story is a work of fiction, meaning it did not take place. It
contains sexual content involving persons under the age of consent
be inappropriate for you or illegal where you live. If this is
the case, please read no further. I do not condone
actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story.
Comments should be directed to Mark Adams.
...From the last chapter...
"Goodbye, Ian," I told him, turning
toward my desk to get some
tissues. I heard him walking toward the door, and my mind was
to think of something 'grown up' to say. As I turned around, I
classroom door swing closed behind him. All I could think about
was how absolutely reckless I was becoming. Sucking a ten year
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
haunt me for the
rest of my life. And I knew one thing for certain-- it could
never happen again. Ever...
Into Ian - Chapter 3
The rest of the school day had been a blur. Although I loved
teaching, my classes were almost a distraction today. I had known
Ian for only two
days, but something had gripped me so
deeply that I seemed to have lost interest in everything else.
I had lived my life
so cautiously and carefully, and now it felt like it was all
unwinding. And, although I'm by no means an adrenaline junky, I
it. At least that's what I told myself.
I knew my feelings for Ian were irresponsible and wrong. That's
what I'd always been taught to think. But how could feelings be
wrong? And who made those decisions? Every society makes
its own rules, I know, and there are always outsiders. It's
almost an unwritten law-- someone must serve the role as the black
sheep to make the rest feel... normal. But most outcasts in
society at least have some sort of community where the suffering can be
shared. But I, of course, had nobody to help carry my burden and
I thought it might be precisely that void that had allowed me to do
what I had done. Living in that void for so long had left me
desperate enough to do something I knew was wrong.
I sat alone in my classroom for quite a while, riddled with guilt and
thinking long and hard about everything that had
transpired over the last couple of days. Surprisingly, however,
that kept coming back to me was the bizarre (and unsettling)
interaction with Josh in my kitchen. What was it I felt for
him? Or was it even him?
I was tired, but I didn't feel hungry, at least not for food. I
hungered for a boy, though I knew without a doubt I could not continue
down that path. So
far as I knew, I had gotten away with it, but now I was now at a point
where I had certainly pressed my luck.
I looked out the window and saw it was already beginning to get dark
outside. I looked at my watch and realized it was much later than
I thought, though I still didn't feel ready to go home. I was
nervous Bonnie would know something had happened. I hadn't just
broken my vows and cheated on my wife after fifteen years of marriage--
I'd done it with a ten year old boy.
I retrieved my cell phone from my desk drawer and it was still off .
I'd forgotten to turn it back on after school ended and I wondered if
Bonnie had called. But I didn't turn it on to find out. I
just gathered my stuff, deciding I couldn't delay the inevitable.
As I left the school, there were only about fifteen cars remaining in
the parking lot, most of those probably belonging to the cleaning
crew. As I approached my parking space, I noticed Coach Carr's
truck was parked next to my car. I stood there, rolling my keys
around in my hand and thinking about Ian's tardiness earlier
in the day. I turned around and looked at the school from the
lot. The gym was on the opposite side of the school from my room,
but as I looked at it, they weren't really that far apart. There
should be more than enough time to make it from P.E. to my class during
the passing period if Coach Carr let his students hit the showers a few
minutes early. At least that's how it worked when I was in
school. I decided I would time it for myself and, if Coach Carr
was still inside, maybe talk to him about the problem with Ian.
It was time to start acting like an adult.
I headed back in to the school building and made my way down the hall
to the gym. The doors to the gym were locked and I figured Coach
had locked up and was probably on his way out the back door and getting
in his car at this exact moment. That was fine with me, since I
didn't really know how to ask the gruff, giant of a man if he was
letting his students out on time without pissing him off anyway.
But I still wanted to see how long it took to get from the locker room
to my class.
I used my school keys and entered the gymnasium, my shoes squeaking on
the laminate floors and
echoing in the cavernous room. I had only been in here for
assemblies or for registration, but it seemed almost eerie with only
the low security lights on. I headed for the locker rooms and
entered the Boys' area. The fluorescent lights hummed above me in
the quiet locker room, and I found it surprisingly clean with just the
faintest hint of that sweat sock smell, and it occurred to me I'd never
been in this part of the school.
Everything was still pretty new since the school had just been built
recently. I had started teaching there the first year it was
open, just after we'd moved in to our new house. I thought the
locker room was pretty classy, with nicely tiled floors, oversized
benches and lockers, and everything painted in the school's colors, and
there was no graffiti anywhere that I could see. It was nice to
see my exorbitant tax dollars were being put to such good use.
I peeked into the toilet area and found it just as clean. The
only thing that caught my eye, however, was the lack of dividers
between the row of urinals. Now that
was curious. Maybe only a gay man
would notice something like that right away, but I still thought it was
designed this area?" I wondered. In the teachers' toilets,
there were enormous dividers and I'd laughed when I first saw them, but
seeing the lack of them in this space was somehow mildly erotic.
The thought of fifth and sixth grade boys lined up there to pee,
looks at each other flashed through my mind. The
toilets at DFW (where I've secretly spied a lot of pee
pees) were the same, and I wondered if the same architect had designed
I left the toilet area and headed over to the shower area next to
it. After seeing the toilet area, I was only mildly surprised to
see it was a group shower, just a large, tiled room with spigots
lining the wall. I was certain now that only a sadist or a boy
lover could have designed this locker room. I remembered my own
school days and the dread I felt upon seeing those gang showers in
Middle School and chuckled to myself at my excitement in seeing them
now. This was only a fifth and sixth grade school, however, so
perhaps it wasn't the testosterone-filled playground.
Perhaps... but I did know of at least one horny little fifth
grader in one of my classes. "Maybe
I could switch from Math to Physical Education," I thought
briefly, and then, remembering my recent vow and the predicament I was
in, I thought that
probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had.
I backed out of the shower area and, as I turned to my left, I saw an
interior window I hadn't noticed before. It faced toward the
changing area and was covered on the inside by venetian blinds, which
were mostly closed, a little light shining from behind. I looked
over at what was obviously the door
to that room and noticed the shadows of movement in the light coming
from under the door. I heard a drip from the shower area, and
turned my head and looked back into the shower. There was nobody
there. It was just a drip.
I looked back over toward the window, and I thought I must be going
crazy. The blinds were completely closed and there was no light
behind them. I looked back at the door, and there was no light
under there, either. I felt my heart pounding a little, but I
didn't know why. Was I afraid some killer lurked behind that
No, not at all. Was I afraid of being caught traipsing through
the Boys' locker room after hours, with no legitimate reason to be
there? Yeah, that was probably a little closer to the truth.
I thought about what to do for a moment. Whoever was on the other
side of that door (almost certainly Coach Carr, since it looked like it
was probably his office) had almost certainly seen me through the
blinds, so I decided to knock on the door to have that discussion about
his dismissal procedures. At least that would lend credibility to
my being here. I stepped toward the door and, after hesitating
briefly, I knocked and took a step backward.
There was no answer. "Should I
knock again, or just leave?" I wondered. I opted for
the latter. If someone was in there and didn't answer, they
obviously had a reason. If nobody was there and I was just
imagining things, then what was the point?
I remembered why I'd come in here in the first place, and looked at my
watch, noting the time (and just how late it was getting). I left
the locker room and left through the gym at a leisurely pace, heading
back to my classroom. I reached the door to my room and looked
back at my watch. It took me just over three minutes.
Allowing for a generous changing time, that meant it should take Ian no
more than 8 minutes to get to my classroom with a couple minutes to
spare. Just what did I hope to do with that information I had no
idea. My entire experiment was just a waste of time, it seemed.
I sighed and headed back out toward the main doors to the parking
lot. As I approached the door, I heard quick footsteps coming
from the other direction. I slowed my pace and walked
quietly. Suddenly, Jason Ball came bounding around the
corner. He froze when he saw me, and the little turd looked
guilty. The image of him holding the knife in my dream flashed
through my head.
Now, I don't have time to go into anything in detail (perhaps another
time), but I've not had the best of luck with 'Jasons' in my
life. My first sexual encounter with a boy was when I was nine
years old. You guessed it-- his name was Jason. Let's just
say that didn't go so well. My next encounter, when I was 11, was
with a boy named... oh, I'll spare you. I've had sex with three
boys named Jason during my school days, and spent a good deal of High
longing for a connection with a fourth-- two and a half years of hell
spent dealing with unrequited love. So call it coincidence,
superstition, or just plain idiotic, but I've never had the best of
luck with them and I was always on guard whenever I met someone named
I raised my eyebrows at him as I looked him over. Short, auburn,
straight hair, powder blue eyes, and a rugged masculinity with soft,
succulent lips and incredibly long lashes-- the little shithead was
sexy as hell. I'll give him that much. He was wearing a
polo shirt, the buttons undone and the tail of the shirt was untucked
from his half-zipped navy blue Dockers. His left shoe was
untied, the lace trailing behind him. He looked like he'd just
been mugged, but his look of surprise and guilt made him somehow
attractive, and I put myself on guard.
"Um, Mr. Adams..." he fumbled, tucking his shirt in behind him.
"I forgot an assignment... in my locker. Here at school... but I
got it now, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he turned
hastily toward the front door.
"Which class?" I asked him. He held no papers or books in his
hands and I saw no backpack.
"Your assignment," I said to him calmly. "For which class?"
"Uh..." he said, thinking. "English? Yeah, English. I
forgot my English assignment."
"Oh, I see," I told him. I was enjoying watching the little
fucker squirm, and I thought about letting him go. But that image
of him in my dream... I know it was just a dream, but I couldn't shake
it from my mind. "So your locker is back that-a-way?" I asked
him, pointing toward the gym. The
gym? I wondered if he was
the one who had been in the locker room.
"Oh. I thought your locker was over near my classroom."
"No, sir," he said cautiously, "I meant my gym
locker." And then he locked onto my eyes and smiled-- a Jason smile that sucked me back to
when I was nine years old, and I couldn't meet his stare. I
thought about confronting him with the fact that I was just in the
locker room, but decided it was best just to leave it be.
Probably neither of us should be here this late, and I was tired and
"Oh, ok," I said, looking toward his shoes. "I won't keep you
from your homework, then. See you tomorrow, Jason." I
looked back toward his face and saw he was still smiling. It was
just a smile; nothing sinister. Kind of sweet, actually. I
guess I'd transferred some of my own baggage onto him. I turned
and pushed on the door.
"Good night, Mr. Adams," he
said from behind me. As I exited the building, I headed for my
car and Jason headed for the bike rack. From the corner of my eye
I saw him squat down by his bicycle to tie his shoe. I got into
my car and sat, gripping the steering wheel. I needed
sleep. I looked into the rearview mirror and saw movement toward
the back of the gym. I turned around in my seat and saw the
unmistakable hulking form of Coach Carr as he made his way toward his
Coach Carr just left from the back of the gym. Jason had just
come from the
locker room where I hadn't seen either of them. Had they been
together? I couldn't think why that would be. I shook my
started my car, and pulled out hastily to avoid talking with Coach and
headed for home.
When I got into the house, I headed for the family room where I heard
television. I made sure to put on a happy face, but I made sure
it didn't look too happy.
There were two topics, both intertwined
with Ian, that I needed to avoid. First was Bonnie's parting
comment to me that morning about Ian. I did want to know what
she'd meant, but I certainly didn't want to have that
conversation. Not yet, at least, since it was tied to the other
topic-- that of my infidelity. My infidelity... the words somehow
sounded less profound than the reality of what had really taken place.
I saw Bonnie on the couch as I rounded the corner, and Josh was sitting
at the breakfast table working on his homework. Well, he seemed
to be watching TV more than doing his homework, but I wasn't so
concerned with that at the moment. He saw me first.
"Hey, Dad," he called out to me as he got up from the table.
Bonnie turned to look at me as I rounded the corner. She didn't
seem upset, so that was a good sign.
"Hey, buddy," I said as he trotted up to me, already in his pajamas,
and hugged me. "Hi
Bonnie. Sorry I'm so late." It occurred to me that I hadn't
thought of a plausible reason for being so late. Josh turned
around in my hug and I instinctively rubbed his hard tummy.
"Hi, honey," she replied. "Long day, huh?" Again, she
didn't seem upset, but with women you can't always tell. I knew
she wouldn't be upset with my being late, but I hadn't called or had my
cell phone on. That wasn't typical behavior for me.
"Yeah, I lost track of the time."
"I figured," she said. "You missed dinner." It was just a
statement, but I felt some disappointment in it.
"I'm not really hungry anyway."
"Good," she replied. "because there isn't any left. Josh
and Ian left you nothing." There it was, the name I didn't want
to hear. The name that kicked up my pulse a notch.
"Then it worked out for everyone!" I said, trying to be
lighthearted. Was it too much? Probably. Josh looked
up over his shoulder at me, grinning.
"Ok..." she said. Alright, so she was upset, but so far as I knew
it was only because I was late. She didn't know. She
couldn't have, and since Ian was here, at least she knew I wasn't with
him tonight. Why would she think that? "Josh, you need to
finish up your homework." I swatted him playfully on his butt to
send him on his way.
"Yes, Mom," he answered, heading back to the breakfast table.
"So what had you 'stuck at the office' on the second day of school?"
she asked me. I thought I might have gotten off the hook, but
knew it couldn't have been that easy. I still had no response, so
I opted for the truth; at least a portion of it. "I just had some
thinking to do."
"Oh." I saw her think that one over and I guessed she had thought
I would have concocted a more elaborate story. I felt the need to
elaborate, but chose not to for obvious reasons.
"Where's Tigger?" I asked her, shifting the conversation to my benefit.
"He's out in the backyard," Josh answered for his mother.
"Josh," she said, a little miffed. "Take your homework up to your
room." Uh-oh. I needed to get out of there quickly!
"Listen to your mother," I told him.
"Yes, sir." He picked up his papers, putting them into his book
before closing it. I turned back to Bonnie.
"I'm going to take a shower." Josh looked up at me as I said
that. I could be reading too much into it, but I thought I could
tell by the look on his face that he knew an 'adult' discussion was
going to be had and that I was trying to get out of it. He looked
over at his Mom.
"Josh," she said without even looking at him. I think she really
does have eyes in the back of her head sometimes.
"I'm leaving, Mom," he sighed, picking up his book and heading up the
Once he was upstairs, I started to turn to head back to the
bedroom. "Mark," she said, and I paused, looking back at
her. "Is everything ok?" She reached over to the remote
control and turned off the television.
I thought about the question for a moment, and I wondered what she
meant by it. Was she asking because I looked tired? Or
because I came home late without calling? Maybe it was about my
reaction to her comment that morning, or perhaps Ian had made some
comment over dinner. I was quite tired, and I thought I wasn't
really prepared for a long discussion about anything.
"Yeah," I replied. "I'm fine. I'm just really tired.
I didn't sleep well last night."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, sounding a little concerned
as she scooted over to the edge of the couch. She didn't sound
angry, just concerned. I really did want to talk, but with
whom? Certainly not Bonnie. She got up off the couch and
made her way toward me. "Come on," she said. "Let me run
you a bath.?"
I actually just wanted some quiet time to think. Alone. But
I thought that might
raise a flag in her mind if I said no, and I certainly didn't
any red flags being raised. "Sure," I said.
After letting the dog in, we headed to the bedroom and she closed the
door behind us. She
took my hand and led me to the bathroom where she sat on the edge of
the garden tub and turned on the water. It hit me again for the
millionth time that
I'd cheated on my wife earlier that same day-- maybe even the day
before, depending on how
you defined it, and the woman I'd just cheated was concerned for and
taking care of me. I felt two feet tall. I leaned against
"Are you going to take
a bath in your clothes?" she asked jokingly as she looked over at
me. I forced a chuckle,
and stepped out of my shoes and then took off my shirt. My mind
flashed over the day's events at light speed, to Josh's reaction to the
matted hair below my navel and to my ejaculating in front of Ian.
I wondered if I had any telltale signs I'd cheated. No, none that
I could think of
anyway. But I didn't know if my cock was crusty, if there were
cum stains on my
underwear... something to that effect. The water droned on and
echoed in the room as the tub filled with water and she added some bath
I stood there, delaying the removal of my jeans, but Bonnie stood from
edge of the tub and walked over to me. "Need some help there,
Casanova?" she asked, hooking her fingers into my jeans.
"I think I can manage," I told her, again forcing a chuckle.
"You sure?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and slipping her fingers to
the button of my jeans. "I have some more time now..." she said
with a lusty
grin. I felt dread and yet I smiled as she unbuttoned my
jeans. She lowered herself to her knees on the rug beneath my
feet and my sense of dread heightened.
"Bonnie," I said, and my voice caught in my throat. "I... I'm
really sweaty and nasty." I felt we were playing a game of
"I'm feeling a little...
nasty," she said as she started to slowly unzip me. She knew I was hiding something and had
a counter to my every move. Queen
to e8. Check.
"Please," I said, putting my hand over hers, blocking the downward
motion of the zipper. "Let me just rinse off first?" King to a7.
"Ok," she said, and I saw she looked disappointed, but for what
exactly? She returned to her feet and moved back to the tub,
swirling her hand in the water to blend it. "Just throw your
clothes in a pile and I'll take them to the laundry room." I knew
what that meant. Queen to
"Alright," I said. "Thanks." I moved over to the water
closet, unzipping my
jeans the rest of the way, ostensibly to take a leak. I inspected
Mr. Happy and the front of my drawers, pleased to find everything
copasetic. King to b8.
I eased into bed after my long bath, still tired but a little more
refreshed and clear-headed. I gently nudged Tigger off the foot
of the bed with my feet, hoping not to wake Bonnie if she was already
asleep. I felt Bonnie scooting over to my side of the bed,
spooning me as I lay on my right side, facing away from her.
"Feeling a little less sweaty and nasty now?" she whispered, running
her hand down along my abs and cupping my crotch, which didn't react.
"A lot less," I answered,
"but still very tired." She fondled my
flaccid penis, reaching in through the fly of my flannel sleep shorts.
"Good." She ran her middle finger under my glans and rubbed the
top with her thumb for a little bit. It felt good, but I think my
guilt or tiredness prevented my penis from becoming erect, which was
fine with me. She
pulled her fingers out of my fly for a moment and, when they returned,
I could feel they were wet with her saliva. It felt great, but
more like a
"I think I may be a little too exhausted," I informed her, justifying
my lack of response.
"Don't worry about it. Just relax." As she said that, I
noticed my muscles were tense as she continued to fondle me, running
her fingernails lightly along my stretched scrotum and playing with my
pubic hair. Still nothing. I felt frustrated, both at my
lack of attaining an erection and with her for pressing the
issue. I remained on my side. She tugged my sac out gently
from where it was trapped between my thighs. She continued to
gently handle me for several minutes, and I felt myself begin to drift
off to sleep.
"I don't think Ian was wearing any underwear today," she said quietly,
and at first I thought I dreamed that. My eyes shot open and, at
the wrong moment, I felt my cock begin to stir from its slumber.
"Huh?" She detected movement in my growing cock and pulled the skin
along my shaft backward with her thumb and first two fingers. I
tried to will my cock back to sleep, but it seemed to have other plans.
"I was just saying that when Ian was over, I don't think he was wearing
any underwear." I felt the blood pumping into my shaft, and I was
about half hard at that point. I was fighting a lost cause, and I
wondered if she was doing this intentionally. I couldn't think of
any other reason she would be talking about a ten year old student of
mine not wearing underwear while playing with my manhood.
"What made you think that?" I
inquired, my curiosity getting the best of me. My penis continued
to thicken and lengthen.
"I don't know. It just crossed my mind for some reason..."
"No," I said, "I meant what made you think he wasn't wearing any...
underwear?" She increased the stroking motion on my cock, which
was now almost fully erect.
"Oh. You know those nylon shorts he was wearing yesterday?"
I didn't know if I could say I hadn't noticed them without her laughing
"Uh... I think so."
"Well, he had a white pair on today and... let's just say they didn't
hide much," she said. "I swear I could see the outline of his
penis shifting in his shorts." His
penis. What was my wife doing checking out a ten year
old's penis? Or, more accurately, admitting she had? My
cock, fully hard now, betrayed me and jumped between her fingers.
She wrapped her hand around my shaft and just held it.
"He was probably wearing boxers," I said, remembering I'd had the same
thought when I saw him yesterday.
"I don't think so. But he could've been, I guess," she
conceded. She released my cock and pulled my left leg over toward
her, exposing my erection fully as it stuck out through the fly of my
shorts. Just what the hell was going on here, I had no
idea. Was she testing or teasing? Both?
"What does it matter, anyway?" I asked as if the subject was boring
me. It mattered more than she could have known.
"I guess it doesn't" she said. "But I seem to have your
attention." She chuckled and squeezed my erection in her
hand. I swallowed hard.
"What are you doing, Bonnie?" Her comment about having Ian over,
my cheating on her, and now this. I wasn't at all comfortable
with being so exposed.
"I could ask you the same thing, Mark. Or
I could ask why one of your students would come over in silky shorts
without any underwear."
"I guess you'll have to ask Ian that," I snapped, but that was of
course the last thing I wanted her to do. I pulled away from her
and rolled back onto my right side, pulling my legs up toward my
chest, making my penis a more difficult target. I felt Bonnie sit
up in the bed.
"I'm not accusing you of anything, Mark." She placed her hand on
my shoulder. "But are you telling me you have no interest in that
"Seems like you're the only one admitting that," I chided and she
laughed a quick, sharp laugh. It felt like my marriage was
spontaneously dissolving along with my own self identity.
"Maybe I'm the only one being honest," she said, and I wondered what
that meant. Of course I knew she was insinuating, correctly, that
I was attracted to Ian. But was she saying she was being honest
about admitting she was interested in... a child? I knew that was
certainly not the case, but it made me wonder all the same.
Just like the ladies in the teachers'lounge, it crossed my mind that my
wife could notice that sort of thing. Maybe a boy's penis
around would make almost anyone take notice, wouldn't it? Maybe
everyone sees the youth and perfection in a child but either deals with
it maturely or deceives themself. Or maybe I was truly alone and
unable to see things from another perspective. The normal perspective...
"Whatever," I told her, the most perfect male response. I felt
Bonnie flop back into a reclining position. This was going to be
a long, lonely road-- for both of us, perhaps.
To be continued...