imagine one or more of them putting their arms around me in school the next day. I’d jerk off to them being my friends.

Dave, a year ahead of me, the most relentless of the bullies, once said to me during gym class, “You sexy bitch.” No one else was around, and to this day, I don’t understand why he said it. I wrote in my confused and urgent journal that night that he must have secretly loved me. We were reading A Separate Peace in English class, and I was consumed with thoughts of loving and hating someone at the same time. But he didn’t love me or hate me; I bumped into him at a Borders a few years after my graduation and he didn’t even recognize me. All that meaning, all those times I hated him or jerked off to him, all the times I thought about stabbing him in the throat with a fork, and I was nobody. He walked by with his pregnant wife and looked at me the way you’d look past someone you’ve never met and aren’t interested in. He had long hair but was still handsome.

Is this why so many men identify with and long for the men who dominate us? Sex was reaching its unbearable teenage fever in me at the same time that I was being pushed into walls, torn away from my backpack, berated.

In his office connected to the locker room, Mr. Wolfe had a separate shower. I imagined that little shower was for him and for his special students. I didn’t know what that meant, “special students,” I just thought the most athletic kids got to shower in there for some reason.

And when I wasn’t imagining getting gangbanged by my classmates, I’d be in Mr. Wolfe’s shower with him. He’d turn on the water and fuck me. I’d always envision him holding onto me, so that we were both standing, bent over, and his hard, hairy chest was on my smooth back, and his legs were touching my legs. His dick was huge and painful and all the way in me. My head was in the crook of his neck. His arms were wrapped around me.

I imagined all this and I prayed for it. But they never fucked me. I was never a good athlete or called into Mr. Wolfe’s office. They never put their arms around me. And we never became friends.

49 Responses to “Guys I Wanted To Fuck in High School, Part 1. (Gym Class.)”

  1. Jared Hylton May 3, 2012 at 2:30 am #

    You basically just described my entire existence in HS, except I got in with the cheerleaders good graces quickly, so if anyone was an asahole to me I’d tell their girlfriend and they’d get bitched at hard. Haha. But all of my coaches from my HS….mmmm, we had 5 coaches in total, and all of them I would GLADLY have let ram me on the regular. Especially Coach Tim. Mmmm. OHS coaches were pretty hot to me and I so would have taken the opportunity to sleep with them had it been presented.

    • Conner Habib May 3, 2012 at 2:31 am #

      Thanks for the comment, Jared. It’ll be interesting to see how many people have had similar experiences – I’m curious about how often we intertwine bullying and fear with desire.

  2. Tom Bellino (@tombellino) May 3, 2012 at 2:30 am #

    Oh my god, I felt almost exactly the same way about my bullies in middle/high school. I hated them and resented that they were popular, but at the same time I’d have dropped trou for most of them on command. Is this perhaps an unspoken shared gay experience? I wonder if straight teenagers feel the same way about opposite-sex bullies.

    • Conner Habib May 3, 2012 at 2:36 am #

      Thank you for this, it makes me feel like I’m in the company of a lot of other people and not alone in my conflicting feeling

  3. Xavier C. D. FitzSimons May 3, 2012 at 4:44 am #

    I’m crying a little right now, remembering the bullying I experienced throughout high school, my after school job, college, etc. I was the quiet weakling, keeping to myself, writing poetry, afraid of the gym, physical education, tormented by the realization of my sexual identity, and just trying to survive the four years of a rural redneck high school in the deep south, changing for gym class in the bathroom stall, hidden by the rather enormous number of smokers sneaking puffs just outside the stall. I hated how I looked and I didn’t want to be caught staring at the cute redneck guys. I too thought of violence but instead wrote constantly. I was a mess for years after all that, only recently awakening to life in general. Thank you so much for sharing this story. I don’t feel alone now.

  4. ultraaman May 3, 2012 at 6:13 am #

    I always knew I was gay but had it in my head that I wasn’t “allowed” to be gay until I was 18 so I even had a self-imposed celibacy to my fantasies while growing up. Eh, it was the 80’s.

    My HS experience was also different – 1 part not half bad and 2 parts abject loneliness from being ostracized for something I didn’t do. So I don’t know what it’s like to be teased or bullied (not counting that really butch girl who beat me up in 6th grade) but I do know what it’s like to be actively shunned and excluded because of something I had no control over.

    That’s why when you wrote, “I’d jerk off to them being my friends,” I paused. Looking back, that statement does seem to capsulize the feelings of raging hormones I had at the time mixed with two not completely different longings that couldn’t be quenched. I’m glad you have found a way to express these conflicts you have and I don’t mind being taken down memory lane when it serves a purpose but I tend not to dwell on that time of my life and I am OK with that.

  5. Bill May 3, 2012 at 8:08 am #

    I could have been the subject for a “Not A Jock” poster. If I was in much better shape at the time & was so inclined I guess I could have been, but participating in sports didn’t/doesn’t interest me in the slightest. Hockey I like to watch. Jocks themselves, I like to watch.

    A gym coach I will always remember, Mr. Barnes. He was so sexy, if a bit weird in a way. He had a big muscled chest, but his arms were smaller than they should have been in proportion to his chest. That didn’t matter though. Dark black hair, porn/T. Magnum mustache which I usually don’t like(Beard/mustache man here), very hairy chest & legs which were nicely muscled as well, and last but certainly not least his ass!! Just amazing! There were also those “God” boys, they were boys but with the bodies of gods. So beautiful it was painful to even look at them. Seeing them shower was so damn hard. Like you Conner, I never got hard. But I think for me it was because I was concentrating so hard on not being obvious, about not getting caught looking, desperately wishing yet dreading for this time to be over.

    I don’t mean to sound smug, superior or like I’m rubbing it in but I was very rarely physically bullied. I was one of the tallest & biggest guys in my grade but overweight so I guess I was an unknown in the physicality department. Painfully shy, on the meek side, etc. That’s me. But I was taunted, had the whispers, the shoves in the hallway so I wouldn’t know who it was in the crowd.

    Sorry for taking up so much of your comment space. I love your blog & your Tweets.
    Plus, I have to say, you are a very sexy man as well. Beautiful on the outside, but especially on the inside.

    • Conner Habib May 3, 2012 at 4:13 pm #

      Ha, please don’t apologize for not being bullied! As I wrote, I was bullied for a time – mostly in 10th and 11th grade – and not being bullied was much much better. :) Thank you for your openness and for letting me read your story, too! – CH

  6. stewartwho May 3, 2012 at 4:39 pm #

    Me and my best mate Damon, would pull our rugby socks all the way up to our thighs, then safety pin them to our shorts so they looked like suspenders. Then we would can-can across the rugby pitch. As punishment, my PT teacher would make me wash his rugby boots, and those of the other boys, while naked in the shower. Often they’d beat shit out of me on thw way home. I’ve forgiven all of them. One day, I’ll forgive myself. I’m still friends with Damon- 30 years later.

    • Conner Habib May 3, 2012 at 4:50 pm #

      Wow. That’s making me think even more about the emasculating punishments teachers (particularly gym teachers) let lose on us. Even in elementary school, our gym teacher would punish us by making us kiss each other. He also called the one black student “boy.”

      • stewartwho May 4, 2012 at 12:50 pm #

        Obviously, I was doing quite a good job of emasculating myself. It seemed less exhausting than ‘manning up’. I can Alpha Male which in almost every situation but sports. I’ll fight, drink, leer at girls, slap backs, talk in a deep voice, BUT you make me do sports and I’ll start putting on mascara before crying my eyes out. Except for roller skating, obviously. I love that.

      • Conner Habib May 4, 2012 at 4:11 pm #

        Ha, just perfect.

    • Lee Johnson June 11, 2012 at 5:05 am #

      W T F! Dude, I’m rather sure you have no reason to even consider forgiving yourself. You were a teenager and did something stupid, but your PT teacher and the other students were in the wrong afterward. No school punishment should ever involve any form of nudity, PERIOD! If I had ever been punished like that for something at my old high school and my mother or father found out about it, all hell would have broken loose. The school and the district would have been sued and my mother would have personally made that teacher eat his f*****g shoes and then crushed his b*lls!

  7. WriterBear May 3, 2012 at 5:11 pm #

    This awakening happened earlier for me: sixth grade and I was twelve. I had three male teachers that year, all in thier late 20’s or early 30’s and all handsome. But Mr. Caito was my favorite. He had a short, neatly-trimmed beard that he unconsciously stroked during class. For gym class, he wore a sleeveless athletic shirt that put on display his hairy armpits and furry chest.

    I was teased for being chubby and not being good at sports. But Mr. Caito always nurtured the budding intelligence he recognized in me.

    One day my classmate Roger, who already had chest hair in the sixth grade, tripped me in the hall and laughed about it. Mr. Caito witnessed the attack. He pulled Roger and me out of class, took us into the empty hallway and made Roger apologize. Then, while I watched, he made Roger bend over. Using a leather paddle, Mr. Caito administered a few “whacks” across Roger’s blue jean covered ass. (Corporal punishment had not yet been banned in schools.)

    Needless to say, that scene has played out somewhat differently in my head countless nights.

    I saw Mr. Caito again years later, when I was working retail. He claimed to remember me, but I could tell he didn’t. It was okay. We shared something bigger, better in my memory.

    • Conner Habib May 3, 2012 at 6:50 pm #

      Corporal punishment was still in effect until I was about a Sophmore or so – although many teachers still hit students (not just with paddles). I wonder if that moment of rescue has translated itself in any obvious way into your adult life?

      • WriterBear May 3, 2012 at 7:48 pm #

        Wow. Good question and not something I had really identified previously. But your phrase “moment of rescue” struck a chord in me. I think it was the start of two things: my eroticising of beards and hairy men in general and my long quest to find that “knight in shining hairsuit.” It took me years to stop looking and start rescuing myself.

        Thanks, as always for your delicious writing, and your keen insight. It is always a good day when I get to read Conner Habib.

  8. Shadow Sterling May 3, 2012 at 5:27 pm #

    Your eloquence always stabs me right in the heart. I once read from the creators of the Word Press blog that less than 1% of readers ever comment on a blog and even less on an “adult” blog. I wonder how many people you have helped that you will never know.

  9. Gilbert Veee May 3, 2012 at 5:39 pm #

    Very interesting story and thank you for sharing. I hated going to school because of the bullying, but then I became friends with the popular kids and everything changed, I started bullying people and defended those who were bullied as well, but most of the time I was just a bitch to everyone because that was one way I wouldn’t get bullied or teased, I thank god I never had any physical damage but I did get pushed into a locker once. Anyway that you for sharing.

  10. johnnie10 May 3, 2012 at 11:01 pm #

    thats an awesome story and could have been mine as well, I was an overweight kid who didnt like participating in sports and everyone called me faggot all the time and i was bullied by many of the jock type students, once in junior high a guy was down on hands and knees behind me and another guy shoved me backward over him, this was outside and on a hilly part of the schoolgrounds, I ended up twisting my knee so badly that i got water on the knee and couldnt walk right for several weeks after that. the school ended up paying the medical expenses because it happened on school property. bulliying things like that continued to happen to me thoughout most of my high school years as well but the locker room fantasies were the best time for me as well, watching all the naked guys with the cocks swinging, there was one guy who when we were juniors had the hugest cock and he knew it too, he would walk naked from the farthest locker to the shower and he made it swing to show it off to everyone. would love to have sucked on that one and more as well.

  11. david May 4, 2012 at 1:44 am #

    This posting definitely resonated with me. I was bullied for 2 years of junior high and 4 years of high school. It started out with people calling me faggot all the time (I was actually very ambivalent about sex for most of my life in school..didn’t care about it one little bit). Eventually the bullying escalated and the bullies would torment me on the bus, slug me in school, and other things. There was always a new way each day that people could figure out to play around with me. I never fought back and was very shy and short and weak at the time. As a matter of fact, I grew over a FOOT after graduating from High school (my theory is that the stress caused me to stop growing for several years). Eventually I hated going to school each day but I perservered and did graduate.

    I remember as I was sitting next to this “jock guy” during my graduation, he turns to me and says, “David, you know why people picked on you, right?” and I turned to him and said, “Not really.” and he said, “Because we like you otherwise we wouldn’t do it.” I immediately realized that he was scum and hoped that the universe would do something to settle his account with me someday.

    I don’t run into people from High School anymore. Well I did one time and he said that I looked different and he went to school with me. I replied, “and why should I care about that?” I always get these stupid notices for reunions and I laugh so hard because seriously after what I went through…SURE I’d LIKE to meet these people again…NOT! Typically what I do when I get reunion notices is I burn them. They made their mark on me and no amount of time or stupid inane excuses will ever make it better.

    • Conner Habib May 4, 2012 at 2:09 am #

      Hey there – Thanks for sharing that.
      Of course, the “we pick on you because we like you” thing is terrible. There’s no idea of responsibility or how much pain they caused. I would have also been very upset about that.
      That said, I have to confess that my high school reunion was a very gentle and warm experience for me. Everyone was much kinder and a lot of them just seemed sort of exhausted by their lives. We got along and I got to let go of a lot of the junk that had built up over time, showing up in my thinking and my dreams.
      -CH

      • Nate Bruno May 19, 2012 at 6:57 am #

        This was my experience with my reunion too. For years I avoided the reunions, it was the last thing I wanted to see those people again. But finally I mustered up the courage to go to my 25th, and it was as you describe it. I could finally let go of all those bad old feelings, they just peeled away. I can sincerely say I had a good time.

        Interestingly, the reunion included a tour of the old school, including the gym locker room. Everything was exactly as it was, including the shower area which was also dry and unused like yours. Really strange to be back in that room all these years later.

  12. Laura Scappaticci May 4, 2012 at 2:30 am #

    Thank you for this beautiful post. Your responses and the responses of the readers were great. More please, Conner.

  13. Jake May 4, 2012 at 2:40 am #

    High school was only 6 years ago for me, but I remember having all sorts of fantasies similar to yours. I was also lucky to never be bullied, especially physically, like most people; everything hurtful happened behind your back at my high school because it was such a small school in a small rural community in Ohio.

    I didn’t have any hot teachers, but man, there were a lot of hot male classmates. Gym class was always a treat, and amazingly I too avoided getting a hard-on. I was never that popular, but joining the cross country team and making friends with a couple of the good runners (I never was very good, but we were a close-knit team) helped boost me in my high school popularity hierarchy. My best friend on the cross country team, Tyson, was two years older than me, and seemed like a Greek god then. A tan, built body with a happy trail of hair running down to a nice manbush and cock (which I eventually got to see in the locker room showers); he even had a slightly hairy ass. He also had dark brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes; my favorite combination. Almost every time I saw him I wanted to fuck with him. He also had a friend, Rex, who was like a lighter-skinned, slightly less muscled version of him, and I jerk offed too many times to remember about the awesome threesomes we could have. There have been a couple of times where I’ve wondered if Tyson might’ve fucked me just because he could, but to this day I still think he’s your typical good-looking, rugged straight man runner. I also had thoughts that Rex might’ve been more bicurious, but alas I never was able to pursue it, even when we ended up at the same university and became friends there, because I was too scared and still a closeted bisexual man then.

    Thanks for your honesty man and sharing your story. Great to know I and others are not alone!

    • Conner Habib May 4, 2012 at 2:46 am #

      Something I notice: Many gay men have very specific memories about the people we went to high school with. More specific than other eras in our lives. Thanks for telling me about Tyson and Rex. -CH

  14. Mira Bartok May 5, 2012 at 11:54 am #

    Really beautiful and powerful. Thanks for writing this—looking forward to more.
    xox

  15. Rick May 5, 2012 at 1:56 pm #

    From a Chinese medical perspective, The part of the body that is activated when fear is present happens to be quite close to the groin. So sex can stimulate fear and fear can stimulate sexual arousal.

    I’m happy to report that any bully who wanted to fight me after school never actually showed up. I was teased a a lot and often felt isolated. Due to fantasies, I nearly passed out when Todd, captain and QB of the football team asked me for the time. He knew my name!

    After swim practice, someone caught me looking at Jamie’s ass in the locker room and nodded to him about it. But Jamie didn’t seem to care.

    And in the “strange moves” department: Somehow I managed to lose my balance in the darkroom during photography class and fall right onto John B’s ass. He did have a really nice ass and a cute face and wore tight jeans. No one believed me when I honestly said it was an accident. Embarrassing then, funny now.

  16. Arjay May 5, 2012 at 4:27 pm #

    There was a guy named Dave R. in my gym class in highschool that I lusted after. One day he happened to be changing out of his clothes and into his gym shorts right beside me. I was seated and he was standing and as he slid his briefs down his big semi-hard cock spring out. I tried not to stare but then he turned slightly toward me as he slid up his jock strap. He didn’t quite aim correctly and his cock stuck out just inches from my face until he arranged the jock pouch to cover it. Needless to say, that was the basis for many jerk-off fantasies for years.

  17. Adam May 5, 2012 at 5:25 pm #

    this is fascinating!

    I had no problems coming out in high school, and only got called a faggot once in 7th grade (this might be because I was 6’5″ in junior high and had a beard most of high school) but I avoided the lockerroom like the plague, often using my supposed asthma as an excuse. I was friendly with all the jocks, mostly because of their girlfriends, but I wasn’t attracted to them. Instead I had insane fantasies about all the bible study guys. they would look at me with this intense fascination/fear. I think it’s te feeling of otherness or exclusivity I really got off from, that I would never be able to be part of their group or belief system. i hated them so much but I used to jerk off thinking about how ashamed they would be if they got caught sucking me off.

    sexual desire is so complex. I’m going to be talking about this all week (thank god for grad school)

  18. Hélder May 6, 2012 at 3:41 pm #

    Great post, I’m not sure I would survive if my high school years were as bad as yours! LOL. I mean, I had high school in a remote Portuguese town, where everyone was nice to each other, but also a lot closed minded. During my high school years (I only finished two years ago), there was only one openly gay guy in the entire school, he had a group of friends who supported him, but everyone else criticized him for being gay. So I decided I would never be openly gay, only my closest female friends knew I was gay, in order to have people who supported me, and not to be judged by everyone else. Therefore, the guys never suspected I was gay, which allows me to have these great memories of the showers after the gym classes, where the guys played these stupid games, like making wars by throwing lots and lots of water on each other, the water was always freezing, but the games couldn’t be hotter (foutunatley, by some sort of miracle, I never got hard too).

    Now I’m 20 years old and I’m on the second year of college, and since most of the people are still judgemental and I don’t know any hot gay guys, nobody needs to know I’m gay. There are some advantages, such as the fact that my hot straight roomate feels confortable to walk around in the bedroom with nothing but his tight underwear, but on the other hand there is a big probability of me dying before I can ever get laid (however, if I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change a thing).

    Can’t wait for some more of your essays!

    P.S. I always had female gym teachers, lucky me… -_-‘

  19. Chaise November 4, 2012 at 12:31 pm #

    I would normally not reply to things like this.. but my life in school was similar to this! I just didn’t get bullied but when I was reading this I could imagine my school days! very freaky how similar people’s lives can be.

  20. Duste Allen (@dusteallen) December 29, 2012 at 6:58 pm #

    This was great, very well written. It made me think back to high school and even middle schools when I first realized I liked boys. It was 7th grade year in the PE locker room that I realized there was something about changing next to other boys that made me excited. Like you, I never got hard in the locker room, but it was exciting.

    In high school, I always got stuck next to the same guy in the locker room. He was such an asshole to me. Never anything physical, but always crude, ignorant remarks. I will never forget him. I remember thinking about one kid in particularly regularly in PE, he wasn’t the cutest or had the greatest body, but he had the biggest bulge. I never understood how his bulge was so big in our PE shorts, but it always stuck out hardcore. I also remember that same kid and two others randomly talking to me about jacking off a few times. I never understood why they would talk to me about it and then later call me a “fag” or whatever else they would call me. Maybe it was there way of trying to get me to offer to help them out? Who the hell knows.

    Oh, high school.

    • Conner Habib December 30, 2012 at 4:02 am #

      Yeah those situation were always so charged – it was hard to know with what. Thanks for your comment

  21. RoughRugger December 29, 2012 at 7:29 pm #

    God I can relate…that was middle & high school for me to a t. Terrified of popping wood in the locker room, unable to keep from sneaking peeks at the hotter guys (‘specially the ones with some fur), and jacking off every night thinking about it…

  22. drubskin December 29, 2012 at 10:23 pm #

    My high school experience was pretty similar to yours and those who shared in the comments below. I was a late bloomer at the end of my junior year of high school & very short, which made the 1st two years of mandatory high school gym class a living hell. Thankfully, much more intelligent than the bullies in my class, I went to their girlfriends, close friends, or embarrassed them directly in other classes with all the details of the stupidity they’d get up to in the locker room. Other times, I just had my art teacher write me excuse notes to get me out of gym when it started to get violent and I’d formulate a plan to deal with this or that bully by learning everything about him to use against him.

    I knew I couldn’t wait to leave for college and front loaded all of my required classes which opened my junior and senior year up more to classes tailored for art. That took me out of the line of fire. Mostly. I still got into fights and always at a sizeable disadvantage, so I took to picking up heavy rocks and sticks to even the playing field. I never got a black eye or a bloody nose. I can’t say that for my bullies.

  23. Marc Miller - central Florida August 4, 2013 at 9:41 pm #

    Definitely like your style of writing.
    Insightful & relatable.
    Have viewed some of your Sexpert vids.
    Seem like a nice guy.

  24. Ashton August 6, 2013 at 4:58 pm #

    I have always fanisised about locker room orgies, or something like what you went through. But I fell like this would never happen to me. I’m going into my sophomore year, and freshmen year was alright. I didn’t sine up for a gym class because I knew that when it came down to shower time I would get a massive boner! I just wish in could have something like this happen to me! Any suggestions?(: It would be appreciative.

    • Conner Habib August 6, 2013 at 6:31 pm #

      Well bud, I can’t really give sex advice to minors. My best advice is that you seek out your local LGBT organization and talk to them about it? Sorry!
      CH

      • Ashton August 6, 2013 at 6:41 pm #

        I understand, and I sure will check that out. Thanks man!(:

  25. Daniel September 23, 2013 at 8:07 pm #

    God my whole high school is like that. I get hard in gym class and other guys do too. We all walk around and grab each others dicks. One time after baseball practice a guy shot his load on the locker and coach had to clean it up. Coach was gay and I think he licked it up. Every day during practice I got hard. Just glad my jockstrap and cup kept it secret. I wanted my bear coach to fuck me. I sniffed my teammates jockstraps a few times and they smelled like fresh cock. Great times.

  26. gym mats for babies July 18, 2014 at 11:25 pm #

    We stumbled over here coming from a different web page and
    thought I might as well check things out. I like what I see so i am just following you.
    Look forward to going over your web page repeatedly.

  27. Doug August 20, 2014 at 9:38 pm #

    I would be your good friend. I was bullied in much the same way as you. I am a gentle, affectionate and loving man. I am companionate. I hope you are happy. :-)

  28. Doug August 21, 2014 at 2:13 am #

    I would be your good friend. I was bullied in much the same way as you. I am a gentle, affectionate and loving man. I am companionate. I hope you are happy. :-) also, I workout a lot, I’m built pretty well.

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Guys I Wanted To Fuck in High School: Part 1 “Gym Class” by Conner Habib | Accidental Bear - May 3, 2012

    [...] from Conner Habib blog [...]

  2. Guys I Wanted To Fuck in High School, Part 2 “Hall Pass” by Conner Habib | Accidental Bear - May 16, 2012

    [...] ~Conner Habib. Find Guys I Wanted To Fuck in High School, Part 1 (Gym Class) HERE. Spend some time bopping around Conner Habib’s blog and delve into the depths of his mind [...]

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