The Crimson Circle
Copyright© 2025 by jamesbreitbart
Chapter 1
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The story of Nolan Pierce, a freshman at a prestigious boarding school with an influential network of secret societies and a number of storied traditions - many of which involve nudity.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt Teenagers Gay School Alternate History Humiliation Group Sex Interracial Exhibitionism First Masturbation Voyeurism Foot Fetish Public Sex Nudism Politics
Nolan Pierce
I had applied to The Wilson School because by the time I got to eighth grade, I was already sick of the Bible thumping backwater that was Sissipahaw, North Carolina. All I really knew about it was that it was in Connecticut, graduated a lot of politicians and captains of industry, and was very expensive but offered very good scholarships. I was able to obtain one of the scholarships and talked my parents into letting me go by pointing out how good their college admissions rate was. I completed my summer reading and read the student handbook for new students, suffered through a shopping trip with my mom, and drove up to Connecticut to check into my new dorm room very early on the day after Labor Day. The freshmen would have three days of orientation before most of the upperclassmen arrived on campus.
I knew from the handbook that The Wilson School emphasized, or at least pretended to emphasize, ‘self-governance.’ Each freshman dorm had an assigned faculty supervisor, with a student ‘prefect’ attached to each floor. Reading through the lines, the faculty supervisor seemed to be responsible for handling major incidents (rape, overdoses, students attempting to build nuclear bombs in their dorm rooms), while the prefect enforced a set of rules for conduct within the hall (quiet hours, who gets the remote control in the common room when) supposedly voted on by residents. I would have bet money that when we got there the prefect was going to talk us into approving the set of rules approved by the administration.
I’d gotten a letter from the faculty supervisor, Mrs. Hodes, that was full of slightly patronizing language about how much I was going to ‘learn and grow’ at Wilson. I was pretty sure it was more for my parents’ benefit than mine, but it did tell me that my prefect was named James Calloway. What it didn’t tell me was that he was hot – with shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a slightly too small t-shirt that showed off his biceps.
“Hi,” he extended his hand as my parents, and I reached the third-floor landing with the first load of luggage. “I’m Jamie, your prefect.”
“Nolan Pierce,” I answered before either of my parents could, “nice to meet you.”
He shook my hand, and I noticed that he was wearing flip-flops. I had a foot fetish, which I attributed to Sissipahaw Middle School’s repressive atmosphere. Checking out other guys in the locker room was a one-way ticket to getting stuffed in a locker, so the only action a gay boy could get there was watching the other boys slide their feet out of their sandals under their desks during class. At the time I assumed Wilson would be the same way and certainly didn’t want Jamie to realize how hot I thought his toes were.
“You’re in room 305 with Noah Sinclair. Right across from me.”
We walked down the hallway, discovering that laminated pieces of paper with names of the occupants had been tacked onto each room door. I knocked on mine and Noah opened it. He had light brown hair, shading to blond at the tips, and blue eyes, with soft, almost feminine facial features. He had done Jamie one better in the shoe department and was totally barefoot. This raised a problem I hadn’t considered in my excitement at getting out of Sissipahaw. It was going to be much harder to hide my reactions in a boarding school environment that it had been back home.
I didn’t have much time to think about the problem, because Noah immediately introduced me to himself and his dad. Both of them seemed pretty friendly and offered to help us with our luggage. They were from Rhode Island and had had a much shorter drive than us, so Noah had already gotten all his things unpacked, and in the course of conversation we discovered that his father was a professor of brain surgery at Brown, which I knew really impressed my mom. They went downstairs after taking the last suitcase up to talk about whatever it is parents talk about when their kids are out of earshot, which had the convenient side effect of getting them out of my hair so I could set my stuff up how I wanted to.
I was just making the bed when a very tall boy barged into our room. Well, I guess we did have the door open, but still. “Hi, I’m Jasper Whitfield,” he announced confidently, “but you can call me Jas. I’m from New York.”
“Uh, nice to meet you. I’m Nolan.”
“Noah,” Noah waved from his bed, where he had been noodling around on his guitar. He had his legs crossed and I could see the bottom of his big toe. It had a very thin layer of dirt from the parking lot and the floors of the dormitory, and it was finally too much for me. I felt my penis getting hard and realized much to my embarrassment that if I didn’t adjust myself it was going to become immediately visible through my shorts.
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