This story is a work of fiction, meaning it did not take place.  It contains sexual content involving persons under the age of consent which may be inappropriate for you or illegal where you live.  If this is the case, please read no further.  I do not condone the actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story. 

Comments should be directed to Mark Adams.

...From the last chapter...

He stood in front of me on the step of the pool and I saw his water soaked suit was pressed against his crotch.  I couldn't determine the size or shape of his equipment because of the folds of the garment, but I could definitely tell he was a boy.  He reached down under the legs of his shorts and ran his fingers along the liner, getting everything back in place.  I shook my head with the realization that my hand had just been in those trunks a couple minutes earlier and I hadn't touched his stalk.

Well, there's always tomorrow...

Into Ian - Chapter 2

Lying in bed that evening, I could hear Bonnie breathing gently beside me, her conscience obviously clear.  I'd fucked Bonnie hard, releasing the sexual tension that had built up throughout the day, with images of Ian filling my head.  I pawed at Bonnie like I had Ian.  I even tried taking her in the ass before she protested.  When we were finished, she was grinning and breathing heavily, and she asked what had gotten into me.  That was twice in one evening which, while not unheard of, was considerably less common in recent years.

The guilt came rolling into my mind, creeping up on me in waves.  For the first time in my life, I had crossed the line.  No, several lines, actually, and all within the space of a few hours, and yet I was already planning for the next time...

I tried to justify what happened in my mind, and I even tried to blame Ian for what had transpired.  I knew children had sexual feelings and desires, but Ian's antics were off the charts.  And it crossed my mind that I hadn't seen anything sexual between Ian and Josh.  So what did that say about me?  Was I so obviously attracted to younger boys that Ian felt comfortable seducing me? And did others see the same thing?  That couldn't be, I thought.  People trusted me with their children and I trusted myself with them.   Well, until that day, of course.

No matter how I tried to justify it, in the end I had crossed the line.  Me, the adult.  I could have stopped it all at any time, and I should have.  But I couldn't.  Where was the self control that had gotten me through 15 years of marriage?  Fifteen years of respecting all of the boundaries, and now I could never say that again.  And what if Ian told someone?  His Mom or Dad.  Or Josh?

"Oh, God, what have I done?" I asked myself, barely a whisper, rolling over on my side.  Only Tigger heard me, and I heard his tags jingle as he came over to the side of the bed, placing his chin up on the edge.  I rubbed his nose and his tongue sneaked out onto my palm.  I flipped back over onto my other side where, in the dim light, I could see Bonnie's silhouette.  She knew, of course-- just not everything.  But how much?

I wondered what would happen if Ian told.  I would have to deny the accusation, of course, because of the consequences, though I'd certainly lose my job anyway.  But were my actions so great a transgression that it warranted prison?  I tried to convince myself Ian wouldn't tell anyone because he wouldn't want to be seen as 'gay' by anyone.  And I somehow found a little comfort in that sick thought.  "I'm a fucking sociopath," I ridiculed myself.  I tossed and turned, these thoughts churning through my mind like a bad storm, until I eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

I dreamed I was teaching class and that I was difficulty getting through my lesson.  I was standing at the blackboard, showing the class how to work through a calculus problem, but I kept getting everything wrong.  I couldn't tell at first what was causing me to be distracted, but when I looked back to the front row, I noticed Ian was sitting in his desk wearing only a Speedo, raising his hand.  The white drawstring was clearly displayed against the light blue swimming suit, which was stretched in front by an enormous, flaccid boy cock.  The suit was dry except for the area around the head of his penis, which was damp.  I somehow knew he had just returned from the bathroom, and a drop of pee had soaked through his Speedos making the tip of his dick somewhat visible through the thin material.

"Yes, Ian?" I called, noticing there were no hairs in his armpit as he lowered his raised hand.

"May I give it a try?"

"Give what a try?" I asked him.

"The math problem," he giggled, standing from his desk. I looked around the classroom, concerned the other students might notice this boy was only wearing a very small swim suit.  The others seemed oblivious to the situation, and so my attention returned to Ian.  Or, more precisely, to the wet tip of his penis as it showed through the suit.  He reached down and fumbled with the drawstring, gently pulling the Speedo forward a little, and I could see his tan line clearly. 

"Uh... sure, Ian," I stuttered.

He giggled again and stepped toward me, extending his hand.  I handed him the piece of chalk and he stepped toward the chalkboard.  From behind, I could see a little of his ass cheeks peeking out below the leg of his Speedos as leaned back against his desk. He began writing figures on the blackboard, but I couldn't tell if he was solving the problem correctly because I was distracted by his bum.  His hand slid down his side, and his left hand slipped under his suit atop his bottom, pushing the material down slightly from the top of his ass.  His hand shifted under the stretchy fabric to his hip and I could hear the chalk scratching and squeaking on the board.

At that moment, I looked down to my lap and noticed my pants were unzipped and my cock was sticking out the front, precum oozing down the front of my shaft.  My hand was gripping my shaft tightly and I immediately became aware that I was masturbating myself in a room full of prepubescent students.  I don't ever recall being harder in all my life.

I looked up when I noticed the sound of the chalk against the board had become quiet.  "Ewww..." Ian exclaimed.  "Look what Mr. Adams is doing!" he said to the whole class. 

"Pervert!" I heard Jason, the class troublemaker say.  He was somehow standing next to me.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Heather from the seat next to me. "He's beating his meat!"

Ian moved back toward me.  "Don't worry, Heather.  He won't touch you.  You're a girl, and he only fucks little boys.  Isn't that right, Mr. Adams?" 

"No!" I screamed.  "I don't, I'm not..."

"He touched me," Ian announced to the class.  "Yesterday.  In his pool.  He stuck his dick in my ass."

"NO!" I cried.  "I didn't do..."

"Let's kick his ass," called Jason.  "Come on, guys!"  I felt dozens of pairs of hands hoisting me from the desk, pulling me to the cool tile floor.  Jason grabbed my exposed  and erect cock, pulling it angrily downward and pulled a knife from his pocket.  "Let's cut his dick off," he said angrily, and I heard the class cheer him on.  My arms and legs were pinned and Ian sat across my chest and, despite my situation, I noticed  I was still very erect as Ian pushed his Speedo into my face.

"Go on, dirty old man.  Suck my cock!"  Ian pressed his damp crotch into my face and I could smell the faint scent of urine and Lycra.  From the corner of my eye, I saw Bonnie, standing there by the classroom door shaking her head, her arms wrapped around Josh.  His head was bent down but I could see tears running down his face.

"Help me!" I called out to them.  "Help!"

"There's no help for you," Bonnie said sadly as she pulled Josh away toward the door.

Ian scooted down my chest a bit and leaned down toward me, his face so close I could feel his hot breath on my face.  "There's no help for you, Mr. Adams.  None at all..."  I could feel someone jerking me off down below, and the sound of children laughing and taunting.  I tried holding back, but I felt my orgasm approaching as I felt something enter my ass. A finger perhaps?

"I'm not a pervert!" I called out to the room, but at that moment I felt my cock start to spasm.

"Oh, fuck!  The faggot's cumming on my hand!" I heard Jason exclaim, sounding both excited and disgusted at the same time.

As I pumped wave after wave of cum, Ian leaned forward, his mouth up next to my ear.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Adams."  And then, he licked my nose.  Why would he do that?  Behind him, I saw Jason holding his cum-soaked hand in front of him.

"Oh, that's just disgusting," I heard Jason saying.  "His cum is all over me.  That's it.  I'm cutting his dick off."  I felt some twinge of pain on my cock, and I knew he was going to do it.

"Ian!" I called.  "Don't let him!"  Ian just leaned back in to kiss me, but again he licked my face instead.

I awoke, crying, my head full of cobwebs.  I was lying on my stomach with Tigger licking my nose from the side of the bed.  I sputtered and pushed him away from me and lifted my head.  I heard the sound of the shower as I reoriented myself to my surroundings.  I moved to sit up in and noticed my flannel sleep shorts were soaked with cum.  "What the hell?" I thought.  It had been years since I'd had a wet dream, and they'd never been that kind of dream.

I got out of bed, slipping my shorts off and swabbing my sopping crotch with them.  I moved over to the dresser and pulled out a new pair of shorts and slipped them on.  I went back to the bed and cleaned up the mess I'd made with the old shorts and made the bed. For some reason, I didn't want Bonnie coming out of the shower and discovering I'd had a wet dream.  I went out to the laundry room, still in a daze, and placed my shorts in the bottom of the laundry hamper.  I felt like a teenager again, with all the guilt and confusion that came along with it.

I was still in a haze, pondering the dream as I padded into the kitchen.  Josh was sitting in his boxers at the breakfast table, finishing a bowl of cereal when he saw me come in.  "Mornin', Dad." he said.

"Good morning, Josh."

"How'd you sleep?" he asked as he lifted the bowl to his mouth, drinking the last of the milk.  I noticed how similar his body was in many ways to Ian's and I felt dirty.  I could see the fly of his boxers was slightly open, as boxers often are, but from this distance I couldn't see anything.  I averted my eyes and reached into the cabinet to get a bowl and set it on the counter.

"Not well," I told him.  "I had bad dreams."  He stood from the table, bringing his bowl to the sink and rinsed it. 

"Really?" he asked. He put the bowl in the dishwasher as I stood at the counter, images of the dream fading but flashing in my mind.  "Did you have a nightmare?"  he asked as he moved over to me and put his arm around my torso.

"Yeah," I told him.  "I guess I did."

"Tell me about it," he said.

"I can't really remember," I lied as I turned around to hug him.  At that moment, I noticed his nose wrinkled slightly and he looked down toward the matted bit of hair I had below my belly button.  He hugged me, but made sure he didn't press himself into my cum stained belly.  I didn't know how acute his sense of smell was or if he knew what that smell was, but I could have died.

He turned around, though, and leaned his back into me despite the crustiness there.  I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his taut belly.  "Rub your belly for luck?" I asked.  This was sort of a ritual for us, one so old I couldn't exactly remember the origin except that it had something to do with his once chubby belly and Buddha.  As I rubbed his belly, feeling his little six pack, he reached up with his left hand and moved my right hand down further, just below his belly button and sort of holding it there, the tips of my fingers against the waistband of his boxers.  This was not part of the ritual and I was a little confused.  My mind briefly flashed to Ian, sitting on my chest in my dream, but I pushed that thought away quickly.  I started to move my hand, but he pressed it slightly to keep it there.

I looked down past his chest and I could see my son, my Joshua, had what appeared to be a little firmness that pressed his Tasmanian Devil boxers out at the buttonless fly.  I was mortified with the thought that his penis looked as if it was about to pop out of his boxers.  "Ian's nice, huh?" he asked me.

"Um, sure," I replied.  "He's a nice boy.  I'm glad you've got a new friend.  Are you missing Jimmy?"  I asked him, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah," he said, but I felt he wasn't being quite honest.  As a father, you just know these things.  He reached up briefly with his right hand and adjusted his penis so that it was sort of pointing off to the right, saved from popping out the fly, but not from creating a little bulge, and I could tell he was probably at least half erect.  As I've said, I've never been sexually attracted to my son, but of course I'd been curious about how he was developing; that's only natural.  But I could feel a stirring in my groin that scared me to death.  Was he thinking of me or Jimmy?  Or Ian?  Surely it wasn't me.  Was he just entering that period in his life where his penis grew with no discernible explanation?  Was I thinking of Ian or Josh?

"I need to get ready, son."  I patted his tummy beneath my hand and squeezed his shoulder lovingly with my left hand.

"Me, too," he said and released my hand.  He headed off for the stairs quickly, pressing at his groin as he scampered off.

I lingered there a few moments, leaning against the counter, thinking about my life.  I had worked very hard to build a 'normal' life for myself, for my wife.  And for my son.  And there I was, pressing my slightly fluffed cock down after a bizarre interaction with Josh.  I couldn't blame it on sexual frustration-- I'd reached a point where sex two or three times in a week was a great week and yet I'd cum several times in the last 24 hours, including an embarrassing wet dream not 30 minutes earlier-- and a rape dream at that.  I felt as if I were on some scary theme park ride I could not control; that I didn't seem to want to control.  After all these years, had I just been repressing my emotions toward my son?  It just didn't feel right to me, and I was certain I was just transferring my new and confusing, uncontrollable feelings for Ian onto my son.  Maybe I was going through some sort of mid-life crisis or something.  Or maybe a nervous breakdown.  Whatever it was, I didn't feel I was really in control anymore.

I decided I wasn't really hungry, so I put my bowl back into the cupboard and headed back to the bedroom.  As I entered the master bedroom and turned toward the sitting area, Bonnie was getting dressed, facing the mirror in just her panties.  She was putting on her bra, but looked up into the mirror as I rounded the corner.  I smiled at her and she smiled back at my reflection before returning her attention to the task at hand.

"How did you sleep, honey?" she asked me.  Oh, I didn't even want to go down that road, but the shock of the dream had already mostly worn down.  I stared at her ass, nice and firm, and my cock responded instinctively.  I admit, I did compare her to Ian. 

"Fine," I said, not really even considering what she'd asked, but answering automatically.  As she finished twisting her bra into place, I walked up behind her and pressed my firm cock up against the crack of her ass while reaching around her waist and running my hands along the silky cotton of her panties.

"Mark!" she said, "What's gotten into you?  I've got to get ready for work.  I've got a closing in 90 minutes!"

"I just need a few minutes of your time," I said quite uncharacteristically as I began to ease her panties over her hips.  A good woman knows when it's futile to resist her randy partner, and she was definitely a good woman.  And this was definitely one of those times.

"Mark!  The bedroom door's not even closed."  She pulled her panties back up.

"So what?  Josh is in the shower anyway," I said playfully, but my thoughts flashed to Josh running a washcloth over his rock hard stomach, the water cascading down over his soapy 12 year old body.  I think I liked the idea of the door being open, the risk of being 'discovered' by...  I bit my lip, trying to break my train of thought.  "Ok, I'll close it," I conceded, pulling her nearly naked body over toward the bed before closing the door.

"Just a quickie," she said.  "I really need to get going."

"I'll do my best," I told her in my best Cassanova impression.  I slipped my shorts down, my six inch cock slapping my belly like I was a teenager again.  I knew I wasn't the biggest man around, but she'd never complained.  In fact, she'd often said she was never into large cocks and that she preferred smaller ones because they were easier to handle in certain situations and I knew just how she felt.  I'm certain I would have always had my doubts except she'd told me that long before we had ever considered a sexual relationship-- and long before she'd ever seen my cock.

"Oh, my," she said, and I knew I had her full attention now as she licked her lips.  She scooted up on the bed toward the pillows as I kicked my shorts off my feet and climbed onto the bed, kissing my way up her freshly shaven legs, as smooth as... well, smooth.  I moved into position on top of my wife, rubbing my cock against the smooth material of her panties, sucking on her erect nipples.  I was not in any sort of romantic mood-- I was in heat.  I reached down and pulled her white panties aside, exposing her pussy as I slipped the head of my dick into her moist tunnel, reveling in the warmth of her.  I slowly eased my cock into her, giving her time for the juices to fully flow, and she moaned and mewed like a kitten.

I slowly started easing in and out as I suckled at her breast, her hand caressing my face and the back of my head as I did so.  My cock felt so full, so hard, and I think she noticed.  Bonnie felt tighter, my cock more swollen, and I was sure I was penetrating deeper than normal.

"Oh my..." she moaned.  "Come on, baby."  I loved it when she called me that, and we'd role-played a bit on the whole Mommy thing a few times, which I'd always found amusing--  I could barely stand my mother.  But those types of things come out over a relationship that lasted as long as ours.  It wasn't often, but she knew it was an occasional turn-on for me, and I assume for her as well.  I say I assume, because we never discussed it, honestly, but it worked for us in the intimacy of the bedroom and in the heat of the moment.  She could've also been trying to get me off sooner, but I didn't really care at the moment.  Our plans were the same even if the methods weren't.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard," I said, and I followed through on that promise.  I pounded her for several minutes longer than I'd planned, bringing Bonnie to a satisfying orgasm, but I still couldn't get to that plateau.  As I waited the few moments required for her to recuperate, I thought again about trying to take her in the ass, but dismissed the thought as futile since she had to leave.  I fixated on the memory of Ian sitting in the pool, his hands on my shoulders, and my hands under the water, inside his shorts.  My humping motions resumed full force, pounding away in desperation. She reach down and clutched onto my hips, squeezing them hard and pulling me even deeper into her.

As I felt my climax approaching, I could tell she was already beginning her second.  My thoughts of Ian were instantaneously replaced by the vision of Josh in the shower again, but this time I was in there with him, my arms wrapped around his tiny waist from behind, washing his lower belly with the washcloth.  "Rub your belly for luck?" I heard myself say, the words echoing in my head as I felt my orgasm begin.  It didn't originate from my cock, however, but from the area between my balls and my ass.  It was a dull, slow contraction, almost like the onset of a muscle cramp.  The pulsing radiated forward and backward at the same time.  I could feel my cum rising into the base of my shaft and my anus begin to twitch in the same rhythm.

"Oh... my... God..." I heard myself almost scream, some part of me forgetting my son was probably just outside the door while another part knew to restrain myself.  Perhaps it was because I had just cum shortly before and this was the rare (for me) second orgasm that was always better than the first, but I had one of the most powerful orgasms of my life.  I could actually feel the muscles in my shaft flexing, ever so slowly but powerfully.  I was reminded of the very few times back in college when I had cum with my lover's cock buried deep in my ass, and the feeling was the same.

As the throbbing subsided, I rested my head on Bonnie's bosom, the clean scent of her body wash filling my nostrils as my lungs sucked in air.  I could still feel my engorged cock inside my wife and a tingling in my bum.  I remembered my last thoughts as I had approached the point of no return, and I guiltily squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force the thought away.

"I need to go," I heard her say, and it sounded like a voice calling from outside a dream.  I pulled out of her and rolled over onto my right side, my gooey, half-hard cock sliming the sheets.  I think I drifted somewhere between sleep and consciousness, hearing Bonnie cleaning up, then getting dressed.  I finally heard the door open.

"Make sure you don't fall back asleep," I heard her say.

"I know..."

"And thanks, honey.  That was unexpected, but... nice."  She paused, and I thought she was going to tell me to get up.  "Maybe we should have Ian over more often," she said as she headed out the door, closing it behind her and leaving me shocked and confused.


I made it through my first few classes that morning in a bit of a haze.  Although I hadn't slept well, I had been teaching long enough to make it through just fine.  I'd even pushed Bonnie's comment-- and Ian-- out of my mind for the most part, until fourth period.  Like yesterday, Ian was the last student to enter the room, but this time he came in right after the bell had rung.  I wondered if I should even mention it.  If I treated him differently, I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors, but what if I made him angry and... well, I didn't want to go there, but I had to reestablish the teacher-student roles.

"Mr. Conaghan," I said somewhat sternly.  I was seated at my desk.

"Yes Mr. Adams?"  He raised his eyebrows as if he had no idea why I was calling his name.

"Do you have a note explaining why you are late?"  He furrowed his brow slightly and shook his head.

"No, Sir.  I have P.E. before this class and I ran as fast as I could.  I promise," he said solemnly.  "I didn't even have time to take a shower, and I was still late.  The gym is on the whole other side of the school," he added for emphasis."  I noticed again today the hair of his sideburns was matted down with sweat.  Against my will, my mind flashed to Ian in the gym shower, but I forced the thought away.

"I think you'll need to speak with Coach Carr about that," I told him.  "If I keep a student too long, I write them a note."  He looked down at his desk.  "A lot of students have gym, and they find a way to make it to their next class. Please see me after class."  I was now second guessing myself.  Was I intentionally keeping him after class?  Preposterous!  I would have done the same... actually, I would have just marked them as tardy.

"But..." he started to protest and then, thinking better of it, he stopped himself.  "Yes, sir."  The class was silent, and they were all staring at me.  I saw Jason smirking at his desk and, remembering my dream, I wanted to slap that smirk off his face.

Ian looked sullen throughout the entire class, and even shot me a couple dirty looks.  I was beginning to feel especially guilty and that, combined with my lack of sleep, caused the class to be one of my worst.  I was even corrected by Jason, that would-be class trouble maker, when I made a mistake on one of the math problems I had written on the board.  This was only fifth grade math, after all, and I was screwing it up in front of the students I was supposedly teaching.  The consequences of my decisions were quick in coming, and I knew I had to gain control.

When class ended, the kids headed off for lunch.  All but Ian.  He remained in his desk, not even closing his book.

"Ian," I said to him after the last kid left, the door closing behind her, "I'm sorry I had to come down so hard on you."  He said nothing, but he looked me directly in the eyes.  "Do you understand?"


"Excuse me?"

"Yes," he said tersely.  He looked away from me toward the door.  "No," he corrected himself, "actually I don't understand.  "I didn't mean to be late.  I didn't want to be late.  And it wasn't even my fault I was late, but instead of just giving me a tardy, you're making me miss lunch.  And I'm really hungry."  This was not how I saw this playing out.

"I'm not going to keep you from lunch, Ian.  I just wanted you to know that in the classroom, well...  I just wanted you to..."  I fought for the right words.  I wanted him to know that, just because I had... touched him, I guess, I couldn't let him get away with anything.  And yet I couldn't really say that.

"Oh...  I get it," he said, grinning as if he'd just figured something out.  He stood from his desk and moved over toward mine, facing me with his back to the door.  He reached down to the zipper of his shorts and pulled it down-- right there in the classroom!  He reached into his fly and started moving his fingers around inside, fishing his penis out.

"I didn't keep you after class for... for that, Ian!"  I swallowed hard and looked past him toward the door.

"Oh!" he said, and extracted his fingers.  "Oh, man!"  His face was red and he fumbled to zip up his shorts.

"Is this something you do with all your teachers?" I asked jokingly, but I admit I was curious.  This was overtly sexual behavior for a ten year old.  I realize it must have sounded like an accusation when I said it, but I was bewildered.

"No!" he said, and I could tell the question had embarrassed him.  He was still beet red.  "I've never done anything like that before.  I just thought, um... I don't know what I thought."

At this point, I was torn.  I really did want him to unzip his shorts and pull them down to his ankles.  He hadn't read that incorrectly at all.  I didn't want to send him away confused, but I couldn't do anything here in the classroom.  Or could I?  I had always had a fantasy about messing around with a boy in my classroom.  Gone was the man who was tossing and turning with agony and guilt last night.

I reached out and pulled him toward me by his hips and I think I startled him a bit.  As I held his hips, I leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"You were right.  I do want to see it, Ian."  I was shocked to hear myself say that, but when I lifted my head back up and looked into his face, his was smiling nervously.

"Now?" he asked me, and he grinned as he nervously glanced over his shoulder toward the door.

"Just a peek?"  I reached my hand over to the front of his shorts and massaged his little lump through his shorts.  I could feel his bulge behind that fabric, but he didn't feel like he was hard.

He looked over his shoulder toward the door again and then returned his eyes to mine.  He tilted his head down toward the hand that was fondling him.  I could definitely feel him getting hard now, and my own erection was throbbing in my jeans.

"May I?" I asked him, and he nodded his head slowly.  I unbuttoned his shorts and looked into his face to make sure he was still ok with what I was doing.  He glanced back up at me quickly before looking back down.  I moved my hand to the side a bit, and I could see his khaki shorts were poking out a bit.  At the top of his shorts, I could see the waistband of his underwear where the button was undone, the word 'GAP' printed over and over again along the edge.  I pulled the edges of his shorts out a little and saw he was wearing blue camouflage briefs, and my cock pulsed.

After briefly checking the door again, I reached my trembling hand to his zipper and started to tug it down.  As the zipper inched down, his boy cock slowly pressed the blue camo out through the opening.  When the zipper reached bottom, his little khaki shorts started to slide down his hips.

"Hold them up," I told him, and he put his hands along his hips, propping up his shorts.  I marveled at the blue tent in front of me and my mouth went dry, causing me to lick my lips. Ian saw that and I heard him giggle very quietly.

"You like it, huh?" he asked, and it was my turn to nod my head.

"Very, very much, Ian."  I reached my still-shaking fingers to the top of his waistband and pulled it toward me, peeking inside.  Inside its warm hideaway was a thick, three inch cocklet sticking straight up, as hard as can be, and topped with the softest looking foreskin I could have ever imagined.  "You're not circumcised," I said.  His glans was entirely covered by his little hood, so much so that it formed a little ruffled cone extending past his tip.

"Sorry.  I know it's weird, but my parents..."

"No, no...  it looks delicious," I interrupted as I licked my lips nervously, and he giggled nervously again.  I peeked around at the door again and, seeing nobody there, I pulled his undies down in front, down below his balls.  They were as smooth as glass, and he there wasn't a hair to be found anywhere on his groin.  "Can you cum?" I asked, hearing the lust in my own voice as I said it.

"Kinda," he whispered, and I was intrigued.  Did he mean he could achieve orgasm, or produce semen?  I knew some boys could ejaculate before they were eleven, and I'd heard kids were hitting sexual maturity earlier these days.  But I had my first full orgasm at ten and a half and that was eons ago, so I knew it was at least possible.  I didn't ask for clarification, though, not wanting to spoil the surprise entirely.

I reached up with my thumb and index finger, gently sliding his skin down his shaft.  I watched intently as the tight skin eased down the head of his penis, unrolling and stretching over his tiny knob.  At this distance, I could smell his slightly sweaty boy cock and bottom.  As his skin unfurled past his head, I could see he was not entirely clean, but it somehow excited me even more.  The aroma of his groin was causing my passion to rise, and  I was at real risk of blowing my load in my jeans.

"I just came from gym," he said, preparing an explanation of his slightly manky winky, but I cut his excuses short by leaning forward from my chair, onto my knees, and taking his little root between my lips and along my tongue.  This was the first cock I'd tasted since before Ian was even born, and it felt like fireworks were going off in my mouth.

I heard Ian hiss above me as I sucked his succulent little pole into my mouth.  My nose pressed against his rock hard belly below the hem of his navy polo shirt, and I breathed his scent deep into my nostrils.  "Oh my gosh!" Ian squealed as I rolled his baby schlong across my tongue, tasting heaven.

I wrapped my lips around his shaft, pulling his foreskin back up and over his glans, manipulating his tip with my tongue.  I reached my hand into the gap of his fly and ran my finger under his balls, along his cotton-clad pucker, and Ian shuddered.  I pressed the material up into his butthole just a bit, twirling my finger as it gently assaulted the ring of his sphincter.

"Oh, oh, oh," he cooed as I fellated the child.  I felt the pressure of his little pee pee building, and I knew he was close.  And at just that moment, I thought I tasted the tiniest hint of something sweet, a taste that transported me back to when I was just a boy.

I felt his penis bucking and twitching in my mouth, and I prayed for his precious elixir, but it was not to be.  He pressed his hands on the back of my head, his cocklet just too sensitive to continue, right as I reached the point of no return.  I stood quickly, unzipping my jeans and released my throbbing, dripping member in front of Ian.  In front of a ten year old I'd only met yesterday.  After only two strokes, I stepped to the side and shot a hot load of man cum onto the tile floor beside his shoes.  The look on Ian's face was the real definition of shock and awe.  "Wow!" was all he could say.  His eyes shifted from my cock to the splotches of cum on the floor and back to my cock again.

I stood there with my cock sticking out between us, breathing heavily, and I noticed his little nail was still standing tall with his hood back in place.  He was staring at my cock in disbelief when he let go of one side of his shorts, which slid partway off his hip, and started fondling his little pecker.  He wasn't masturbating it, but sort of squeezing or pinching it a little.

I stuffed my sticky, mostly hard cock back into my jeans and zipped up, the little window in the classroom door feeling like an accusing and staring eye.  Following my lead, Ian began to pull the front of his underwear up, when I put my hand out and caressed his little rod for another moment or two before I bent over and kissed him on his tip and then squeezed his firm rump.  He zipped himself up, but there was still a slight bulge visible through his shorts.

I smiled at him, and he returned the smile, but his facial expression told me he was a little embarrassed of what had just taken place.  "You shot a lot..."

"You shot, too," I told him, feeling awkward saying that. The post-orgasmic guilt was already beginning to creep in.

"But not like that," he said with admiration, looking back toward the liquefying puddle of semen between us.  I just chuckled nervously.  "I need to pee," he told me.

"Ok, Ian.  Go on.  You might want to hurry up, or you're going to miss lunch."

"Ok," he said, and I wondered about following him to the bathroom.  But now that my mind was clearer, I knew that was ridiculous.

I reached over and hugged him, and he didn't shy away, so I bent down and kissed him on his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth, but the peck was not returned.  That only increased my sense of guilt.  "Are you going to come by the house this afternoon?" I asked him.

"Yeah.  Probably."  He was putting his sutff into his backpack at his desk.

"Great," I said, but I was both excited and nervous about that for several reasons.

"Ok, well.  Bye, Mr. Adams," he said after zipping up his book bag.  He paused a moment, shifting slightly and holding his penis through his shorts with his free hand.  I wondered if he wanted me to follow him to the bathroom, but my guilt was growing thick at this point.  Not only had I just committed a felony or two, I was leaving the boy confused and offering nothing to soothe whatever guilt or other emotions he was feeling;  I just couldn't.

"Goodbye, Ian," I told him, turning toward my desk to get some tissues.  I heard him walking toward the door, and my mind was racing to think of something 'grown up' to say.  As I turned around, I saw the classroom door swing closed behind him.  All I could think about was how absolutely reckless I was becoming.  Sucking a ten year old boy's cock in my classroom during lunch, and masturbating in front of him?  I had a feeling this scene in my classroom today would thrill and haunt me for the rest of my life.  And I knew one thing for certain-- it could never happen again. Ever...

To be continued...