The 43rd Annual Fettig High School Career Fair

Mr. Wehmhoff

Mr. Wehmhoff was never particularly excited to go to Fettig High School. No one is ever thrilled to go to work, and if they are then there was surely something wrong with them. Being employed at a high school was the same as every other job: annoying coworkers, same clientele every year just dressed differently, and similar problems repeating themselves. Once and a while something new would surprise Mr. Wehmhoff, but during his six years in the school district he’d found that most issues could be resolved quickly with little to no impact. One issue that had eclipsed this theory however was named Jackson.

After college, Mr. Wehmhoff had been immediately signed on as a history teacher at the high school. He wasn’t a favorite of the students, but they respected him enough to do their work and put in effort. He also wasn’t a favorite of the staff, but he did what was requested of him and got a fair reputation. Mr. Wehmhoff didn’t even stand out in terms of looks. His 5’11 figure had some meat on the bones and the short curly locks/youthful face combo gave him points, but the smaller-than-average dick brought him down multiple pegs. So when Mr. Wehmhoff was promoted to an assistant principal position, it was a little surprising. 

“Really?” Mr. Wehmhoff had replied, more stunned than honored. “But I’m not even 30?”

“We believe it might be best to hire someone of a younger age who may be more in touch with our students,” one of the other principals replied. “Think of it as a trial run.”

As it turned out to be, the trial was based around a student named Jackson. Mr. Wehmhoff was familiar with the student from one of his history classes, but he hadn’t watched how the high schooler had grown up since. Jackson may have been noticeable as a freshman, but as a senior he was now a force. He had the looks, the attitude, and the crew to follow his every step. They copied his tucked-back hair, they copied his attire, and they unfortunately copied his ideology towards school. It wasn’t long until more and more students were experiencing lower grades due to Jackson’s influence, so it became Mr. Wehmhoff’s mission to find a solution.

Mr. Wehmhoff had already tried multiple tactics. Immediately, he had a lengthy conversation with Jackson in private, but after multiple closed answers and scoffs the assistant principal knew the discussion would go nowhere. He observed from afar, taking field notes like an ethnographic researcher. He even conferenced with other teachers around the state who had experienced similar issues. It wasn’t until someone suggested interviewing one of Jackson’s crew that Mr. Wehmhoff felt like he had found a lead. The idea was a good start: ask the student why they followed Jackson and what they found so captivating about him.

And that was how Jacob had ended up in the assistant principal’s office during the 43rd Annual Fettig High School Career Fair. He sat across from Mr. Wehmhoff, uncomfortable at the questions being asked of him.

“Jacob,” Mr. Wehmhoff tried to sound reasonable. “All I’m asking is why?”

“’Why’?” Jacob muttered. The 18-year-old certainly wasn’t as charismatic as Jackson. Pimples covered a portion of his face, and he hid his runner’s build underneath a bulky sweater and expensive joggers. His body and outfit would have put him as a jock, but his submissive personality damaged that classification.

“Why do you follow Jackson? What makes him so attractive?”

Mr. Wehmhoff had meant the word in a magnetic application, but he was surprised to see the high schooler take it differently. A scarlet blush pierced through Jacob’s cheeks. Realizing what he had done, Mr. Wehmhoff immediately opened his mouth to correct his error, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“I…I need to go-”

Jacob was already out the door before Mr. Wehmhoff could stand up. Quietly muttering a few cuss words, the assistant principal walked to the door and followed the student. He wasn’t going to run in his sweater vest and slacks, but Mr. Wehmhoff was able to speed walk briskly down the halls of the high school. It was thankfully empty from the fair, so finding Jacob wasn’t that hard. The student was sitting alone on a bench in front of the school’s gym, his body facing the glass window looking inside. 

Approaching the 18-year-old like a frightened deer, Mr. Wehmhoff slowly sat down on the other side of the bench.

“Jacob, I-”

“When I ran away I thought my message was pretty clear,” Jacob spat, each word coming out like an individual bullet.

“And when I called you to my office I thought my questions were pretty clear,” Mr. Wehmhoff fired back unprofessionally. He gazed at the boy, who’s own eyes were currently focused on the teenagers working out in the gym. Sensing the boy was close to a breakdown, Mr. Wehmhoff took a deep breath and followed the boy’s example.

“Jacob,” Mr. Wehmhoff started as softly as he could. “My choice of words were insensitive. I didn’t mean to expose you in any sort of way. If that’s something you ever need to talk about, my door is always open.”

Jacob didn’t move.

“But I’m not here to interrogate you, I’m just trying to understand Jackson’s dynamic. I want to understand why you students find him so…” Mr. Wehmhoff carefully annunciated his next word. “engaging.”

The two continued to stare into the gym, watching different high schoolers make their way around the sets of equipment. The silence sat with them for a while, stubbornly not moving from its position on the bench between the 18-year-old and the assistant principal.

“I don’t know,” Jacob finally whispered, finally releasing his tense spine. “Jackson’s just got…he’s got a combination of…engaging things.”

Mr. Wehmhoff delicately turned his head to look at the student. “A combination? Can you go into a little more detail.”

Jacob turned his head to face away from the gym. Mr. Wehmhoff wondered if he was trying to hide another set of pinkened cheeks.

“If you don’t want to talk about Jackson, then let’s pretend I’m someone you would identify as a good leader,” the assistant principal offered. “If I was to be a popular kid at Fettig High School, what would I be like? What would define me?”

Jacob wasn’t entirely convinced of this idea at first, but after another minute Mr. Wehmhoff was happy to see the student’s head turn back to the gym.

“Well, I think you’ve already got the height down,” Jacob remarked. “But another inch would help out just a little more.”

Mr. Wehmhoff nodded, seeing an even 6 foot as reasonable. The women he’d dated had always remarked that he had barely hit the standard by making it just above 5’11, but he’d always taken that as a compliment.

“You’d be much more focused on your body.”

“In what areas?” Mr. Wehmhoff asked, standing up to get a better look at his own stature.

“Uh…” Jacob muttered. “Everywhere?”

“Oh.” Mr. Wehmhoff tried to keep his irritation from leaking into his tone. “Everywhere?”

“Your legs for sure.” Jacob pointed to the poles encased by the assistant principal’s straight pants. “Everyone always jokes about skipping leg day, but you’d make it a priority. You’d have muscular calves that were obviously given special attention, and thick calves from all that time spent curling and raising.”

“Makes sense,” Mr. Wehmhoff remarked, lifting up each of his legs to confirm Jacob’s points. The assistant principal did have a unique passion for leg day, spending an abnormally large amount of time on the machines. His trunks basically made his trousers look desperate to rip open, and unfortunately after a few washes they always would. No matter how tough the fabric, nothing could stand his monstrous legs. Even the pants Mr. Wehmhoff had on now appeared to be in pain trying to hold in all of the mass.

“Gotta work on that chest too,” Jacob answered flatly. “A torso that even out of season is still in its best shape.”

Mr. Wehmhoff rightfully agreed. Although he hadn’t played any sports since his college days, he still coached a few teams at the high school. That meant he had to stay in shape, a shape that would inspire his boys to do the same. He couldn’t help but stare down proudly at his pecs, which forcefully pushed the argyle pattern of his sweater vest out into two mounds. Underneath the pair were the beginnings of a muscle gut, something he’d been afraid of when he was younger but was now proudly making strides towards.

“Oh! Arms too!” Jacob announced. “I’d want you to have arms so bulky that people could hang off of them.”

Mr. Wehmhoff struck a pose for the student, his biceps and triceps creating bulging hills inside of the sleeves of his dress shirt. The assistant principal couldn’t help but gawk at the way his muscles moved, for if he focused enough he could see his own veins move.

“’Want me’?” Mr. Wehmhoff noted, rolling his gargantuan shoulders back to stretch his delts.

“I…I meant I’d follow you…” Jacob quickly corrected. 

“Right,” Mr. Wehmhoff reinforced. He tried to cross his arms over his chest, but he found the maneuver particularly difficult.

“You’d need to have a better style too.”

“Really?” Mr. Wehmhoff replied, thankful they’d gotten off the topic of his body for now.

“At least in high school, people dress how others want to see them, not how they want to see themselves.”

“That’s very intuitive,” the assistant principal replied. Uncrossing his bare arms, he gave the student a thumbs up. He then gave a quick tug to his metal necklace, which was thankfully exposed due to his tight red tank. 

“Style isn’t the only thing other people want,” Jacob huffed, looking back at the gym.

“What do you mean by that?” Mr. Wehmhoff questioned. He followed the high schooler’s gaze while readjusting his long, pulled-back hair underneath a backwards cap, making sure the straight follicles were still fluffed out in the back.

“I…I guess…I mean I…” Jacob stuttered again, the familiar red color flooding his cheeks. This time however, he didn’t turn away. “If you were to be popular at Fettig, people would be…engaged…by you if you had all three major aspects.”

“’Three aspects’?” Mr. Wehmhoff replied. “Like a Triple Threat sort of deal?”

“Yeah, that would make sense.”

“So, what are the three?”

“First off the group,” Jacob sighed. “Gotta have a crowd that follows you everywhere.”

“Reasonable enough.” Mr. Wehmhoff waved off a few of his friends who were approaching from afar. He forgot how hard it was to just have a one on one.

“The looks too.”

“And you’d define that as…”

“Oh, um…” Jacob gulped. “I…I obviously don’t think of guys as um…attractive…but um, if I did…I would say…”

Mr. Wehmhoff listened along as Jacob listed off a large list of items relating to the high schooler’s definition of attractive for a male. While he took in the 18-year-old’s answers, he fidgeted around with a few different things. Ever since he was little, he always needed to do something. Maybe that was why he had always done so poorly in school, but then again he was never the smartest kid anyway. Not only that, but as soon as he hit puberty he was too busy getting laid with some chick every week to do homework. 

No one could resist Mr. Wehmhoff’s beautiful body with his classically-jockish face and body, silky young voice, and 8-inch snake of a cock. He quickly gave his pouch a tug, freeing up his boys as well. Girls were always asking to touch his low-hanging nuts. Those or his Size 14 feet, or get a sniff of his hairy pits, or actually just lick any part of his well-built body. The assistant principal was a ladies’ man, and if the ladies and guys kept coming to him then he wouldn’t stop. Sex was sex, right? If the people wanted him and he wanted the people back, then he wasn’t going to say no! Just, no to girls–Mr. Wehmhoff had come to the realization long ago that only men could properly please other men.

“And third?” the assistant principal asked.

“And…and third?” Jacob’s stutter had switched from one of anxiety to one of nervous excitement. The student only now realizing how perfectly Mr. Wehmhoff represented an embodiment of the word attractive.

“Third…third is the character.”

“The character, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jacob confirmed. “You’d be a high school senior, right? So you’ve got to have all that cocky, confident, hot youthful arrogance that Jackson has.”

Mr. Wehmhoff smiled, cupping the bulge in his loose sweats once again. This time he found himself rather hard, having only now noticed how cute the little twink in front of him was.

“Oh really?” the 18-year-old replied. “And what would my popular name be?”

“Well,” Jacob felt his dick quickly rising. “What’s your first name, Mr. Wehmhoff?”

“Alexander.”

“Then Alex, just Alex.” Jacob nodded his head quickly, tucking his head down in order to stop furiously blushing at the sight of Fettig’s hottest senior in front of him.

“Luckily for you, I do go by Alex already,” Alex responded before stepping right in front of the other boy. “And I’d say I fill your other criteria as well: cocky, confident, and youthfully arrogant.”

Alex then knelt down in front of the other student and placed a meaty hand on Jacob’s bulge. He felt it pulse beneath his fingers, rock hard and begging for release.

“I’m pretty sure you defined those words as ‘hot’ earlier too,” Alex smoothly stated. “Funny, I would’ve used ‘hot’ to describe you.”

Jacob knew it was totally a line, but he was also totally about to blow a load.

“I’ve gotta squeeze in a quick workout, but I’ll meet you in the locker room in half an hour.”

Jacob said nothing as Alex got up and made his way to the gym door. He then grabbed the first set of weights he found and made his way to a machine. Smugly, he began curling his arms up and down, watching the boy squirm outside the glass windows waiting for the thirty minutes to be up.