Earning a Passing Grade

By Rob Loveboy

Edited by Embee



Myles Regan had been teaching junior high for nearly 10 years, never allowing his sexual urges to interfere … difficult as that was sometimes. The confirmed bachelor who dated women in order to keep up appearances, was well respected at St Anthony’s Junior High School teaching Grade 8 maths, with never a hint that he was gay. He frequented a bathhouse when the urge struck him, usually paying for sex with the young twinks who hung around outside the establishment.


Fit and good looking at 35 years of age, Myles didn’t have to pay for sex … he just found it much simpler than playing the cruising game at gay clubs - which he despised; nor did he wish to take tricks home to his apartment.


“What is it, Carmine?” he asked the 13-year-old still standing at his desk after the other students had filtered out at last bell.


“Well, sir. It’s about my grade,” the nervous kid said, looking at the floor and shuffling his feet. “My dad’s going to kick the shit out of me if I don’t get at least a passing grade on my report card next month.”


“I guess you should have thought about that before now, Carmine,” Myles replied, sitting back in his chair staring at the boy.


Carmine was a looker who played the lead role in Myles’ jack-off sessions. Short blonde hair, green eyes and well defined facial features, Carmine could be a cover-boy on Teen Idol magazine. He was very popular with the girls, leaving Myles to wonder which ones have had the pleasure of sucking his cock, which at the moment appeared very promising, as Myles took a quick opportunity to steal a glance. Hard not to notice inside those tight Levi jeans!


“I was wondering if you could tutor me sometimes after school. I promise to do my best and catch up on the stuff I’m having problems with,” Carmine begged. “Seriously, sir. My dad will beat the snot out of me! I’m willing to do anything to get a decent grade.”


Myles saw the fear in Carmine’s eyes. He had also seen a few black eyes and swollen lips in the past, realising now where he got them, as the boy wasn’t the rough, tough, aggressive kind of student … at least as far as Myles was aware.


“Anything?” Myles’ mind was where it shouldn’t have been.


“Anything, sir! Just give me a chance to prove it?”


Myles broke his golden rule ... “never get involved with your students”. Writing his address on a piece of paper and handing it to the teen, he said, “Tomorrow is Saturday. Come to my place in the morning around 10 and we’ll see what we can do about improving your grade level to a passing mark.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.


“Thank you, Mr Regan!” he replied rolling his eyes, relieved. “I’ll be there.”


“And don’t call me Mr Regan … that’s my father,” he laughed. “You can call me Myles outside school.”


“Yes, Mr … um, Myles.”


Myles didn’t have a clue why he invited the kid to his home. He was sure the Principal wouldn’t approve. And he was certain there must be rules about it … an ethical issue, at the very least!


Staying late after classes finished, Myles reviewed Carmine’s file, estimating his average grade to date to be around 55% - just short of the minimum passing standard of 61%. Easily negotiable, Myles thought … yes indeed.


Carmine arrived right on schedule looking absolutely edible, casually dressed in a cockteasing tight pair of white nylon gym shorts, a red muscle shirt cut-off that exposed his midriff, and sockless, kicking off his runners at the door. Myles wore a white tracksuit with a black stripe up the sides of the legs and arms, having just returned from his usual 5-mile run.


“Nice place you have, Myles!” the teen said gazing around. “Is there a Mrs Regan?” he asked, catching Myles off guard.


“Nope. I prefer the single life,” he chuckled. “And my hand!” he followed up with, sending Carmine into a fit of laughter.


“I know what ya mean! Women are a pain in the ass sometimes.”


Myles motioned Carmine to sit at the kitchen table, a maths textbook in front of him.


“I bet a good-looking guy like you doesn’t have to use his own hand!” Myles suggested daringly, way out of bounds of a teacher/student relationship.


“Wanna bet?” he replied, rolling his eyes for emphasis. “Not the girls I know.”


Myles popped the lids off two bottles of ‘Mike’s Hard Lemonade’ and placed one in front of Carmine without asking if he wanted one. Myles saw the boy’s astonished look at being given liquor so freely. “Thanks!” he said.


The maths book sat unopened on the table as they made conversation about everything but school. His dad was a truck driver, Italian descent as his last name so clearly implied, his mother was Swedish. Myles had once met her during a parent/teacher meeting, and it was obvious where Carmine got his good looks from. He had an older sister in college, liked baseball and soccer, etc, etc … They chatted for a long while, well into their second bottle of Mike’s, with Carmine at ease and seeming quite comfortable with Myles.


“So your dad would really beat you up for faIling maths?” Myles asked, opening more bottles of Mike’s.


“Oh, yes he would! He has a very bad temper when it comes to me,” the boy replied. “My sister is his baby and she can do no wrong in his eyes. But she is smart … a lot smarter than me.”


“Well, I evaluated your progress to date … call it an early report card before the final exams. You’re short by 6 points for a passing grade, which I will overlook if you let me suck your cock!” Myles deciding not to beat around the bush now, knowing how desperate the kid was.


Taken by complete surprise, the look on Carmine’s reddening face was that of sheer shock … wide-eyed and jaw agape, nervously sipping his cooler in frequent gulps.


“Yer only joking, right?” he snickered, possibly thinking Myles was merely toying with him.


“Six lousy points I can manage to fudge for you, Carmine.” Myles was well aware he might have been gambling away his teaching career. However, when someone gambles, he’d best have an ace card up his sleeve ... and Myles had a report card!


“Holy fuck! You aren’t joking around,” he said, looking everywhere except at Myles and guzzling his bottle down. “I never thought of you as being gay. Holy shit!” he said baffled.


“Deal or no deal?” Myles said dead serious, staring the boy down. “Passing Grade 8 maths or not?” He knew he had Carmine over a barrel.


Carmine swallowed hard and replied, “Okay, but I’m no queer, Mr Regan!”


“Myles,” he corrected, guiding the kid by the arm to the living room, his own cock pointing the way.


Myles sat on the sofa and had the young teen stand between his knees, as he released the draw-strings and lowered the boy’s shorts by the cuffs ... not without some difficulty, being so tight. His underwear was much easier, as was his tiny muscle-shirt, lifted from his arms in one quick swipe. Standing completely naked, he was everything that Myles’ wildest imagination could conceive … and more! Standing straight up and about a foot from his face, the teen’s hard cock could best be compared in length and girth to that of a frankfurter … even the darkish golden-brown color, compared to the paler hue of the rest of his groin area. Myles was surprised Carmine was circumcised, considering his European heritage.


He first appreciated the beauty of Carmine’s body, running his hands over the boy’s chest, hips and sides of his legs, purposely saving the best for last in order to tease himself. Carmine’s soft ass was next, running a finger up and down the crevice and feeling the boy shudder whenever he grazed his sensitive rectum, before dragging him forward swallowing his meat and cherry-size balls in one glorious move … his nose now tickled by pubic hair.


Myles couldn’t care less that he just came without even touching himself. And perhaps for the first time he didn't shrivel after orgasm, remaining erect and painfully hard trapped, in his sweat-pants. Lifting his ass off the sofa to free himself of the encumbrance and lowering his pants to mid-thigh with his left hand - and, of course, not wearing underwear - he felt the sticky reminder he had cum prematurely.


Myles released the boy’s balls from his mouth so he could caress them in his hand, concentrating on Carmine’s delectable cock. Never having tasted anything so young and so nice, twenty horses couldn’t pull him away from the boy’s crotch!


He sensed Carmine was getting weak-kneed and without taking his mouth off the boy, laid him on the sofa, one leg hanging over, foot planted on the floor. His legs were spread wide enough for Miles to orally attack his balls and - unplanned as it was and caught up in the sexual frenzy - to lick his asshole!


“Fuck!” Carmine needing to say no more, his quivering body saying it all.


Myles was not only pleased, he was ecstatic! He had to literally pinch himself to prove it wasn’t just another wet dream and that he truly had Carmine laying on the sofa giving him a blowjob.


Carmine tensed, his cock pulsed twice, followed by a series of spasms surrendering to his orgasm, the taste of which was amazingly sweet and plentiful. The teen became a regular visitor to the apartment after that day. Myles never pushed his luck, content to just suck the teen’s cock and jerk himself off in the process. Carmine received a 65% maths result on his midterm report card.


Another one of Myles’ students - Calvin Cramer, 14 - wasn’t exactly failing maths. Myles only told the hot-looking kid he was, and offered private tutoring at his apartment! Who said that teaching is a thankless job?


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