Date: Fri, 02 Mar 2018 03:18:42 -0500 From: callmej123 Subject: A Realistic Experience with a Teacher Usual Nifty.org disclaimers apply. This story includes individuals resembling people I've met in real life, but their names and situations are different for safety. A Realistic Experience with a Teacher (or as I hope it sounds) His hair was wavy blond, his voice cooed for all to hear, and his eyes squinted like a model 20 years before his time. Of course, this story is not about him, a boy most people at my school have a crush on. It's about a teacher I have in middle school. I'm 12 in 7th grade. My once beautiful voice has lost part of an octave overnight. I'm brown-haired and eyed, probably anorexic, cute maybe, but feel I am in that awkward period in life where your outlook on the world has changed, early friendships burned out, and innocence scratched away with other people's poorly-drawn penis graffiti. It's all the more flustering sitting next to the most attractive person in the room and having to pay attention to someone no one else probably finds even remotely interesting. However, I'm not like everyone else. Mr K (I'll give you that much) is probably somewhere in his 50s. It's tough to describe his body type for those interested. He's not fat, not buff, and not skinny. Beefy maybe? I think average would probably be easier to say. He's very pale with brown hair and eyes, a cleft chin with a bit of stubble, wears glasses, loose unbuttoned polos, khakis, and a silver watch. His voice is as tall as his 6'-something body, stretching from his nose down to whatever depth of throat he has. I think he knows how boring he is. His drowsy eyes are the kind that stay fixed throughout his talking, never raising eyebrows or expressing anything extreme. He doesn't call on anyone or punish you for doing nails or scribbling on a textbook. He's supposed to teach some sort of science but absolutely none of it gets passed distorted ASMR horn noises in your ears. We're trapped in a room together for one long hour every day, every week at 6th period. But still, being the way I am and him being one of the only older white men in the whole school I look at him more than the projector. I notice the bulge between his legs. It's probably a warp in his zipper but I like to think what's inside. I notice the dark hairs on his forearms and from the crack of his unbuttoned shirt. I could have sworn he took off a sweatshirt once in class or stretched his arms so I could see his pits. Luckily for me, I'm not completely silent. Questions come up or insertions about whatever material I comprehend and I raise my hand to speak. And for a brief moment he looks directly at me but I don't want to look back. Like I said, he probably knows how boring he is and for much of the recent classes he's been handing out free A's and playing DVDs of cartoons for the latter half of class instead of teaching. It's the only time you hear him laugh and everyone else can't help but do the same to this strange sight of a man. I'm just glad he sits in front of me so I can see his bald spot. He'll also interrupt the first half with 5-minute monologues about his ethnic wife and taking vacations. I'm sure he can't wait to retire. But back to the point of this reading, how... it... happened was I started staying after class to ask more questions and get more of his attention. Perhaps his tone lightened because I was the only person ever interested. Still, two minutes a day wasn't enough so I started going to his room for lunch (something no one else ever does apparently). I'd bring in my home-cooked meal, greet him, sit in the back, and subtly watch him eat sandwhiches. Seeing his face warp with every bite is not something that arouses me, only my attraction to him is much more situational. Other teachers are demanding of your attention, he's not. He's slow to talk to but capable of being talked to. Plus, growing up isolated and with such a fetish, your checklist would go out the window when he looked at you. Quickly those silent mealtimes became simple chat. The rule in my mind was to avoid the subject of class. I didn't want him thinking I was fishing for a grade. We'd talk some about his wife and my home life. We'd talk about interests like music or stories. And very quickly we started sitting closer to each other, him on a spare chair and me across from him at the front student desk. We had some subtle laughs but I don't think the talks were nearly as interesting as the act of talking with him, getting more comfortable to look at him. Getting more excited to speak with one another. I could have sworn he rose his eyebrows. As we got more comfortable talking, I got more comfortable looking. I never noticed how much he smiled casually or the way he sat that made what I like stand out or how much he stretched or how easy it was to see that non-bulge. And one day the lunch bell rang and he tugged my shirt asking me to stay after school. I wish I remember what we talked about that might have caused him to ask, but I like to think he had this idea for a while. I called my mom immediately about needing to stay, had 5th period, then his class (in which we act as though we never met more often), 7th period (how our school works) and then it was time to see him. I stalled around a bit, stored my stuff in my locker, and went up to the class just with a backpack. Everyone had just flooded out and he was wiping the board. He gave me a little smile and said "close the door". I couldn't help but smile too. We got in our usual positions and I couldn't help but feel giggly. "So why did you ask me to stay after school?" I asked. He though for a moment, leaned against an arm, and said "I just wanted to keep talking. I don't talk to many other people here." I felt a bit let down but didn't show. I guess I watched too many pornos where the teacher just flips you over in 5 seconds. But we talked for a while like usual, albeit in a stranger manner without chatter being heard from outside. I went home after an hour and a half, did my usual, then masturbated and went to bed. Apparently he wanted this to be a regular thing, saying his wife wouldn't be home for him until late and gave the impression he was lonely. Of course I couldn't help but show up again and again to read into the rambles of a man 4 times my age... because he was 4 times my age. On the fifth day I came in during lunch and he was neither late nor eating, but sitting on my side of the long student desk. Surprised, I grabbed the spare chair and sat across from him. He laughed, said "come here" and put his arm behind the chair next to him. With a light laugh I walked over and sat next to him. Some more awkward laughs and his hand was on my shoulder. I looked at it and back at him and he smiled.From that smile he asked "Does this make you feel uncomfortable?" "What?" He removed his arm. "Oh wait no no it's alright." "Oh ok." He put it back. For some reason the school seemed 10 times quieter and the situation laughable but too painfully strange to laugh at. "So," he began, "you want me to do anything?" "Like what?" "I don't know, just thinking aloud." A moment passed between us and I don't know what bravery allowed me to say what came next. "Should you lock the door?" His arm immediately left my shoulder. "Oh, right." He got up, paced to the door, locked and shut the blinds of the door, and came back to the position we were in. We both laughed a little and for the first time I could think of I willingly and without hesitation looked at his face. And he was smiling beautifully. It was a haze of distraction, the light coming from the upper-story window, the sound of people outside returning to the atmosphere, and an enjoyment of his gaze and his thumb fiddling my arm. "What time is it?" I asked. He looked over at the watch behind my head. "Oh uh... lunch doesn't end for another 25 minutes." "Ok." I looked forward at the board again as I we were watching a movie. I assume he did the same. "...am I supposed to do something?" "I don't know." What an answer. But when he let my hand lift to his thigh and he gave a slight sigh I think I knew what he wanted. It rested there probably longer than it should have. I looked back at him and he wasn't smiling, just looking at the board zombified like I was. Something told me that this man had not done this before either. A man who probably never even kissed someone besides his wife. I left my hand on his thigh like a signal of "ok" and slid off my chair. He pushed back to make a little room and I briefly crawled on my knees to a position where I could split his legs. He put his hand on my other shoulder and I went forward towards the package. His leather belt came undone first. Something about the clink they make when coming off combined with the silence of reality always drove me wild. I unzipped the knakis and my pinky could feel something soft beneath the bulge. He got up for a moment and helped slide them down. He wore white boxer briefs. Seeing the hairyness of his legs the stain of his underwear, and the pink head poking on top pointing to a happy trail, I felt the reality push even further onto me that this was a man much much older than I. He lifted his hips to take them off and his dustbunny cut monster was now pointing at me. I didn't waste time to look at it and placed my lips to it. I looked up for approval and he was still zombified, now with his hand on the back of my head, and I came down. It didn't taste like ocean, push like a sausage or slide like a finger. It was simply a semi-hard blob of flesh entering my mouth. As I met its end I was greeted by a tangled cloud of gray wilderness, so comfortable to rest against. I came up and down a few times and couldn't help but come off. "Am I doing good?" "Go ahead, less teeth." I came down again with more focus on the lips and tongue and heard an exhale. This happened several more times and I was starting to get a taste of something slimy at the back of my throat but it started to soften and he patted me on the back to lift up. "Did I do alright?" "Yeah you did fine bud." He smiled kindly. "But it's time to go, lunch is over." "Ok." I was so puzzled by the experience. "Wanna do more later?" "No not today. I'll see you in class." I left extaticly. I had just done what I could only dream of. Sure it wasn't perfect but I wanted to do more. I wanted to say to myself "I made my teacher cum". Later that day, he was more quiet than ever. I came in for lunch the next day and the door was locked, lights off. This went on for 4 days until I asked him quietly after class. "Sure, I'll see you at lunch tomorrow." He was a lot colder than before. I came in for lunch the next day and he was sitting at his desk ignoring me. I got whatever message he intended and sat at my desk. Nothing happened. I came in the next day. Nothing happened. The third day I didn't show up. And class and life in general proceeded as completely normal. I had a feeling I knew immediately why he wanted to stop. He felt guilty. He cheated on his wife and he "betrayed" his students. I messaged him on Facebook if he wanted to talk but no response there either. From there I knew this was a dead end. But I didn't give up. I came into lunch a couple days later to find him reading a book. I sat down at where we were before and after a minute of looking quietly at his feet, he spoke. "Everything alright?" "Yeah." I answered back softy. He noticed my unhappiness, closed his book, took the spare chair, and sat across from me giving me a smile. I couldn't help but smile back and we ate lunch together. He paused. "You didn't tell your parents or anyone about what happened right?" He continued to eat. "No." He crumpled up his sandwhich paper and scored a shot at the trash can. "Listen J, I stopped because you're a good kid. And I don't want to hurt you." "I know..." "Look, I'm so sorry about what happened and I'm sorry I gave you the impression that it was ok. I shouldn't have done that it was foolish and ignorant of me. I hope you understand and please don't let this come out to anybody else." "Alright, I understand." I don't think he was any happier about it than I was. "Alright thank you. I already have you lined up for an A so you don't need to do any more work this semester." That didn't phase me much. "Ok." I kept eating. "I mean, we can still be friends. I just hope you have no problem with that." I swallowed. "Yeah alright." He must've been annoyed with me but couldn't yell because of his guilty feelings. But I did hear a great big sigh as he went back to his desk. I lifted my head. "Can I come after school?" Quickly he responded. "Yeah sure bud." And gave me a smile. I came back to class after school and he sat across our desk again. He tried continuing as normal. "So how's your mom?" "Fine." I paused and said "Did you miss me?" He smiled "Yeah a little." "Not a lot?" We both laughed but the conversation couldn't return to the innocence of before. "Would we have kept going if there was more time?" He frowned harshly "No J, we can't do that remember?" I got up from my seat, walked around the table and started to kneel. He stoop up. "I said no! Out of my room!" That was the first time I heard him yell. "Please." He pointed at the door and I stood up to slowly walk out. His hand dropped but I turned to him. "I won't tell anyone. I just want to make you happy." He froze up a little from that. "Look... J..." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I can't do that." "But don't you want to?" "It doesn't matter what I want, it's not right." I took his arm frommy shoulder and walked him to the table. I sat on top and looked at him. He backed off, shook his head and came back. I took my shoes off and unzipped my pants, letting them fall to the ground. Then came my shirt. He repeated his little ritual of walking away and coming back, his face distraught but his eyes fixated on what he wanted. In my socks and underwear, I took him between my legs to unzip his pants. They came down and finally he complied to come closer and hover over me on the desk. He closed his eyes as if to hold back a tear, pulled down his briefs and pushed towards me. Without meeting eyes I gripped his back and got my underwear off. From my loving touch, he seemed to regain his strength and worked his way into me. Fuck I was tight. He didn't have anything prepared so he spit up his cock and slid it through. Me, I was completely silent. No complaints, just letting him find himself again. Him, he was loud. He pressed hard with each go and burried his nose in my smooth neck. I kissed his cheek, then a bit closer and finally his lips. If sex was love, I was in love. I don't know how long it went but he was calling me sweet names and cursing in me ear as he came close and shot. I stayed silent and kissed him back. He finished loudly and took a break on a chair. His cock left a trail across the floor. I used whatever strength I had to walk to him, sit on his softened teaching instrument to deliver more kisses of affection. He kissed back. There were no words exchanged about it being good or bad or any small talk coming up. Just a boy sitting on his man who was embracing him. From there, lunch was back to talking and after school back to banging. Eventually the relationship died down and we started seeing other people. Him, of-age boys on the internet, me, more men like him. Thank you for reading. Comments, suggestions, or anything really are welcomed at my email address callmej123@protonmail.com I get lonely so I'd love to hear back from anyone. As a headsup, I've always had an interest in age-difference and don't mind whichever way people may prefer to talk about. I've visited nifty for a while and love the stories and writers here. It's helped shaped my sexuality and writing for better or worse to how I am today. Please donate.