Date: Wed, 4 Nov 2015 08:52:42 -0800 From: deacon mushrat Subject: A Passing Grade A PASSING GRADE "Um...ah...Excuse me, Mr. B." Scott looked up from grading middle school essays and saw Trevor, his one-handed student, standing in front of the desk. Trevor was not actually one handed; the joke came from Trevor's always keeping the other hand in his pants playing pocket pool. "What's up, Trev?" "Sorry to bother you, Sir..." "No worries. What's up?" "Sir, I missed my ride home and I thought maybe, since you live near me, I could catch a ride?" "You bet. Let me just..." "No hurry, Sir. I can wait." Scott shuffled his papers together: "I can do this at home. Grab your pack." They walked out to Scott's Cherokee. Scott was impressed watching Trevor shoulder his backpack, open the car door, toss the bag in the back seat, and buckle the seatbelt, all one-handed. Trev was one good-looking boy, and Scott had thought about him a lot. He could feel his pants tenting. "Did you grade my essay yet?" The tent collapsed. Talking grades was a downer in more ways than one. The essay was half good, half bad, and Scott had chosen the lower. Better lie about it now and explain later. "No. I'll get to it tonight." "I thought it was pretty good." "Glad you did, Trev. I'll take that into consideration. Say, got a question for you." "Sure, Mr. B." Start raising the tent again, boys: "Your hand in your pocket all the time. People notice. Maybe you should be more careful?" "Yeah, they notice. Meet interesting people that way. Well, if you were twelve and had a seven inch boner twenty-four seven, I bet you would milk it too." "Dude, you are too young for seven inches. That's just..." "Wanna bet?" "Bet? Bet what?" "Here's the bet. If I'm seven inches and you lose, you have to suck me off. If I'm less than seven inches and you win, you get to suck me off." "Wait. Oh, I get it. Yeah, that'll work. That'll work nicely." "But here's the deal. With teachers I only do it for grade. An A on my essay you lied about not having graded." "How'd you know I lied?" "Saw it on your desk, doofus. It was right on top." "Hey, a little respect." "That depends on how well you suck. Respect is earned." Scott knew both winning and losing were the same for him, but he wanted to play with Trev's dick a bit first: "We don't know yet who won, and I don't have a ruler." "Got one in my pack." Trevor reached back, still one armed, unzipped his pack, rummaged around, pulled out a clear blue plastic ruler (inches AND centimeters!), and handed it to Scott as they turned down Trevor's street. "So, Trev, your place or mine?" "Mine's good. Dad's not home for another two hours." "What about your mom?" "They've separated. I live with them separate weeks. This week is dad's." "Sisters? Brothers? "A sister who is in band until late. No brothers." "Sorry about your folks." "Not a problem. Mom lives pretty close, too — she and dad get along. Stop in front of the garage and I'll punch you in." Trevor hopped out of the car (still one-handed), typed the code, then stood and said, as he waited by the driver's side, "Forward into the bat cave, Batman. Robin is horny as hell." "Not only Robin, buddy." Scott drove until the hanging tennis ball touched the windshield and turned off the engine. Trevor closed the garage door – Scott felt a quick thrill as the garage went dark – got in the passenger side and finally took his hand out of his pocket. He slipped down his pants without undoing his belt. Skinny kid, thought Scott. Nice plaid boxers, too. Boys look sooooo cool in boxers! With that tent, maybe he does have seven inches. "Where's the ruler? Ah. Now for the acid test. Boxers down!" Trevor slipped them below his knees and Scott stifled a gasp, not because it was seven inches – it wasn't – but it was so damn perfect – uncut, the bulb smoothly outlined by the foreskin, a slight curve towards his belly, hard and true, just a few wisps of hair. Trevor's essay was easily going to be worth an A, even an A+ if Scott ever gave them. Which he didn't. "Gotta make sure it's full length, Trev. Just a little encouragement." Scott twisted in the driver's seat and bent down. He raised Trevor's dick and licked the tip, then moved his lips down and around, letting the tip hit the back of his mouth. Trevor gave a surprise little shove that kind of pushed his dick in further and choked Scott, and laughed. Trevor's dick was oozing and squeezing out precum; mmmm. Then Scott sat back up and held the dick against the ruler. "Six, and that's generous, buddy. Sorry. You lose." "Damn. Well, guess I have to pay." Scott continued to hold the dick with his hands, playing with the skin, rubbing it gently up and down, watching the tip appear and disappear. No wonder that kid had his hand in his pocket all the time. Then he bent down and started sucking, working his tongue around, up and down, in and out, over and under. Trevor helped with small pulsings of his dick and short thrusts from his hips. It didn't take long. "I'm cumming, I'm cumminnnngggg!" Scott swallowed the drops and drips, working the shaft with his hand to get every last molecule. He stayed with his lips glued to Trevor's dick as it softened, until Trevor pushed him away. Then he sat up. Trevor slipped his boxers back on, then his pants. "Not a bad job, Batman. You've done this before." "Never with anyone so perfect, even if it's only five and a half inches." "Six. You said six." "You're right, six. Six of the greatest inches on the planet." "Soon to be seven. Just wait. Am I going to have a good year in seventh grade English?" "I think. Am I still a doofus? Did I earn any respect ?" "It's a start. We'll see after the next big test. Did I say spelling quizzes and such don't count." "Maybe they could count for just a little slap and tickle next time I drive you home?" "We'll see. Gotta go. Don't forget my essay." Trevor hopped out of the car, closed the car door, pulled the cord to open the garage door, and Scott backed out. He watched Trevor disappear into the house as the garage door closed. Then he turned the car, and as he drove home, he thought of how to add some essays for his suffering seventh grade students. And he wondered about those "interesting people" that Trev had mentioned. Might have to follow up on that.