This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

More Fish in the River

by Feangol

This story was written as an experiment and as "therapy" at a time when I was at a cusp in my life, and I'd realised that closets are pretty lonely and started inviting other people inside. Some of those people drew my attention to the handle on my side of the door, and I've taken a few peeks outside.

Special thanks to It's Only Me from Across the Sea for hosting this story, and to him and my friend Flopot for encouraging me to do it!

This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between the characters in it. Although the characters are teenagers who may be below the age of consent in the country or state where this is read, nothing written here should be taken as approval of, or encouragement for, sexual liaisons between people where such liaisons are either illegal, or objectionable for moral reasons. Although this story does not include safe sex practices, it is everyone's own responsibility to themselves and to each other to engage only in PROTECTED SEX. It is a story. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Nothing represented here is based on any fact known to the author.

The story is copyright 2001 by "Feangol". If you copy the story, please leave the credits, and the web address of present, and also the email address of I'd love to receive feedback.

Chapter 7

On Thursday I saw Luke at Lunch, but he was with a bunch of other Fifth-formers and when I walked over I lost my nerve and kept going past. I didn't know what I was going to say without looking like the young dumb kid I was. I had got a note off my mum to give to Mr Watson and handed it in to him at the staff room, but I wasn't sure I was going to need it.

On Friday I caught up with Luke at morning break time. He didn't see me sitting under my favourite tree as he walked past with his hands in his pockets and his head down.

"Luke!" I called.

He looked up and saw me, and he didn't even smile although he did stop. My heart sank and my there was a chill in my gut.

"Luke are you ok?" I said, actually starting to feel sick with worry.

"Hi Sam" he said flatly.

"Look, I know I've been a bit of a dick Luke, please don't be mad at me ok?"

He looked at me and finally smiled a little. "You're ok Sam. It's a bit hard to explain. I've just got some stuff going on and I can't really tell you about it yet ok?"

I remembered he'd said his dad had died, and I wondered if there was something going on around that which I didn't know about. I felt a little relieved - this could explain things I supposed.

"Sure ok" I said, suddenly feeling a lot happier, and I smiled at him. I wanted to say more, to tell him I thought he was a nice guy, that I really liked him a lot. But boys don't say that sort of stuff without a long run up.

I was rewarded with a real smile back, and for the first time in days I started to feel like I had some interest in what the future held.

Saturday was finally here, and whilst my mother seemed delighted I had at last shown an interest in a girl, I was less than delighted with the experience so far. Chris and I had failed to spot the obvious problem with asking a girl round to "play". Its not like getting a mate around I had rapidly discovered. First she had dissed my posters, then my plastic dinosaurs, and she was rapidly running out of things she hadn't slagged about my room. Each thing commented on was like a piece of me, of my personality and my childhood, and it felt like she was quite callously and systematically destroying me. She was now asking what I did on my computer, and I realised it was time for a serious change of scenery.

"Hey why don't we go down the park?" I attempted to sound cheerful and enthusiastic. "Its raining"

"Oh yeah". Shit. Think. I remembered the pep talk I'd had earlier in the week.

"Ok how about we see what's on at the cinema?" nice save!


Thankyou Chris! She was a nice girl, but we were both a bit unsure of what the procedure was. She could have sounded more enthusiastic though.

I phoned up the cinema automated booking line and repeated all the films, and after an annoying debate about what we wanted to see, ended up going to see some soppy film I can't even remember the title of. It was a disaster. Somehow I ended up paying for everything - the films the snacks the works. I wasn't poor but I really resented getting ripped off. I mean - how does that work? Why does the guy have to spend the money? I sat there fuming for about 30 minutes and then that daft film must have got to her and she started trying to come on to me. First she took my hand and tried to put it up inside her short skirt on her leg a few times. I took it back and after about four or five attempts I thought "what the hell" - after all, the point of this was to prove I was straight so I might as well act it. After feeling up her leg under her skirt for a while I was getting seriously bored and took my hand back and she started leaning into me. Obviously I was meant to put my arm around her, so I did but she wasn't satisfied to stop there. After about ten minutes she suddenly grabbed hold of my crotch, causing me to cry out in some pain and making me throw my popcorn over the floor. She was desperately apologetic, and even started to cry, but not too much. We were starting to draw attention by this point and I just wanted to be able to call the mothership and teleport the hell out of there. I managed to calm her down and thought we could just stick out the last half hour of the movie. But apparently she had not caused me enough embarrassment, and on two further occasions I caught her wrist as her hand started sliding along the top of my thigh. It was like Thing in the Munsters - it had a life of its own, slithering towards my crotch while she feigned concentration on the movie. I was somewhat relieved when she again took my hand and placed it on her thigh, thinking that at least this way I was a little more in control. I watched the movie while she occasionally took my wrist and slid my hand up and down her upper thigh. The final straw came when I became aware of a slightly hairy kind of nasty dampness under my fingers, and in a moment of instantaneous deduction realised exactly where my hand was. I snatched my hand back with a cry and stood up, as complaints started coming in from around us. Thoroughly disgusted and not a little humiliated I stormed out of the cinema and into the toilets, where I attempted a sterilisation of my hand using copious amounts of soap and water. Had that not worked I may well have bitten it off at the wrist if I could have brought myself to get my mouth near those fingers.

When I went back outside there was no sign of Judy, and I decided that a girl who wore no underwear could harbour few illusions about a gentleman escorting ladies home after such disastrous encounter. Since there were no motherships around to my knowledge, I caught the bus the hell out of there.

My mum was a little surprised to see me back so soon and asked me how it had gone.

"I hate girls, they're bloody crazy!" I almost shouted and slammed the refrigerator door after retrieving a can of coke.

My mum looked at my thin frame quivering with emotion as I broke the seal on the can and gulped it down. "Oh dear, perhaps I better get your father then." She said, quietly.

Like a bucket of ice water in my face, her small disappointed voice made me realise that in a manner of speaking, if you really stretched the point she too could be considered to be a girl. I watched her walk out to the garden where my dad was working and she came back inside.

"Sorry mum" I said, my head hanging with shame at my outburst.

"Ok darling, but I think you need a man to man talk here" she smiled, not entirely patronisingly.

My dad came into the kitchen and washed his hands in the sink. Mum quietly went upstairs.

"Well Sam, your mum says things didn't seem to go too well this afternoon." Said my dad.

I looked at him avoiding his eyes. He was wearing that coarse-knit dark green jumper with the holes in he always wore when gardening since I could remember.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Dunno" I said, not really sure if I did or not.

"So did you make it to the film?"

"Yeah. It was rubbish."

"Is that where this went wrong? You argued about the film or something?" he asked.

"No we saw the film. Well most of it anyway."

"Well did you do something to upset her?" he asked. I pondered this a minute then I realised he thought I'd made an unwelcome move on her. It was so ironic I almost laughed. He could see my mood lighten a little and smiled encouragingly.

"Come on Sam it can't have been that bad surely?"

"Worse" I growled.

I sat there with my dad's concerned gaze on me. I thought he only wanted to hear how Daddy's horny little hetero offspring had somehow failed with his first actual date so that he could help me fix it for next time. Only there wasn't going to be a next time I suddenly realised. The date with Judy had accomplished that at least - I realised that whilst I liked girls as friends, as sex objects they really freaked me out. It was probably a good thing Judy had been such a nympho - at least it had only taken one date to find out how I really felt about girls, and I now considered the money I'd had to lay out a total bargain. At least it avoided the unpleasantness with age checks and so forth at the whorehouse, I thought uncharitably and immediately felt guilty at such an unkind thought. Many boys would have been delighted to date Judy.


Not many.

Most boys would have. I wasn't like most boys...

"Well there's plenty more fish in the sea" dad said.

Or in the river I thought to myself, as the implications of not liking to feel up girls started to sink into my thick skull.

Read More Stories by this Author
Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead