Tim was 15 years old, a sophomore at William Blake High School. Since the start of the school year, he’d sucked 79 schoolmates. No sophomores, freshman boys only. Tonight would be schoolboy #80. Twenty to go.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “I’m so sick of sucking cock.” Technically not true: what he hated was the effort involved in getting cock in his mouth. Sucking cock, he liked.

He’d never sucked a boy before September 4th. Not that he didn’t want to. But discovering this strange ability over the summer put that desire in reach. Giddy with excitement, he’d made a pact with his higher power to repay the gift by sucking 100 freshman boys in 100 days. In truth, the freshman decision came later. He considered himself queer as his sister Mina’s Hello Kitty training bra and panties. A boy so queer deserved the emasculation of sucking 9th grade boys. Every boy, at least a year younger than he. No one below the age of 14, of course.

Tonight’s choice was Tyler Deardan. Tyler was special. I should have left him for last, Tim thought grumpily. Tyler was Principal Deardan’s youngest son. Get your ass home, bring up the next name in line and reschedule Tyler last. Asshole!

He closed the bedroom door. I’m in Tyler’s bedroom tonight, for a reason, he thought. Tyler shared trig with Dylan Corbett, and Dylan suggested he keep Tyler in place as cock #80. Dylan said Tyler was deeply closeted, secretly longing for cock, and to have his ass fucked. Someone in school intended to out the boy. If that happened, Tyler might disappear from William Blake High School real quick. A parameter of the pact was that any selection must be a Blake student. No indulging, Tim: keep it Blake Blue.

Tim locked the door. Then he undressed. He stood 5’4” tall, and weighed 118 lbs. He weighed less than his 14 year old sister. (11 year old Mina weighed 98 lbs.) He had the smallest cock of any boy his age. Another emasculation factor. Painfully erect, his cock barely tipped 3-1/2” long. His hated tiny erection and minuscule balls. Peanuts, he called them. With the exception of 2 boys, every cock he’d sucked since September 4th was bigger than his. The exceptions were fatter, though.

“I need counseling,” he muttered. “Who willingly sucks 100 cocks in 100 days? What the fuck is wrong with you, Tim?”

Kneeling, he patted Tyler’s shoulder. “Roll over, Dude. Onto your back. That’s good.” He slipped his hand beneath the covers and found Tyler’s cock. He was hard as a railroad spike, and equally long. “Holy fuck,” he muttered. “Who are you dreaming about?” More loudly, he whispered: “Don’t wake up, Dude.”

Throwing back the covers, Tim grabbed the waist of Tyler’s pajama bottoms and pulled them down and off. Tyler was naked beneath. He wore a Freddy Mercury T-shirt. His erection was beautiful. “Holy fuck,” Tim repeated. Curious, he asked Tyler: “Who are you dreaming of, dude?”

Tyler muttered a name. “No way,” Tim muttered. “Repeat that?” Tim heard his name muttered again. “Tim who?” he asked edgily.

“Tim Kelly.”

“I’m Tim Kelly!” he whispered incredulously. “You’re dreaming about me? From school? That Tim Kelly?”

Tyler nodded.

“Holy fuck,” Tim repeated a third time. “What are you--” Doing to me, he almost said. “What are we doing, Tyler?”

“You’re kneeling next to my bed. You pulled my pants off--my pajama bottoms, I mean, and you’re asking me questions.”

Tim reared back on his calves. “What?” he croaked.

Tyler both nodded, and shook his head. “You’re naked, and I more or less am.” He chuckled softly. “Jesus, I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

Tim stared at him bug-eyed. “Why?” he blurted.

“Because I have a hard on, and you’re the reason why. And you’re staring at it!”

Tim never had a boy talk to him before. He blushed furiously. Did Tyler know how fucking small he was? He knew he was naked. “How do you know this, Tyler?”

Tyler looked puzzled. “I’m dreaming it, of course.”