My first ever erotic story I wrote, re-edited with ages changed so that I can reupload it. **No age is mentioned in this story and for all we know all characters are 18 or above for the story.** It’s full of tropes, but there’s also a few surprises here and there. I hope you like it.

Chapter OneAll throughout middle school, I had hated the name Adam Watson. It was a name the school bullies had become all too familiar with, and it became a name I figured was cursed, and I too for having it. They always liked to give me increasingly bizarre reasons for their bullying – “Adam can’t talk to girls, he must like men,” “Adam still wears tighty-whities,” “Adam doesn’t like looking at porn,” crap like that. I knew their true reason for picking on me – I was just another geeky, socially awkward kid who had a tendency to talk in a way considered too ‘proper’ for middle school, and an inability to talk to girls. The ‘proper’ talk was how my parents raised me. The inability to talk to girls, well, that was just a gift from God.

The bullying got so bad that eventually I stopped going outside for recess, I stopped talking to people during my classes, and eventually I stopped talking to people. As far as middle school went, it was an easy solution that was basically foolproof. But by the time I had gotten to high school, I found out that my luck had drained away.

After I plead and plead to my parents, I was transferred to a high school far away from my old middle school. There were none of my old bullies in sight, but as I had learned in the first few weeks of grade nine, socialization was a bit more key. I was talking to people, but shyly, quietly and I’m sure what could be seen as begrudgingly. However, that all changed quickly.

It was a cool-ish October morning when I was woken by my mother’s bellowing voice.

“Adam! Get up! You’re going to miss the bus!”

Shit. Had I slept through my alarm? A lazy opening of one eye and a peek at my digital clock answered that question with a jolt of panic. I bolted upwards, jumped out of my bed and pulled on the closest shirt I could see. As I found and put on a pair of pants, I inspected myself in the mirror.

Nothing special, to be expected. A lanky, almost gangly teen stared back at me, his longish dirty blond hair flopped over his head, just enough that you couldn’t see his piercing green eyes, something I was told once was my best feature. Mind you, my grandma told me that, so I wasn’t exactly going to call that the popular vote quite yet. I grimaced slightly at the state of my hair and what I saw as a skinny, unattractive body. The baggy shirt I had randomly picked helped a bit, I reasoned to myself. I shook my head, pushed my hair out of my face and raced downstairs.