of him, in my and regulation gym clothes, panting and sweating, gasping for air from having just teen flexing boys four times around the track, a mile in all, in four minutes, thirty-eight seconds. Greg stood staring at his stopwatch. Most of the class was over a lap behind me, including a few soccer jocks who had jeered me the week before for pictures of teen boys haircuts coming near the ball when I finally did make teen boys bedding on the court to play. But I was a good runner. I always left the other guys far behind when we did laps.
"What′s your name?" Greg asked me. "Bob, but my friends teen boys me Lightning — Light for short." I said, just beginning to catch my breath. teen boys naked as… Continue reading