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(AN: this is a complete rewrite/reimagining of an older story 'Permissive Fantasy II' (uploaded long before the term 'freeuse' was coined) that I spontaneously threw together, taking out the bisexual elements and expanding on the action. I was truly kidding myself back then, thinking I was both bisexual and vers, but at least I was ahead of the 'freeuse' curve.)

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Every week, one of our usual gym classes was reserved for 'health'. Opinion on whether weekly reminders about drug PSA's and navigating "your future" were worth losing the hour of out-of-classroom sport were mixed at best, ask enough students and you'll hear how skewed the consensus is - unless you ask the seniors. Once anyone you ask turns eighteen things shift towards acceptance pretty quickly. Even the jocks say a classroom isn't too bad when something like sex ed is on the agenda.
Health classes are still split up between the girls and guys. Rumours say the sex ed classes used to be co-ed, but student attention throughout the session was so hard to grab, let alone keep, that they split us up like any other gym class. Now, seniors would tell the following generations, they brought in assistants of wildly varying backgrounds - teachers from other schools, parent volunteers, even adult film actors - theories which held about as much water as the co-ed rumours in the first place. Still, the fact there were rumours at all was enough to inspire almost every one of our imaginations.
All this to say that walking into the classroom today with at least a dozen other hormonal young men had a certain energy to it. Those that were already predisposed to roughhousing and other forms of masculine attention-seeking had come out in full force - loudly bantering and jostling each other, oblivious yet excited for what the much-anticipated sex ex class had in store for them. I don't share the energy, unfortunately. It's not just that I'm not one of the jocks, or that I don't expect there'll be something worth being excited for - just that I doubt it'd be up my alley. The boys' sex ed class has been rumoured to call in only the finest volunteers and porn stars - but I've only ever heard stories of them being exclusively women.
"Alright, boys," a familiar voice broke through the noise. Our usual gym teacher Mr Crewe had entered and was already halfway through the sea of guys, heading for the desk up front. A few loudmouths cheered for the class to be starting, but a casual hand motion from Mr Crewe wordlessly told them to keep it down. Mr Crewe, being in charge of most athletic activity at the school, was appropriately fit. You'd believe he worked out, but you wouldn't pin him as a bodybuilder - I think he could pass as any other teacher until he flexed. He would need to dress the part, of course, but like any other gym class he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts, so he was a little harder to buy him as a history teacher.
"Today's gonna be sex ed, which-"
The boys get rowdy again. A few chairs behind me, some guys I'm pretty sure are on the football team make some loud noises halfway between a laugh and a yell.
"Which," Mr Crew said again, loud enough to remind them to calm down, "I know you've come to expect a lot of. As I said last week, these are still classes that we, as teachers, are conducting for educational purposes."
Some of the guys laugh, jeer a little. Mr Crewe shakes his head a little with the half-smile all teachers get when they aren't technically allowed to agree with a student, or like one of their jokes.
The first chunk of the lesson was more or less covering what we already knew, what the laws were in regards to sexual acts. Now that we're eighteen we're allowed to join that part of society, and part of our education is not only an introduction to the finer details of the acts themselves, but the developing of practical experience.
"- so I've got my wife on her way," Mr Crewe continued, pausing for the expected excited response from the class, "she's been waiting in the staff room but she's happy to help - I know some of you expected six porn stars, but we don't have the budget." The class laughs. Even I chuckle a little.
The lesson continues. Mr Crewe buys time until his wife arrives. She's introduced as Claire. She's pretty. The guys are salivating. Some are already touching themselves. At least there's not nothing for me.
Mr Crewe doesn't waste much time at all. He kisses his wife, then lays her down on the desk. He tells us all about foreplay, and starts taking off her clothes. My classmates lean in. Mr Crewe points out the parts of the female sexual organs. He shows us where on them his wife likes to be touched. He demonstrates. He leans across the table and shows us where his fingers should be inside her. I can't say it doesn't arouse me a little. He could be showing us on anyone, to be honest.
"Max," Mr Crewe suddenly says. I blink. He's looking at me, not concerned but maybe a little confused. "You with us?"
"Yeah?" I answer. I didn't think I was zoning out that badly. I heard him trail off halfway through his sentence about the clitoris, I was at least paying some attention-
"You can be a little excited, you know," he grins. "No-one else is in trouble. Yet." With the last word he glares at one of the jocks in the back of the class, who laughs. I see he and some other students are sitting on their desks now, visibly engrossed in the show.
"Sorry," I say.
"No need to be sorry," Mr Crewe says. "Something the matter?"
Someone mutters a joke just too low for me to make out, and some guys laugh. I mentally shake it off. I'm sure half of them know enough to get it.
"Just," I start, unsure of how to put it. "... I'm probably not, uh... using this later in life." Bit of a weak ending, I think to myself.
"You don't have to," Mr Crewe tells me, his smile replaced with a more understanding seriousness. "Would you mind explaining a little more?"
I'm surprised. He's been guiding the whole classroom through all this so far, but he's taking a detour to address my disinterest? I mean, he's even stopped pleasuring Claire, he obviously cares enough to try. Fuck it.
"Well," I say, trying to sound matter-of-fact but hesitating anyway, "I'm kinda... gay, sir."
Some laughter somewhere in the classroom. Mr Crewe's attention snaps their way. "Excuse you," he scolds. The laughter cuts off very suddenly. Mr Crewe looks back to me. "That's no problem, Max, I'm sorry I wasn't aware." He's standing up now, back in teacher mode. His shorts show how much he'd been enjoying his wife.
"You didn't have to be," I say, uncertain, as if I was really asking what difference it would make.
"Well, there's more than one side of this," Mr Crewe says with a subtle gesture to him and Claire, "we can go into as much as we need to get out of it."
The energy in the classroom has shifted. Where there was once unbridled sexual anticipation there was now an air of confusion. I, however, was starting to feel the excitement.
"Yeah?" I ask, daring to believe it.
Before Mr Crewe can respond, a voice speaks up from the back. "What's there to do," someone jeers. Some subdued chuckling. Enough of the students knew Mr Crewe wasn't going to half-smile at jokes like that. Of course, Mr Crewe didn't smile at all, but folded his arms and glared at the student. I glanced back. Of course it's one of the football players.
"You don't know how sex works, Chris?" Mr Crewe asks. More laughter, genuine laughter, this time at the expense of the footballer, Chris Phillips. He tries to dismiss the class's reaction and respond loud enough to overpower them.
"I know how it works," he says, "with guys it's just- it's... it's something else, isn't it?" His confidence had been sapped, and now he was only half-sure of himself.
Mr Crewe smiled again. "'Something else'," he quotes. He turns to his wife and gives a hushed apology for the delay, which she more than understands. During their brief interlude, Claire sits back up and Mr Crewe unties his shorts. He slides them down and off, his shoes long since removed from obstruction. There's nothing between us and him but empty space and a layer of dark blue fabric. His enjoyment hasn't waned.
"Chris, come to the front," Mr Crewe instructs as he returns upright. Chris stands and approaches with the attitude of a student who knows he's about to be made a fool of. "Woman's sexual organs," he continues. "You were paying attention?"
"Yeah," Chris says, almost bitterly, but a little too confused to fully sell it.
"Male ones," Mr Crewe states. With one hand he lifts his shirt and with the other pulls the waistband of his underwear. Before I could blink, if I even could, he pulled the waistband out and under. I stared, barely able to take it all in. His slightly flexing arms, his body the shirt now only half-covers, his hard, hard dick.
"Go on," Mr Crewe said, still staring at Chris. Chris frowns. I can tell he thinks the answer's obvious, that he's thinking of what the trick answer could be.
"Dick," he says, pointing to Mr Crewe's member. Mr Crewe takes it between his fingers to punctuate his explanation. "Balls," he continues, and Mr Crewe's hand cups them in response. Mr Crewe waits for Chris' next answer, but it doesn't come. He's racking his brain, wondering what else there could be. I barely stifle my laughter.
"Are you trying to think of 'something else'?" Mr Crewe asks. We laugh as Chris rolls his eyes, annoyed that his ignorance was on display. Mr Crewe gestures for him to return to his seat, and he does.
"Right - male ones," Mr Crewe repeats. "Max, could you give me a hand?"
I nearly miss what he said entirely, it was so casual an addendum. I awkwardly stand up and, when nobody tells me I misunderstood, walk to the front of the class beside Mr Crewe. It's not often I get to be this close to the man - there's always a table or whatever gym class has scheduled keeping me away. I knew he was taller than me, I knew his flexed arms looked so hot in that sleeveless top, but now I can feel just how strong a presence he has, how electric it was to be so close to him.
"Here," he says, reaching down to my pants. I nearly fumble for my belt in anticipation to comply, but his hands were already working. I let him unhook my belt and he lets me unbutton and unzip my pants. As I pull them down I've almost forgotten the sea of eyes looking up at us from their desks, and as I bend down to get them off completely my faces passes Mr Crewe's cock. He turns to say something to the class but I'm barely listening, his facing away swung his member further away and I stare after it like I missed my one chance. I'm almost brave enough to believe I haven't.
"Now," Mr Crewe says, turning back towards me. He lifts my shirt and gestures again for my action. I pull my underwear down much less gracefully than he did, but I'm now just as on display as he is. "Obviously," he continued, taking my dick in his hand, "you have the penis." He glares at Chris again, mocking his word usage. As soon as his skin touched mine I felt a rush, and felt what he'd taken in his hand twitch. If he noticed, he didn't show. He lets go and instead takes my- "Then there's the testicles," he says, faster than my sex-crazed brain can keep up with, pausing again for Chris' shame, "and what else?" He looks around the class, waiting for an answer. After a few moments, he nearly speaks, but somebody speaks up.
"G-spot?"
Mr Crewe makes a face and waves his hand in a 'sort-of' gesture. I'm not sure who answered, but I think it was one of the guys on the opposite side of the footballers up the back. Mr Crewe gives some explanation about what the term actually refers to, but I'm barely listening. I knew the answer, and I knew the pattern. Mr Crewe lifts up my balls and, with his other hand, brushes against my thighs to ask me to spread them a little further. I adjust my feet and he points to a position underneath. He adds more explanation but I'm too captivated by how close he now is, so close he could-
"Max," he says says, leaning in. His tone is more quiet. He's only asking me. His face is so close. "You wanna go forward or on your back?"
"Uh... I-"
"Is back okay?"
"... yeah."
He's efficient, he's understanding, he knows just how to handle me. I step back and sit on the edge of his desk, where Claire had been draped not so long ago. I vaguely wonder where she's moved to but am more focused on Mr Crewe reaching over, helping me shuffle enough onto the desk that both my feet can rest on its edge. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can see as much as I can of what happens.
"Like I said," he tells the class, "guys don't need a lot of foreplay, but it's still good to mess around with." He goes on about some of the same things he said about Claire, but reworked to pertain to me. He talks about my nipples, my lips, my ears. He talks about my dick. He touches it while he talks about it, strokes it with one hand on my chest. He takes some of the lubricant he'd brought out for Claire and wets his fingers. He holds my knee with one hand as he touches those fingers to my hole, teasing it, preparing it. With a slight adjustment of my knee the only sign I need that it's about to happen, he slides his finger inside. I take in air, feeling him push deeper. He slides it in, then out. He adds another. He says something to the class then looks back to me, straight into my eyes. As I stare back into his serious gaze, he gives his hand another slight push, his knuckles already pressed against me, and his finger finds what it was looking for. I feel it pulse through my body and a noise escapes my mouth. Mr Crewe gives me that half-smile, the satisfied look of someone who wasn't looking after all, but waiting for the right moment to 'find' it. "See that?" he asks the class, and I remember their eyes. Some of them look like I did, not particularly interested but trying to pay attention anyway, but some are looking interested. Those who'd sat on their desks hadn't returned, nor had the stretch in their pants.
Mr Crewe continued, returning to sliding his finger in and out of me. "So it's not all that different. You've got the areas that are stimulated, and different ways to tackle 'em."
One of the other students raises a hand. Mr Crewe points to him with the hand he doesn't still have massaging me, and the student speaks. "It's like, kinda the same, then? As like, fingering a girl?"
"There's not a lot of different," Mr Crew says, and he finally removes himself from me and I gasp again. He pats me on the knee, assuring me it's fine. "Wanna come up here, Robbie?"
Robbie stands up and approaches the desk with more confidence than I did. He's not a footballer, but he's definitely the kind of guy that prefers gym to health class. Nice hair and a pretty face, Robbie always wears his shirt with the top buttons undone, no doubt because he thinks it makes him hot. He's not entirely wrong.
Mr Crewe passes him the lubricant. I watch him show Robbie how much to put on, work it down his finger for him, then reach down with one hand to hold me open for him. Robbie holds my opposite thigh up and slips his fingers inside. I gasp. "Easy," Mr Crewe scolds him, causing Robbie to pull out. "Work your way up." Robbie tries again, with just one finger this time, and I push a little into it. I let my eyes roll up to the ceiling and let myself enjoy the sensation. Robbie adds another finger and I moan a little.
"How're you doing?" Mr Crewe asks me. I realise he's moved to the side of the desk, letting Robbie take the lead. He's leaned over to check on me, and I nod and mutter that I'm doing great. He grins. "That's great, Max, you're doing great." He turns back to the class and says something else, then turns back to me and I notice he's taken off his underwear completely, letting his cock stand naturally out towards me.
"Again, just like with a woman," Mr Crewe adds. He looks down at me and holds up his dick - no, offers me his dick. I move my weight off my elbows and lie against the table, whatever it took to get my mouth close enough. My body shifts away from Robbie's fingers and he holds me steady by the hip.
"Hey- get back here," he mutters, renewing his mission, and the class chuckles. I can barely hear them. My mouth is full of Mr Crewe. I take him as deep as I can, I want as much of his cock as I can get. I angle my neck so I can get some motion and do what I can to please him. He touches the top of my head for a moment, maybe deciding whether to push my head into it, but he seems happy to let me go at my own pace. I enjoy the feeling of his meat inside my mouth, Robbie's fingers tickling my insides, the pressure against my lips and throat to contain Mr Crewe's cock, tasting what I can, feeling what I can.
"Sure," I hear Mr Crewe say, and suddenly he's gone. I feel his cock leave my lips and I all but follow it as he steps aside. I see another appear at the edge of my sight and I redirect, wrapping my mouth around someone new. Another student, from what little I can see of his clothes. I feel Robbie's fingers leave me before re-entering, but I know what's happening. Some more volunteers. Whoever I'm sucking is smaller than Mr Crew but whoever's inside me has longer fingers than Robbie, so I can't complain. I can fit the new guy right down to his balls, and the sound he makes lets me know how good that is. "Shit," he exclaims.
"Men know what men like," I hear Mr Crewe say from behind me. Knowing where he is, I reach around with my nearest hand to find him, and I feel him offer himself to me again. I take his dick in my hand and stroke him in time with whoever's I'm sucking, who's started to thrust a little. The energy I don't spend on doing the motion for him I get to spend on pleasing Mr Crewe with my hand.
Somebody else switches with the person who replaced Robbie. Whoever's been fucking my mouth is replaced by somebody else. The excitement they had at the beginning of the class had given way to uncertainty, but that drive had started to return. Mr Crewe offered somebody to come make use of my spare hand - in the resulting readjustment of our positions to let me reach everybody, I saw the new state of the classroom. Everybody was either sitting on their desk or standing up, several near the desk as if waiting their turn. Some weren't wearing their shirts anymore. A lot of them had their dicks in their hands, staring and even smiling at what we had going on the desk. The guy fingering me was one of the footballers, and the one Mr Crewe had offered my other hand to was Chris. I expected myself to hesitate before taking Chris' member, but I was too deep in the flow. I noticed he hadn't been as hard as the others, but that changed soon enough. Mr Crewe had his hand on Chris' shoulder, encouraging him as they both looked down at me. I looked back at the dick I'd been sucking, that of one of the guys who hadn't seemed that interested before, and gave it the same treatment as before - down to the base, right at the back of the throat. I heard him exclaim and I knew I'd sold him.
"You know, Chris," Mr Crewe said, "it's not too different there, either."
"Where?" Chris asked. He was barely paying attention.
"Here."
I felt them leave my hands, but I didn't try too hard to find them again. "Take five, boys," Mr Crewe said, and I was empty just as quickly as I'd been filled. I take the chance to catch my breath as the guys stand back. I look to see Mr Crewe guide Chris, now shirtless as well, around the desk to where so many fingers had already reached.
"It's tighter, for one," Mr Crewe says, almost to the class but mostly to Chris. Chris is staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face. For a moment I wondered if it was fear, or anger, but it must have been some kind of desire. Mr Crewe stood behind Chris and guided him by the hips to face his dick towards me. He took one of my ankles and lifted it, angling me better, and Chris mirrored him with the other, and switching his gaze between me and himself, just to make sure his aim was right, Chris slid the tip of his dick inside me. If I hadn't been stretched by the class already it may have been a shock, but instead it feels good.
"There you go," Mr Crewe says to him, and he guides his hips to push deeper inside me. I let out a moan and grip the edge of the table. "You like that, Max?"
"Yeah," I manage to get out.
"Yeah?" Chris asks, sounding surprised but relieved. I nod and he starts to thrust, clearly more confident, now. I lean back as he fucks me with increasing machismo, his breathing still a little erratic. He leans further over me and I see his knitted brow, a strain in his jaw as he flares his lips. The guy thinks he's a porn star. I'd laugh if I wasn't enjoying it.
"Hey, there, slow down," Mr Crewe says. Chris does as he's told, almost too well. He slows almost to a stop, like he's waiting for the signal to start again. "Here," Mr Crewe says. He takes Chris' free hand and makes him take my other leg, now holding me up himself as Mr Crewe disappears behind him. Chris looks back to see what's happening, then turns back suddenly as he pushes into me again - or rather, is pushed into me. The look on his face tells me everything.
Mr Crewe starts fucking Chris, slowly. Between his thrusts and grip on Chris' hips, he makes him fuck me at the same rhythm. Chris leans even further forward, flattening his body against mine, his face so close. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open, his mind a thousand miles away. I envied him in that moment, having Mr Crewe so deep inside him, but at the same time I was grateful for his every thrust into me as it brought me as close to the same experience as I could be.
I barely got a chance to watch Mr Crewe fuck Chris behind him before he stepped aside, patting Chris on the back, clearly happy with his performance. He turned to face the class and said something else, maybe asked somebody something, but I could barely hear him. Chris was fucking me so good, his face beside mind, his breath in my ear. Then, another pat on the back. Chris was all but picked up off me by another student, at Mr Crewe's suggestion. He was being replaced. Another guy, the footballer who'd been playing with me earlier, was tagging in. His shirt and pants were already gone, and he looked eager to get inside. He held me steady and positioned himself, and as per Mr Crewe's limited instructions, fucked as well as he could. He leaned forward, smiling at me. "Yeah?" he asked, in a tone that didn't need an answer. I breathed one anyway, letting him know how good we had it.
I don't know how many guys went through me, it was a blur. I could hear Mr Crewe giving advice and keeping things moving along, but all I knew for sure was that every now and then somebody else would be entering me. The guy who'd mentioned the 'g-spot'. Robbie. What felt like the whole football team.
I let myself drift for what felt like both a minute and an hour, enjoying every second, but every now and then I wouldn't see the guy leaning over me, fucking me - I'd see that moment when Chris had been inside me, and Mr Crewe had been inside him. I still felt jealous, so jealous that someone else got to experience what I'd only had a taste of - literally. Still, watching him fuck had been its own form of pleasure. I replayed it in my head. I watched his arms tense as he gripped Chris' hips, the arc his body made as it gyrated inside him, the occasional flex that ran down his body. I had loved to watch him work, even if it wasn't on me.
Finally, after what was surely most of the class, Mr Crewe seemed to have explained everything he'd planned to. He patted the guy on top of me now, one of Chris' friends, who pulled himself out and stepped away. I looked up - there wasn't anyone else to replace him.
"We're actually almost out of time," Mr Crewe was telling the class. "That took longer than I thought - I mean, we stayed on this longer than I thought."
He kept talking about wrapping up, tying up as many loose ends as he could. Most of the other students were pulling their clothes back on, some looking more satisfied than others.
"Anyway," Mr Crewe said, the tone of finality in his voice that let me know it would be the last thing he would say in teacher-mode for the class, kicking off my disappointment, "pack up and clean up, the last few minutes I'll just be taking care of Max, so anyone who wants to go, feel free."
What? Did I hear that correctly? Mr Crewe turned back to me and, putting a hand on my thigh, gave me the same casually inquisitive look he gave when he asked if he could lay me on my back. "You good with that?"
I nearly forgot to answer. "Oh, yeah." I couldn't believe I said it like that. I thought for sure somebody would laugh, but if they did I couldn't hear it. Mr Crewe gave a smile and took me by my waist, pulling me back to the table's edge. I was vaguely aware of some students leaving while others had just moved for a better view. I was very aware of Mr Crewe, my gym teacher, finally pulling off his shirt in front of me. He grabbed - he held my hips just right as he guided his dick to my tired but hungry hole, and paused. He looked me right in the eyes.
"Remember this one?" he asked, and just like his finger before, he looked right at me as he pushed his dick inside me, deeper, not stopping - I gasped, not breaking away from his gaze. He smiles, all too proud of what he could do to me. "Gets you every time," he chuckles. I do, too. He looks down to make sure he's positioned himself right and slowly slides back out. He pushes back in and - yes, yes, he's fucking me, he's finally fucking me.
"Why not get one of the jocks," I manage to ask - half joking, half wondering why give me what feels like such special treatment.
"Well," he said, timing his thrusts almost comedically around his words, teasing me - "since I sent my wife back to the staff room, I've gotta get it somewhere." He leans forward, his face so much closer to mine. "And you're as good as any, aren't you." The look in his eye and tone in his voice tells me I'm so much better.
He starts putting more strength into it, pounding me harder and faster. I can't help but moan, his name almost on my tongue but too out of breath to manage it. His eyes close and I see him, feel him enjoy it, enjoy being inside me and making me feel this incredible.
"Yes," I manage, breathless, "yes-!"
"Yeah," he growls, leaning closer towards me, "that's it." He puts his weight onto me. His chest is inches from my chest, his self-satisfied grin close enough to my gasping lips he could kiss me. "You want this?" he asks. His eyes bore into mine.
"Yes. Fuck-"
"You want me to make you cum?"
"Fuck, yes-"
His lips are on mine. My tongue is against his. His arms are holding me steady and his body is pumping his hard dick into me, just deep enough to hit me where I need it.
"Ah-" I gasp. My hand finds my cock and I start stroking it. There's barely enough room between our bodies for me to get the motion. I'm so close, and he can tell, I know it. He releases my mouth and makes sure he's given me enough room, pumps faster, his face strained in concentration and exertion. Every hit sends another pulse through my body. "Ahh," I moan, I'm so close. I feel him inside and outside and he's watching me, knowing I'm about to burst, the smile already creeping back onto his face...
The shockwaves course through my body. I feel my dick release what feels like gallons of hot liquid, my hole tighten uncontrollably around Mr Crewe and my fingers dig deep into his shoulders, where I register I'd been holding him. He lets out a groan that sounds like a laugh, loving my pleasure, and as the my body slows its spasms, he begins his own. His hot breath on my neck, his weight on my chest and his cock so deep. He thrusts a few more times, irregular and almost desperate, and lifts his head as he comes, too. He moans, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy, still so close to me. Mr Crewe just fucked me.
He lies on top of me for a moment, both of us catching our breath, before he pulls himself back up, smiling. "How was that," he asked, a hint of his teacher voice returning.
"So fucking good," I say.
Mr Crewe looks around. "How about you, all?"
General sounds of consensus. I look up, seeing the room for the first time since Mr Crewe had taken me. A bunch of my classmates, almost half the class had surrounded us, had watched the whole thing. Among them were Robbie, Chris' friend who'd been surprisingly excited to join, and Chris himself, looking at us with what I could almost believe to be the same jealousy I'd looked at him with. For me, or Mr Crewe, I couldn't tell.
"Right," Mr Crewe said, sliding himself out of me. "You'd all better hit the showers before your next class."
"What about you, sir?" another guy asked. His friend laughed, elbowing him.
Mr Crewe smiled and shook his head. "Staff bathroom for me, boys. Don't know if you remember, but I blew off my wife for this."
The guys laugh, and I join in. Mr Crewe has already started pulling his underwear back on. I imagine what he's suggesting he's going back to Claire for, what he wants, what she gets. I wonder if I'll get it again someday.
I'm sure I could try.