Beautiful cocks in speedos

That blog title by itself will triple the page views for this post.  It's still very chilly here (-28 C overnight, -15 C in the day time), so I am dreaming of a warmer location with hot guys like the ones pictured here.

I never tire of looking at pictures of men in Speedos.  It's amazing to think that there's just that thin, stretchy bit of fabric clinging to their cocks and balls;  no wonder gay men love Speedos so!

Now for today's "gay" story:
On the first day of classes, a student in my new grade 9 class looked like the stereotypical surly, angry, biker chick.  She had shredded jeans, her hair shaved high above her ears but long on top, goth-type makeup and spiky metal jewelry.  She sat there sullenly, ignoring the lesson, drawing graffiti with blue ink and permanent marker all over the exposed skin of her arms and through the shreds of her jeans.  I wondered if she was the sort of girl who would self-harm.

After about 20 minutes, I said: "Breanna, will you be doing any work today?" and she ignored me.
Later, she beckoned me over with a crooked finger and whispered like a timid mouse:  "Can we talk in the hallway?"  I said:  "Of course!"  She turned out to be the sweetest, shyest girl I'd ever met.  She said: "You can call me anything you want except for Breanna.  I don't care what." 

I said: "No problem!" and after some discussion, we settled on "Bree."  And then she added:  "And, I go by another pronoun."  I said, "No problem!" and we chatted a bit but since I had 30 goofy, remedial level students alone in the classroom, I said that we really had to go back to class.

For the remainder of the class, Bree continued to do no work at all but smiled at my shyly.  When the bell rang, the goofy boys thundered out (school was over for the day!) but she lingered until the room was empty.

Buddy Bear:  "I like your earrings!"   (she wore Pride striped earrings shaped like buttons)  That simple remark was like opening the floodgates.  She launched into her 'coming out' story.'
Bree:  "Thank you!  I came out to my parents awhile ago.  I was so scared!"
BB:  "How did it go?"
Bree:  "Well, they're Christian, so not well.  My Dad started quoting the Bible at me!"... (grimaced)
BB:  "But they're getting used to it now?"
Bree:  "Yes, they're better now.  But I was so nervous!"
BB:  "I admire you tremendously.  It takes so much courage to do that.   I came out to my parents when I was 47!"
Bree:  (her eyes nearly popped out of her head)     WHAT?????
BB:  "Yes, I was 47, had three teenage kids and and had been married to a woman for 20 years.   I came out to all of them 4 years ago!.... my wife, my kids, my parents, everyone!

She laughed in disbelief and we continued to talk about "gay" stuff:   her family, my family, our school district's supports for LGBTQ students and the local LGBTQ youth group, which she hadn't heard of.

Bree didn't show up to school for the next several days, so I phoned home.  Her mother said that Bree had been admitted to a local facility dealing with adolescent mental health issues.  The mother seemed highly supportive but deeply concerned about the whole gay thing.  We talked at length and I explained to her that teens sometimes need to figure themselves out; that their gender and sexual identity can be "fluid."

I also briefly told her about my own coming out and how my three teenagers are now doing better than ever.  Bree's mother said that my story was amazing, like "the light at the end of the tunnel."

Within the school, I had a duty to report all this to our principal and the school counsellor and explained to them about the fluid nature of gender identity and sexuality in teens.  On Friday, Bree came to see me again to say that she would not be coming to class today;  she only came to meet with the school counsellor.

It's a story that is still in progress, but I like to think that I am making a difference as a out gay teacher and role model.  I just hope that Bree and her family get through this without her coming to harm;  dropping out, getting involved with drugs or committing suicide.